#also I turned off notifications but I *really* don’t want a response on my birthday for obvious reasons 😬 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charincharge · 25 days

Text

I Don't Want To Wait, seventy-one

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

TW: College admissions. Sorry if you’re going through this now! Also, I went through this a longgggggggg time ago, and I know this isn’t exactly how admissions works, so apologies for creative liberties. I was supposed to post this before Aelin's birthday, but I missed May 3. Just by two days, though, so not too shabby! Okay, lets go. Final stretch, my loves.

“What do you mean you don’t want to celebrate your birthday?” Rowan scoffed. “Ace, you love your birthday.”

Aelin stretched her arms overhead and reached to touch her toes, ignoring the way her boyfriend stared at her with his usual hawklike intensity and instead leaned into her shins, helping relieve the ache from sore and overworked muscles. Dance practices had been relentless on her body, especially with the spring showcase just a few weeks away, she seemed to be in perpetual knots always.

Well, she guessed she couldn’t just blame dance on that. She was having a hard time with everything at the moment. While her friends were smiling and laughing at their last few weeks of high school, Aelin was feeling an acute sense of panic. The weeks following spring break had melted away faster than she could process, gone in the blink of an eye, filled with an onslaught of dance practices and AP exam prep and constantly checking her inbox for that little email notification from Wendlyn. And not nearly enough Rowan, who was spending all his free time with his lacrosse team. Not only that but everyone around her seemed more excited than ever with the prospect of leaving Orynth right around the corner, but with each passing day the knot in her stomach grew tighter. Everything was a ~last~ —and she was having a hard time enjoying that. She didn’t want any of this to be her last. Why was everyone excited that time was moving so fast? Why couldn’t she just freeze right here in this moment. In this limbo things were stressful, but they were still fine. Without knowing what her fate held.

College acceptances had come rolling in, one by one, her friends grinning wildly as they opened their emails. But Aelin’s inbox remained woefully empty. So, she wanted her boyfriend to forgive her for not feeling particularly celebratory, but then again, she hadn’t discussed any of this with him for fear of making him feel guilty about it.

As she breathed into her next stretch, she turned her torso to look back at Rowan, who was still waiting patiently for her response.

“My birthday last year was a disaster,” Aelin finally replied, completely ignoring the real reason she was feeling less-than-enthused. “How quickly they forget.”

But Rowan just rolled his eyes. “That was an exception. I have a feeling that no one is going to get arrested or go to rehab this year. Usually your birthday is all you can talk about for months. Are you really telling me you haven’t planned anything? For your eighteenth birthday?” he asked. “It’s in less than a week.”

Aelin shrugged, leaning to the other side and groaning as she stretched out a particularly tender muscle.

“I just don’t want to do anything this year,” she said. “The spring dance show is in two weeks, and I’ve been practicing every night. So, for my birthday I just want the night off.” She paused. “Is that really so bad?”

“No…” Rowan said quietly, picking up his phone and furrowing his brow. She’d know that face anywhere. He looked concerned.

“What?” she snapped and immediately regretted it when she saw Rowan’s face. He didn’t deserve to be the receptacle of her stress or ire. All he wanted was to make sure she had the birthday she wanted. Her sweet, sweet Rowan. “Sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I’m just…”

“Tired?” Rowan filled in, and she nodded and lifted her arms above her head, extending them out for him. He swooped in quickly and helped her to her feet, enveloping her in a warm and comforting embrace. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered into her hair, and she could feel her tension melting away with each one of his butterfly kisses.

Aelin finally looked up at him, and his worried green eyes were staring back down at her. “I’m so tired, Ro,” she admitted as she squeezed him against her tighter. “The idea of doing something big for my birthday just seems like so much work.”

“It’s just a big one,” he replied softly. “I don’t want you to regret not celebrating.”

“And I appreciate that,” she said, letting herself melt into his chest fully. His heartbeat helped center her, and she rued the day that she wouldn’t have it there for her at a moment’s notice. “But I just want to hang out with you, eat too much chocolate cake and maybe go to sleep early.”

“So I should tell Lorcan to cancel the surprise trip to the strip club?” Rowan asked. Aelin’s head shot up, and her boyfriend’s answering smirk was telling enough.

“You almost had me there,” she said.

“He tried,” Rowan laughed, “But I shut him down pretty quickly.”

“What kind of strip club are we talking about?” she asked, causing Rowan’s worried expression to disappear, as she intended. As Rowan explained how he had to talk Lorcan off the ledge, Aelin took out her phone and needlessly refreshed her phone over and over. But her inbox remained unchanged.

. . .

“Stay calm and vote Manon and Elide as queens for prom!” Dorian shouted while shoving a rainbow flyer into a passerby’s hands. “A vote for Manon and Elide is a vote against The Man!” he continued, causing Aelin to snort into one of the crown-adorned cupcakes Maeve had contributed to the cause. Dorian had taken it upon himself to run point for Manon and Elide’s prom queen campaign and had recruited Aelin to help him during their shared free period. Not that he needed the help. Orynth High had rallied around the pair of women, and there was no doubt as to who would sweep the vote, but it was still something that Aelin could do without that horrible nauseous feeling taking over her entire body – which might have been helped by the fact that Dorian was also still waiting for a college acceptance email, and so the pair of them were happy to use lifting up their friends as a distraction. Or at least use it as a reprieve from constantly refreshing their email. He’d received a few rejections and was pinning all his hopes on one last college.

“A vote for Manon and Elide is a vote for equality!” he shouted, offering up his own plate of cupcakes to a nearby freshman, who accepted it readily.

As if they’d heard their names called, the pair rounded the corner, hand in hand, smiling softly at each other. Manon pulled away for a second as she tied up her newly dyed turquoise hair into a messy bun, causing Elide to sigh dreamily. Aelin watched as they slid their fingers tighter as they came back together and leaned into each other’s shoulders. They’d both received their acceptances to Perranth, a small liberal arts school nearby, earlier this week and the pair hadn’t stopped smiling since. Aelin was happy for her friends; honestly, she was. But that didn’t stop her stomach from churning with jealousy at the fact that they were going off into their post-high school future together.

“Oooh, are those Maeve cupcakes?!” Elide asked, eyeing the funfetti confection in Dorian’s hand. He lifted the plate, offering it up, and Elide wasted no time in grabbing it and shoving half of it into her mouth.

“Sooooo good,” she mumbled around a mouthful of crumbs. Manon rolled her eyes at her girlfriend’s enthusiasm and used one of her long nails to brush away a bit of frosting from above her lip. Unable to control herself, she swooped down and kissed the spot she’d cleaned, as if to make sure it was completely free of sugar.

“And I thought Rowan and I were disgusting,” Aelin laughed.

“You are,” her friends all said in unison, not wasting a single beat.

Aelin flipped them all off, burying her face into her own cupcake instead as Manon asked Dorian for a status update on his polling info. She was taking this extremely seriously, and it kind of warmed Aelin’s heart to see her cold friend use her ruthlessness for good. Well, for Elide’s good.

Though they were deep in conversation about numbers and which cliques were voting for whom, Dorian stopped and gasped loudly.

“What?” Manon asked, and Dorian opened his phone and showed it to them.

In bold at the top of his email inbox was a brand new email, waiting in bold from Anielle University with the subject: Dorian Havillard, Application Status.

“Oh my god, OPEN IT!” Manon shouted as she reached for the phone, but Dorian clutched it to his chest in horror.

“NO!”

“No?” Aelin asked, raising a brow in his direction.

“I can’t open this in the middle of the hallway,” he hissed. “What if it’s a rejection?”

Aelin’s chest panged with sympathy. She knew how hard Dorian had worked this year with volunteering at the hospital and all his APs to get into the college of his dreams. Aka, one far away from his father. Anielle was as far as it got, and it was a great school, too. Not to mention it was the last one he was waiting to hear from.

“Do it when you’re ready,” she said. “Don’t let these college admits pressure you,” she continued.

“Ah, fuck it,” he said. He closed his eyes tightly as he pressed the bolded link. He took a deep breath, and cracked an eye open before shutting it again. “I can’t look. Someone look for me.”

“Give me that,” Manon grumbled, pulling the phone out of Dorian’s white-knuckled grasp. As a wide smile appeared on her face, Aelin’s stomach clenched further. She knew what that look meant. “Look yourself,” Manon said, handing the phone back to Dorian, whose eyes were still clenched tightly closed.

He blindly groped for the phone before Aelin shoved it into his wandering hand. “Congrats,” she whispered, knowing what the email would say without even seeing it herself.

Dorian’s eyes shot open, darting across the screen as that very same smile she’d seen on all her friends one-by-one ripped across his face.

Aelin tried to smile back as Manon and Elide crowded him with high fives and hugs and lifted celebratory cupcakes into the air and cheersed them together. Aelin refreshed her own inbox, but there was nothing there. Of course there wasn’t. At this point she was just assuming that she would have to reapply to colleges next year and maybe do community college locally for the year. That would be fine, though. She’d continue to teach dance and maybe volunteer at the hospital some more. Get some real-life work experience. Plus, she’d have time to drive out to Wendlyn and see Rowan on the weekends, if he still wanted her to do that, of course.

“Still nothing?” Elide asked Aelin, having noticed her quiet smile.

Aelin shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll get the rejection soon,” she laughed. “I just wished they’d do it sometime soon and put me out of my misery.”

Elide reached across the table and squeezed Aelin’s tense shoulder. “I know this is going to sound patronizing, but I mean it. If they reject you, it’ll be their loss.” She paused. “Have you talked to your mom, asked her if there’s anything she can do?”

Aelin physically blanched at the mention. “No. Not since the interview debacle.” She cringed more, realizing that her mom would most-likely be calling her on her birthday in just a few days, and she’d be wondering what Aelin’s status was. And Aelin would have to admit that she as a disappointment, just as she always assumed she’d be.

Yet another reason why she would not be in the mood to celebrate turning the big one eight. She’d need a full day to recover from whatever her mom said to her. She tried to remember if Evalin had ever forgotten her birthday before. She was pretty sure she had. And those years had hurt, had made her want to celebrate her birthday even harder. But she wasn’t sure if talking to her this year would be worse than not hearing from her at all. I guess only time would tell.

Instead of wallowing in her feelings, Aelin joined the celebratory cupcake party, drowning her feelings in Maeve’s delicious buttercream frosting, and hoped yet again for a single email to arrive and put her out of her misery.

. . .

Three days later, Aelin woke up to a small nudge against her nose. Then a soft kiss to one cheek, then to her other.

“Five more minutes,” she groaned, causing the offending kisser to laugh against the soft skin of her neck as his kisses trailed down toward her shoulder. “I’m serious, Buzzard, fuck off,” she said, but it lacked any real vitriol. After all, the man of her dreams was kissing every inch of her skin as thoroughly as he could while still being gentle enough to rouse her from her dreams with ease.

“Happy Birthday, Ace” he whispered as his lips ghosted over hers.

She finally cracked her eye all the way open and couldn’t help but smile widely at the sight of Rowan kneeling beside her bed, a sparkling glint in her best friend’s eye as she came to life beneath his gaze.

“Eighteen years old,” she whispered back, her voice still hoarse from hours of sleep.

“I know you said you wanted chocolate cake,” he said, “So I considered making you my poor attempts at breakfast cake again,” he laughed, reminding her of the day she’d woken up on her sixteenth birthday and resolved herself to kiss her best friend within that year. How far away that birthday now seemed, even though it was a mere two years ago. They were different people then. They hadn’t known how much they’d go through, how much life they’d live together to come out of it in this moment on her birthday again. Together. “But I decided to do you a solid and just bring a chocolate fudge cake for breakfast. Because you’re a grownup now. And grownups eat chocolate fudge cake for breakfast.”

She loved that despite their long history that Rowan still rambled when he got nervous with her. She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close, kissing him thoroughly. Her tongue slid between his lips and he groaned in response, kissing her harder and letting himself fall on top of her, despite still being on his knees.

“Maybe my first act as an official adult should be having morning sex with my boyfriend,” she mumbled against his lips, tugging him closer. He kissed her back, but shook his head and pulled away, causing her to pout sadly.

“As much as I would love that, your dad is downstairs.”

Aelin closed her eyes and stuck out her hand, revealing a thumbs down. Rowan laughed heartily, and she loved the way it made her feel dizzy.

“But we can eat some cake first,” he said, handing her a fork.

“Thanks, Rowan,” she said in a rare moment of sincerity between the two, not joking at all, and she loved the way his cheeks colored with a dark pink as his head ducked.

“I love you,” he simply replied. And though Aelin had dreaded the approach of this day, she relished in the fact that this boy – her best friend – loved her. For right now, that was good enough.

. . .

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rhoe said, enveloping Aelin into a warm hug.

Aelin quirked a brow up at her dad, who was not usually this sentimental, but she accepted the hug regardless.

“Shut up,” he said, chuckling softly as he pulled back. “It’s the last time I’m going to be with you on your birthday morning, and I deserve a hug. As a reward for getting you to eighteen at the very least. I think I did an okay job,” he said, looking her over.

“You did more than okay, Rhoe” Rowan said, pouring a large cup of coffee into Aelin’s favorite mug and then handing it to her. “You did amazing.”

“You’re already forgiven for waking me up too early,” Aelin laughed, but accepted the coffee nonetheless. “Mmmm, hazelnut,” she said, appreciating that her household had made her favorite flavor, despite not loving it themselves.

“DID I MISS IT?!” Lorcan asked, his voice breathless as he burst his way into the kitchen.

“Missed what?” Aelin asked, looking around at the empty kitchen.

“The gifting of porn and cigarettes, obviously,” Lorcan said with a wry smirk. But Aelin just rolled her eyes.

Her dad narrowed his eyes and looked at Lorcan with disdain. “You’re so lucky I like you.”

Lorcan’s grin only widened in response. “Happy eighteenth, slugger,” he laughed, handing Aelin a pile of scratch-off lotto tickets. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Rhoe’s lips curled into an unwitting smile as he wrapped his arm around Aelin’s shoulders, tugging her close once again.

“Dad?”

“Lorcan is being an absolute idiot, like he always is.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I know you’re still waiting for official replies, but no matter where you end up next year…” Rhoe began. “I’d like you to be able to come and visit as much as you like.”

He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Aelin. “Happy birthday, Aelin.” He looked around the room. “From all three of us.”

Aelin looked at the men in the room, staring back at her, before processing that the thing now resting in Aelin’s hand was a key. Not just a key. But a car key.

“SHUT UP,” she said, her eyes widening. “SHUT UP!”

“I will not,” Rhoe said, but he couldn’t help but smile.

Aelin sprinted for the door before anyone could stop her, and she was practically crying as she reached the driveway where a dark green sedan waited for her.

“She’s old, but we gave her a pretty good makeover,” Rhoe said, apologetic. But Aelin knew how huge a gift this was.

“You guys did this?” she asked, and Rhoe nodded.

“One of my crew members was ready to retire it for scraps. It’s a got a fair amount of miles on it already, but we replaced all the important parts. New alternator, air filter, battery, breaks, headlights… pretty much anything that wasn’t up to code from 30 years ago.”

“Dad…” she said, running her hand over the shiny fresh coat of paint. “That must have been really expensive…”

But Rhoe simply shook his head. “It was less than I thought it’d be. The whole crew helped out during their down time, and these two bozos put in a fair amount of labor on some overnight shifts.”

Aelin’s gaze shifted to Rowan, who was pushing the toe of his sneaker into the gravel of their driveway.

“I might have lied a few times about being too tired after lacrosse to come over. Sorry,” he said, tucking his chin into his chest, and Aelin was suddenly buzzing with an warm feeling in her chest. The knot that had been there, tightening for weeks, suddenly loosened. Love. That’s what this feeling was. Just the sweetest, most incredible feeling. To be cared for like this by the people around her. So overwhelmed, she couldn’t help herself; she corralled the three most important men in her life together and widened her arms around them into a giant group hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She made sure to say it three times, thanking each one of them.

“Well,” Lorcan said. “Don’t you want to get in?”

Aelin squealed, throwing herself into the driver’s seat and adjusting the chair to her particular height. She breathed in the pine scented air freshener they’d hung on the rearview mirror and smiled. It was perfect.

The car was old, that was not a question. But that only added to its charm. The seats were a comfortable worn-in fabric with a pattern that reminded her of the old Terrasen airport carpet, with its greyscale geometric patterns. The dash was covered in a faux wood pattern that she recognized as being trendy decades ago, but it just made her love it more. This car had history. She’d seen things. She was well-traveled, and Aelin couldn’t wait to give her a brand-new life and explore even more. She knew they’d have many, many adventures in this car. Overhead, there was a sunroof, which she immediately opened to let in the mid-morning light, and she couldn’t help but tilt her chin into the light and let the glow warm her skin.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she finally said, lowering the window to look at her dad, who was more than pleased with his own handiwork.

But Rhoe simply scoffed at that comment. “So, are you driving us all to breakfast or what?”

Aelin grinned as Rowan pulled up a playlist titled, “A-ight-teen” and connected it to the clearly refurbished stereo system.

She laughed as the first song came on loudly – Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman – causing Rowan to grin widely, a grin that he reserved solely for her. Their matching smiles morphed into guffaws as Rhoe and Lorcan folded their hulking, tree-like bodies into the backseat, squeezing into the cramped sedan with no complaints.

“To Maeve’s?” Aelin asked.

“Yes, Jeeves,” Rhoe said in a ridiculous fancy accent, causing them to break into laughter again.

. . .

“SURPRISE!”

Aelin literally jumped as her friends popped up from behind the counter of Maeve’s. She glared at her dad and Rowan, who had clearly planned this, despite her specifically telling them she hadn’t wanted to celebrate her birthday with a party. I mean, had she known she was going to see more than just Maeve she would have at least put some makeup on!

As if reading her mind, Rowan wrapped his arm around her waist and whispered, “You look beautiful.”

She frowned but accepted the compliment and a long kiss. As they parted, Aelin was swept into a number of excited hugs from all her favorite people. Manon, Elide, Dorian, Chaol, Lysandra, and Aedion circled around her, and she gasped as Aedion stepped in, surprising her with a bear hug and lifting her off the ground. They were causing a bit of a ruckus, especially with Lorcan making his own rounds saying hi to everyone he hadn’t seen in a few months, so Maeve quickly ushered them all out to the back patio where she’d set up a special table, and Aelin couldn’t help but moan with pleasure at the plates stacked high with all her favorite breakfast foods.

“…stuffed French toast, maple cured bacon, cinnamon rolls with extra frosting…” Maeve started listing, pointing along the table at the overly filled table.

“Anything for someone who doesn’t want to go into diabetic shock?” Rhoe laughed.

“Cheesy scrambled eggs, potato hash, bagels, and toppings for breakfast tacos,” she said, pointing out all the savory options on the table, too.

“Yummmm,” Aelin groaned, her eyes practically rolling back into her head with pleasure at her first bite of French toast, despite having a chocolate cake appetizer barely an hour earlier.

“I think she’s fine with the surprise,” Rhoe snorted, elbowing Rowan, who practically jumped out of his chair, tearing his eyes away from Aelin’s mouth.

Manon cackled with glee. “As if we would let the birthday queen not celebrate her birthday. It’ll probably be the last time.”

A round of awwwws went around the table, but instead of the tightening Aelin would usually in her stomach, her panic was abated by Rowan’s fingers lacing with hers beneath the table. He squeezed, as if to silently say, I’m here and I know and I love you. And Aelin let the familiar feeling of his callused finger pads calm her quickly. As he drew circles on the back of her palm, she couldn’t help but think at how different this birthday was from the one only two years ago – the one where she’d planned to tell Rowan her feelings and chickened out. She remembered the way he’d simply sat in the corner, watching her socialize, and she wondered what would have happened if she’d told him then – would they still have ended up together? Or did they need to go through… everything in order to get to where they needed to be today.

Looking at the way he made conversation with everyone from Lorcan to Lysandra, something shifted inside her. This man would one thousand percent have rather been alone with her all day, but he also knew that – despite her protests – she did actually want to celebrate with her friends. Because he knew her. Fully. And that’s when she knew without a doubt that regardless of what happened between them two years ago, ten years ago, or ten years from now, Rowan would always be with her, silently loving her and helping her be her best self.

Aelin gulped, that knot that had abated earlier suddenly tightening in her stomach again. She had been so panicked for so many months about every moment being the last, progressively becoming more stressed as each of her friends discovered what their future held, while she still didn’t. But what was shockingly clear all of a sudden is that she did know what her future held. I mean, sure, she didn’t know where she’d end up or what she’d end up studying or exactly what her life would look like, but she knew that Rowan would be there by her side no matter what.

She almost laughed at herself. Wasn’t that what he’d been saying to her over and over and over? Why did it take until this moment to make her believe that?

“Presents?” Maeve suggested, and though Aelin nodded and smiled through each one, her mind was elsewhere, thinking about what she needed to talk about with Rowan tonight. Her stomach flipped – although she wasn’t entirely sure that couldn’t be blamed on the copious amounts of sugar she was consuming and her never-emptying mug of coffee.

“You okay, Fireheart?” Rhoe asked, nudging her ankle from across the table.

“Yup,” she answered, forcing a smile back onto her face and actually meaning it for the first time in a while. “Too much frosting,” she laughed, patting at her overly full stomach. Rhoe simply returned her laugh and handed the plate of frosted cinnamon rolls to the other end of the table where Dorian accepted it eagerly. And though she continued to open her presents and bask in the love of her friends and family around her, Aelin couldn’t wait to get Rowan alone.

. . .

“Did you have a good birthday?” Rowan asked, fluffing the pillows on the ground as Aelin gathered a warm quilt and pulled it over their makeshift bed. It’d been months since it was warm enough to go up to Maeve’s rooftop, but it felt like the perfect place to end the day.

“It’s not over yet,” Aelin said, snuggling into his side.

Rowan looked at his phone. “You’re right. You have ninety more minutes to celebrate. How do you want to commemorate your eighteenth year of life?”

Aelin raised her brow. “You think I brought you up here just to talk?”

Rowan snorted and pulled her closer. “You’re a menace. Come on, talk to me. I’ve seen your brain working a million miles an hour all day.”

Aelin looked up. “How do you do that?”

Rowan shrugged. “Do what?”

“Read my mind,” she said. “It’s spooky sometimes. I feel like you know things before I say them out loud allllll the time.”

Rowan chuckled. “I wish I could read your mind,” he said, tapping the side of her temple gently. “Now, come on. Tell me what’s going on.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She’d been so distracted all day that for the first time in weeks, Aelin hadn’t spent every minute of every day refreshing her inbox.

She froze, and then her heart took off in a gallop, racing until she felt shaky with adrenaline. Sure enough, as she pulled the phone up, it was lit up with an email alert from Wendlyn University. Re: Aelin Galathynius Admission Status.

“Oh fuck,” Aelin whispered. Rowan’s eyes darted to the screen, and he shot up, sitting up too quickly and knocking Aelin off him.

“Are you gonna check it?” he asked, but even as Aelin clicked into her inbox, she couldn’t press it. The email that would tell her whether she and Rowan were going to end up at the same school for the next four years. And then, suddenly, she knew what she had to say. And she had to say it before she opened up that email and revealed her fate. Because her fate could only be one thing. One person, really.

She placed her phone down and looked Rowan straight in the eyes and said with as much conviction as she possibly could, “I think we should get married.”

#idwtw au #rowaelin #tog fic #throne of glass fic #tog fanfic #rowaelin fanfic #charincharge writes #rowan x aelin #weeewooooo #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic

57 notes · View notes

acewoo · 6 months

Text

～ 𝘏𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶

Satoru Gojo x Reader

nsfw, flirting, oral sex, fingering, praise, fem!reader

Word count: 1.2k

You and Satoru have been dating for some time and now, his birthday has finally come around. And boy were you planning to make it perfect. After all, it had to be after the absolute dream of a birthday Gojo had planned for you.

You were wrapping one of the presents you had gotten for him as a notification from your phone played.

Toru ♥️

Guess what day it is~

Of course, it was him who else would it be? You let out a small chuckle as you type a response

You

Thursday?

Toru ♥️

Don't tell me you've forgotten :c

You

Ofc I haven't, I'm just kidding Toru’

Happy birthday 🎁

You two continued to text back and forth for a bit before he said he had to go take a shower. At that time you had gone back to wrapping his presents along with writing a small birthday note. While the gifts you had gotten him weren't nearly as flashy or pricey as the ones he had gotten for you on your birthday, the note that you had thrown in and what would come after it would make up for it. Once the note was finished you lace it within an envelope, gather all his gifts and neatly display them front and center on your kitchen table. Your phone buzzes again.

Toru ♥️

Soooooo

When u coming over ;)

You

I'll come over soon toru dw

Js need to prep some stuff

Toru ♥️

Ok come soon tho

I don’t want to be all alone on my birthday

Before driving to Gojo’s place you make sure you have everything ready. After confirming that everything was packed and ready you go into your room and change into the new mini-skirt Gojo had gotten you a week prior.

You

Coming over now

Toru ♥️

Was starting to think u wouldn't

You

I told you I had stuff to get ready

Toru ♥️

Not a good enough answer 👎

The text made you giggle as you unlocked your car to head over; Satoru really was a child trapped in a 27-year-old's body.

Upon arriving you're greeted by a very happy Gojo who opens his mouth before you can even get one foot in. “Took you long enough, I was getting so lonely.~” Rolling your eyes you step inside taking your shoes off. As you do Satoru takes notice of the large gift bag that had been attached to the side of your shoulder. “what's inside there?” he asks, already trying to peek inside it. Before he could though you quickly snatch the bag and respond.

“No peeking, you'll see soon enough” Satoru pouts as he shuts the door behind him. “I see you wearing the mini-skirt I got you,” he says in a much more flirty manner.

“Figured it'd be a good first time to wear it.” you hum as you bend over to place his gift bag on the table. Before you could turn back around, Satoru already had his hands firmly wrapped around your waist. “Keep doing stuff like that might also be the last time you wear it too.” his voice was low and was a clear warning. In which you challenge. “And why would that be Toru?~”

He leans deeper into your back, his lips lazing over your ear, with his breath going down your neck. “Oh so is that how we're playing?” his one hand starts tracing down your skirt as he teases the bottom of the trim. “Of course, I don't mind. In fact, I'd be more than happy to win against you…” his voice is dangerously quiet, and you can already feel the heat intensify between your legs.

“Satoru what abo-“ he cuts you off by pressing his finger from his other hand to your lips and hum “shhhhhh we’ll both enjoy this princess don’t worry.~” his hand then continues slipping further, till it rests under your skirt, his fingers teasing your panties. “I wonder, you're wearing the underwear I got you too?~” your cheeks flash red, giving him all he needed. “Wow I guess you really are eager to please me on my special day aren’t you?~” his fingers curl up in your underwear feeling your wet slick that had already been dripping out of your cunt.

As his fingers continue to explore he rests his lips on the side of your neck. “So fucking eager for me.” his fingers draw down your panties while his other hand reaches down to your waist. As his hand traces down you breathly speak. “T-toru.”

He hums “what is it?~” his thumb starts making circles on your cilt causing you to fold further into the table. “Come on, no need to be shy now.” His thumb presses a bit harder, just enough so the tips of his finger slip inside you. In response you let out a light whimper.

Satoru starts kissing your neck while breathlessly speaking. “So sensitive for me.” He removes his thumb and instead has two fingers slowly enter inside you. “You’ve been so quiet… it’s unlike you, yah know… I want to hear you dear.~” he’s pressed up against you more as his fingers begin to scissor inside you.

As his fingers continue to move inside your drenched walls, his other free hand removes itself from your waist and motions to lean you down against the table. And you comply. “So fucking good for me yah know that?” As he praises you his fingers reach a bit too far inside you when they curl cause you to moan in pleasure. Satoru had a slightly sadistic grin as he saw how much that affected you. So he did it again, and again, and again. Making you cum multiple times.

“T-Toru please- I can’t…. Take anymore..” you shakily let out. Satoru then takes out his fingers sucking your cum off them as if it was candy. “You taste so fucking good babe you know that?” He says completely ignoring your struggled comment moments ago. As he stops sucking on his fingers he then purrs in your ear. “You know…. Just that sample of you wasn’t enough…” Satoru wanted to eat you out right there. And hey, it’s his birthday so who are you to deny him of his wish… not that you could say much right now anyways.

Gojo then helps you get up only to slam you against the couch. He lifts you up to have better access to your pussy as your legs open for him. He wasted no time leaning in under your skirt to begin a cat licking your clit. The moans you were letting out was music to his ears. “So perfect for me…” he continues to eat you out and you could feel yourself getting close. “Toru- gonna c-cu” he cuts you off with a comment of his own. “Do it for me” and just like that your cum shit onto Gojos tongue which was still logged inside you.

Once your release is calmed down Gojo removes himself from your pussy looking down upon you. You were a panting mess and he loved it. He then gives you his signature childish grin as he speaks. “Soooo, can I open my gifts now” , having somewhat of a composure now, you throw the closest pillow near you at him. “This was supposed to be after you opened your presents dummy!”

“Awe but, you know I can’t help myself around you!” You sigh laughing. “Yeah yeah, happy birthday satoru.”

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #gojo x you #satoru smut #finger my pussy #jjk smut #gojo x female reader #jjk #acewoo #modern au

58 notes · View notes

gyeomsweetgyeom · 1 year

Text

[5:48 pm]

(part 2 to this)

(cw: very brief and vague conversation of mental health, alcohol use mentioned)

taglist: @kimxbae @naektthnoo @heyitsconysstuff @niinjo @naram99 @wonuziex @girlwithimaginarybiaslist @babeijustneedyou

Today was the first day Mark hadn't called or texted you since you broke up a month ago. He left voicemails, sent texts, and direct messages, even when you removed him from social media and had one of your mutual friends ask him to stop contacting you. At first it was the typical messages that he would send when he actually had time for you, good morning, have an awesome day, today I totally aced my biology exam! Then the messages turned to almost completely illegible messages on nights when he drank or message after message of apologies and begging you to forgive him. You never answered the messages or listened to any voicemails.

More than anything it hurt you how much effort he decided to put toward a relationship that was now done compared to the end of your relationship.

Today was the first day you were going out and feeling weightless, no sadness from the breakup- you felt good. Maybe that was because the semester was over and you were going home or because you didn't have any notifications from Mark, you didn't know and you really didn't care.

You were busy unpacking your bags, when you heard a knock on your bedroom door, "You have a visitor, hun."

You were confused as you made your way to the front door, you hadn't made any plans with your friends for today. Did you get the date wrong?

You were completely wrong, it was Mark. Luckily, he couldn't see you turn away from the door and head back to your room. Well, almost go to your room, you bumped into your mom, "You should talk to him, honey."

"I'm not ready to," you shook your head.

"Then maybe just hear him out, get some closure. I don't like seeing you sad," she suggested with a small smile.

You huffed, with a childish stomp of you foot. There was no telling this lady no. You pulled the door open and stepped outside, avoiding all contact with Mark who was staring at you with a stupid, surprised look on his face.

"I uh- wasn't sure if you'd be coming home. You never answered any of my texts or calls," he mumbled.

"Yeah and I didn't read or listen to anything you sent either, did you need something? I can have my mom drop off the stuff that might be here later," you replied.

"No I uh, I brought you these," he held out a bouquet of flowers, your favorites. You hated how your heart skipped a beat.

"Thanks," you answered briefly.

"I wanted also apologize, for uh, the well, you know."

You had to hold back your scoff, "Yeah Mark, every time I saw you sent me anything I was reminded of you dumping me for your frat bros."

"I didn't dump you..."

You huffed, taking a seat on the bench your parents have had on the porch since before you could remember. The bench where you told Mark about your crush at 15 and where you both shared your first kiss on your 16th birthday. How times had changed. "What would you call it then, Mark?"

He chuckled breathily, "It's weird hearing you call me Mark."

"Yeah, well would you call you ex baby or babe?"

"I don't have any other exes." He answered quietly.

The air was tense between the two of you. He sat at the opposite end of the bench, staring out at the street. "I'm really sorry, I promised you when we were 18 that I would never hurt you, and I broke your heart. I guess I broke my own heart too, I never wanted to hurt you the way I did.”

You laughed sarcastically, “What was the response you expected Mark? You pulled away from me for weeks and then show up telling me some other people I’ve never met are telling you to break up with me and you followed through! You have a mind of your own and you can make your own decisions, but you still listened to them!”

“Baby, I wasn’t thinking- ”

“Don’t- Mark,” you interrupted.

“I’m sorry. I really do mean it, I never wanted to hurt you but I did. I miss you, I miss hearing your laugh, seeing you everyday, talking to you everyday, and I miss being around you. Not even as your boyfriend but as your friend. I can never make up for the hurt I caused you, but I want to try again- if you’ll let me- of course.”

“I can’t do that Mark, you’re not the person I knew. You’re so different now, you have new priorities and I don’t want to go through being pushed aside again, even as friends.”

You could hear him clear his throat, “I don’t want to go back the old us, we’ve both grown and matured and we can do better than teenage us. If this was me before I wouldn’t have made any changes and continuously begged for you to take me back, but I want to better for you. I uh, I left the frat. You’re right, I don’t need a bunch of guys only a few years older than me telling me what to do. On top of that, my brother hated me calling them my brothers,” you laughed at that, “I also found someone on campus to help me deal with my stress. I know you said you could have helped me, but that shouldn't be your responsibility or really anybody's but my own."

"Good for you Mark, I'm proud of you," you nodded, you did mean it. You knew how hard it was for Mark to be away from home, away from his family, it wasn't easy for him to just do the work and not get the grades he was used to. It was a huge change for him.

"So while I'm not the person I want to be for you, I don't like me without you. I'd really like if you could give me another chance as your friend, and maybe one day when we're both ready we can give us another shot. If you want to of course."

"I can't forgive you and take you back like nothing happened, Mark. I don't even know if I still trust you," You sighed, running your hands over your face.

"I'll do everything I can to rebuild that trust. We'll take it slow, baby steps. If I mess up even one time, I'll leave and stay away from you forever," Mark ended softly.

"Being away from you for just a month has been awful, I'm giving you one more chance Mark, because I don't think my heart can handle you stomping all over it again," you lightly joked.

Mark hesitantly put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close, he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, "I wouldn't ever dream of it."

Things were going to be just fine.

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee au #mark lee timestamps

343 notes · View notes

capricornlevi · 1 year

Text

fine lines & sunflowers - bokuto koutarou x reader

summary: you really should have known better than to make a bet with kenma -- now, you have to face your worst fear: getting a tattoo. To make matters worse, the artist - bokuto, your friends inform you - is apparently renowned for being unforgiving and harsh to newcomers. you need to see for yourself if he lives up to that reputation. timeskip bokuto!tattoo artist AU x reader.

cw: explicit sexual content, reader has a phobia of needles (not discussed in detail, but mentions of the phobia in the context of getting a tattoo), alcohol consumption (all sex is sober & consensual)

NSFW, 18+ - MDNI - MINORS and AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 8.2k

a/n: this is a birthday gift for my wonderful friend sofia @brainrot329 who is the world's most dedicated bokuto simp & also the most incredibly kind person i know ! happy birthday sofia !

___

The first thing you notice about the Black Jackal Tattoo Shop is how the neon sign above the entrance is so bright that it hurts your eyes.

It’s late in the evening, the sun having set fully just over an hour ago, and the pavement is bathed in a bright purple glow that outshines any of the streetlights. It’s distracting, so much so that you wonder how their neighbours haven’t complained about it – but glancing at the bustling bars and liquor stores nearby, you can’t imagine they much mind.

The second thing you notice is just how busy the place is. Even at this hour, every single one of the tables is occupied and there’s a line of people at the far end of the shop clearly awaiting their own turn. This was the last slot they had available and so you knew they were in high demand, but this goes beyond your expectations.

It’s just fifteen minutes before your appointment and so you hope that the queue will have thinned out by the time you head in. Obviously, you don’t mind waiting for a short while, but you don’t want to be here all night – more time spent queueing means more time to overthink.

More time to start panicking.

More time for you to chicken out or bolt away from the shop as though your life depended on it.

Even now, your legs threaten to buckle underneath you. Your pulse hammers in your ears, every shaky breath takes a great deal of effort. You’re terrified at what awaits you.

But a bet’s a bet, and you lost it. You need to get this tattoo in order to face your friends with your head held high.

And so it’s with a great deal of relief that the third thing you notice about Black Jackal is its obvious cleanliness. You swear you can see the floors sparkle from your vantage point on the other side of the street. The walls seem freshly painted - a nice dark blue colour, covered with golden-framed pictures of various intricate tattoo designs - and the artists are all sanitising the tables thoroughly when switching clients.

Of course, you can’t tell all that much about a place from outside their door, but they certainly present themselves very professionally – nausea-inducing neon lights aside.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Reluctantly, you fish it out and check the notification despite knowing exactly what it will say.

Kenma: No backing out!

Kenma: But good luck <3

You wince and swear under your breath. Your long-time friend can be profoundly annoying at times like this, but you still type up a quick response to sate his curiosity – he’s probably waiting at his apartment with Kuroo and the others to see if you’ll actually follow through.

You: I’m waiting outside, I’ll text proof when it’s done

Three dots appear followed by a near-instantaneous response.

Kenma: Yay! Just don’t piss off Bokuto lol

You sigh as you slip your phone back into your pocket and head to the nearby chain café to kill some time.

In hindsight - perfect, glorious hindsight - you probably should have known better than to bet a professional streamer that you could beat him at Mortal Kombat. But in your defence, you’ve been playing the game since childhood and have won almost every single time - your win-to-loss ratio is somewhere in the region of ten to one - and it was far from Kenma’s favourite game, he rarely streamed it, so you figured you stood somewhat of a chance.

And then one night, after far too many homemade cocktails served by Kuroo and Kenma in their shared apartment, you issued a challenge to the latter: the long-awaited Mortal Kombat tournament, best two out of three, and the rest of your friends would act as judges to ensure all rules were being followed.

If Kenma lost, he had to shave his head live on stream. His worst nightmare.

You, on the other hand, have always had a very vocal fear of needles and so you both quickly came to the same conclusion; if you lost (and you figured it unlikely), you committed to facing your own nightmares by getting a tattoo.

To the shock of only you, Kenma won easily.

You sat in horrified silence for about a half-hour, only speaking up to accept the consolation shots of straight liquor that your friends diligently provided.

You were just about to knock back yet another tequila when Kenma softened the blow just a little.

“You can pick the design, y’know,” he pointed out with a smile that only betrayed a hint of smugness. “I won’t make you get anything embarrassing.”

You scoffed, setting the empty shot glass down on their battered old coffee table. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Heard that Black Jackal place across town is decent,” Alisa piped up. She’d been in your corner for most of the bet, so you took her opinion to heart.

The next day, once the worst of the hangover had passed, you messaged the shop on Instagram.

“ Hey!” you’d begun, wondering if they could sense your nerves through the screen. “ Just wondering if you have any upcoming slots for a small fine line?”

You already had an idea in mind for the design, having spent the morning browsing online with Anisa; firstly, it had to be the tiniest tattoo physically possible. Secondly, in an area that didn’t hurt that much – you picked your forearm, where the websites rated it on the low-medium scale for pain (though you had your doubts).

You also had a fondness for sunflowers (as evidenced by the heavy-handed decor in your bedroom), so you spent hours perusing the “small sunflower tattoo” tab on Pinterest.

You had narrowed it down to three or four possibilities which you promptly screenshotted and forwarded along with your message to Black Jackal, receiving a reply a short while later. You partially wished they’d just ghost you so you could put it off a bit longer, but unfortunately, they were very enthusiastic to help.

“ Absolutely! We have a slot with Bokuto at 8.30 on Friday?”

Begrudgingly, you agreed.

You informed your friends of your plans the next day, announcing it over dinner with everyone in attendance as proof of your dedication.

Once you read the reply aloud, Kuroo inhaled sharply.

“ Bokuto ?” he asked, incredulous. His tone of voice concerned you deeply.

“Yes?” you answered slowly, scanning the room to see everyone’s expressions. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

Kuroo winced. “Nothing.”

Obviously, you weren’t too convinced.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

Your friend started to worry his lower lip between his teeth. “It’s just …he’s … renowned for having, uh, very high standards, basically. Kinda has a scary reputation.”

“What do you mean?” you frowned, mind already conjuring up an image of this apparently terrifying Bokuto.

“I think I heard something like that … he takes the craft very seriously,” Lev piped up, sympathy written all over his face. “He’ll call you out if you’re too nervous or shaky.”

“And if you faint …” Kuroo trailed off uncomfortably and your blood ran cold in your veins. “My sister got her ankle tattoo there and nearly ran out in tears.”

You had scowled then, rolling your eyes to act as though you didn’t care, but your heart started to race at a thousand miles an hour.

“Just behave like you know what you’re doing and you’ll be fine,” Kenma interjected, at least trying to be helpful. “You’ve nothing to worry about. You’ll be in and out in like twenty minutes.”

You nodded half-heartedly, lifting your fork to your mouth and grimacing at the sudden cardboard-like texture your meal had taken on.

Half an hour. How bad could it be?

Now, standing at your original spot on the pavement with a warm latte cupped in your shivering hands, you start to think you weren’t half as scared then as you should have been.

A tattoo. A tattoo. On your body, forever , and they do it with needles.

And to top it all off, your tattoo artist is apparently a cranky perfectionist who scoffs and jeers at newbies. Wonderful.

You check the time and see you’ve about five minutes to go before you’re due inside. You knock back a large swig of your coffee, surmising that the extra shot of espresso will be of help rather than hurt.

Once the cup is empty and you feel your legs are stable enough to carry you, you cross the street.

Approaching the entrance step by step, you feel the neon light wash over you as you reach for the handle. The mahogany door is surprisingly light - or maybe your adrenaline has given you superhuman strength - and before you’re even aware of what’s happening, you’ve closed it behind you and floated across the tiled floor to reach the front desk.

The receptionist seems to be finishing up a call and so you idle by the desk, trying to force something resembling a poker face.

As she starts to take notes while speaking on the phone, you can’t help but notice the incredible sleeve of black-and-white designs all up her right arm – you’ve seen them before on Black Jackal ’s online portfolio. If memory serves, Bokuto was tagged as having done most of the work.

After about thirty more seconds she politely hangs up the phone, fixes the claw clip holding back her dark hair, and scribbles something on a piece of paper before looking up at you with a bright smile. Her enthusiasm seems so genuine that, for a moment, it takes the edge off your fear.

“Hi, I have a slot at 8.30?” you say, clearing your throat. “With Bokuto?”

Recognition dawns on her face. She says your name as a question – you nod, confirming.

“I was the one talking to you on Instagram!” she beams, gesturing for you to take the consent forms, “Bo took a look at the pictures you sent on and has a couple of stencils ready for you if you want to take a look while you’re waiting?”

You force a smile and nod again, accepting the additional papers she hands you. She asks if you need to hang up your jacket; you shrug it off, the cold air making the bare skin on your forearms prickle with goosebumps.

As if it’s necessary, she follows up by gently asking; “is this your first tattoo?”

“Yes,” comes your choked reply.

She leans in to take your jacket, giving your shoulder a quick reassuring squeeze as she does so.

“You’ll be fine, I promise! If the discomfort was that bad, I wouldn’t have gotten all these,” she holds out her arm for you to get a closer look at the gorgeous patterns. “The hardest part is getting in the chair, and you’ve pretty much done that already!”

Her smile reaches her eyes and you feel immensely grateful to have her in your corner if you do faint on Bokuto’s table.

“Thank you,” you reply sincerely, heading over to one of the benches at the end of the room to start perusing the forms.

It’s all fairly standard for a disclaimer. None of the potential complications listed on the sheet gives you any cause for concern since you’ve stocked up on all the products you’ll need for aftercare.

Plus, it’s not the after part that scares you. It’s the during part, with the buzzing and the needles and the judgmental glances you’ll get if you let out a yelp -

“Hey! How’re you doing?” a resoundingly cheery voice calls out above you. “You nearly done with the waivers?”

The unexpected greeting shocks you so much that you nearly drop the clipboard. You look up to see a very tall, very broad man grinning down at you expectantly, tattoos covering his arms except the parts obscured by his white t-shirt and black gloves, a shock of silver hair held back with a metal hairband to keep it from falling into his eyes as he works. Something on his mouth catches against the light, glistening – a silver ring on the right-hand side of his lower lip, shifting as his smile widens.

He seems … different than you expected. More animated, more enthusiastic.

“I’m Bokuto - Bo, if you prefer - and I don’t know if Kiyoko mentioned it, but I did up a few stencils … ah, you have them there, great!”

You sit there, blinking up at him and then flickering your gaze over to the door as if mapping out your exit strategy in case this interaction turns sour.

Maybe the mean part comes later. Maybe it only starts when you’re up on the table.

“Anything you want me to go through with you first?” he asks when you don’t reply, a thick brow arched in anticipation of your answer.

“Uh, nothing on here,” you reply, cool as you can manage, holding out the consent form for him to take back to Kiyoko. You hadn’t had a chance to look at his designs yet, but you don’t think you really need to; the one at the top of the pile matches your mental image perfectly. “And I think I’ll go for, uh, this one … here . If that’s okay.”

You hold out your chosen design and he takes it, somehow still smiling despite your demeanour being flighty at best.

Frosty and rude, at worst.

“Great! My favourite too. I know we’re not supposed to say that - client is always right, ‘course - but I was hoping you’d pick that one! Wanna get started?”

He gestures to one of the middle tables before snapping off the gloves.

“These are just the ones I use to clean up,” he answers your unspoken question once you’ve gotten up from your seat and glanced at his tattooed hands. “I’ll sanitise fully before we start.”

You weren’t looking at the gloves. You were looking at the intricate art covering what seem to be strong and giant hands, but you see no point in telling him that.

You slowly approach the table as Bokuto goes to deliver your forms.

Turns out, what you saw from the street didn’t even do the place justice; the area is surgically clean, not a speck of dirt of to be seen, and the plush surface of the table looks as close to comfortable as you could have hoped for. The ceiling is covered with grey tile and the overhead lighting complements it, bright enough for the artists to have visibility but not glaring to the point it gives you a headache like the street lighting did.

The framed pictures on the wall are even more beautiful up close.

The art by Bokuto’s station especially .

You hop up and sit at the edge of the table, hands clutching the side of the cushion for dear life as if falling off could kill you.

The artist at the table to your right glances over, his face impassive even through the black medical mask that he’s wearing. When you turn your head, the artist to the other side does the same, casting you a look that’s entirely neutral except for his dark brows which seem to be permanently furrowed.

Their behaviour is closer to what you expected Bokuto’s to be like; not quite rude, not quite mean, but so professional and deadpan that you can’t help but feel your inevitable breakdown would inconvenience them greatly.

“So, you decided on the placement?”

Somehow Bokuto’s voice startles you again, having been too fixated on his coworkers’ reactions, but you hide your surprise better this time. You don’t jump, just lift your head and look at him; true to his word, he’s putting the final touches on the sanitisation process before starting any other preparation.

“Hm?”

He grins, not too bothered at having to repeat himself once more. “Have you picked where it’s gonna go? Because I might have to make some changes depending on your decision.”

“Oh, the inside of my forearm” you blurt out, holding it out to show him.

Your brusque and sudden response means it’s his turn to look up in surprise, but there’s no judgment on his face when he does so. Instead, it softens, golden eyes taking on a hint of sympathy.

“You nervous?” he asks, more quietly this time.

“ No, not really, ” but your answer comes far too quickly, your face heating as the words leave you. The vice-like grip that you have on the table only further disproves your answer.

He chuckles knowingly as he pulls on a fresh pair of gloves. “You wouldn’t be the first, y’know.”

“I’m not that nervous,” you object futilely. “Really.”

Bokuto takes his seat and pulls it closer to you; partly because he seems to think eye contact will help (it does) and partly to shield you from any eavesdroppers at the tables next to you (he does so successfully).

“Seriously,” he says, quieter again. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. If it’s too much, we stop. If you need a break, we stop. If you have any questions, I am more than happy to answer. Anything at all, no matter what. That sound okay?”

You nod instinctively but find yourself meaning it. He has a surprisingly calming presence, intimidating reputation aside.

Maybe Kuroo isn’t a great judge of character.

“I’ll walk you through it, ‘kay? Just so you know what to expect,” he starts, and another nod from you shows you’re ready to hear the rest. “Firstly, since you want it here,” he leans over and points to your inner forearm, “we’ll need to have you lying on your back with your arm held out – we could do it sitting up, but this is more comfortable for us both since it’ll minimise any shaking.”

The table is quite comfortable. You’re with him so far.

“Then,” Bokuto continues, business-like but still kind in his delivery, “we’ll sanitise your arm and make sure the skin’s ready to be tattooed - it’s only a small area, so it shouldn’t take too long - and then we pop the stencil on. If you’re happy with it, I’ll get the last of the equipment ready and you just hold still for a while – it’ll be over before you know it. Sound good?”

The way he spells it out is a lot less intimidating than some of the resources you’ve read. He’s not being condescending, either, which is a huge plus – you know what you’re getting into, you’re not a child who needs to be consoled, but you’d just prefer for someone to speak to you like a human and just lay it out so you can mentally prepare.

Which Bokuto just did. Perfectly.

So in lieu of an answer, you lay down in the position he described, and try, for the first time, to return a smile.

He seems delighted as he pushes his chair back out to double-check the supplies. “Alright! Let’s get this started!”

Staring up at the ceiling, you try to count the tiles to keep your mind occupied. Bokuto’s hands are gentle as he cleans the skin and applies the stencil but your arm still tenses under his touch.

He notices. “All okay?”

“Yep,” you murmur, starting your counting again.

One tile, two, three -

“This look okay to you?” he inquires, and you pull your eyes away from the ceiling to check the design.

To his credit, it’s perfect. A bit bigger than you expected, but you can see now that changing the size would mean losing out on some of the detailing.

It’s better than any of the ones you’d seen on Pinterest and you tell him as much. He laughs heartily, with such sincerity and energy that it’s almost contagious.

You rest your head back down and start focusing on counting the next set of tiles.

No panicking. Not now. You’re nearly there.

Four tiles, five, six, seven -

Bokuto makes a few small adjustments. Your breath quickens.

It’s so close to being over. Just grin and bear it.

Eight tiles, nine -

The needle starts to whirr.

It hits you all at once: a gut-wrenching burst of panic so strong it feels as though it could stop your heart from beating, and you bolt upright before the needle makes contact with your skin, already shaking like a leaf.

Everything’s too much now. The lights, the sounds of buzzing needles, even the low mumbling of the people conversing at the tables next to you – it all mixes into a terrifying cacophony that overloads your senses.

But contrary to what Kuroo and the others had told you, Bokuto doesn’t scold you. He doesn’t laugh, either. He doesn’t even look disappointed. He’s pulled back a little - just enough to give you some breathing space - but other than that, he’s the same. A soft smile, kind eyes, and it gives the impression that he has all the time in the world to help you.

As nice as it is, it somehow adds to your humiliation.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, still trembling. You cover your face with your hands. “I’m sorry . I just … need a moment.”

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, genuinely puzzled. He sets the needle down in its place. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

What does he mean? He just saw your reaction, how is he so unbothered by it?

“Well, mostly sorry for … for that, ” you answer with a humourless laugh, finally moving your hands away from your face. “For freaking out, for losing it just there … god, I nearly jumped off the damn table .”

He huffs out a short laugh. “And? You wouldn’t be the first, that’s for sure – not the first today, even.”

You rub your eyes forlornly. “I just - it got very real all of a sudden. Too real. I’m sorry.”

He waves off your apology kindly but firmly.

“No more sorry, alright?”

Adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you find it in yourself to agree quietly. No more apologising. That much you can do.

“And just so you know,” he continues. “I’m not in the business of tattooing people against their will. If you’ve changed your mind, that is absolutely and completely fine – can’t stress enough how fine it would be. We can even try another day, I can get this stencil off you-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, your mind clearing just enough for you to object. All things considered, you actually really, really liked the look of the stencil on your skin. You want this tattoo. You want to be able to go back to your friends with your head held high. You want to do this for yourself. “I want to do it today.”

“Okay,” he notes in agreement, meeting your gaze. “Then how are we gonna make this work?”

It’s quiet for a moment as you consider your next step. You wonder if Bokuto knows just how much this eye contact is helping to keep you from dying of embarrassment.

You start to explain your fear in a way that hopefully sounds more articulate than the vague screaming that’s going on in your head.

“I don’t know if this makes sense, but it’s not the pain that bothers me so much as the needle. All my life, it was never the shot itself that freaked me out, just the sight of the needle coming towards me.”

“I get it. Pain isn’t the issue, really, but looking at this ,” he gestures to the tattoo gun, “isn’t helping you get your mind off things?”

You swallow thickly. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, how about you tilt your head the other way? Akaashi’s about to clock out so you won’t be looking at his mean face for too long,” - at that, the man next to you stops cleaning the table and scowls - “and if you want, I’ll just keep talking so you’re not just staring at the wall for half an hour and you’re not focusing on the sound of the needle. If I need you to check anything - linework, shading - I’ll ask, and try and keep the needle out of the way for you. Whatcha think?”

Maybe it’s just the surge of intense emotion starting to subside, but the offer could just bring you to tears. There’s no pressure, no judgment. Just support and encouragement.

You can do it. You know you can do it.

“Sounds doable,” you answer after a slow, steadying breath. You lay down and tilt your head, seeing the tables next to you now clear. “Let’s do it.”

And this time, you don’t so much as flinch.

The tattooing itself doesn’t really hurt at all. It’s not the most comfortable sensation in the world, but it’s not painful by any measure, likely helped by the fact that you don’t catch sight of the needle for most of it.

Bokuto talks to you, and you find yourself chatting back with increasing casualness. The topics vary; work, family, how Akaashi used to be equally frightened of needles even though he vehemently denies it. It helps keep your thoughts clear.

You ask him the tattoo questions that you weren’t able to find the answers for on Google, knowing his reply will be honest.

He tells you a few college stories. One or two of them sound eerily familiar, but you don’t question it.

He asks you about your friends and about the bet that led you here. You give him the condensed version, explaining that the result was actually a lot closer than your friends had said and that if you had gone for best three out of five, you might’ve just won it.

You ask about his lip ring, if it hurt to get it done. He says it didn’t.

Your anxiety ebbs and flows throughout, but you don’t let it surface. Every time you feel panic surge through your chest you just ask Bokuto another question, letting his deep voice carry you away from the fear.

Just as you’re about to chime in with another question about his first tattoo, he interrupts first.

“ And … all … done.”

It feels as though only two or three minutes have passed, so thick shock envelops you as you ask incredulously, “ done ?”

“Done,” he confirms, setting the needle down and starting on the aftercare. “If you’re happy with it, that is?”

You glance at your arm and can’t hold back a gasp at what you see. It’s as though Bokuto reached into your mind and recreated your idea perfectly.

You spend a few minutes admiring it as he cleans up, chatting excitedly as the thrill is yet to wear off, and you feel a strange disappointment knowing it's time to part ways.

Still, you don’t let it show, thanking him and tipping generously when it's time to settle up, saying your goodbyes to Kiyoko too before collecting your jacket.

Once you’re out the door, you snap a picture of your outstretched arm with the perfect tattoo in centre frame and send it into the groupchat, riding the high of your achievement.

You: Told ya <3

Seconds pass before the replies start to flood in.

Kenma: Holy shit you actually did it, I’m impressed

Lev: And she delivers! 👏

Alisa: ^^^^^ shut UP we knew she’d follow through

Alisa: it looks amazing ahhhhh!!!!!

Kuroo: who’s “we” in this scenario

Alisa: shouldn’t u be saving this energy for twitter fights tetsuuuu

___

To commemorate you successfully facing your fears, the gang all make plans to go for drinks the next day. In fact, Kenma’s so impressed that you followed through on the bet that he agrees to pick up the tab – Kuroo is delighted with you as a result.

The table is reserved for the entire night and Alisa, Lev, and Yaku are driving separately there so you’re able to travel in one cab. Kuroo and Kenma spend the entire journey inspecting your tattoo, fully visible with the short-sleeved dress you chose for the evening since the protective wrap has been removed.

“Holy shit, it’s real, ” Kenma mutters, peering closer at the sunflower design.

You laugh a little, taken aback at the continually disbelieving attitude he has towards it. “Yeah? Lots of people have tattoos - Lev has one. Alisa has four. ”

“Yeah, but,” Kenma answers with a shake of his head. “It was your worst fear. I would have never shaved my head, y’know? Over some little bet, are you kidding?”

“Oh, you would have,” you grin, glancing over at Kuroo’s knowing expression. “We might have needed to be a bit persuasive, though . ”

Out of respect and perhaps just a bit of fear, he’s the first to leave the taxi once it’s parked and he makes a beeline to the counter to get your first drink.

The bar is busy but not too crowded, typical for this early in the night in this part of town – close enough to Black Jackal, come to think of it, and you could probably see the purple neon lighting if you peered out one of the windows.

You let yourself enjoy the buzzing atmosphere as Alisa and Yaku take you out back to go dancing. The hours trickle by without you noticing.

Once you’re teetering at the edge of being out of breath, you decide it’s best to get another drink. The others all join you, with Kenma going first to make sure the tab’s still open.

The queue by the bar counter has thinned a bit since most people have made their way to the open floor to dance and chat. It’s relatively peaceful, so you tell yourself that’s the reason why you’re able to pick out the familiar head of silver hair with such alarming quickness.

There are about six or seven people standing between you, most of whom seem to be other artists from the tattoo shop, but Bokuto’s the only one you zone in on.

It makes sense that you’d bump into him in this place. Obviously, he’d come here after finishing work since it’s so close by. You’re not sure how you didn’t expect it.

You’re also not sure why you feel a sudden and peculiar sensation brewing in your chest, radiating out in waves, intensifying every time you think you’ve caught his eye.

You grab Alisa’s arm, pulling her to the side to inform her of the sudden development.

“Bokuto’s here,” you whisper into her ear, sounding almost startled for some unknown reason. Your own tone of voice takes you by surprise.

“What?” she calls out as she leans in closer, unable to hear you over the music. “ Whatcha say? ”

“Bokuto’s here, but I need a moment before I go say hi, ” you whisper louder this time, almost at regular volume. You can only hope that nobody but Alisa understands the implications of what you’re saying.

But naturally, Kuroo picks up on your conversation with relative ease.

“Bokuto?” he asks far too loudly, glancing around in an entirely unsubtle way. “Where? Did you know he was coming?”

Heat floods your face and neck. “ Yes, Bokuto,” your scowl deepens, “and no, I didn’t know he was coming, you utter-”

Kuroo raises his hands in defence, a mischievous smirk etched on his face. “Hey, just asking! Maybe you took a shine to each other, how was I supposed to know?”

That hits a nerve for reasons you don’t quite understand. You keep your face as impassive as possible to avoid detection – you don’t really want to explore these feelings in such a public setting since you don’t even know what they are. Residual nerves, maybe?

“Why would you think that, Tetsu? You’re the one who expected I’d faint on the table.”

Kuroo has an immediate answer to your question.

“I kinda figured you’d get along, to be honest,” he admits with more than a little smugness. “So wouldn’t be too surprised if you had invited him.”

You baulk at his suggestion. “No, you didn’t! You said he’d be a dick!”

He laughs heartily, throwing his head back as he does so, and you start to piece things together.

“Do you - do you know him?”

“Yep!” Kuroo chirps. “Played volleyball with him in college.”

Your eye twitches. If you hadn’t been friends with Kuroo since your schooldays, you’d probably hurl your drink at him out of sheer frustration.

Even as it stands, the jury’s still out on the drink-throwing.

Hearing Kuroo’s howls of laughter, the others have now made their way into the conversation.

Wonderful. You’re starting to worry the loud music won’t be enough to obscure the conversation from the parties concerned.

“I was messing with you!” Kuroo clarifies, though it’s not really necessary at this point. “Bokuto’s a good guy. You probably could’ve spontaneously combusted with fear and he would’ve been the one to apologise for stressing you out.”

“You what?” Alisa gasps. She was out of the loop up until this very moment; her indignation on your behalf is quite satisfying.

“I thought you all knew!” Kuroo replies after knocking back half of his beer, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. As if his tongue needed to get any looser.

You scoff. “I didn’t! Nobody ever knows when you’re messing with them!”

“And how did Kenma and Lev know what you were talking about?” Alisa asks, throwing an accusatory look at her brother.

Kenma shrugs, answering on Lev’s behalf too. “There are a few artists down there with a reputation for being harsh, and I assumed from Tetsu’s reaction it was Bokuto … but I actually was thinking of someone else, I guess. A friend of a friend with a bad case of resting-bitch-face? A - Akaashi something?”

You glance at the surly-looking man standing next to Bokuto and it all finally falls into place.

“So I acted like a complete freak for no reason?” you ask despairingly.

With a grimace, you remember your monosyllabic answers to Bokuto’s initial questions, how you acted like a deer in headlights at every step of the process, how it took intensive intervention on his part to even get you back in the chair.

Your friends jump to your defence.

“You weren’t a freak- ”

“I’m sure you weren’t that bad-”

“Tetsu, you can be the actual worst- ”

It seems as though the rest of the group were about to settle into scolding Kuroo when you catch sight of Bokuto approaching, grinning as usual, lip ring glinting in the low lighting.

It takes a second for you to actually comprehend he’s heading towards you and not Kuroo.

Mercifully, the rest of your friends seem to realise it as soon as you do; they start to collect their drinks and get out of your way, Kuroo stopping for just a moment to greet his old friend - you still can’t believe you hadn’t figured it out earlier - before whispering something in his ear that makes Bokuto’s gaze flicker over to you.

Oh, if he’s told something embarrassing, you’ll actually kill him. Before you can react to whatever Kuroo’s said, he turns and gives you a quick wink before joining the rest of the group on the dancefloor.

“Hey!”

Bokuto’s greeting is cheery and bright, which should be encouraging were it not for the fact that it seems to be his default setting.

His hair is loose now, the metal hairband clearly only for work purposes, and the silver strands that frame his face seem so impossibly soft you have to fight back the urge to run your hand through it.

Here.

At a bar, in front of everyone.

Oh, so that’s what that feeling is.

“Hey!” you try to return his enthusiasm, ignoring the twisting in your gut from the looming realisation that you have a crush on the man you were terrified of not twenty-four hours ago.

And he knows you were terrified of him, too. Probably still thinks you are.

“So, Kuro was just telling me you know each other?” Bokuto beams. “Shoulda let me know! Could’ve told you a few embarrassing stories about him from college … and I probably did, come to think of it, but didn’t give any names yesterday. More than happy to now, though?”

A frazzled laugh slips out in spite of everything. “Yeah, we’ve been friends since we were little kids.” You pause for just a moment, considering his words. “But I’ll definitely take you up on that offer if it’s still open.”

“Oh, it absolutely is. Do you have about six hours spare to hear them all?” he hesitates for a split-second, looking more nervous than you think you’ve seen him. It passes soon, however, when he gets the words out; “... maybe over a drink?”

Oh .

Okay.

So it’s not just you who feels like this.

Relief hits you first. Then a little gleeful sensation that you haven’t felt in a long while, followed by a burst of anxiety – but you’re not going to overthink this part, you assure yourself. There’s no point. It’ll just get you as worked up as it did yesterday, and then you’ll be filled with something worse than fear or embarrassment: regret .

Besides, Bokuto seems just as he did during the session yesterday. There’s no impatience, no ‘ oh god I have to calm down this random person who’s gotten themselves stressed out for no reason’, no sign that he’s feeling anything other than enthusiasm at getting to have this conversation.

And so you happily add two more drinks to Kenma’s tab.

“By the way … Kuro never actually told me that he knew you ,” you explain finally, once Bokuto’s finished one of his college stories. You’re not drunk, barely even tipsy, but the glass of wine has definitely made it easier for you to flirt back. “If I’d known, I probably would’ve tried to put on a braver face yesterday.”

“Are you kidding? You took it like a champ.”

You roll your eyes without any malice. “ No , I didn’t.”

“You did!” he insists.

“I didn’t. ”

“Yes, you did.”

You scoff. “Well, if I did, it’s thanks to you .”

His eyes glint as they scan your face. “Whatcha mean?”

“You kept me sane. Couldn’t have done it if it weren’t for you, honestly.”

You lift a hand and rest it against his tattooed forearm, surprised at the taut muscles that flex under your touch.

Brave. You can be brave for the second day in a row.

“You up for another?”

___

After you buy two more drinks, things move so quickly that neither of you even gets to finish them.

You’re not sure who made the first move - it might have been him, with the way his eyes sought out your lips at every possible opportunity; or it might have been you, with the way your hand didn’t budge from its place resting against his arm - but all that’s important is that one of you did make it.

Or maybe both of you did.

But it doesn’t matter, because now you’re outside the bar with your back pressed up against the cool stone wall, making out like a couple of desperate teenagers.

Despite the cold air surrounding you, everything feels hot; Bokuto’s lips crushing against yours, his tongue tracing against your kiss-swollen mouth, his hands on your waist as they pull you closer.

Your skin almost burns under his touch. You get lost in it.

It’s only when he pulls away, expression torn as though it pains him to do it, that you manage to collect your thoughts into some coherent order.

You’ve long moved past the tipsy sensation you felt earlier, but your head spins for a different reason as you brace yourself against his strong shoulders, feeling light-headed in the best way possible.

“Wanna-” he begins, pausing as if worried you’ll say no. You’re already nodding before he even finishes the sentence, and he laughs before leaning in to kiss you again.

“Where do you live?” you ask, pulling back a millimetre or two, and he answers. “My place is closer,” you explain then, tugging him away towards the street to flag down a taxi.

In the cab, you check your phone as Bokuto rests a hand on your thigh, hoping to fire off a quick text to Alisa to let her know where you’ve gone.

Instead, you see that Kuroo, obviously having felt a little guilty from earlier, has sent you a couple of messages expressing his remorse.

Kuroo: You okay?

Kuroo: Sorry for messing with you. Bo’s a good guy. he won’t give you a tough time about anything

Kuroo: I think you’ll really like him

You grin. He has no idea.

You: All fine, and all is forgiven

You: Your peer pressure paid off for once

You: Just don’t do it again or I’m pretty sure Alisa will kill you :)

With that, you slip your phone back into your pocket and rest your hand over Bokuto’s.

The very moment you pass the threshold of your apartment, his mouth is on you once again; the cool metal of his lip ring contrasts with the heat of the kiss, sending pulses of desire through your core. Your flick against it with your tongue and his eyes darken delightedly, pupils blown out with desire matching your own.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to reach the bedroom, shedding clothes down the hallway as you do so - a shirt tossed here, a pair of shoes thrown there - and soon you’re collapsing onto your bed in a messy tangle of limbs and bitten-off moans.

After a few moments, lifts his head up and grins, eyes travelling around your room. Your head rests against the pillow as you try to follow his gaze to see what exactly he’s looking at.

“Makes sense,” he mumbles fondly. “The design for your tattoo.”

Glancing at your sunflower-covered bedspread, the pressed petals framed on the wall, and the various other splashes of sunny yellow decorating your room, you accept his point with an airy laugh.

However, you’re not willing to dwell on it for too much longer – there are more pressing things at hand. Finally, you lift a trembling hand and tangle it in his hair, finding that it’s somehow softer than you even imagined.

You move your lips to this throat to kiss and suck and bite, and without you having to ask, he tips his head back to allow you more room, whispering your name in a heated and desperately low voice. He hisses as your pecks against his skin turn a little firmer, knowing there’d be a mark left were it not for the tattoos trailing up his neck. Now that he’s not wearing anything, you see the design trails down the broad expanse of his chest, over his firm pecs, further down until -

He pulls you up into his lap and you let out a startled yelp that quickly turns into an almost pitiful mewl of pleasure. You rock back and forth against one of his impossibly thick thighs, marvelling at the solid muscle of his body as he takes your hips in his hands and guides your movements.

You spend the next few minutes like this, grinding helplessly against him as tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, with him just watching you with an expression that can only be described as awe-struck. He pays no attention to bulge in his own underwear, even though it’s so hard it looks almost painful – he is fixated on you, on your reactions, on the movements that draw desperate little breaths from you and the ones that make your back arch further.

“Feel good?” he asks, almost dazed, hands running slowly up and down your thighs as you fuck yourself against him.

“Mmhmm,” you answer – redundantly, given the other sounds that flow from your lips, “need more, though, p-please.”

He doesn’t need any further instruction, flipping you to lie flat on your back and going to spread your thighs which part easily for him.

Turns out he’s more than talented with his tongue as well.

After what seems like hours of him taking you apart - of you gasping when the lip ring grazes against your sensitive flesh, of you begging for his fingers which he angles just right, of him voicing his own approval at your moans and taste and the way your thighs tighten around his face - he finally sits back on his haunches and gives you a look that you instantly recognise.

Eagerly, you roll onto your side and fetch a condom from the box in the nightstand. When you hand it to him, he finally, finally, slips out of his underwear - you can’t help how your eyes widen at the sight - then only just about manages to put on the condom before you hook your legs around his lower back and pull him on top of you.

Although he lets out a chuckle at your enthusiasm, he angles you so carefully, and you realise with a soft ache in your chest that he’s trying his best to avoid touching the still-raw skin near your tattoo.

“It’s fine,” you whisper breathily. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

He replies by raising your arm so it’s resting by your head on the pillow. “Still, if you need to take a break or stop, just say, ‘kay?”

You agree without hesitation.

Then, he brings his hips down until they’re flush against your own, his cock slowly and tantalisingly pushing through your folds to allow the anticipation to build (and for you to adjust to his size). But after how long he’s spent preparing you, he’s met with absolutely no resistance – on the contrary, you find yourself mumbling incoherent, slurred words that sound an awful lot like begging.

“Can - can you-”

He kisses your jawline, the sensation of the ring making you shiver once again. “Can I what, hm?”

“Can you please-” a short, shallow thrust has you gasping mid-sentence, “ please fuck me?”

You almost cry out when he starts to thrust in earnest, slowly at first and then quicker and quicker once he fully surrenders to his own desperation. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with breathy moans and gasps start to echo around you, along with the tell-tale banging of your headboard against the wall.

His thrusts grow hard, almost punishing, but the way he cups your face tenderly in his hands shows that his intentions are not to overwhelm but to give you what you need; you hadn’t realised it, but your hips had started to cant up to meet his every stroke.

He praises you, too. Tells you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him, how he could do this forever. Every word out of his mouth makes you grip him tighter, your nails undoubtedly leaving marks against his shoulders.

It doesn’t take long for you to come for him again. He doesn’t stop or slow down his movement; he lets you whimper and cry out against his muscled chest as you come down from your high, holding you close as his thrusts turn sloppy and erratic.

He curses through gritted teeth as he comes, letting out a low moan that sends aftershocks through you. He thrusts deep and stays there; his face in that moment, so blissful and fucked-out, is one of the most gorgeous things you think you’ve ever seen.

You stay like that for a while, boneless and utterly content, before he goes to remove the condom and wash up as you catch your breath.

When he returns, there’s no awkwardness. No overthinking. You ask for him to stay the night, and he does. He sleeps soundly in your bed with his arms wrapped around you.

It’s a strange sort of comfort you don’t often find with people, let alone someone you barely know. But he makes it easy to get to know him, and you’re all too delighted to learn more.

He stays for a while the next morning. He cooks breakfast, you make the coffee.

Things are much more straightforward from that point on.

___

You get your second tattoo exactly a year later.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t still a little nervous at the prospect of a needle so close to you, but it pales in comparison to the anxiety of your first one. This time, you find yourself looking forward to it more than you do worry.

“Ready for round two?” Bokuto asks, pressing a kiss to your forehead before starting to get the station set up. The shop is closed, the manager having let you stay late for the occasion, and the peace and quiet only add to your newfound level-headedness.

Just you and Bokuto. You can do this.

You nod without hesitation, lying back on the table as though you’re a seasoned veteran. “No freaking out this time.”

He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance but the affectionate laughter cuts through it. “Still think I’m scary, huh?”

You shrug. “Not as much anymore.”

“Well, guess I can live with that.”

When the needle starts to whirr, it doesn’t make you jump. There’s no feeling of panic or dread.

This tattoo is over quickly, like the last one, but it’s far more meaningful – you like sunflowers, sure, but you like this one better. You didn’t need to over-analyse the design since you can see exactly what it looks like on someone else.

Bokuto has an identical one freshly tattooed on his ring finger.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #timeskip bokuto #timeskip bokuto x reader #hq #haikyuu #may tries to write

152 notes · View notes

skylarmoon71 · 2 years

Text

HR Wells (Flash) - Chapter 1

“Dr. Wells, good morning!”

He always anticipated the peppy response.

“Good morning Ms. Rivers. You seem to be in good spirits. Does it have anything to do with a certain birthday?”

“My birthday?” Your brows furrow. Then you look down at your watch.

Wow, was life so hectic that you forgot your own birthday. That did explain the two miss calls you’d just gotten from your parents. When you pull out your phone, it’s then you read the notifications. You smile.

I-I really didn’t expect anyone to remember. I myself kind of forgot. ” You’d been so caught in all that was happening in Star Labs. With all the metas running around, rest was not always a guarantee.

“I apologize. I suppose with our schedule it does make it difficult to attend any other activities.” You brush it off. “Come on, you're literally protecting the city.”

“From the danger I caused.”

He looks somewhat dejected, and you swallow. You knew he shoulders quite a bit of responsibility.

“It’s not your fault. No one could have predicted the outcome of your machine."

“I should have been better.” He turns his head, and you reach out. Your hand rests over his as you offer a smile.

“I think it’s about time you forgave yourself. You’ve done so much for the people in this city. For Barry. Hell it’s thanks to you that we caught the man in the yellow suit. So just take the wins as they come, okay?” He looks down for a moment, then removes his glasses. When he looks up, his smile looks a bit sad.

“I’d hope that this could have been delayed for just a bit longer. “ The confusion is written on your face.

“Delayed, what are you talking about?”

That's when you feel the wind hit your back.

“(Y/N)!!” You turn at Barry’s call. You’re about to question the urgency of his call. But the team begins making their way inside. With your back turned to Eobard, you're terrified of why they all look so scared.

“B-Barry, Cisco, guys, what's wrong.” Joe and Caitlin are also there.

“Poor timing indeed.” Dr. Wells says.

You look back, and you barely believe it when he stands up. Titling his head to the side, he stretches, a smirk making its way on his face.

“D-Dr. Wells…what’s going on.” His gaze directs back on you.

“Call me Thawne, Eobard Thawne.”

Barry races forward, but he’s not fast enough. One of Eobard’s hands is locked around your neck. You let out a shaky breath, and Barry is just standing there, just as frightened as you are. Joe raises his gun.

“Let her go.” He warns.

“Not how this works. How about I make a deal.” Barry’s jaw is clenched painfully. Your shoulders are shaking terribly.

“P-Please don’t..don’t hurt me..”

There’s no way you could have predicted that this would be the course of your day.

“Let me leave here with her and I’ll never bother you again. “ The request adds to your horror. What else could he possibly want with you?

“You’re crazy if you think we’ll let that happen!” Barry yells.

“It’s not your choice to make. I’ll leave here with her, or ” He lifts his hand, and it starts vibrating. Barry suddenly doesn’t look so sure.

You swallow.

“I-I’ll go with you.”

“(Y/N) you can’t-”

You shake your head at Barry protests, and a tear runs down your cheek. It’s clear you don’t want this. But it’s become apparent that he may kill you and the rest of them.

“I’ll be fine.” You don’t truly believe those words.

“How noble of you, but just in case Barry gets any ideas.” Eobard clicks a button in his hand, and Barry yells out. You scream when you see his legs buckle as he falls unconscious. Caitlin and Cisco drop to assist.

Just like that Eobard is gone, and so are you.

~Present~

“Harry quit being a dick and give it back!!”

Once again the duo are bickering.

“Do I have to shoot someone?” You cock your gun, and Cisco straightens.

“No ma’am!” He salutes, and you chuckle. In a matter of seconds he’s running over to you, hugging you tightly. You laugh, returning the hug.

“I missed you too Cisco.” Harry is wearing that perpetual frown, and you giggle.

“Glad you’re back. Maybe now Ramon will stop being an imbecile. “

“Hey!”

“Harry, you know sometimes you can at least pretend to be nice.” He just grumbles. Caitlin smiles when she catches sight of you, and so does Barry.

“We really didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“Bounty Hunting is time consuming but very fulfilling. Last guy I caught tried to pay me to let him go. It was so cute.”

“I’m beginning to worry that you’re spending a considerable amount of time with Mr. Queen.” Harry inputs.

“Are you kidding me, Oliver is the best. Did you know that if you shoot someone in the-”

“Okay! On to less painful topics.” Cisco says cheerily.

Dropping your bag, you’re about to pull out some of the little souvenirs you picked up from your trip.

“Ah, and who is this? A new friend!” The excited voice confuses you. You’re a bit startled at the other man. You raise your gun on instinct, and he raises his hands.

“Don’t shoot!” Barry yells.

“He’s a friend.” Cisco says moving and lowering the gun for you. “That’s it, easy girl.”

“Why is there another Wells here!!”

“HR Wells, nice to meet you.” He bowed, tipping his hat.

Barry chuckles nervously when you send him a pointed look.

“It’s a long story. But he’s here now, and he’s a part of the team. “

HR had that perpetual smile on his face, far different from all the other Wells you’d met. You take a step back, holstering your gun. You make a sharp turn, and they all send you a worried look.

“Was it something I said?” HR questions.

Harry just lets out an annoyed sound.

Barry is the one that finds you. You’ve gravitated to a room in the lab. He knocks, and you raise your head. This particular area was set up like a mini gym, with a bed for when you just didn’t have the energy to make it back to your apartment.

“You okay?”

You just grab the boxing gloves.

“I was fine when Harry came along. Think I can handle another messy Wells. He just caught me by surprise. For a second I..” you swallow. It takes you a few seconds, but you inhale, and then prep to start practicing.

“You don’t have to worry.”

“No one is asking you to pretend. When you came back after what happened you..(Y/N) you never once talked about it. Joe told me that you went to therapy, but still."

“It’s in the past. Bringing that up now won’t do anyone good. “

Barry watches as you once again put up a wall. One you’d built shortly after the encounter with Eobard. He’d taken you for three days. When they finally found you, it was in a hospital. As the doctors put it, you were lucky to be alive.

Barry spent every free moment he had in the hospital until you were back on your feet. When you finally recovered, you were different. He expected it. He knew it was your way of working through whatever happened, but it changed you. A part of your trust and security had been stripped that day, and he knew that although your external wounds had healed, the internal ones hadn’t.

And it felt like it was his fault.

29 notes · View notes

mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years

Text

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Five)

Word Count- 3921

Morning had come around a lot quicker than you had hoped it would, the sunlight peeking through the curtains and birds singing outside making drifting back off an impossible task. Though you felt well rested, you simply just didn't want to move anywhere any time soon. Last night had begun with Mycroft shyly placing his hand on your hip as your back pressed close to his chest, but this morning had ended with Mycroft on his back and you with your head resting between his chest and shoulder, hand crossing over with fingers hooked over the pyjama's pocket. You'd never expected to be the type to wake up earlier than Mycroft Holmes, particularly not two days on the bounce, but you wouldn't complain. He looked so peaceful as he slept, the sunlight turning his auburn hair far more ginger, his freckles on his nose matching. You slowly reached one arm backwards, blindly feeling around for your phone on the bedside table and reading through your messages. You grinned seeing a text from Greg and had to fight the small laugh that threatened to escape you.

'Hey, just thought I'd check in on you both and see how you're getting on. I hate to feel pushy but we do really need to start that paperwork, today ideally. Figured I'd pop round later if it's alright- I need a sodding nap first though. Spent the majority of last night receiving phone calls about mysterious activity around St James', load of dodgy cars sending people away, loads of papers.. don't suppose you saw any of that down your way did you, makes life easier?"

Your fingers typed a response- 'Uhh..guilty as charged.. Myc was in jeans and a Who top, daren't be seen by the public..I'll get him to fix it when he's up x'- a grin playing on your face. Yeah okay you felt a little bad, but Greg had dealt with worse. After pressing send, you scrolled further through your notifications, spotting one from John. Nothing major, just checking in and inviting you both over for late lunch, mentioning briefly how it'll do Sherlock some good seeing his brother, even if he doesn't believe it himself- evidently also receiving a message from Greg as he also explained how it would make Lestrade have to do one less visit for paperwork if you popped over a little earlier. Before you could type an answer, you felt Mycroft shift beneath you, stretching out the arm that wasn't trapped beneath your body.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty." You teased, turning your head and placing a small kiss on the Holmes' chin. Mycroft blinked, rubbing his eyes and offering you a 'good morning' in response as he eyed up you typing on your phone.

"Needed to be whisked away to catch a criminal mastermind already?" He asked, sitting up a little as you moved to give him a little more space, his arm still loosely tucked behind your back, though his torso now free.

"Your deductions in the morning are lacking.. though close. Mastermind, but not criminal. John and Sherlock have invited us to late lunch, Greg's popping over to start the first part of paperwork handling, only the basic stuff this time round, so figured it would make it easier on him only having to go to one home before we left." Mycroft breathed deeply, fingers raising to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I think I'd have rathered the criminal." He spoke, already mentally planning the afternoon, the conversations he would likely have, the way Sherlock would behave. What if he still hadn't forgiven him? It was surprising enough that you had let him off so easily, but Sherlock was different. Sherlock was a Holmes, and someone of whom already had feudal tendencies with Mycroft, it was bound to end terribly. As though you had read his mind, you moved your hand to take his from his face as you noticed his fingertips whitening as he pinched harder.

"Hey, it'll be fine. He doesn't blame you, he's been far too silent for that to be the case. From the way John sounded, it actually seemed more like he was worried about you, though you know he'd never admit that." Mycroft hummed in response, not being able to find the right words to say before reaching over and grabbing his own mobile. "World ending yet?"

"Not yet. Though with any luck, quarrels could happen before lunch." He mused, one side of his mouth raising slightly in a playful smirk.

"Mycroft you can't wish for conflicts amongst empires to get out of a meal with your brother."

"Can't I?" He raised a brow.

"Anthea wouldn't allow it anyway. We're on strict instruction to not go into work for the next couple of weeks, nations be damned. Lunch sounds far more appealing too." You slid yourself out of bed and grabbed one of the bags from Anthea that you brought upstairs last night, taking a handful of clothing items and tucking them under your arm.

"But it isn't lunch, is it? It's LATE Lunch, settled approximately around 3pm, too late for lunch, too early for dinner. It's impractical by any means; you starve yourself at real lunch so you do not ruin your appetite, and then by dinner time you're hungry once again. And if you eat at both of those times as well as the late lunch, your feeding schedules become on par with a bloody Hobbit." You rolled your eyes and headed to the bathroom. "Though you may be more accustomed to such choices given the height similarity between yourself and Mr Brandybuck."

"Cheeky sod, not all of us have glorious Holmesian legs. I'm sure you'll survive a few hours.. Oh, you also owe Greg an apology." You chuckled, opening the message back up and tossing your phone in the general direction of Mycroft's lap before going to get dressed. After reading the message, you heard Mycroft let out a laugh from the other room, the rare kind that you knew made the sides of his eyes crease and his head tip back slightly in amusement; you were sorry you missed it.

Leaving the bathroom, you couldn't help but notice the silk pyjama clad man standing mindlessly in front of his open wardrobe, glancing over each individual item of clothing. Wandering behind him, you moved up on your tiptoes and peered over his shoulder at the rows of suits. You were still dressed relatively comfortably in a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt, which you felt was appropriate for the later meal that would likely be somewhere like Angelo's- but you equally knew that Mycroft's idea of 'comfort' lay within his three pieces, pocket squares and oxfords.

"Don't panic, I'm not going to begrudge you of your precious suits today. You deserve it after actually going through with my wardrobe choice for you.. I didn't actually expect you to do it." You laughed, squeezing his shoulder fondly. "We slept in late again, there's barely any morning left." You commented, glancing over at the clock that read 10:53am. "Can I tempt you in Elevenses, Mr Baggins?" You grinned, your Lord of the Rings reference not being missed by Mycroft. He cast you a playful glare, fighting the urge to childishly poke his two fingers up at you. "What? Not judging my bedside manner this time?"

"It is useless to meet revenge with revenge; it solves nothing." He quoted Frodo without hesitation, bastard probably already planned that you'd quip back with something smart and already armed himself with Shire related comebacks. You, in contrast to Mycroft, did have the tendencies to become childish and did opt for the two fingered response, an adoring smile unnaturally paired.

Not many people got to know of Mycroft's little nerdy side, and you took pride in being one of the few that did, though you took more pride in him for being able to easily reel off the quotes. Though he had told you before that The Lord of the Rings trilogy had been his favourite of everything you made him watch, then when he read the books? You wouldn't hear from him for hours at a time while he binge read through them for the tenth time round, and of course you had noticed the varying editions of the three books on his bookshelf in his personal office, rather than lining the shelves in his small library room. If anything, it just made him more endearing.

Though it was nothing compared with his love of Doctor Who. Bless his heart, you had taken him to watch David Tennant's Richard II a few years ago for his birthday and he was insistent on waiting behind after the performance to catch David leaving and got him to sign his special edition box set of his DW seasons. He even had a photo taken with him, his expression being easily comparable to the likes of a child who just got a puppy for Christmas- and, much to his dismay, the photograph had had a prime place on your desk at NSY since the event.

You made your way downstairs, calling out something about making omelettes and leaving Mycroft alone to get ready. His fingers skimmed across the expensive fabrics, tugging out an olive green suit and red tie and pocket square to match. The smell of the food you were preparing began to fill his nose, making his stomach growl as he rushed to the bathroom to get dressed. After removing his pyjama top, Mycroft caught a glance of himself in the mirror, prodding at the pudge of his stomach that settled just over his pyjama bottoms, before sucking in flat and looking again. Maybe he should forego the omelette and just wait until later.. another growl.. okay maybe just a little, just so he didn't raise suspicion. He sighed, stomach relaxing back to its natural state before finishing his morning routine, tugging his trousers up a little higher than usual to tuck away the offending belly fat.

Mycroft had always suffered with his weight, he knew that. He also knew of his past, how he would skip meals, or spend hours upon hours on his treadmill, or the time he was under Doctor Chinnery for just shy of three years following his habits of completing his meals with his fingers down the back of his throat over the toilet just after his job promotions exceeded and he found himself in much higher rankings- public appearance being far more important than any personal preference. Though his eating disorder had improved, the years of therapy didn't miraculously improve his self-confidence. It was one of the many reasons he preferred inviting others for dinners, or at the very least having his days to himself when he knew he would be going out later in the evening. Spontaneous meals out like the one he would be attending in a few hours, or having somebody at home with him while he waited for said meals threw him off balance completely- his usual routine of fasting beforehand as to not appear rude or raise suspicions when he ate in public being disturbed significantly. You knew of his past, deduced it, actually, and had been nothing but supportive, trying your best to convince him for years that he was perfectly healthy and encouraging him to eat better, to actually consume meals. He was thankful, of course he was, but it didn't help his insecurities around you, no matter how welcoming you had been or however many compliments you gave him. His body was covered in stretch marks and areas of loose skin from his weight loss over the years, his chest hair, though scarce, was a coppery ginger and his body was covered in so many freckles he looked like an explosion at a dot to dot factory. It led him to remember the other reason why he had never previously attempted to pursue a relationship with you; if he was disgusted and horrified at the appearance of his nude body then what on earth would you think when that time eventually came around? He daren't even try to imagine your face. You'd worked with Sherlock long enough to have seen him wander around naked and Mycroft had to admit that his brother at least had a body worth parading about in the nude, then there was Gregory who, despite not having an exactly chiseled body, still had the rugged good looks and toned chest- a physique that clearly represented the physical aspects of his occupation- there was no doubt you'd compare him to them and he would come up short every time.

"Myc? You gonna be long? Yours is going to be freezing!" Your voice had knocked him out of his thoughts and he quickly shrugged on the rest of his clothes, straightening his tie in the mirror and plastering on a small smile as he headed downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Apologies.. the cufflinks failed in succession to cooperate at first." You had eyed him suspiciously, knowing that Mycroft had worn enough suits in his lifetime that he could probably find a way to put one on to completion in 5 minutes in the dark with oven mitts on.

"I know I've been so against the suits, but I have to admit that you look incredible.. I think that one's my new favourite." You commented casually, placing a quick kiss to his temple as he sat at the table. "That colour is lovely." He quirked a brow.

"New favourite? You've had old ones?"

"Obviously." Imitating Sherlock. "Charcoal pinstripe with that light blue shirt- brings your eyes out wonderfully... and your bum." You winked, positively enjoying the pink that dusted the man's cheeks, and the way he would open his mouth to speak and then close it before any words came out. In his defence, he was really not used to receiving such compliments. And in your defence, you weren't particularly used to giving them, not like that anyway. You'd blame Greg, he was a terrible influence and an incredible flirt- using his charm to at the very least try and make you laugh when you had shitty days.

You lay his plate in front of him, a coffee to its side, before beginning to tuck into your own meal. You had learned early on that if you didn't wait until Mycroft was able to eat then he likely wouldn't eat at all. While drinking his coffee fairly happily, you hadn't missed that the vast majority of Mycroft's breakfast was still on the plate, cut in smaller pieces and rearranged to appear as though he had eaten more than he truly had. Frowning, you didn't press- knowing better than to point out his behaviour and just being thankful he had eaten anything at all (about a third of the omelette and half a slice of toast if your judgements were correct) but had elected to keep an eye on him. You finished your own food in silence before crossing the cutlery over on your plate and beginning to speak.

"I figured if we left now we could have a bit of time for you to go through the first set of paperwork, Greg should be getting there in the next 10 minutes or so, and then by the time we finish and have a cup of tea it'll be time to go out." You suggested, taking Mycroft's plate to clear away after he had sent a nod to show he was finished. He made a small groan at the need to go at all, but soon acquiesced, sent a text for a car and stood to go to the front door. Tugging on a hoodie, you opened the door and took a step back, the wind shooting in your face and making you scowl. Mycroft made an amused sound and offered you the scarf of his that you had worn last night. Rather than taking the garment, you stood and waited for him to wrap it the same expert way that he had the night before. "I also text Greg to run by my flat and grab my coat so I'll be able to stop stealing your expensive scarves soon.. though this one feels so lovely I may text him again to leave it on the tube." You laughed, stepping back outside once again and walking with Mycroft to the end of the road where a car was waiting. Mycroft had wanted to respond, to make a comment about how he didn't mind letting you wear his things, how he actually quite liked it. But he stayed silent, offering a small smile instead and a soft hand at the small of your back. Mycroft opened the door for you, climbing in after and settling against the plush seats of the lavish car.

As the car began to move you tensed a little, a thought popping into your head.

"Myc.. does Sherlock know yet? About us? I might have hinted at it a little when I spoke to Lestrade earlier but I didn't press.. I just.. I didn't know if you were telling people." You asked awkwardly. Christ it made it sound like you were in some forbidden relationship. Mycroft's jaw clenched a little.

"I wasn't aware it was secret knowledge, if that's what you are asking Y/N. In response to your question, no. I haven't spoken to Sherlock at all since.." He trailed. "And I am not the sort of man to walk into a room and actively announce that kind of thing. But you should know that he will likely deduce it the moment we walk through the door being as you are wearing my clothing, your hair smells like my shampoo and your skin still has traces of the scent of my soap. So if you didn't want anybody to know, then I strongly suggest we rearrange our plans for this afternoon." Who was he kidding? Of course you didn't want people to know that you were actually together now- you would look ridiculous being such a pretty young woman with a man like Mycroft in tow. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. "If you are going to say you could argue the soaps then it would simply be futile, he knows I have your regular brand at your disposal; he'd know you used mine in the form of... sentiment." The last word felt wrong on his tongue now, knowing you had hoped to keep your.. relationship.. behind closed doors. Mycroft Holmes was a very private man, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't want knowledge of your relationship to be at least semi-public, having felt a little giddy when you'd chosen to cross that line with him.

"What? No, I wasn't going to talk about the sodding shampoo." You grinned, reaching a hand over to place on his knee. "Jesus Myc, I asked because I didn't know if YOU were comfortable with people knowing. I'm pretty sure everyone inside that flat knew I fancied you the last few years, I'd proudly walk in and show that my pining eventually paid off. I just know you have appearances to keep up and I didn't want to ruin that, or embarrass you in front of Sherlock." For what seemed like the millionth time in the last few days, your words surprised Mycroft. He felt his jaw loosen and he took a breath, moving only to briefly place his hand over yours for a small squeeze and moving back again. You didn't expect him to say much, he was Mycroft Holmes, not Romeo Montague, but the small smile you sent back his way let him know that you understood his thoughts. The drive to Baker Street was only 10 or so minutes from Mycroft's home so you soon arrived in no time at all, the slick black car smoothly pulling up outside number 221.

"I can only hope my dear brother deduces our relationship correctly and doesn't make a vast attempt to embarrass me in front of his peers.. again." Mycroft knocked on the door, his words casting you back to a Christmas you had all shared a couple years ago.

It was a small gathering, consisting of the pair of you, the Baker Street boys, Greg and Mrs Hudson, and a few weeks beforehand, after multiple arguments of whether or not presents should be shared, Mrs Hudson had come up with the wonderful (terrible) idea of secret Santa which, incase you wasn't aware, isn't a fun game when played with two Holmes' that knew everybody's present and Secret Santa before the packages were opened. You had pulled Mrs Hudson and couldn't have been more thrilled, neither could she when she opened her new tea set- a simple floral design decorated its sides, but she was thankful no matter the pattern, the last teapot having been found at the hands of Sherlock housing human eyes. Conveniently enough, Mycroft had pulled your name and elected to subtly buy you a personalised travel mug for work. After you had opened it, Sherlock had scoffed, muttering something along the lines of "Mycroft isn't that shit at buying presents. He bought you a necklace at first but felt too embarrassed to give it to you in such a public setting and panic bought that cup." Continuing on about how Mycroft had put a lot of thought into your original gift and how it was unusual and how it "obviously" meant he favoured you and was attracted to you. Mycroft had left shortly after that, not making eye contact with any of the silent people in the room and climbed into the back of his car, but you had followed suit and clambered in after him- easing the tension by ignoring Sherlock's allegations and giving him the envelope that you had in your pocket. You had told him you had bought him something special anyway, even though he wasn't who you were supposed to buy for, because you cared for and appreciated him- he had opened the envelope slowly and his eyes widened, that rare smile appearing on his face when he was presented with the Richard II tickets. After your exchange Mycroft had given you the necklace anyway, spouting derogatives about his brother's deductions as he did so. It was a small silver chain necklace with a sparkling silver pendant that, upon closer inspection, you had noticed was a police badge.

You smiled fondly at the memory and instinctively placed your hand above your sternum, feeling the small piece of metal beneath your clothing that you hadn't taken off in two years. You turned to face the man beside you a little more, placing a hand on his shoulder and reaching up on your tiptoes to place a lingering kiss on his lips, moving back only when you heard the latch unlock in front of you, and noticing the ever so slight pink tinge to Mycroft's bottom lip from the lip balm you had put on earlier. "That should make it easier to get it right." You commented, fighting the small grin from your face as you noticed Mycroft standing in the same way, lips parted slightly from where your own had been moments ago, a matching pink dusting his cheekbones. The door opened revealing a smug looking Sherlock.

"Be careful Mycroft, you'll catch flies like that if you aren't cautious enough."

172 notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 3 years

Text

by the way | jungkook

→ summary: there are only two weeks left until graduation—which means you only have two weeks left until you’ll be nothing more than a facebook birthday notification on his phone (unless you do something about it, of course.) → genre: high school!au, humor, slight angst → warnings: none unless you’re terrified of two idiots mutually pining for e/o → words: 1.2K → a/n: ain’t it kinda weird that there were some people you met in high school that you considered your “friend” but never kept in touch with them after graduation? like ships that have sailed past each other, only being left with some hope of crossing someday. idk, high school was weird. anyway, enjoy!

—part of the bgw drabble marathon (Tropes #5)—

“So, have you asked anyone out to the graduation ball yet?” Hoseok asks you suddenly, his words muffled by the disgusting amount of pasta in his mouth.

From the corner of your eye, Jungkook’s shoulders tense. You don’t mean to notice—you weren’t even supposed to be looking at him. He has his gaze trained downwards, shooting lasers at his rice with enough intensity to cook it twice over.

“No, I haven’t,” you respond eventually.

“Time is running out you know! It wouldn’t look good if the class valedictorian arrived at the party without some good ol’ eye candy,” Hoseok says.

You scoff, taking a sip of your lukewarm apple juice. “Who says I need a man to make me look good?”

“Or woman, for that matter!” Chaeyoung pipes up. She wiggles her eyebrows, leaning across the lunch table until her chest almost gets a platter full of greasy cafeteria pizza. “You know, the offer is still open. I guarantee that if we went together, we’d be the prettiest bitches in the entire ballroom!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re right, we would be… minus the fact that you’ve been pining over Eunbi for God knows how long, and it would be seriously shitty of me to deny you your last chance of getting together with her.”

Chaeyoung leans back, acquiesced. “Alright, you got me there,” she sighs, crossing her arms. “Still, you know I would drop everything and anything if you asked.”

“Not me though, I’m a selfish whore,” Jimin interrupts, reaching his minimum quota of giving his unsolicited opinion. He points finger guns at you. “I’m bringing my hot and sexy college boyfriend to the ball.”

“Oh right, how could we ever forget your mysterious ‘college’ boyfriend,” Hoseok scoffs, the quotation marks audible in his voice. “The one that we’ve never seen or heard of before, and also conveniently lives in a different city that is miles from here? That boyfriend?”

“Shut up!” Jimin glares, pointing his sharpened acrylic nail at him. “You’ll eat your words once you see how fucking gorgeous and hot and REAL my boyfriend is!” He turns to you, brows still quirked in irritation. “Anyway, as I was saying. Even though I’m going to the ball with my snookywookums, I’m willing to scout a date for you if you want.”

“I don’t think snookywookums is a Scrabble-verified word,” Hoseok says under his breath, nearly causing you to snort your pasta up your nose.

“T-Thank you, Jimin,” you say, coughing through your laughter. Lucky for Hoseok, Jimin’s massive ego doubles as a noise-cancelling material. “But I’m fine, really. I’m more than happy just hanging out with my best friends over some random guy.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Chaeyoung coos, pinching your cheeks.

“–and also improbable,” Hoseok snorts. “These two whores are definitely gonna spend that entire night fucking their dates,” Hoseok says, jabbing his thumb at your resident bimbo-himbo combo, “while I will be busy with DJ-ing at the event, so you’re pretty much outta luck, chief.”

“What the fuck? You’re gonna DJ at our fucking graduation ball?” you squawk. “Why the hell would you volunteer to do that?”

“For… experience?”

“Really.”

Hoseok raises his hands in surrender with a pout. “Okay, fine. Maybe I wanted to impress Namjoon. Fucking sue me for being a hypocrite!”

“Ahah! The ogre has fallen in love with the prince!” Jimin hollers, earning himself a pinch in the tit from Hoseok.

You huff, annoyed. “Am I really being abandoned by all my friends? On one of our final days together as classmates before we inevitably part ways towards adulthood?”

A beat of guilty silence. Then:

“Yep!

“Totally!”

“You guys suck!”

You groan in defeat, rolling your eyes. “Fine then! I guess Jungkook and I will have to entertain each other, right Kook?”

The boy in question, who had been eerily quiet this entire lunch period, jolts in his seat after suddenly being addressed. His elbow hits the table with a bang, causing an impressive string of expletives to spill from his mouth.

Jimin snorts, amused. “Damn, you good? What’s got loverboy all jumpy?”

“Don’t call me loverboy,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as he cradles his injured elbow.

“Well someone clearly pissed in your Cheerios. What’s up? Why are you being all broody and sulky?” Hoseok asks.

“I’m not being broody,” Jungkook says broodily. For a brief moment, your gaze catches his, but he quickly averts his eyes before you can get a good glimpse at the unknown emotion that tints them. “I just… got a bad grade in Chemistry. That’s all.”

“First time? I guess senioritis doesn’t hit all of us the same,” Jimin sniffs. “By the way, Kook. Do you have a date for the ball? If you do, then we can all shame Y/N into looking for a date and not feel guilty about it.”

“Hey!” you whine, but your attention is focused on Jungkook. You hold your breath, a looming sense of dread rising up your stomach like bile. A desperate plea rings through your head, crying out, “Please say you’ll go with me.”

As friends, you remind yourself.

Sure Jan, your inner voice replies.

Jungkook barks out a laugh, but it sounds hollow. “I, umm…” he trails off, fidgeting in his seat awkwardly. He puts down his chopsticks, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans. “I’m still, uh, working up the courage to ask her…”

“HER?! YOU LIKE GIRLS?” Chaeyoung screams, horrified. “Then why the FUCK have you been rejecting all those poor girls for the past four years?”

“I just wasn’t interested, I guess,” he shrugs. He pauses. “Wait, did you not know I was straight?”

“Kookie, I don’t know if you haven’t noticed, but you recoil like a raccoon being spritzed with water every time a woman so much as looks at you,” Hoseok points out.

“I’m just shy,” he grumbles.

To your left, Jimin nudges you gently. “Did you know?” he whispers, brows arched.

“Of course I did,” you snap. “That boy uses five-in-one shampoo and soap.”

Jimin leans back into his seat, a mystified expression on his face. “Damn, you’re right. And here I thought you just liked pining over him because you were a masochist.”

You choke on your own spit, feeling as though a large stone has just been dropped on your esophagus. You whirl towards Jimin with a death glare, but the shithead barely flinches in response. “What the fuck did you just say?” you seethe, panic clear in your voice.

“What did you say?” Jungkook repeats after you, jaw agape. You both make eye contact, and you notice the way Jungkook’s cheeks have flushed a deep red. You have no doubt in your mind that you aren’t faring any better. Shit!

“Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that,” Hoseok interrupts. He gestures to the clock by the wall, which shows that your lunch period is about to end. He slams his lunch container shut, a large smirk on his face. “But this will definitely be a fun conversation for later, and I want front row seats.”

“Ditto! Text me once you’re out of your last class, okay?” Chaeyoung says, standing up with Hoseok. She blows a kiss your way and pats Jungkook endearingly on the head. “You guys have English together, right? Should be fun!”

“Gotta blast,” Jimin says, scrambling out of his seat before you can snap out of your daze long enough to twist his balls into a ponytail. He throws a mock salute at you, toothy grin on full display. “Have fun!”

Now left alone (i.e. abandoned) by your friends, you tentatively turn to look at Jungkook. You swallow thickly, cheeks flamin’ hot. “So, by the way…. About that date?”

#btsghostiemarathon #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #high school!au #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #bts fanfic #GOD I WROTE THIS IN LIKE 1 HOUR IDK IF ANY OF IT MAKES CENTS GBYE TIME TO DIE AGAIN

280 notes · View notes

aka-a-shii · 3 years

Text

생일축하해 내 사랑 || A. Keiji

Akaashi x F!Reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: nsfw; 18+; unprotected sex; spicy 🌶 not proofread

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BELOVED AKAASHI KEIJI 💋 this is my first smut fic 😭olease bear with me ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

Akaashi’s eyes started to strain from being in front of his laptop for hours. cramming to finish reviewing the final panels for his upcoming deadline, he started to stretch his limbs when his eyes landed on the digital clock at his side. its almost 12AM. he decided to take a break for a few minutes to relish his body and mind. maybe another cup of coffee would suffice, he thought. he stood up from his swivel chair when his phone rang flashing your name on the screen, he can’t help but flash a smile and answered the phone.

“hello?”

“hiya Keiji! you’re still up! still not done with your final panels?”

he chuckled softly as your angelic voice rang to his ears. “just a little more, love. i’m taking a break now, just gonna grab one last cup of coffee. did you just got off from work?”

“yeah i just got home! also grabbed some dinner along the way.”

“good! so, how was your day today?” he padded his way to the kitchen to make his coffee as he listened to how you rambled about how your day went. you had been dating ever since second year of highschool and now engaged to this almost perfect former setter of Fukurodani. and even if you are miles apart due to you working in the other side of the world, the love is still there, you made it work still. indeed, you still miss each other and you long for each other’s presence and you never fail to make time for each other despite your schedules. oftentimes you would call each other or facetime each other, even when one of you ended up falling asleep during the call, most of the time, its you. but for Akaashi it doesn’t matter, he always love to see you sleep and the call would end with him saying good night and i love you to you while lowkey kissing his phone screen or laptop screen.

“hey. Keiji?”

“hmm?”

“i miss you.”

he could tell that you’re almost tearing up by how your voice was kinda shaky.

“i miss you too, love. few more months and we’ll see each other again, okay? just a little more.” he reassured you. he misses you as much as you did.

“b-but i wanna see you now.”

he lets out a chuckle. “would you like to go facetime then?”

“NO! i look hideous right now.” you excused earning a hearty laugh from your fiancé.

“you know that’s not true! you’re always beautiful in my eyes no matter what love.” he confessed

and as his coffee stopped brewing, the clock struck 12AM.

“Keiji?”

“yes?”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Akaashi cannot help but smile.

“thank you, love”

as much as he wanted to hear it personally, hearing your voice is enough for his heart to pace up. as much as he wanted to hug and kiss you right then and there, as much as he wanted you to be there with him on his birthday.

“i really wished i could be there with you today, Keiji.”

and even when you’re miles apart, Akaashi is sure that you are definitely pouting on the other side of the line.

“just a little more, love. are you sure you don’t wanna facetime now?” he asked.

“yep! i might miss you more if i do. oh! i need to go Keiji! i need to go shower, i smell icky!” you excused

“alright. i’m done brewing my coffee so i might go back to work anytime soon. take your time, love and get lots of rest.” he said as he walked back to his home office.

“okay~ i love you! happy birthday once again!”

“i love you too, y/n”

“bye-bye~”

“goodbye.” he replied before you hang up.

little did he know that he will be up for a surprise later that day.

—

Akaashi slowly walked towards his cubicle holding his approved manuscripts mentally noting to call you the moment he gets to sit on his swivel chair.

he tried to call you but its seems like he couldn’t reach your phone as of the moment. “maybe she’s busy” Akaashi thought.

he then decided to call you again later when he’s about to go home. but when he stepped out of the building hours later, his phone on his ears beeping for a voice message, he instantly became restless and immediately walked faster to the train station.

Akaashi had been dialing your number again and again but you’re out of coverage. he’s already getting worried because you didn’t even return his missed calls or texts. he definitely knows that you always do once you see a notification from him but this time he got nothing except for the repeating beep for voice message that keeps ringing into his ear.

when he arrived at his doorstep he didn’t waste a second to open the door, but what greeted him at the frontdoor made him tensed. a pair of familiar shoes were gently placed at the side. he immediately step out of his own and sprinted towards the hallways and upon nearing the kitchen he hears faint sizzling sounds, and there he saw you, in flesh, in front of the stove cooking something. and within a split second his body instantly moved faster than his brain and wrapped his arms around your waist

you flinched when you felt the familiar warmth of his chest on your back. Akaashi nuzzled his face onto the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent.

“you almost gave me a heart attack!” you said as you reached and ruffled his raven hair.

“that should be my line, you know?” Akaashi retorted as he lift your chin to the side and collided his lips with yours.

you missed this. the familiarity of his hold on you, the warmth of his lips, his scent, his everything and Akaashi feels the same.

“happy birthday, Keiji.” you whispered when he pulled away, Akaashi just smiled and crashed his lips on yours once again.

“i missed you, y/n..” another kiss. “...so much.” and another down to your neck.

you feel his kiss trailing down from your neck to your shoulder blade. “K-Keiji...”

he hummed, lips still lingering on your shoulder as he slid his free hand to hold the small of your back.

“i still need to cook for us, to celebrate your birthday.” you said as you swatted his hand away. but instead, Akaashi held you closer and wrapped his arms on your belly.

“i’d rather eat you tonight, love” he whispered into your ear slightly blowing air on it.

you feel shivers run down your spine on his gestures and flinched. “AKAASHI KEIJI! I ALMOST DROPPED THE PAN!” you shrieked earning a chuckle from your fiancé.

Akaashi then reached for the stove and shut it off. he turned you to face him then lifted your chin and kissed you again with fervor leaving you breathless as he pulled away. without missing a beat, he then hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his torso. “the food can wait, darling .” he said, then kissed you again as he carried you to your bedroom.

well, you already expected this, with so many months that you had been away with each other, who are you to deny Akaashi Keiji? your almost perfect boyfriend and soon-to-be husband.

as you reached the edge of the bed, he laid you down oh so gently then peeled his dress shirt off of him and tossed it on the floor. he hovered above you as he gazed all of you underneath him.

“i missed you so much, y/n” he captured your lips into a searing kiss.

“i missed you too, Keiji.” you replied as he pulled away.

his hand slowly inched closer to the hem of your sweatshirt. “may i?” his eyes locked onto yours expecting permission and you nodded in response.

Akaashi took your sweater off tossing it to the floor where his dress shirt landed earlier. he trailed kisses from your neck, to your collarbone, to the valley of your clothed mounds and stop when he reached your belly button and blew air on it. he was indeed teasing you, making you moan and feel shivers run down your spine. you can feel your core getting wetter by the second. you felt Akaashi’s hand ghost over the waistband of your jeans and slowly tugged it down your knees, the wet spot on your panties didn’t go unnoticed by his hungry eyes causing him to entirely remove your jeans off of you.

“you’re already so wet for me, love.” he hissed as he reached for the waistband of your underwear. he then slowly tugged it down until your core was so exposed for his prying eyes, he can feel his jeans tigthen, his manhood throbbing inside. his slender fingers sliding into your glistening folds, pushing one finger in and slowly adding another. he sets a pace not too slow or not too fast and the pleasure feels just right. his experienced fingers were working wonders deep within you, hitting every spot without miss. you feel Akaashi growing more and more impatient as his grunts and moans reveberates through your ear.

“fuck foreplay. i want you now.”

and in a swift motion he pulled his jeans down, his hard cock springs up to his abdomen. he leans in and kissed you hard once more as he slipped his hand on one of your breast and slowly sheathed himself into you. the stretch burned from the lack of prep but the feeling of him filling you up to the brim overcomes the sting you were feeling.

“K-Keiji...” you moaned, sending currents onto his half buried cock inside you.

Akaashi lets out a satisfying grunt the moment he bottoms out. “god why are you this tight? you make me feels so good, y/n” he comments as he pulled his cock out leaving you clenching on nothing just to slam it right back in a brutal force. Akaashi is gentle in general, but being away from you for so long made him go feral. his pace as well as his force was so far from being gentle and seeing the hunger and lust on his eyes was enough to make you go wetter once more. with every thrust of his hip onto yours, you can definitely tell he’s ready to give you his all.

the room was filled with mixed moans and grunts coming from the both of you. the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated through your ear. Akaashi stared down to where the both of you were connected and back to your face contorted with pleasure he was offering you and can’t help but smirk at the sight unfolding in front of his eyes.

“you looked so beautiful so fucked up like this, y/n” and he leans in for a kiss.

you felt the knot starting to coil on your abdomen and Akaashi sensed the you’re close when he felt your walls tightened around his cock. his other hand reached for your clit and started rubbing circles on it eliciting a high pitched moan from you.

“K-Keiji i-i’m cl-close” you said in between your pants.

“let go, love. cum for me” Akaashi whispered to your ear

a few more thrusts and you let the coil snap, making your pussy flutter around Akaashi’s cock. he fucked you through your high as he chases his own release. you wrapped your legs around his waist as to deepen his thrusts into you. you felt his pace go erratic and sloppier by the second and the next thing you felt was warmth spreading inside you as Akaashi filled you with his seeds to the brim while moaning your name over and over.

both of you breathless gasping for air as Akaashi tucked your hair behind your ear and pressed a kiss on your temple. “was i a bit too rough?” he cooed as he smiles at you.

you gently shook your head and leaned closer to kiss him. “nope.”

he chuckles as he slowly pulls out of you and gently laid beside you. he reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers together then kissed your knuckles. “so this is why you declined the idea of facetime-ing earlier?”

“yeap!” you giggled. “i was already at the airport when i called you. i just don’t want to spoil my surprise, you know?” and you kissed the tip of his nose.

“happy birthday, Keiji”

“thank you, love” he leaned in and captured your lips into a longing and passionatekiss.

“i love you.” he whispered into the kiss.

“i love you too, Keiji.”

you stayed cuddled with each other for a while until you heard Akaashi’s stomach growled and the both of you burst out of laughter.

“i think we should just order food, i’m too tired to cook for now.”

“i like that idea.” Akaashi stood up from the bed and lifted you up bridal style earning a gasp from you. “but let’s take a bath first.” he kissed you again. “together.”

and he carried you to the bathroom. a shower sex for the second isn’t a bad idea after all.

taglist: @lollypop-lam @shibayamasbae @keiyoomi @narashikari @lifeisnotdaijoubudeska @princessuchiha314 @kenmakozumeswifey @akasuns @mtsm

those who are in BOLD couldn’t be tagged

507 notes · View notes

raeandwhatnot · 3 years

Text

Crazy Baking- Charlie Gillespie Imagine

Summary: You bake a cake with Charlie and Owen, and it gets a little crazy in the kitchen.

Prompt: "How the hell did you get cake batter on the ceiling?!" "Your guess is as good as mine.”

Warnings: a few minor swear words. (Platonic!Owen)

Words: 1.7k

Requests: open (x) closed ()

A/N: I found the word prompt from @promptsforthestugglingauthor! Also, sorry this one is a little shorter than my other imagines. I’m in the midst of doing finals, but enjoy this cute imagine!

“Hey, babe? Can you get the flour and sugar out for me, please?” I ask Charlie while setting two medium sized bowls on the counter. Charlie, Owen, and I are baking a cake for Madison’s surprise birthday party tonight. Savannah is planning it all, and I have no idea why she had Charlie and Owen in charge of the cake because they are wild animals when they are together. Therefore, I offered to help because I want the cake to turn out good! Also, so that nothing catches on fire!

“Where is that again?” Charlie asks.

I turn my head to see where he was looking. He was just standing in the middle of the kitchen like a lost puppy. “It is in the pantry on the bottom shelf,” I point out. He nods his head and goes to the pantry.

As I was grabbing and plugging in the mixer, I hear the front door open. “Who’s ready to bake a cake!?” the sound of Owen’s voice comes from the living room. “Sorry I’m late, (Y/N)!”

“It’s okay, O. I was beginning to worry you were going to ditch us!” I joke.

“You know, it was really tempting, but I knew you would kill me if I didn’t come help,” Owen said as he set down his backpack on the couch before walking into the kitchen.

“Damn right she would have!” Charlie says, setting down the flower and sugar next to the mixing bowl.

“Alright!” I exclaim while clapping my hands. “Let’s get to baking! We can’t be late bringing in the cake for the party! I will mix the dry ingredients, Owen you will mix the wet ingredients, and Charlie you will put the two together. I will then pour it into the cake pan. Sound good?”

Charlie and Owen in sync solute and say, “Yes, ma’am!”

I chuckle at them being so alike. “Sweet! Let’s do this!” I say enthusiastically! I separated the wet and dry ingredients for Owen and I. “Oh, babe! Can you please preheat the oven to 350 for me, please?” I ask Charlie kindly.

“I sure can!” he says, skipping to the oven.

“Thank you!” I smile and start putting the dry ingredients together.

I suddenly feel big arms wrap around me from behind. “Of course, babe,” Charlie whispers in my ear and kisses my cheek. I blush at his actions. I hear Owen gag beside me as Charlie was being lovey dovey to me.

“Oh, shut up Owen!” I exclaim as I whisk the ingredients.

“Aw, does Owen need some love, too?” Charlie asks in a baby voice, unwrapping his arms around me to wrap his arms around Owen instead.

Owen immediately tries to get Charlie off of him as he is trying to mix his wet ingredients. “Ew, no! Get off of me!” Owen complains.

Charlie laughs as he attempts to hold on to Owen, but he fails as Owen pushed him away. “Fine then!” Charlie scoffs and fold his arms like a child. “I’ll go back to (Y/N). Don’t complain about not getting loves when you don’t want them!” I giggle at them being so dramatic. Charlie walks back to me, wraps his arms around my waist, and snuggles in my neck.

“You guys are ridiculous!” I say. “Are you done with your mixing?” I ask Owen.

“Almost!” Owen replies as he mixes more.

“Sweet,” I whisper. “I’m going to run to the restroom real quick. Once Owen is done mixing, Charlie you can put the dry and wet bowls into the bigger bowel. I’ll be right back. Please, don’t make a mess!” I instruct as I take off the apron that was around my torso.

“Okay, okay!” Charlie says, raising his hands in defense. I grab him by the shoulder and place a kiss on his cheek and walk to the bathroom

“She is quite demanding today,” I hear Owen whisper.

“When is she not?” Charlie whispers back.

I roll my eyes and shout, “I heard that!” I then hear them snicker at my response. I reach the bathroom that was attached to my bedroom and shut the door. I use this time to check my phone and look at my notifications. I saw that Savannah texted that we were going to set up her apartment for the party around 5:30. I looked at the time to see it was 3:00, so thank goodness we have time for the cake to cool down for a bit before we have to leave. Plus, I still have to get ready.

Suddenly, I could hear the boys laughing along with a couple of clanking noises. I can’t help but think they are messing around. I finish up in the bathroom, wash my hands, and walk back to the kitchen. As soon as I walk in, Charlie and Owen were wrestling on the couch in the living room. I notice there were a couple of spills around the large bowl that Charlie used to mix the dry and wet ingredients, and they also poured the batter into the cake pan for me. “Guys!” I shout to get their attention. They both instantly stop at my voice. “Why are you wrestling? You could have put the cake in the oven!”

Owen stands up first, “He started it!”

Charlie slaps Owen’s thigh, “I did not!”

“Yes, you did! You started to attack me when I said I was going to-“ Owen starts to say before Charlie hits him again.

“Dude!” Charlie says through his teeth as he stands up next to Owen.

I place my hands on my hips. “You were going to what?” I ask seriously.

“Nothing!” Owen squeaks and walks back into the kitchen. “Here, let me put the cake in the oven.” He opens the oven door, carefully puts in the cake in the oven, shuts the oven door, and turns on a timer for 35 minutes.

“Owen,” I say as I grab his arm to face me. “What did you guys do?” I ask sternly. Owen then just looks up. I hear Charlie let out a frustrated sigh. I look up as well to see cake batter on the ceiling. "How the hell did you get cake batter on the ceiling?!"

"Your guess is as good as mine,” Charlie sighs.

“Yeah, we were messing around, and next thing we know, there’s batter on the ceiling! I was about to tell you, but then Charlie over here didn’t want to tell you. One of us was going to just clean it up, so we were wrestling to see who would clean it up,” Owen explains.

“We’re sorry, (Y/N),” Charlie apologizes.

“Honestly, it’s okay,” I reassure. “I’m not upset at all! I thought you guys broke something. This is nothing!” Both Charlie and Owen let out a relieved sigh. I grab two rags from a drawer and hand it to the them. “But you guys are both cleaning it up.”

They both chuckle. “I got the ceiling,” Owen says, slapping the rag on Charlie’s shoulder. They wet their rags and soak it in dish soap to clean up their mess.

As they do so, I put away all the ingredients we used as well as put the measuring cups, tablespoons and teaspoons, bowls, and whisks into the sink. I turn towards the boys. Owen got a chair and was wiping the ceiling. Charlie had finished wiping the counters as he was drying them with a paper towel. “Thank you, guys. See how officiant that was without wrestling?” I smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” Owen sighs. “But wrestling is just so fun!”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that. The horseplay made a mess in the first place!” I say.

“Okay? You know wrestling is fun,” Charlie winks as he pinned me against the counter I was leaning on. I shake my head and playfully push his chest. Next thing I know, Charlie picks me up by the waist and throws me over his shoulder. I screeched as I was now upside down! He jogs over to the living room before he throws me on the couch. Through my protests to let me down, I could hear Charlies contagious laugh. He pins me down by straddling my hips and starts to tickle me. I try to kick Charlie off, but it was no use!

“Mercy! Mercy!” I scream through my giggles. “Th-this isn’t wr-wrestling! This i-is tor-rcher!” I could barely speak through my laughter.

Charlie finally stops tickling me before plopping his full body onto mine, his face nuzzling into my neck. “I’m sorry for making a mess in your kitchen. I know you’re stressed about making the cake and wanting the party to be nice,” he whispers.

I move my head to give Charlie a kiss at the top of his head, “It’s okay, babe.”

Suddenly, I feel even more pressure on my body as Owen jumps on top of Charlie. Charlie and I let out a groan because of Owen’s weight.

“Owen! Get your fat ass off of me!” Charlie exclaims right into my ear.

“You’re not the one being squished! I’m under here, too!” I say.

“But you guys are comfy!” Owen whines.

“OWEN!” Charlie and I shout at the same time.

I could physically hear the sound of Owen rolling his eyes. “You guys are no fun,” Owen huffs before getting off of Charlie who then got off of me. I let out a deep breath as I could now breathe properly. Charlie holds out his hand to help me stand up. As I stood up, Charlie pulls me close to him to give me a sweet kiss. I hum in the kiss before I pull away.

“I’m going to let you guys hang out, so I can get ready for the party,” I announce.

“Sounds good, babe,” Charlie smiles. I give him a kiss on the cheek. When I pulled away from Charlie’s grip to walk to my bedroom, he smacks my butt. This causes me to squeal a little bit as I was not expecting him to do that in front of Owen. I could feel my cheeks get warm and I walked faster to my bedroom. Charlie giggled at my reaction. I could hear Owen making a comment at how gross we were.

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie x y/n #jatp #owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner imagine

189 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

VALERIE - Part IX. (Harry Styles)

yall are gonna hate me for this but it needed to be done IM SORRY! also, i can’t believe valerie is ending this week, just one more part to go! can’twait to read your reactions and thoughts on this part, even though i know yall gonna be upset lmao

word count: 5.6k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Some days it truly feels like the universe has plotted against you to make every possible thing go wrong. As if it wants to see just how much you can take before breaking, experiment how long it can dance on your nerves before you end up one of those crazy people who shout at random strangers on the bus for no actual reason.

Starting the day you overslept awfully leaving you only ten minutes before you had to leave. In your hurry you ended up putting on socks that do not match and you were forced to buy a sandwich on your way as breakfast, but you promised you wouldn’t buy packed sandwiches for a reason, this one tasted like it’s been sitting on the shelf for weeks. Maybe it really has been.

You made it to work successfully, but then you realized that you’ve left your notebook at home, the one that had quite a lot of important information you need for your work, so you spent your first hour at work emailing different people for things you should now, explaining that you just left your notebook at home. Some didn’t really give a fuck and just answered you normally, but others didn’t shy away from commenting that you should be more responsible and careful.

This alone gave just the perfect foundation for the day. It was all downhill from then. Your boss loaded twice as much work on you than usually, everything with close deadlines, throwing even more anxiety into the mix as if you didn’t have enough already.

You met up with Marcus at lunch, but that didn’t go as planned either. It’s been getting more and more frustrating with him, the two of you have already had at least five fights this week and it’s only wednesday. It seems like even the smallest things push you over the edge these days and you easily pick a fight over anything. It didn’t happen differently this time either and by the time you got back to the office you were fuming. Worst part is that you always have a hard time ending a fight and tend to continue it through texts, the same thing happened today as well.

Now it’s a few minutes past five and you’re getting ready to go home, get changed and head to family dinner since today is Valerie’s first birthday, but even on the bus you’re still furiously typing away on your phone, sending a reply to Marcus, wanting nothing more than to throw the device right ot the window.

At one point you decide you’ve had enough. Turning your phone off you sink it into the depth of your bag and just try to focus on breathing, because even the smallest things seem to be hard tasks in such an upsetting state of mind.

These past few weeks things have taken an absurdly wrong turn between you and Marcus and you don’t know what to do about the whole situation. Every night you go to bed thinking that you should just let go of him, would do a favor for the both of you, but then that stupid little voice in the back of your mind tells you that if you break up with Marcus it’s game over for you, you’ll spend the rest of your life alone. It all ends up with you violently holding onto the pieces of what’s left from your relationship and you’ve been trying to figure out where it went wrong, but you have absolutely no idea.

After you changed into a pair of light washed jeans, a bright orange sweater and your black leather jacket it’s time for you to leave, though you already know you’ll be late. With a sigh deep you decided to turn your phone back on when you were sitting in the Uber, immediately deleting the notifications about the messages Marcus left you and going straight for the few ones from Rosa, your mom and Harry. They all arrived not too long ago asking when you’d be arriving, so you quickly typed your sorry and told them you’re on your way, you just got caught up at work. For Harry, you add something else too:

“Save me a seat and order me a tequila.”

His response came quickly.

“Done. Both.”

You let out a chuckle seeing his message. He knows you too well.

Walking into the small restaurant you don’t have a hard time spotting your family, three tables have been pushed together to make enough room in the back, taking up the small, kind of separated area of the place. Rosa smiles widely when she spots you, Valerie standing on her thighs, hands on the table as she is trying to snatch one of the glasses away, but her dad is pushing it further from her grasp.

“Sorry for being late,” you huff out and take the seat right next to Harry who watches you with a smile. “Well hello there, birthday girl! You’re so big now!” you babble at Valerie who giggles at you before her attention is averted once again.

You feel Harry’s elbow poking your side and turning to him you see him nod at the two shots on the table.

“Oh, fantastic. You’re drinking too?”

“No, I’m driving. Both for you.”

“If I didn’t have such a shitty day I would question what kind of alcoholic you think I am, but I kinda need both,” you sigh, taking the first one and downing it faster than ever. From the corner of your eyes you see your mother’s disapproving look, but you decide to ignore it for now.

“Wanna talk about it?” Harry asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry, but you shake your head, the alcohol still burning your throat.

“Not now. Can you give me a lift home tho?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning back to the conversation at the table.

You somehow succeed in putting everything that happened today behind and just focus on the time spent with your family. It helps that seemingly Harry works hard all evening to tell you about random things, just occupying your thoughts as much as he can. It’s nice to relax a little and forget everything that’s been weighing down on your shoulders recently.

“It’s so crazy she is one already,” you sigh when you and Harry are walking to his car.

“Right? It makes me feel incredibly old,” Harry huffs as he fishes his car keys out of his pocket.

“How old are you even?” you ask laughing, realizing you don’t even know how old he exactly is. There are quite a few things, small details you’ve just never gotten around to find out about Harry.

“I’m turning 27 in February. Wild, isn’t it?” he chuckles.

“Yeah, you’re basically a grandpa,” you tease him and he narrows his eyes at you, but you can’t miss the little smile hiding in the corners of his mouth.

“That makes you a grandma, because you’re turning 25 in April, don’t you?”

“You know when my birthday is?” It takes you by surprise, you don’t remember ever telling him when your birthday is.

The two of you reach his car and he clears his throat unlocking it. Seems like he doesn’t really want to answer, but your burning gaze on him kind of forces him into it.

“Uh, I do. I wanted to meet up with Steven last year the day you had your birthday party, but he said he had plans already. Tried to lure him into cancelling, but he didn’t even want to share where he was going. Then he admitted that it was your birthday party, but you told him and Rosa not to even mention it to me so I don’t show up.”

Your stomach drops hearing his version of a story you’ve only known from your own point of view. You remember that you indeed told them not to tell Harry about it, but now it seems like such a hate crime, when in real life, it was still when the two of you hated each other with passion.

“I’m… Harry I’m sorry. That was--”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles at you, starting the car. “We left it all behind, didn’t we?”

His smile seems genuine, but you still feel guilty for being such a bitch. It reminded you how much time and energy the two of you wasted for years hating each other when you could have been just like you are now. If only things happened in a different way…

Arriving at your building Harry parks the car and stops it. As the engine stops, the silence that’s been thickening the air just becomes even more obvious. He is waiting for you to say something about what’s gotten you so upset today, you know that, but you don’t feel like sitting around in his car.

“Want to come up for a little bit?” you ask and it’s a hidden message that you want to talk in the comfort of your own home. Luckily, Harry understands it right away and nodding he tells you to lead the way.

You make some tea and the two of you sit on your couch, Harry is sitting sideways so he can see you while you bring your knees up to your chest, staring down at the mug in your hands.

“I had a fight with Marcus,” you quietly start.

“Oh.”

“And… it wasn’t the first time. We’ve been constantly fighting lately and I’m just… so tired of it.”

Saying it out loud for the first time, having someone listen to you brings you an odd sense of relief, and it doesn’t feel weird that you’re talking to Harry about all of it. He has proven himself to be a great listener.

“We’ve been fighting constantly, over the smallest things and my… my patience is running short, at this point.”

You’re talking slowly, carefully putting your thoughts into words, trying your best to interpret them for Harry after boiling them only in your own head for so long.

“I just… I have no idea what I should do.”

“It seems like the relationship is not making you happy anymore,” Harry softly speaks up and you have nothing to bring up against what he just said. “So why are you trying to continue it?”

You were expecting the question, you just knew he would ask it, but it still brings a painful, stinging sensation into your chest as you try to find the words to answer him.

“Because…” you breath out and slowly turning your head, your eyes meet his gaze. “If I can’t make it work with him… then… who is it gonna be? There’s this voice in my head that keeps telling me, that he is literally my last choice, that if I mess this up it’s gonna be over for me.”

“Y/N, you know that’s not true,” Harry tells you tilting his head.

“Do I?” you chuckle bitterly, turning your gaze to the ceiling before you look back at him. “Because I don’t think I do. I’ve been literally feeling so miserable for weeks, yet I still can’t get me to move on, because I think I’m gonna die alone.”

“That’s not gonna happen, don’t say that. You’ll find the right person for you, you just… have to be patient.”

“But that’s the thing. I have lost my patience. I’m done, over it.” The tears form in your eyes in just a few seconds and the next thing you know is that you’re crying. “I’ve been trying so hard in my whole life, but somehow I always ended up… not being enough, or thrown away, stepped over, left behind. No matter what I did, I always ended up alone and I can’t help but notice a pattern in it. It has to be me, what else?”

“It’s not you, okay? You just had a few bad experiences.”

“Not a few,” you huff closing your eyes. “All of them are bad. I was… I was never enough for anyone and now that I found a guy that seemed to be just perfect… I’m ruining it.”

“I don’t think you’re ruining anything.”

“Then explain to me what’s happening, Harry!” you snap in despair and Harry stares back at you at a loss of words at first.

“Do you have feelings for him?” he then asks. You can’t answer right away and it tells him a lot.

“I… I’m not sure.”

“That sounded more like a no.”

“Okay, alright. No, I don’t. But… I could develop feelings eventually, couldn’t I?”

“That’s not how it works, Y/N. You can’t just torture yourself hoping that one day you wake up and you’ll be in love with him. It’s not gonna happen and you’re just wasting your time.”

“How do you know it’s not gonna happen? What makes you so sure of that I will not end up alone?”

Harry stays quiet, her green eyes are staring right into your soul and for a moment you forget about your misery. This man alone holds such a power over you, it’s starting to scare you.

“I know it, because… I know you. And I see you. You’re literally the funniest girl I know, so easy to talk with, you always know when to crack a joke and when you have to be serious. You have so much love for others, you care about your loved ones and you’re always there for your friends and family. You make it so easy for others to get comfortable around you and you make everyone feel safe around you.”

You listen to him intently, drinking up every word that leaves his lips. Harry looks down at his hands as he continues.

“And you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful, it always baffles me when I see you.”

“What?” you breathe out.

“It’s the truth,” Harry chuckles lightly, he brushes his knuckles together nervously. “Every time you walk in, you just… make everyone turn their head at you, and I always wonder if you even notice that. The way you walk, your smile, your laugh, Y/N, you make every man go crazy about you.”

“You’re just saying that because you are trying to cheer me up,” you sniff, wiping a few more tears away from your eyes.

“I’m definitely not,” he chuckles and his eyes finally find yours. “I remember when we first met.”

“When you walked in on me changing,” you sigh, the memories living vividly in your mind.

“Yeah. I remember how… breathless I felt when I saw you standing there, your dress handing a little on your frame because of the zipper. I forgot my name for a moment. I offered to help with the zipper because I just… wanted to touch you in any kind of way. So I knew that you were real.”

“Harry…”

“I know this sounds made up, but I’m telling you, this is the truth. And I know I didn’t act like that for a long time, but I always thought that you were an amazing person and I know that any guy would be so lucky and incredibly happy to be with you. I hate the thought of you thinking otherwise of yourself, when you are literally such a delight and… just a gift to all of us. I don’t know what’s really been going on between you and Marcus, but if he can’t see your worth and can’t make you feel like you deserve… he is not worthy of your time.”

You feel your throat closing up, but you’re not sure Harry knows the reason behind it when the tears start rolling down your cheeks again.

Because it might look like his words touched you and made you tear up, but in reality, a bittersweet feeling has taken completely over you. If this is how he thinks about you, why did he act like that when he had the chance to be with you? Why didn’t he want you to stay? What did you do that made him want to throw you out?

It’s a spiral straight down and you can’t stop yourself from falling. Harry has always been the biggest mystery of your life, and now you’re just even more sure it was something you did or said that made him want to run.

He reaches out and easily scoops you into his arms and you let him hold you tight, face buried into his chest. You hold onto his shirt as the silent cries escape your lips. You want him to want you. You want him to mean all those things he just told you, but you just can’t seem to move on from the past even though you’ve agreed to forget about it. It keeps bugging you in the back of your mind that no matter what he says, you weren’t good enough to make him want to stay with you when he had the chance.

***

It doesn’t get better after that night. Harry stayed until after midnight, made sure you got into bed and told you he’ll check in on you the next day. And so he did.

You felt guilty for loading all of it on Harry, so you decided it was the last time you ever talked about Marcus or your love life in general with him. You easily made yourself believe that he didn’t really care about it and he just listened to you because he was trying to be nice. It seemed the best to just try and forget about it all.

For a while you were contemplating breaking up with Marcus, but you didn’t have the strength to do it, telling yourself you have to give it another chance and some more patience. However it’s ending up to be quite draining, you gotta admit, but you are starting to get used to feeling numb every day.

Rosa invites you over, because she went through her closet and found some stuff she thought you’d like, so you head over not long after you get home from work. She mentioned that Harry would be over watching some kind of football game with Steven, so you are not surprised to see his car parking on their driveway.

“Hi guys!” you greet them when Rosa lets you in, the game is already on so they just wave in your way, intently watching the TV.

“Come on, I have everything in the bedroom,” Rosa nods in your way and you follow her upstairs. Valerie greets you with a loud shriek as you walk in, she is sitting in her crib, surrounded with a bunch of toys, seemingly having a great time.

“Hi there, Princess!” you coo at her, caressing her cheek before you sit on the edge of the bed that’s filled with piles of clothes. “What’s the big sorting?” you ask, grabbing a cardigan and taking a look at it.

“I just have way too much stuff, can’t fit new stuff into my wardrobe, so I needed to sort it all out.”

The two of you go through everything and just catch up while you try on what you like. At the end, you are just sitting on the bed playing with Valerie. You can tell there’s something Rosa wants to share, but she seems reserved about saying it out loud.

“So, the other day we were talking with Steven about how crazy it is that Val is over one year old,” she starts, eyes glued to the little girl, handing her another building block as Valerie works on… whatever it’s going to be when it's finished.

“Yeah, that’s what we talked about with Harry after her birthday dinner. Makes us feel old,” you chuckle.

“Exactly,” she sighs chuckling. “So then we talked about, maybe… having another kid sometime soon.”

You perk up and looking at Rosa you see the shy smile on her lips and you gasp, but she shakes her head.

“I’m not pregnant,” she assures you, but then adds: “Not yet.”

“Oh my God, so you’re trying for another baby?” you whisper, even though there’s no chance of the guys hearing the two of you. You can hear the sound of the TV up here, they have no clue what you’re talking about.

“I mean, it can take some time, so we thought we could… start now.”

“That’s fantastic!” you breathe out, truly happy for your sister. You just know Valerie will be such a good big sister. “Val, you want a baby sister or baby brother?” you ask her and she looks at you with a serious expression, holding out one of the blocks.

“Baba!” she exclaims.

“Yes, baba!” you chuckle. She’s been learning kind of real words lately and it won’t take too long before she’ll be bossing around everyone in the house.

When it’s getting late you pack the clothes you choose and head down to leave. The guys are still on the couch, but Harry’s head perks up when he hears your footsteps.

“You want me to give you a ride?”

“Um, I’m fine, don’t want to bother you while the game is on.”

“It’s ending in five. If you can wait a little it’s alright.”

“Okay,” you nod smiling so instead of going to the front door you stop in the kitchen to wait for Harry.

Rosa puts Valerie into her high chair and gets a banana for her while you check your phone just when Marcus calls you. Hesitantly, but you answer it.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi, just wanted to check in if the weekend is still on.”

“Uh, sure. It is.”

“Great. I’ll have to check again with my boss, but I think I’ll be able to pick you up.”

“Great. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, babe.”

The call ends and you find yourself facing a curious looking Rosa on the other side of the kitchen island.

“Marcus?” she asks and you nod. “How are things going?” You’ve only mentioned it to her that it’s been hard between the two of you, but you definitely didn’t go into details. Harry was the first and last person to hear the whole story.

“Um… neutral, I guess?”

“That doesn’t sound promising.”

“I know, but I’m just trying to figure it out. We are spending the weekend together, I hope it’ll help us to get a little more… settled? I guess, I don’t know,” you stammer, nervously fidgeting with your phone in your hands.

“That’s nice, was it his idea?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s good to know that Marcus is making the right attempts to smooth things out.”

“Attempts?” Harry’s voice makes both of you look in his way as he stands at the door, seemingly confused about what he just heard. “You’re still with Marcus?”

“Harry, I…”

“No, don’t try to explain it. I thought I talked sense into you last time.” He is clearly pissed, not holding back how upset he is to get the news that you are still dating Marcus. But on the other hand you can also feel yourself getting angry how he tries to control your life.

“You did, but I never said I’ll break things off with him.”

“Well, it surely sounded like you made up your mind,” he huffs.

“Well, I didn’t,” you scoff, crossing your arms on your chest.

“What the fuck, Y/N! You can’t keep doing this to yourself!” he snaps gesturing in your way. “I thought we were over this!”

“We? What do you mean we?” you grimace and now you are raising your voice as well. “Harry, there’s no we! This is my relationship and it’s nice that you care, but you can’t tell me what to do!”

Harry is vivid. He needs everything in him not to burst right then and there and for a moment you think he’s gonna just explode. But when he speaks up again his voice is quiet, however you can feel all the anger and frustration behind it.

“Get in the car, we’re leaving.”

“What?”

“Get in the fucking car, Y/N!” he barks making you jump. Rosa and Steven, who arrived to the kitchen in the middle of this madness, are just watching the scene unfold, completely unable to even say a word.

Slowly, you slide off the stool and grabbing the bag filled with clothes you turn to Rosa.

“Thanks for… these,” you mumble before walking out, Harry following you right behind.

Nothing is said as the two of you get into the car, Harry is clearly on the verge of anger outburst, but you’re pretty upset yourself. The drive back to your place is painfully quiet, but you can’t stop staring at his hands gripping the wheel. HIs fingers and knuckles are turning white from the way he is basically crushing the wheel in his hold. You wouldn’t be surprised if it had his grip’s imprint on it by the time you arrive to your building.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he snaps once the car is parked.

“Would you stop pretending like you have a saying in what I do?”

“I do have a saying in it! Because when you break again I’ll be the one picking you up from the ground!”

“Well, sorry it’s such an inconvenience to be my friend. But don’t worry, I won’t come to you again,” you snap back with a grimace and try to open the door, but it’s locked. “Let me out, Harry!”

“Fuck no, not until we talk about this,” he scoffs and it’s the last straw for you.

“There’s nothing to talk about! It’s none of your business, Harry! Stop pretending like you care!”

“I do care!” he shouts back so forcefully you are taken aback, sinking into your seat. “Of course I fucking care! How would I not?! I care about you so fucking much, how do you not see it?!”

At this point, you’re certain Harry has lost all self control and he is about to load he has been holding back out on you, while you’re just sitting there, staring at him completely speechless over how his whole being is filled with anger and fury.

“Stop fucking telling me that I don’t care when all I think about is you! Every damn day! I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, because every time my mind snaps right back to you when I’m trying to think about something else! Do you know how fucking painful it is?! See you fucking waste your time with that dickhead when I want to be with you?!”

Eyes widened you forget to even breathe as the words leave his lips and soon enough realization hits him hard about what he just said. His chest is violently waving, eyes staring straight ahead. Next time he speaks up the shouting is over, he is clearly shocked at his own behavior.

“Y/N, I-- what you told me last time, about ending up alone, that wasn’t the first time you told me all of that.”

“What?” you gasp.

“You broke down the same way at the wedding. Told me all about how you think you are just simply unlovable and will probably die alone.” His eyes snap down at his hands on his lap as he continues. “I was shocked how you’d ever think that way about yourself, because I was… I was already falling in love with you and I barely just met you that night. I couldn’t imagine what happened to you that made you believe that nonsense. I never felt like that with anyone else before and it was so fucking scary. Every time you looked at me or touched me, I could feel… the sparks. The fucking sparks, Y/N,” he lets out a bitter chuckle. “I never believed in that, but you made me feel that way. Then… one thing happened after the other and we were up in my room. I saw the way you looked at me, like I was your fucking everything and I have never experienced that. You fell asleep in my arms and I told myself that this is exactly how I want to spend the rest of my life.”

Tears roll down your cheeks as you listen in complete shock as Harry is still avoiding to look at you.

“I wanted to be the person who shows you how lovable and amazing you are, how worthy you are to be loved. Like I found my mission all of a sudden.”

“Then what the fuck happened in the morning?” you ask choking out the words. Harry finally turns to face you and you see his watery eyes. He was crying.

“You fell asleep and I was just watching you… and I realized that… sooner or later I would do something to hurt you. Because that’s what I always do and I didn’t want that. You didn’t deserve that, but I just knew I won’t be able to give you what you wanted and needed. And you told me all about how you just want to be loved and… I didn’t want to disappoint you in any way.”

He rubs his eyes turning back to look straight ahead and you see his lips tremble before he speaks up again.

“I said all those stuff so you’d have a reason to hate me and you wouldn’t try to stay with me.”

“This is literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you chuckle bitterly as the tears keep rolling down your cheeks. “Do you have any idea how fucking horrible I felt after that? I felt so ashamed for fucking weeks, Harry!”

“I-I know. I mean, I figured.”

“You made me feel unwanted and dirty, it took me so long to build my confidence back and be able to think of myself as more than just some used rug that was thrown out!”

Harry sits there in complete silence and just lets you load everything out on him, because he knows that’s what he deserves. He has tried to punish himself in so many different ways for what he did to you, but he knew he had to face you someday. Now the time has come and he is done trying to run away from the consequences of his actions in the past.

“I was blaming myself all this time, thinking that I must have done something wrong, when in reality it was you! It was fucking you!”

“I know, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean it to end like this.”

“You didn’t mean it to end like this?” you snap. “You literally continued to treat me like shit for years! If it wasn’t for Valerie, you’d still be a complete dick to me! And what was your intention with this now, huh? Why did you tell me all of this now?!”

“Because I couldn’t stop… seeing you be so unhappy with someone who clearly doesn’t deserve you in any way. I’m selfish and I realized that I made a mistake, but I now know what I should have done, because…” He finally turns to face you again, you see a tear roll down his cheek as he takes a deep breath before continuing. “I love you. I love you, Y/N, and I’m fucking done pretending like I don’t.”

You stare back at him, breath caught in your throat and it’s the breaking point. You reach over to his side and unlock the doors so you can open yours and you jump out of the car wanting to get as far away from him as possible. He can’t just throw all of this on you after everything the two of you went through, that’s not how it works. Does he even mean it? How are you supposed to believe him after years of hatred?

You try to get inside the building, but he is quick to catch up with you, he grabs your upper arm and pulls back, but you yank his hold away.

“Where are you going?!” he snaps towering above you.

“Home. And don’t fucking touch me!”

“But I literally just told you I love you, you’re not gonna say anything about that?”

At first you plan on not even answering, you make your way towards the door, but then you change your mind. Turning around you unload on him once again.

“You don’t have the right to tell me you love me! Not after all the shit I took from you! How am I supposed to believe it when you literally made me feel like shit for all these years, saying the meanest stuff to me every damn time we met! I was avoiding you like the plague because I can’t even count how many times you made me cry calling me names and treating me so fucking horrible! No, you are not just gonna waltz in here, tell me that I have to break up with my boyfriend because you’ve been in love with me all along. I don’t fucking believe you, Harry. So stay the fuck away from me,” you tell him and push your way inside. This time he doesn’t follow.

By the time you reach your front you’re sobbing, barely seeing from your own tears. With shaking hands you unlock the door and get inside shutting the door behind you before you collapse on the floor.

Harry lives in delusion if he thinks he can just unload all of this on you and make everything right magically. Not after more than three years of the shit you took from him. How are you supposed to believe that he is telling the truth? If he loved you all along, how could he treat you like that? That’s not what love should feel like. All those countless times when you came home after seeing him and you couldn’t help but cry after some of his meanest comments… and now he is trying to make you believe he did it all to protect you from him? Bullshit.

It doesn’t work like that and now he is gonna have to face the consequences of his actions.

PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@f-vasquezp @perspnhel @http-cherries @h-arrystyles @just-damn-bored @millennial-teenybopper @sarcasticallywitty15 @gwenlovesharrystyles @perfectywrong @do-youseeme @burberryharold @irwindoll @stylesfics-xx @sltwins @mellamolayla @funeral-7 @yourkidsfavbabysitter @nesiamenick @sunflower6why @rainbowbutterflyboy

#harry styles #harry #styles #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles valerie #harry styles valerie series #valeries series

487 notes · View notes

tpwkjerii · 3 years

Text

birthday cake

after a long day of practice, hyunjin simply can’t wait to spend time with you. unfortunately this comes at the cost of ruining a well-planned birthday surprise. but in true hyunjin fashion, he knew exactly how to make it all better.

pairing: idol!hyunjin x reader

warnings: so much fluff, kissing n hugs, slight suggestive themes (but no smut)

genre: established relationship au

word count: 1.1k+

a/n: late night post in celebration of hyunjin’s bday (yes two posts for him bc i luv him)! also stream little star :D

Hyunjin sighed as he pushed open the door to your shared apartment. With his duffle bag slung over one arm and phone in one hand, he used his other hand to take off the headband he slipped on during practice.

Despite this practice being more fun than others since the members all prepared various items and snacks to celebrate his birthday, it was still practice — exhausting and demanding. Once the clock hit 6 PM, he practically ran out of the practice room to rush to your apartment. Sure, he was supposed to show up at 8 PM after celebrating in the dorm with the other members, but he figured they could wait a little longer (it was his birthday, after all).

As he slipped off his coat and shoes, he heard the clutter of pots and soft music, which he recognized was your favorite playlist to listen to while cooking, coming from the kitchen. A smile fell on his lips as he approached the kitchen, ready to greet you after a long day.

“Hey __ - ”

He didn’t even get to finish saying your name before you shrieked loudly, dropping the (thankfully) empty baking tin and whipping around to face him. A hand clutching your heart, you caught your breath as you realized it was only Hyunjin.

“You scared me!” you said, walking up to wrap him in a tight hug.

He hugged you back with a small laugh. “Sorry,” he apologized softly, his head craned down so he could speak right above your ear. “Please don’t scold me? It’s my birthday.”

You sighed, unable to resist his soft words and too absorbed in your shared embrace. “At least knock next time,” you told him with a soft laugh.

Hyunjin only nodded and continued to hold you as he asked, “What were you making?”

You groaned and pulled yourself off from him, which caused him to pout in defiance. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” you whined, bending down to pick up the dropped bowl.

“Well, now it doesn’t have to be,” Hyunjin replied, a grin on his face as he helped you grab another bowl on the top shelf.

You sighed again, figuring that he was going to find out if he planned on staying, which it seemed like he was. “I was supposed to bake you a cake and drop it off at the dorms since Felix didn't have enough time today,” you admitted, looking down at your hands bashfully. As much as you loved having Hyunjin here, you wished you were still able to surprise him and see the happy shock on his face when you arrived at the dorms.

Hyunjin cooed and brought you into another tight hug. He lowered his voice and said, “Sorry, I was just so tired and I really wanted to see you.”

Your heart warmed at his words and the sadness you felt from the ruined surprise slowly melted away. All you wanted for Hyunjin was for him to be happy, and it seemed like he didn’t need the surprise to be content today.

“It’s ok,” you reassured him with a smile, your hands gently rubbing circles on his back. “I love you,” you whispered after, the softness and vulnerability behind your words further attacking Hyunjin’s heart.

His chest was warm with love and affection, and he paid no mind to his aching legs when he lifted you up from the ground and spun you around. You squealed and softly hit his arm in protest.

“Hyunjin, let me down!” you exclaimed with a laugh.

“Never!” he started, pausing briefly to catch his breath. “That would ruin my plan to make you dizzy and convince you to stay on the couch for the rest of the day!”

Both of you broke into loud laughter and Hyunjin eventually set you down, but not without first claiming that he could’ve spun you longer if he didn’t have practice before. You only laughed and shook your head in response before resuming your attention back to the cake.

The vanilla batter was still in the large mixing bowl right next to your phone, which you noticed was lighting up with notifications. You rushed to your phone and read through the notifications — most of which were from Felix.

6:02 PM

lixie

hyunjin escaped!!

we don’t know where he went!! emergency!!

6:06 PM

lixie

jisung thinks he probably went to your place

hyunjin isn’t picking up his phone :(

is the cake almost ready?

6:10 PM

chris bang lol

hey y/n i hope felix’s texts aren’t stressing you out! he’s just worried..

please take your time with the cake!

just a heads up that hyunjin is probably headed to your place, he’s not at the dorms or practice rooms

6:18 PM

twice stans (lixie, y/n, quokka)

lixie

y/n isn’t responding to me so i’ve resorted to the group chat

i hope the surprise won’t be ruined :(

quokka

lix it’s ok

hyunjin is probably at y/n’s and they’re probably hugging,, ;)

You rolled your eyes at the last message and quickly opened the chat to type a response.

6:27 PM

twice stans (lixie, y/n, quokka)

y/n

you’re exactly right, jisung. we were hugging (h u g g i n g).

don’t worry, lixie! hyunjin’s fine :)

we’ll be over by 7 <3

You felt two strong arms wrap around your waist and you turned to see Hyunjin’s face. He was peering down at your screen with a grin.

“Ah, I turned my phone off since the battery was low,” he admitted sheepishly as he saw Felix’s texts. You only scoffed, but you didn’t get the chance to reply before he continued, “7? You sure we don’t wanna take our time and do something else?”

“Like what?” you retorted, turning your phone screen off and placing it back down on the counter.

“Something a little more than hugging, perhaps?” he suggested, a smirk on his face.

You gasped and gently pushed him away. “Hyunjin!” you choked out, whipping around to face the counter so he didn’t see the blush quickly spreading across your face and neck.

He laughed and grabbed your hands from behind you. “Just joking… unless?”

You shook your head, your face still very red from embarrassment. You tried your best to clear your head from the inappropriate thoughts and focused on pouring the cake batter into the tin. Hyunjin remained behind you, his arms still around your middle and his head now resting on your shoulder as he observed you.

“Thank you again,” he said, to which you hummed. “I love you,” he said after a few moments of silence with only the soft music playing in the background. “You’re the best gift I could ever ask for,” he told you earnestly, gently tilting your head towards his and leaning in to kiss you.

There, with Hyunjin’s soft lips against yours, you swore there could be nothing better in life.

(You two ended up being there later than 7).

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #happy birthday hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin x y/n #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz fanfic #hyunjin fluff #lee felix #bang chan

238 notes · View notes

mysmegrace · 3 years

Note

Hii! Could I request “why is it so hard for you to believe me?” “I love you” prompts with Jumin, Zen and Saeran? Thank you!

hello~ omg anon you are giving me too much fun with these prompts lmao. i’ve decided to split them up in a fanfic style. i’ll post jumin’s here, then later zen’s and saeran’s. i’ll leave the links to them here once they become released but i’ll also have the links in my masterlist. have a great day!

summary: jumin comes across a text notification that flashes on mc’s phone. being curious, he reads it. things don’t add up to him and he accuses mc of cheating. mc is heartbroken, as the text was nothing more than a friendly conversation between cousins. it’s only until later does jumin realize his mistake.

topics / tw: cheating, angst, pregnancy, death, wrongfully accused individuals, car accidents, drunk driving, definitely not spoiler free.

words: 5.3k

*reminder: you can check out my masterlist to see which requests i am currently working on!*

just wanna put out there that the title is a lyric from shin yong woo’s (jumin’s VA) song. i plan to title saeran’s fic and zen’s fic the same way, just with different songs. here’s a link to the song if you’re interested.

Sad Endings Stay Sad

---

october 5th marked the birth of one of south koreas brilliant billionaires. and of course, there were ups and downs to that kind of life. living the rich lifestyle while working your life away for your young years. however, birthdays were supposed to be exemptions for the hectic ways of that life for just a day.

jumins birthdays consisted of four main concepts. birthday presents from people he’s only spoken to once, being met with “happy birthdays” whenever you turned the corner, parties being held in his honor (four-to be exact), and his favourite part, time spent with you and elizabeth the third.

he could endure the day as long as you were at home, safe and secure, waiting patiently for his return. knowing that made his struggles a little more bearable. he had all he could’ve asked for in his possession, things money can’t buy.

hence why he always asked you to refrain from giving him birthday gifts. he already had everything he needed, he could buy anything should he desire it, they took up unnecessary space, and they were pointless to him.

so when he arrived home that night to pick you up alongside driver kim in order to attend the han family birthday dinner, the look of confusion on his face once he laid his eyes upon the birthday gift left for him on the kitchen table was understandable.

had you forgotten his wishes, or were you simply teasing him? he knew his wife liked to play around from time to time. perhaps this was just another one of your silly “i love you” gifts. he decided to give you the pleasure of watching him open your gift, seeing your face light up playfully as he received a small plushie or tiny confetti canon.

little to his knowledge, you had planned something different to gift him. something incredibly more significant that you both were expecting to happen in the near future. after five years of marriage, you were excited to be sharing this news with him.

facing the mirror, you had heard the door open and close, signaling his arrival. meanwhile you were still getting ready for the dinner. so you allowed him a couple minutes to himself, taking in the foreign object greeting him.

with the last flick of mascara, you reached for the door handle, preparing how to answer the questions he was bound to ask. walking out to greet your husband as you weakly closed the door behind you, he turned his head to the sound of your heels meeting with the floor.

giving you his typical smile, the one that made you want to melt into the expensive floor tiles, he walked to greet you as you made your entrance in the living room. his beautiful wife was always a wonderful sight to see at home.

regardless, he knew you both had a place to be and he needed to hurry the conversation up. the last thing he wanted to be was late. so he questions,

“love, i thought i told you not to gift me anything this year. having you with me is more than enough.”

a modest giggle left your lips, those beautiful lips he would kiss every morning before work. you made a small gesture to the present, telling him to open it. yet as he picked the gift up, you noticed you didn’t have the birthday card on you. you couldn’t have a birthday gift without a birthday card. everything had to be perfect.

after all, it wasn’t everyday that you would announce you were expanding your small family. so you quickly exclaimed, “one second, i forgot something!”. he stopped, taken aback but respecting your wishes. he watched as you ran off to the bedroom, leaving your phone on the table.

as you were off scrambling through your shared drawers, he was examining his surroundings to pass time. the clock seemed to be forward by five seconds...strange. he’d deal with that later. yet suddenly the ping of your phone caught his attention.

you had a text message. he bent forward ever so slightly to read the contents of the text, not daring the move the phone from his original spot. you two trusted each other, no way would he consider this a branch of your privacy. despite that, he felt the need to read the previous messages with this person after reading what was shown on your scree.

he could feel his heart drop as he read, “okay see you then, love you”. he had never heard of this man you were texting with, but why was he texting you using that language? the language of a lover that should be reserved to coming from him towards you, not from anyone else.

and from the looks of things, you had made plans to meet this man beforehand. you had never made any mention of him yet you made plans with him? his heart was racing, he wasn’t sure if it would remain in his chest at this rate.

swiping up to investigate further, he was met with your password screen. thinking nothing of it, he inputs your password. the same one you had for years and shared with him, even when you changed it. however this time he was met with an innocent password notification.

surely this was a mis-input on his end. re-entering your password with a slower, more accurate, finger aim. the outcome was no different, “incorrect password”. why had you changed your password and why hadn’t you told him?

things were not adding up. all rational thoughts were leaving his mind as everything he had never wanted to happen might have been happening right in front of his eyes.

meanwhile you were continuing to search for the card in the bedroom, you couldn't find it anywhere. yet your attention directed to the hallway, hearing the voice of driver kim throughout the house, yelling “you’re going to be late, hurry”.

crap, you thought. things would have to wait, on your side and jumin’s. he had no time to question you about the text, silently deciding to recluse into a reserved state for the rest of the evening, from everyone, including you.

walking out of the bedroom, you met jumin in the hallway as he picked up the umbrella sitting beside the door to shield the two of you from the downpour of rain outside. opening the door, he left, barely leaving it open for you. that was nothing like jumin. perhaps he had rushed because of the time, you thought.

through a slow car ride, you felt an overwhelming sense of awkwardness. he wasn’t acknowledging your presence, which was quite unlike him. his face just remained with the same blank expression facing forward.

this behaviour continued all throughout dinner. only talking when expected to, turning his shoulder everytime you walked towards him, and disregarding any words you spoke to him. you knew this man like the back of your hand, there was 100% something bothering him.

what took a prick to your heart, however, was how he hadn’t told you what was on his mind yet. you understood the concept of privacy, but you had promised each other to always confide in the other through anything, so why was this time different?

who knew two hours could feel like two days as you waited for the event to come to an end. that way, you could finally confront him about the situation. it was killing you.

in the corner of your eye, you watched as a few of the associates started to clear up the area. you could feel the breath you weren’t aware of holding release as you began thinking about the next course of action. knowing your love, he doesn’t make sense of things unless they’re said blatantly.

finishing up with respectful goodbyes, jumin lightly signified for you to join his leave. boarding the car, nothing was changed since the car ride to the event. just the presence of jumin, driver kim, and yourself. now you had to encourage yourself to sit through another awkward car ride with your anxiety consuming you.

you found yourself at a slight ease once driver kim had pulled up to the home you and jumin shared. it wasn’t long before you found yourself alone with jumin in the comfort of the familiar walls. just as you began to get your words out, you were interrupted by your husbands deeper tone of voice.

“explain the text on your phone from earlier” he said, almost as if he were making a statement. the feeling of your jaw slightly dropping didn’t catch your attention, but it caught jumins. taken aback, you start rethinking all the texts you had received from that day. however you couldn’t come up with any results that would warrant his question being asked.

taking notice of your face, he continues, obviously not expecting a response from you anytime soon, saying “i saw the text you received earlier from a male saying he’d see you soon, even referring to you as love, what is that about?”

you couldn’t reply. you didn’t know what to say. were you really being accused of cheating right now? did his trust for you fall that much..? yet you hadn’t seen such a text. truth be told, you haven't even looked at your phone since you left to grab the card.

your thoughts were suddenly interrupted, hearing “not to mention that you’ve changed your password to your phone and haven’t told me. haven’t we agree to rely this information to each other?”. at this point, you weren’t sure if you were in shock or dreaming. surely this wasn’t real, you would never cheat on him. the only texts that were kind of similar to what he said to have seen were the plans to meet up with your friend and close cousin.

other than that, nothing he was saying was making sense. yet how come you couldn’t respond..? you didn’t want to hurt him, but you couldn’t let him go on another minute thinking you had cheated. with your phone now in the bedroom, it wasn’t like you could walk away to check what he was speaking of from the living room.

“are you cheating on me?” he asked, clearly not wanting to waste anymore time before deciding his next move. mustering up the little willpower you had left, you mumbled back “no”, leaving space to continue, but not knowing what to continue with.

a sign escaped his lips, before they parted to speak, “you’re not very convincing. you have nothing to say for the text message and sudden password change, this is very unlike the mc i know, or used to know.” those last few words sparked something in you.

perhaps it was because of the shock of the situation or the emotional imbalance you were currently dealing with, but you started to fill with many negative emotions, more so than before. betrayal, anger, and defeat were beginning to run rampant. you knew that you could not prove your innocence to jumin in this state.

giving it a go, you start to confront his accusations, saying “i don’t know what you’re talking about. i have never, and will never, cheat on you. why don’t you believe me? i love you! how could you think so little of me? are you that insecure to think every man i talk to is someone i’m trying to persue?”

oh no, you thought. you hadn’t meant to touch on his insecurities like that. you let them slip in a fit of hurt, but didn’t think about what you were saying in detail. you felt incredibly guilty as soon as the words jumped out. maybe, a night apart would be good to calm the both of you down and think rationally.

therefore, you followed up saying “i’m sorry, i’m going to leave for now, i can’t do this tonight”. quickly looking down as to not be swayed by any expression he makes, you nearly run to the bedroom.

pulling out the backpack you had since you were 18, you unzipped it to prepare for everything. you would only take essentials, such as your phone and some cash you had earned on your own, securing the items before turning the door.

walking out to the hall, you saw from the corner of your eye how jumin had left, leaving the area empty. yet one thing caught your eye, that being the present you had left from earlier.

not thinking about it much, you ran to grab it, shoving it in your bag as you left through the front door. in your unusual luck, no security guards were around. giving you the perfect chance to left without bringing yourself anu attention.

reaching the outdoors, you begin walking. to where, you haven’t decided yet. after all, you had a lot to think about. refocusing your mind after a few disappointing seconds, you pulled out your phone, being met with the lockscreen of jumin and elizabeth the third taking a nap together.

oh how things have changed in such a short time. looking through your notifications, a message from you cousin had crossed your eyes. “see you then, love you” it read. oh god, how would you explain that to jumin tomorrow.

you hadn’t introduced him to your cousin yet, mainly because he lived half way across the world. the two of you had always been close however, being there for each other when your immediate families weren’t. saying “i love you” was normal, because as children the only time you would hear those words were from each other.

never have you even thought that it could be interpreted as a romantic relationship. for many reasons, the biggest being that you were biologically related and he didn’t have a romantic attraction towards women.

thinking about it, you could understand how jumin could have taken it. as for the password, you had only changed it because of the employee who had taken your phone without your knowledge correctly guessed the password, attempting to become closer with the chairman.

coming back to your senses, you find yourself looking down the empty road with only the streetlights and moon providing you any sense of sight in the late night. you began looking for hotels nearby, coming across an affordable one for the night.

only problem being that it was 30 minutes away by car, and in your tired state you were not willingly to walk for so long. so off to booking a cab you went. finding the cheapest option, saving some money for anything you may need later, you promptly requested a ride.

with the cab puling up 10 minutes later, you began your journey to your residence for the night. the wind hitting your face from the open window as you were riding provided you with serenity, reminding you that you were still living in this moment.

as the minutes passed, you started noticing some questionable things about the driver. sure you weren’t an expert driver, but you were fairly certain cars weren’t supposed to be driving over the white line dividing the lanes. you weren’t oblivious to the cars unnecessary fast speed either. was this driver okay, you thought.

as time went on, you could only feel the car getting faster and faster. you tried getting the drivers attention, but to no avail. now they were driving completely in the opposite lane. only to switch over, then back, then over, then back.

you would be lying if you said you weren’t scared. you could feel your heart racing, almost like it were about to jump out of your chest, with your gut telling you something horrible was about to happen.

everything happened so fast. half way through the trip, a car driving towards the vehicle as the driver was driving in the wrong lane again, crashed into you head on. you started grabbing onto random things in the car as they flew around, just now noticing the several empty vodka bottles in the trunk. you felt yourself spinning inside the car uncontrollably.

glass had pierced through several parts of your body, deriving from the mirrors. with no warning, the car had fallen off the road, down through the wooded hill on the side.

with the driver now passed out on the stirring wheel, you were at a lost on what to do. the only option was to relax and pray you’d survive. suddenly, you shot forward in your seat as the car collided with one of the many trees. you felt a piercing pain throughout your body, yet your brain had no time to reregister where the pain was coming from as you passed out with your head on the drivers seat.

yet jumin was completely unaware of this. he had walked off to pour a glass of wine, and saw that you left not long after.

being left alone was nothing unfamiliar to him, but it became an extremely unpleasant circumstance after he had formed a relationship to you. he always thought you would be there with him 24/7, but now that wasn’t the case.

he couldn’t wrap his head around the events that just took place. of course he trusted you, but he couldn’t ignore the text. needing clarification as soon as possible, he contacted seven.

knowing his hacking abilities, he could only rely on him to give him peace of mind. he knew it wasn’t right, but he felt the circumstance was understandable enough. hence why he asked seven to hack into mc’s phone without giving him too much detail.

seven hesitantly agreed, it was her husband after all. if there were any affairs going on, though he doubted it, he deserved to know. getting to work, jumin got his results quickly. he was sent dozens of screenshots containing the conversation between her and this man.

it was only an easy job for seven, hacking into phones was nothing for the genius. while reading through the text messages, jumin became overwhelmed with guilt.

he read as they reminisced over their childhoods, talked about what the future held, and even planning to meet each others significant others. he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. had he really driven her away because he assumed the worst of her?

the sooner he could find where she was staying, the better. apologizing was his first priority, he would answer to his work later. being wrecked with remorse, jumin sat facing the window overlooking the city, preparing for the worst as he became increasingly more drunk as time went on.

he didn’t want to live a life away from his soulmate because of one stupid mistake. the years you had spent together meant too much to be thrown away so effortlessly. calling seven back, he asked for him to track you down.

there were many ways he could go about this. he could track her phone, follow cctv footage, or go looking around himself. whichever way he choose, jumin would give him the resources possible to do so. it made his heart break thinking how you might be spending the night alone, crying to your pillow instead of him.

upon tracking your phone, as seven had chosen to do, he had to do a double take. things weren’t adding up. were you sleeping down a hill? deciding to get clarification before taking the wrong moves, he decides to follow you along cctv footage as well.

that way, he’d be able to directly see what you were up to. following along carefully, everything seemed normal. well, as normal as the situation could get. however it didn’t take him long to catch onto the drivers horrible driving. just like you had thought, he knew something bad was going to happen.

as time went on, he watched in horror as he witnessed the car getting hit, spinning off the road, smashing the windows, and ending up in the ditch as it aggressively hit a tree in the wooded area. seven hasn’t been speechless many times in his life, but he couldn’t say anything at this moment in time.

after a minute of sitting with his face close up to the monitor, he recollects himself as he dials jumins number. the reality of the situation kicks in. how would he be able to tell him that his wife had gotten in a serious car accident? one that definitely killed the driver, there would be no way in hell they would’ve survived the impact.

“jumin, she got into a car accident. she’s besides the road outside of the city. we need to call somebody” he said, his voice slightly raising as he begins to panic. his friend was in a car accident, how could he not panic?

jumin didn’t give his mind time to process the situation before calling driver kim to take him to the scene of the accident. everything else could wait. he couldn’t find himself caring about the cheating accusations at the moment, his wife was possibly dead.

god, that broke him. his soulmate might be dead. no, she couldn’t be. she’s survived so much in her young life, a car accident wouldn’t take her that easily. but in case of the worst scenario, he needed to be prepared.

on the way to the scene, he arranged the best doctors to treat her in the nearest hospital. even if she were to end up depending on him for the rest of her life, he would be there everyday.

he could hear the sounds of sirens as they approached the scene, increasing his anxiety more and more. practically jumping out of the car as they arrived, he laid his eyes upon a box of metal extremely crushed, what he assume to be the car.

it was horrendous. the windows were completely gone with glass everywhere, the hood was shriveled up towards where the front mirror was supposed to be, and two tires had rolled off of the car.

what was of more concern to him was his wife, who was being lifted onto a stretcher. there wasn’t much he could see over the paramedics, but what he did see wanted to make him crawl up into a ball and pretend like it never happened.

like this was all a dream. like he didn’t make her want to leave their safe home, resulting in her injuries. wasting little time, he spoke to the paramedics as they examined you. careful to not direct their attention off of you, but still asking questions.

“is my wife okay? what happened?” he asked. he knew the answer to a certain extent, but he needed someone to give him the facts. not moving an eye off of your body, a male paramedic responded “we don’t know for sure. we will give you the results at hospital once we can conduct a proper exam. what i can tell you is that she’s alive, though looks to be in critical condition. the driver has passed unfortunately”.

with all due respect, he didn’t care about the drivers life in this moment. they had almost taken your life with theirs, so why should he feel sorry? the paramedic continues “as for what happened, we’re still actively investigating but this is very likely to be a case of drunk driving due to the empty vodka bottles and the drivers blood alcohol levels.”

he had to pause and compose himself, because he nearly had a heart attack hearing that information. how could someone put their passengers life in danger like that? did they not know how special you were? perhaps the driver was lucky to be dead, because if they had survived, they would be living the rest of their life behind bars.

he would get you justice for this one day, he promised himself. with jumin being allowed to ride with you in the ambulance, he quickly hopped in as you were being loaded in.

now he was given a clear view of your face right in front of his eyes. a face so beautiful given so many scars. the glass in your face, the bruises, the blood leaking from your head, they were all staring at him.

he could do nothing but stare at you the entire ride. he was worried you would give up on him if he were to turn his back. the shallow breaths you took in reminding him of your living form.

the sights around him blurred as you entered the hospital, only focused on you. he followed until a nurse told him to take a seat in the waiting room as you were rushed into surgery upon further examination.

hence why he found himself surrounded by white walls on the night after his birthday. staring straight ahead as to live fully in his head for the time being. now was when he could truly feel himself becoming tired. most likely the alcohol had worn off on him, leaving him in a haze.

3 minutes turned into 30 minutes, which turned into 1 hour, which turned into 2 hours, which turned into 3 hours. all extremely drawn out times, the only interception being the visit from the paramedics.

they had given him the things you had brought with you, many bent or broken. there laid your essentials as well as the present you have given him earlier. he could try to open the present, but it would be no use. it had already been deemed unrecognizable just by the packages damage.

exactly 200 minutes, over 3 hours, later, he was greeted by the main surgeon. mentally preparing himself for the outcome, he listens as the surgeon speaks, saying “mr. han, we tried everything we could..”

no, this wasn’t happening. he knows how this goes, but he doesn’t want to accept it. if there is a god out there, please make this be a big nightmare, he thought. yet he knows, he knows. this is real, too real.

the surgeon continues, “...unfortunately she had succumbed to her injuries. she fought until her last breath...” he blanked, being left speechless. this couldn’t be real, you can’t leave him like that. you can’t. you were supposed to grow old together.

he could feel as every structure and thing with significance fell in his life. hell, he didn’t know if he still had a life outside of you. how would he go on..? you had showed him the path to true love, accepting him like no one else ever had.

his company flourished with you present, people being grateful you were there to convince him to be a tad more human and give some laid back time. you had lightened up everyone’s life in many ways.

“...the baby unfortunately did not survive either..”

cutting off his thought process, he was now faced with confusion. the baby? what was the surgeon talking about? “what baby?” he asked.

“the baby, as in the baby you two were expecting in around 7 months?... were you not aware?” the surgeon responded. she was pregnant and hadn’t told him...? there’s no way this was actually happening. maybe they got her confused with another patient. he would know if she was pregnant, wouldn’t he?

his thoughts were cut off by the surgeon pulling up her medical records, confirming his previous statement. everything was there. he couldn’t believe, there was too much going on.

he first lost his wife and now he lost his unborn child, one he didn’t even know existed. sensing the agonizing energy in the room, the surgeon leaves with his best wishes. now left alone, he was stuck.

he had no idea what to do. he felt like crying, could he even cry...? everything just felt so numb as he realized he was on his own again. allowing his face to drop and relax, he stared at the floor thoughtless.

somehow his father knew and showed up at the hospital. had jumin called him? he couldn’t remember if he were honest, everything was going in one ear and out the other. he doubted if he was even seeing things right.

later, as he was invited to give his last goodbyes before her body would be taken to the morgue, he spoke to his love for the last time.

“i’m so sorry i couldn’t protect you...thank you for giving me the life i’ve always wanted. i never meant to hurt you like i did, please give me your forgiveness through the afterlife. take care of our child up there, my love for you won’t stop until my heart does. rest easy darling”.

grabbing a hold of your delicate hand for the last time, he placed a kiss as he left. letting you go like the princess you were. eventually he found himself outside your room door, standing in the narrow hallway. was this it for him? nothing else mattered to him as much as you did.

finding himself at home once again, the sun being awake at this point, everything hit him like a truck. only this time, he could feel his tears plaque his face. last night you were breathing, this morning you weren’t.

how could the universe do this to him? hadn’t he proved himself worthy enough of you? in the back of his head, he was reliving the event every second. he would never forgive himself for what he said to you the night before your death. he would blame himself for the rest of his life.

he could only hope you would have forgiven him by time he meets you again up there. the next week was nothing but a blur, the only thing he could remember was your funeral.

how you laid so beautifully down, now at eternal peace. being laid to rest with the child he never got to meet, but already loved so much. everyone said their goodbyes, as your friends wept for hours.

finding himself at home again, he really started to hate the place. he wasn’t meant for only him. yet at the same time, he couldn’t leave. you had lived here with him for years, your mark was stick.

as advised to do so by many, he cleared out the drawers and closet of your clothing to save in a box. one he would take with him to the grave. amongst the pile of clothes occupying the top shelf, an envelop met with his head. standing in confusion for no more than a minute, he opens it.

he could feel his eyes swell with silent tears as he read the contents of the envelope. it was a card with a picture of an ultrasound. things were making sense, you were planning to surprise him for his birthday. he couldn’t believe what he had done.

he couldn’t go on. it all hurt him too much. stopping the cleaning process, he went to lay on his bed. observing the photo of the unborn child, he couldn’t control as the tears fell, clouding his vision in seconds.

he laid there for the following evening hours, fantasizing about a life with you and the little one. wondering which parent they would’ve taken after most, innocently hoping it would’ve been you. imagining them getting married, having a happy family of there own.

but he would never experience that while on earth now that you were no longer under the sky. over time, he let fatigue overcome him, drifting off with the ultrasound photo held to his chest.

that night, he could’ve sworn it was you how had embraced him and whispered “i love you” quietly in his ear. anyone might call him crazy, or say that he’s going crazy despite his usual rational nature.

no matter what anyone else thought, he knew it was you. there was no doubting that.

---

01:32 AST - 07/28/21

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme jumin #mysme fanfic #jumin han #jumin #jumin x mc #angst

91 notes · View notes

charincharge · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Want To Wait, nineteen

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompts:

Walking in on Lyria/Rowan in a compromising position

How the hell are you two friends? We’re not. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

Aelin sighed as she scrolled through her texts. Putting Lorcan and Lysandra on the same group text had turned out to be her own undoing. Together, they were a tag team that she had not been prepared for, bouncing ideas back and forth with a never-ending list of potential suitors.

She rolled her eyes as Lysandra’s latest text came through.

WE HAVE A HOMECOMING DANCE CONTENDER!

Lorcan’s text came quickly after.

Don’t spoil it. I want to see her face in person when we tell her.

Monsters. Both of them. It seemed that something they could both agree on was wanting to be Aelin’s wingman, and it had bonded the two faster than Aelin could have predicted.

Because apparently Aelin was too picky. When the first names started rolling in, all Aelin could think was all of the reasons why they wouldn’t be a good match for her. She looked at the unanswered notification on her phone, not clicking into the text from Rowan, but reading the words clearly.

Will I see you at Homecoming?

She didn’t know why she was having such a hard time replying to it. The answer was yes. She would be there, of course. But she was nervous that if she told him that, she’d inevitably have to make plans to meet up. And she definitely didn’t want to hang out with him and Lyria on the cheerleader’s big night.

Homecoming was a huge affair at Orynth High – a full weekend extravaganza with a pep rally around a bonfire, followed by the game and a dance on Saturday night. And of course, Lorcan would be hosting a giant after party. Aelin had always loved Homecoming. She and Rowan had always gone out to dinner before the pep rally and heckled the game from the sidelines, then Aelin would force him to come to the dance, mocking the way he’d grump about going but inevitably have a good time. It was one of her favorite school traditions, but this year she was dreading it. She knew it wasn’t going to be anything like the last two Homecomings.

Coffee Cat in 30? Lysandra asked, interrupting her train of thought, and Aelin chuckled when Lorcan sent back a thumbs up immediately.

She supposed she had nothing better to do today. It certainly beat staring at Rowan’s unanswered text.

Thirty minutes later, Aelin was shocked to find her friends packed into the corner couch section of Manon’s favorite coffee spot. She hadn’t anticipated them all being there, but sure enough, Lysandra, Elide, Manon and Lorcan were all there, drinks in hand, whispering softly. Manon sat as far away from Lorcan as possible, her golden eyes narrowed as she greeted Aelin with a stiff smile. Aelin had gathered the two had bad blood, but hadn’t been able to suss out where it came from.

Lysandra patted the seat next to her and handed her a hazelnut coffee. Aelin moaned appreciatively as she took a sip.

“Okay, hit me.”

The group looked at each other conspiratorially before Lysandra beamed. “Chaol Westfall.”

“No,” Aelin responded automatically.

Lysandra held up her hand with a frown. “Hear us out! You’ve turned down at least ten other guys, and this one is a really good option!”

“He’s my lab partner!” Aelin insisted. “I’m not willing to tank my Physics grade for a handful of dates that will inevitably end poorly.”

Manon scoffed loudly. “Defeatist,” she said at the same time Lorcan said, “Cynic.”

They briefly made eye contact and looked away quickly again. Aelin could feel her lips purse in curiosity. But she wasn’t able to ask what was on her mind because Elide did it for her. “Why aren’t you two friends?” she couldn’t help but ask.

Manon laughed, her head tipping back wildly. “Because we’re mortal enemies,” she said with a wry smile at her girlfriend.

Elide looked between the pair, so starkly different in appearance – one pale and white haired, the other dark skinned and dark haired – and shrugged. “Keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?”

Lorcan raised a dark brow in Elide’s direction and smiled in a way that Aelin had never seen before. It made her strangely nervous. And if the vice grip Manon was keeping on Elide’s hand was any indication, she felt similarly.

“Back to Chaol,” Lysandra quipped, and Aelin could feel herself slouch over, annoyed. They really weren’t going to let this one go. “He’s smart. You know that because you are lab partners. He’s so polite. You already know he’s a good dancer. Remember your birthday party?”

Aelin nodded, though the memory of dancing with Chaol seemed like lifetimes ago, not mere months.

“I think he’s a super solid option,” Elide chimed in.

Aelin sighed. “And what if I ask him and he says no?”

Lorcan held up a finger. “We have a backup choice. Obviously.” Aelin held her breath, waiting for the other name to drop. “Fenrys Moonbeam.”

“What?” Aelin replied, confused. “No. He’s on the lacrosse team with Rowan.” The rest of the group stared at her, as if her comment meant anything. “I don’t want anything I do to eventually make its way to locker room talk!” she explained, her frustration with her friends rising by the minute.

“Stop shooting every suggestion down!” Manon huffed, clearly just as annoyed with Aelin.

“What are we shooting down?” Rowan’s voice called from behind the group, and Aelin jumped as she felt his hand touch her shoulder. She glanced over her shoulder at the tall boy, hovering over the back of the couch and watched as he removed his hand from her quickly, shoving it back into his pocket as he glanced at the group of friends.

“We’re trying to come up with a boyfriend for Aelin,” Lorcan explained, all too aware of the grenade he’d just launched. Aelin glared at him.

“Oh?” Rowan replied, his eyebrows shooting up into his forehead. Aelin wished she could stand up and push it back down.

“But she’s being a total naysayer,” Lysandra frowned.

“Good,” Rowan said, exhaling quickly, causing Aelin to frown at him. What does that mean? She asked him silently, and he backed off immediately. “I just mean, no one at school is nearly good enough for you.”

There was a pregnant pause of silence while Aelin struggled to find something to say in response to him, but she couldn’t think of a single thing, other that – what about you? Are you good enough? She shook the thought from her head.

“I still vote Chaol,” Lorcan chimed in, causing Aelin to sigh again.

“If I ask Chaol to Homecoming, will you all leave me alone?” she asked. She wasn’t surprised in the least to see four matching grins staring back at her. “Though, I still don’t think he’s going to say yes,” she added.

Rowan coughed lightly behind her, and she looked over her shoulder again as he cleared his throat. “I don’t think you have to worry about that,” he said, his eyes suddenly trained on the floor, his sneaker tapping lightly.

“What are you even doing here?” Aelin asked, feeling annoyed with his response, until he blanched and then she just felt like a dick for snapping.

“Sometimes Maeve sends me to do competition recon,” he said with a shrug. “So I guess I should…” He pointed in the direction of the coffee counter. “But I’ll see you at Homecoming.” His voice was soft as it addressed her, and Aelin could feel her stomach clench slightly. She nodded, waving goodbye as he made his way to the front of the line.

“Awkwardddd,” Lorcan sang, and Aelin glared at him again. Lorcan held up his hands, laughing. “What? I knew he had a new girlfriend, but I didn’t realize you two had broken up.”

Aelin felt her eyes narrow at the oafish boy on the opposite couch as the group burst out laughing, at her expense, per usual. “You all suck.”

She sighed at the expectant faces looking her way. “So, Chaol?” she asked, still unsure about it.

“Chaol,” they replied in unison, spurring another round of giggles. Aelin was so annoyed, she barely even noticed Rowan glance over his shoulder at the laughing group before exiting the coffee shop quietly.

. . .

It turned out everyone’s assessment had been correct. Despite it only being a few days warning, Chaol had enthusiastically accepted Aelin’s invite to the dance. He also asked if she’d want to go to the pep rally together, completely surprising her. Not particularly ready for a one-on-one date, she suggested he join her group of friends, which he was more than happy to do.

Aelin stared at her sweatshirt and jeans and wondered if she should dress up more for a date, but she shook it off. It was going to be freezing cold at the pep rally and game, and she wasn’t exactly trying too hard to impress the boy who had seen her strung out in science labs most days.

She was just finishing lining her eyes with dark liner when the doorbell rang. She tried to run downstairs and beat her dad, but Rhoe opened the door with a small smirk. “Hello?” he said to the brunette boy on the other side of the door.

Chaol was also wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, and Aelin breathed a sigh of relief that they both seemed to be on the same page. She bounded up to the door, pushing her dad out of the way as she made her way out of the house.

Rhoe cleared his throat. “Aelin, aren’t you going to introduce me?” he asked, and she could see the laughter in his blue eyes as she tried to sneak away.

“Dad, this is Chaol. Chaol, this is my dad.”

Chaol stuck out his hand stiffly, and Rhoe smiled as he took the boy’s hand in his. “Mr. Galathynius. It’s so nice to meet you officially. My name is Chaol Westfall,” he began all too politely. “Thank you for letting me take Aelin out tonight,” he said, and Aelin’s cheeks burned with a furious blush at her dad’s widening smile.

“You are most welcome,” Rhoe replied sarcastically, and Aelin wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She could already tell this date wasn’t going to go well if Chaol thought Rhoe let Aelin do anything.

“Shall we?” Chaol asked, extending his arm to Aelin, and she took it, looking back at her dad as Chaol opened the passenger door to his small sedan.

It was weird to be so, handled? Aelin was so used to being independent that it was strange to have someone opening and closing doors for her. It was not her usual. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. But she knew she needed to just relax and give Chaol a fair shot. At least, that’s what her friends would say.

The drive to school was short, but awkward. Chaol tried to fill the silence with questions about her week, but the pair had seen each other every day that week during class, and it felt like there wasn’t really that much to say.

Luckily, they’d decided to meet up with Lysandra and Wes for the pep rally, and Aelin was grateful that they’d saved them spots beside them. She greeted her friends with hugs, but she paused when she saw Rowan on the other side of Wes. She hadn’t anticipated him being a part of their group tonight. She didn’t know why. It hadn’t even crossed her mind.

“H-hey?” she said. His reply was overwhelmed by a massive wave of cheers as Principal Havilliard lit the bonfire, which came blazing to life in front of them. It immediately warmed Aelin, sending a small shiver down her spine.

“Are you cold?” Chaol asked, his chestnut eyes filled with concern. “I have an extra jacket in my car I can grab for you.”

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” Aelin replied. He nodded happily and watched as the pep rally started, but Aelin couldn’t focus at all. Her eyes kept sliding to the side where Rowan’s bright hair peeked out over Wes’s head. It seemed like he was getting even taller every day.

She felt this strange pressure, this weird tension settling around her shoulders, tugging her towards Rowan. She was so focused on him that she startled, surprised, as Chaol slid his hand into hers, linking their fingers.

She looked over, but Chaol wasn’t looking at her at all. He was listening to Principal Havilliard welcome everyone to the rally with a small smile on his lips. Aelin exhaled as she squeezed his hand back. It wasn’t exactly comfortable or natural, but she was giving this a chance.

She felt her heart pound as the cheerleaders ran out in front of the fire, starting their routine. Lyria settled in the front row and Aelin swallowed thickly as she watched her warm brown eyes seek out Rowan in the audience. Aelin refuse to look at Rowan’s face as he watched her. Instead, Aelin focused on the dancing girls in front of her. She watched with a wildly beating pulse as their green and gold uniforms flounced with every move. It was almost indecent.

At the end of the routine, Lyria broke form and skipped into the crowd, making her way straight to Rowan. And Aelin could feel the pressure on her hand increase as Lyria grabbed Rowan by the neck and pulled him in for a large kiss. Too large for public, if Aelin was honest.

Lyria smiled as she pressed her lips against Rowan’s again before making her way back to the group of cheerleaders, who giggled wildly at her. Despite the fire raging in front of her face, Aelin felt completely frozen. She didn’t even process the rest of the rally, ignoring the rest of the cheers and cries, until Chaol tugged at her hand.

“You ready to go?” he asked, and Aelin nodded, still in a bit of a daze.

They were silent again on the ride home, and Aelin could feel her mood souring as they pulled into her driveway. Tonight was supposed to be fun, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Rowan long enough to give Chaol the time of day. She felt awful.

Biting her lip, she decided to do something drastic. Just to get Rowan out of her head.

“So,” Chaol began as he put his car into park, but Aelin ignored him and leaned over the console and kissed him. Her hands went to his hair, tugging the dark hair as tightly as she could to her face.

If Chaol was surprised, he barely showed it, his lips moving beneath hers, responding surely and confidently. His lips were rough and chapped and dry, and their lips seemed to mash against each other uncomfortably, instead of fitting together. The lack of chemistry was so evident, that Aelin wasn’t even offended when Chaol pulled away, wiping his mouth. What a disaster.

“Umm…” Her eyes fell to her lap as she chuckled softly. “Sorry.”

She was trying to figure out a way to let Chaol down easily. It was so clear there was no romantic spark between the two when Chaol started laughing loudly. She looked back up, his brown eyes warm with laughter as he smiled at her. He pushed a strand of her pink hair behind her ear and clasped his hand on her shoulder.

“That was…” He laughed again. “Oh gods.” He looked at her with apologetic eyes, and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. “We’re still friends, right?”

At least they were on the same page. She nodded, laughter bubbling up in her chest, too. She supposed this is why she needed to start dating. To see who she actually connected with. It turned out Chaol was not that person.

“Do you still want to go to the dance together tomorrow?” he asked. “I’m still game,” he said, reassuring her.

“As friends?” Aelin said, and Chaol smiled widely.

“As friends,” he said.

Aelin couldn’t stop laughing as she made her way out of the car, getting her phone out to update the group text on their candidate.

Chaol = DUD. I’ve never had such a bad kiss.

She nearly dropped her phone as Rowan texted back. LOL.

Another text quickly followed. Sorry, don’t mean to laugh. I’m very sorry to hear that.

Aelin practically smacked her face with her hand as she groaned and all caps texted back in a flurry. THAT TEXT WAS FOR LYS, NOT YOU. UGHHHHH.

He didn’t reply again, and so Aelin put her phone away as she got ready for bed. She knew she should text the group chat for real, but she was too keyed up, thinking about Rowan. It’d been so long since his name lit up her phone, she forgot the electric jolt that ran through her spine when it happened.

And though she knew she shouldn’t have been thinking about him, she couldn’t help but run her hand between her legs, imagining what it’d be like to kiss him instead. She had a feeling that Rowan’s lips would be soft, and she wondered if their mouths would fit together perfectly. She didn’t let herself think too hard about how quickly she brought herself to release thinking of him, succumbing to sleep quickly after.

. . .

“Do you want a drink?” Chaol asked, slightly breathless, as the fast song morphed into a too-sexy R&B hit for their dance comfort.

Aelin nodded, tugging at the neckline of her dark green dress. Her dad had surprised her with it, and she couldn’t even begin to express how good she felt in it. It was the perfect length, hitting just above her knee with a soft flounce, and the neckline was tightly fitted slight sweetheart, held up by two thin spaghetti straps. It was perfect. And despite being at the dance with just a friend, she still felt remarkably beautiful. It was a strange but delightful feeling.

After their short drink break, Chaol and Aelin returned to the dance floor. She’d forgotten how much Chaol loved to dance – in that respect, her friends had chosen wisely. She ignored their pointed looks all night, though, content to just have fun with Chaol. Which, strangely, she was. Having fun. In fact, she was having so much fun that she barely even noticed when Rowan and Lyria entered the dance, hand in hand. Instead, she refocused on Chaol, her limbs flailing as she tried to keep up with the boy in front of her.

As the succession of dance songs morphed into a slower beat, Aelin anticipated Chaol taking them off the floor again, but instead, he stepped closer and hovered his hand over her waist, his eyebrow raised in question. They stared at each other for an awkward moment, wondering if this was somehow breaching the friend agreement they’d come to, but Aelin figured slow dancing with a friend was totally fine. In fact, they’d done it before.

She nodded, and he smiled, stepping closer as he slid his hand around her back, pulling her close. They swayed to the music, Chaol leading her around in circles, taking back out his ballroom dance skills and showing them off.

“I forgot what a good dancer you are,” she said, looking up at him with a coy smile. He grinned outright, spinning her under his arm and pulling her back in time with the music, never falling out of step. Aelin’s skirt flared around her knees, and she couldn’t help but tilt her head back and laugh at the sensation. It felt so good to release her worries, just for a little bit.

“My mom will be so pleased to hear that,” he said with a soft chuckle.

Aelin found herself laughing, tripping over her own feet as she tried to keep up with him, causing Chaol to snort.

“You, on the other hand…”

Aelin pretended to be offended, a pronounced frown on her lips, her brow furrowed as she chastised him. “Hey! I am extremely graceful.”

As if on cue, she tripped over her foot again, falling into Chaol’s chest with a soft thump. Both laughing, wide smiles on their faces, Chaol managed to save her fall by spinning it into a low dip.

When the dance came to a close, Aelin looked around to see a small circle of people had formed around them, applauding wildly. Chaol stepped aside and pointed to Aelin, who curtseyed as a soft blush colored her cheeks.

When the circle cleared, Aelin caught a glance of a slumped over figure on the bleachers, sitting alone, dark green eyes marred by a furrowed brow and pronounced scowl on his face. Rowan did always hate a school dance. Her heartbeat picked up as she stared at him, looking dapper in his dark grey suit. How many times had she danced with him at a school dance? It felt so odd to her to see him so far away, annoyed and alone. Her eyes flitted across the floor, looking for Lyria. She was with her usual gaggle of friends, completely unfazed by her lonely boyfriend sitting in the corner.

Aelin warred with herself, wanting to go over and say hello to him, but also knowing that she shouldn’t do that. She was just about to look away when his green eyes lifted and met hers across the room. She waved briefly, hesitant and unsure in her small gesture, but it was met with such a contented grin that she couldn’t bring herself to regret doing it.

She was about to take a step toward him when Lysandra came rushing up to her in a whirl, her arm hooking around Aelin’s and spinning her in the opposite direction.

“Come on, it’s time to head to Lorcan’s,” she said. “This party’s getting stale.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, but laughed regardless. She knew what her friend was doing. Keeping her away from Rowan. She couldn’t be trusted, left to her own devices.

Aelin looked over to Chaol, figuring she should extend the invite to him, too. “Do you want to come?” she asked, and she felt her stomach sink slightly as Chaol shook his head.

“No offense, that’s just not really my scene.”

“No offense taken,” she said quickly.

“I can drive you there, though, if you need a ride?” he offered, and Aelin was once again thrown off by how polite he was.

Lysandra smiled and wrapped her arm around Aelin’s shoulders, squeezing them tightly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest? Nah, we’ve got her.”

“Thanks, though,” Aelin said sincerely. She was grateful for Chaol’s company. With his distraction, she’d been able to keep her mind off of Rowan in a way she hadn’t before. Maybe her friends were right. She should be less of a cynic and defeatist. She could find someone. It wouldn’t be Rowan, and it definitely wouldn’t be Chaol, but, it’d be someone.

. . .

At Lorcan’s the party was already raging, the rest of them far behind the drunken students who’d left the dance early to go in search of free beer and better music.

“Babesss,” Lorcan slurred, his dark eyes unfocused as he sipped at some gross-smelling green concoction. “You’re finally here!”

He looked at Lysandra with a raised brow. “How’d it go?”

Lysandra sighed and placed her hands on her hips. “Well, she’s here alone, so I guess you were right.”

Lorcan snorted loudly. “Sorry, but I told you. The Goody Two Shoes wasn’t going to cut it.”

Lysandra handed Lorcan a twenty-dollar bill, and Aelin gaped.

“You know, I am standing right here,” she said, completely annoyed that her friends were betting on her love life.

“What?” Lorcan laughed, slinging his arms around the two girls and leading them into the kitchen. He dunked two cups into a trash bag and pulled out neon green liquid.

“What is this?” Aelin asked, sniffing the concoction dubiously.

Lorcan laughed. “You don’t want to know.”

Aelin took a tiny sip and shuddered at the sickly sweet taste of apples and some sour liquor she was sure was potent as anything.

“Just… drink it slow,” Lorcan said with a pointed brow in Aelin’s direction.

“Rude,” Aelin laughed. “I’ve learned!”

“She has,” Lysandra assured Lorcan, who couldn’t resist grinning at the two girls.

“In that case…” He paused dramatically. “Who wants to play beer pong?”

Both girls cheered exuberantly, causing Aelin to smile. If she’d told herself that she’d be part of Lorcan’s inner circle, personally invited to play beer pong with him and his friends, she would not have believed it. Things had really changed since her first Lorcan Salvaterre party.

As they approached the beer pong table, though, she was hit with a wave of déjà vu as the Moonbeam twins welcomed her with matching grins. It was almost an exact replica of the night she had made the decision to kiss Rowan. Only instead of Rowan at her side, now it was Lorcan. Something about that made her feel strange and unsettled. She looked around, as if Rowan would magically appear at her side out of thin air, but he was nowhere to be found among the throngs of drunk upperclassmen.

Fenrys cocked his head at her approach and threw a tanned arm around her shoulders. “Aelin Galathynius, as I live and breathe.”

“Fen,” Connall said in a low, warning tone.

“What? I’m just welcoming a beautiful girl to our table.” Fenrys winked at Aelin, bringing a soft blush to her cheeks under his attentions.

“Babe, are you blushing?” Lorcan laughed, poking at her reddened cheek.

“No!” Aelin said, swatting his hand away. “It’s this disgusting drink,” she said, but she couldn’t help but let her eyes slide back to Fenrys. Despite her insistence that she shouldn’t get involved with someone on the lacrosse team, there was no denying that Fenrys was incredibly attractive. And he had called her beautiful. It felt nice.

Fenry’s winked again as he caught her eye, and she was sure her face was flaming as the rest of the table burst into laughter. He let his arm fall from her shoulder to the small of her back, rubbing it softly as he took his first shot.

“Come on, partner,” he said, nudging her hip with his and sinking his first shot, much to Lorcan’s chagrin. “Sorry Con,” he said, shooting a sly smile at his twin, who simply flicked him off as he skulked away into the party.

As they played, Aelin could feel herself loosening up. Lysandra and Lorcan were predictably a power team, sinking every single shot flawlessly. And with each cup of beer Fenrys drank, he got a little looser himself, his hand grazing her arm, her back, her side, pushing her hair behind her ear with small little teasing motions.

It was different than being touched by Rowan. It didn’t have that same shock to her system, jolting her awake, but it was still electric, just at a much lower voltage.

And even though they’d lost three games to Lorcan and Lysandra, Aelin was feeling on top of the world. The green drink coursing through her system had taken its toll, making her feel light and floaty and warm all over.

“Again?” Lorcan asked, stacking the cups back into a pyramid, but Aelin shook her head.

“Oh,” Fenrys said, his shoulders sagging with disappointment at Aelin’s decision to stop playing. It made her feel invulnerable.

“I was thinking maybe we could do something else instead?” Aelin said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, causing the boy to snap his dark eyes in her direction.

“Yeah?” he asked, stepping closer to her, his body suddenly mere inches away from hers. Aelin leaned over on her toes and whispered in his ear, her voice low and gravelly from alcohol.

“Wanna go upstairs and makeout?” she asked, her heart pounding at how brazen she was being, but there was something about Fenrys’s confident smile and flirty touches that reassured her in her pursuits.

A wicked smile curled across Fenrys’s lips as his eyes gleamed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Aelin grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the stairs as Lysandra and Lorcan whooped and hollered behind them. Aelin ignored them, focusing on the feel of Fen’s hand delicately twined with hers.

At the top of the stairs, Fenrys’s control snapped, and Aelin found herself pushed up against the hallway wall with his mouth on top of hers. His lips tasted like stale beer with just a faint hint of the sticky sweet apple drink, and she found that she didn’t mind it at all. She wrapped her hands in his curly hair as his hands slid across the silky fabric of her dress, palms greedy to touch every cloth-covered inch he could. Warmth spread across each spot he touched, and she leaned into him.

She hummed as his mouth opened, his tongue sliding against hers roughly as her head hit the wall with a loud thump.

“Ow,” she laughed as they stumbled their way down the hall, teeth clinking against each other as they fell against each other again and again. Fenry’s reached out, trying each door they reached, but each and every one was locked.

“Get a room!” a booming voice called behind them.

“We’re trying,” she giggled, breathing heavily as Fenry’s moved his mouth down her neck with sloppy kisses. “Oh…” she moaned as Fenrys’s teeth scraped against the sensitive skin behind her ear. That was different. Good different.

They stumbled to the very end of the hall, Fenrys attacking her lips again as he reached behind her and turned the last door in the hallway. It turned in his grasp, and Aelin couldn’t help but moan appreciatively as Fen pressed his entire body against hers, leading them into the darkened room.

“Uhh, occupied!” a low strained voice came from the darkness, and Aelin froze, feeling like she’d been doused with a bucket of cold water.

“Rowan?” she squeaked out, refusing to look over her shoulder at whatever was going on in the bedroom behind her for fear that it might kill her.

“Aelin?!” he sputtered back, and Aelin could feel her entire body tense at the sound of rustling fabric and people moving around.

“Fenrys,” Fen said, causing Aelin to bark out a loud laugh.

“Lyria,” the girl deadpanned. Aelin’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, removing any of Fen’s attempt at levity.

“Sorry, Whitethorn,” Fenrys apologized, pulling Aelin by the waist, closer to him. “As you were…” he continued, backing up out of the room and into the brightly lit hallway. Aelin blinked several times, but all she could see was images of Rowan and Lyria, tangled in sheets, spurred on by her wildest imagination.

Fenrys leaned in to kiss Aelin again, but she was still frozen, heart pounding loudly against her ribs, so hard that it almost hurt.

He sighed loudly and gave her a reassuring smile as he took a step back. “Mood killed, huh?”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head, willing herself to hear anything other than Rowan’s breathy tone coming from a darkened room at a party. She hated how upset she felt, how she felt like she was suffocating at the idea of him sleeping with Lyria, if that’s what they were doing. Given the circumstances, it seemed likely. Aelin swallowed back a wave of nausea.

But Fenrys refused her apology, pushing her hair behind her ear as she struggled to catch her breath. “I kind of figured.” He paused, looking at her seriously. “It’s okay,” Fenrys said with too warm a smile for how much of an asshole Aelin felt like. She covered her face, completely horrified.

“I’m gonna…” Aelin ducked under Fenry’s arm and headed toward the stairs, needing some fresh air. Luckily, Fenrys didn’t make a big deal about it at all, meandering downstairs with her and rejoining another game of beer pong as Aelin snuck into the cold night.

She wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders, sinking onto a chair on Lorcan’s front porch. She stared into the distance, willing her nausea to subside as she breathed slowly. So deep in concentration, she barely even heard anyone take the seat next to her until he began speaking.

“So, I guess you got that kiss after all…”

“Rowan…” she whined. “Can we not?” She bit her lip. “I’m already embarrassed enough.”

He frowned, pausing ominously.

“Do you hate me?” he asked quietly.

“What?” Aelin asked, startled by the question. “No, of course not.”

He shrugged, his dress shirt open and rumpled, his tie long gone. “It feels like you do.” He paused.

She wanted to snap at him, unload all her hurt on him, but she paused when she took in his face. She’d never seen him look so tired, so sad. “No, I don’t hate you,” Aelin said, giving him a soft smile and earning a small smile in return.

He exhaled a long, steady breath, and leaned back in the chair, letting the rocking chair sway back and forth as he pondered his next words.

“But you don’t want to be my friend anymore,” Rowan said suddenly. Aelin opened her mouth to protest, but Rowan barreled forward, his tone urgent. “No, you don’t. I’m not that dumb, Ace. You straight up told me. It just… sucks. Because you’re my best friend, but…” He took a deep breath. “I’m not yours anymore.”

“Ro…” Aelin said, her heart tugging, wanting to comfort the boy in front of her, but completely unsure of what to say.

“No,” he repeated. “Please let me finish.” Aelin nodded, biting her lip, forcibly preventing herself from interrupting what he so clearly needed to get out. “I was so excited when I got that text from you last night. I thought, maybe you’d decided you wanted to be friends again, and then to hear it was a mistake…” He laughed sadly. “Gods, I felt like such an idiot. You’ve always been my person.” His words came more rapidly as he got more worked up. “And you decided all of this without me, and I don’t understand. Like, telling me I didn’t need to pick you up from school anymore.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated, but Aelin couldn’t really process what he was saying.

“I just figured you wanted time alone with your girlfriend…”

He practically growled as he sighed. “Why would you assume that without asking me? I only gave her a ride the first morning because she asked if I would. I’ve been driving alone to school for weeks,” he said.

“Really?” Aelin asked, confused.

“And I know I’m going to sound like a complete tool when I say that it hurt my feelings, but… that really hurt my feelings.” Aelin opened her mouth again to say something, but nothing came out. She didn’t think she’d ever heard Rowan be so forthcoming about his feelings. He was more the type of person to hold his feelings in forever.

“I didn’t know,” Aelin whispered.

Rowan scratched at the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, you didn’t ask. You just bailed.”

Then it was Aelin’s turn to frown. “It’s not like you tried to reach out!” she snapped, and she could see the hurt turn into anger as Rowan raised his voice again.

“Because you didn’t want me to!” he growled. “And… you seemed… fine.” He laughed sadly. “And I am so not fine.”

Aelin breathed steadily. “You think I’m fine…?” she laughed with no humor.

“Yeah!” he cried, exasperated. “You have all these friends, and I’m the loser with no other friends but you. Lys, Elide, Wes… they only invited me around because of you,” he laughed sadly. “And, I keep waiting for you to reach back out to me – I don’t want to force you to be friends with me when you clearly didn’t want that, but you never do.” He sighed loudly. “And without you, I don’t have anyone.”

Aelin whispered. “I don’t think your girlfriend would agree with that.” She scrunched her nose.

“Don’t tell me this is about Lyria, because you’ve been acting weird long since before she came around,” he huffed, and Aelin threw up her arms, annoyed with the boy in front of her who clearly didn’t understand anything.

“Maybe there’s just an expiration date on boy girl friendships,” she sighed, and she watched as Rowan’s cheeks grew red.

“Stop,” he stuttered. “That’s bullshit.” He breathed. “You put an expiration on it, not me.”

“Really?” she scoffed. “I put an expiration on us? Ro, we don’t talk about anything anymore. I just walked in on you having sex with your girlfriend!” she exploded. “I didn’t even know you were having sex anymore. Because we can’t talk about that stuff! Because it’s weird, okay? You freaked out when I hugged you, for fuck’s sake. Don’t tell me I put an expiration on our friendship because I didn’t.”

Aelin felt her heart pound with every staccato word that exited her mouth. She felt flames on the sides of her face, burning her up as she finally told Rowan how she felt.

“I…” He shook his head. “Lyria got accepted into a college prep program at the OU. If she decides to go, she’ll be gone all of November and December, and we’d be in a long distance relationship,” he said, causing Aelin’s heart to pick up pace again. Lyria was leaving? “That’s what we were talking about upstairs,” he said. “We weren’t, um… doing anything. We haven’t even done anything other than kiss.”

Aelin hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that, and she breathed easily as the knot in her chest unfurled at Rowan’s intense stare. She hated how much better she felt. It stung and soothed her simultaneously.

“A college program?” Aelin asked.

“Yeah,” Rowan ran his hand through his hair.

“Huh,” Aelin replied, unsure of what else to say. Rowan seemed to sense it, and she couldn’t help but crack a smile. “What? She just doesn’t seem that into her studies.”

“I knew you didn’t like her!” Rowan laughed. Aelin wanted to defend herself, but she shrugged instead. She didn’t feel like getting into how the very opposite was actually the truth.

“It’s okay,” he laughed. “I’m not Fenrys’s biggest fan at the moment.”

“Rowan…” Aelin sighed. She didn’t really want to talk about this with him. She hadn’t anticipated him seeing it. She’d wanted time to process it all. But it seemed like he wasn’t going to give her that.

“I know,” he said quickly. “I know you don’t want to be my friend right now.” She watched as he scratched the back of his. “And you can go back to hating me tomorrow, I promise. But, can we just pretend tonight? For a little bit?”

She nodded, unable to deny him her friendship. The truth was, she’d missed it, too.

And so she unleashed. Aelin found herself rambling about the last month of her life, telling Rowan about how she started cooking with Maeve, how much she loved it, and her long walks home. He apologized, not realizing that Aelin had decided to walk instead of find another ride. But Aelin waved him off, instead telling him her favorite recipes and how much she’d learned just from being in the kitchen and being a part of prep. She went on and on about how she ended up becoming friends with Manon, and the weird group of friends that had formed in Rowan’s absence. She even told him about the terrible kiss with Chaol and how she’d decided to kiss someone tonight to make up for it. He laughed heartily at her description of her bad kiss, sighing loudly as he wiped the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes away.

“You deserve a good kiss,” he said, rocking himself back and forth again, the movement starting to hypnotize Aelin as she watched.

“Well, Fenrys delivered,” Aelin said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Gross,” he muttered.

“Rude!”

He laughed as she changed the topic, telling him about her tough classes, and he immediately picked up on it, following suit and talking about his own.

Talking to Rowan was like riding a bike. A really comfortable bike. He laughed in all the right spots, and by the time they were finished catching up on Aelin’s life, she felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

He offered to drive her home, and Aelin stupidly accepted, both of them singing happily as he played her Game Day Mix that she’d made for him all those months ago. As she looked over at him, she could feel her breath catch.

Gods, she missed him. She missed everything about him. And it hurt all over again.

She was like an addict who had easily relapsed. She couldn’t believe how careless she’d been. She thought she could have him just a tiny bit, but she was too stuck on him still. She’d taken a giant step forward with Chaol and Fenrys and then immediately retreated, letting Rowan back into her heart. Who was she kidding? He’d never left her heart. She’d just gotten better at ignoring that persistent tug, always pulling her to him.

As they turned onto Aelin’s street, they fell into a hushed silence. One that was so strangely comfortable that she almost forgot he was there until he spoke up again.

“I guess we’re done pretending,” he said, rubbing his hands against his knees as he parked in her driveway, and Aelin nodded.

“I just want us to still tell each other the big things, even if you don’t want to do the stuff in between.” He paused. “Like, if you decide to date Fenrys, can you tell me?”

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” she replied softly, and he nodded again. “I don’t hate you,” she said, feeling the need to reassure him.

“Okay,” he said, relieved.

“I promise if I ever hate you, you will not have to wonder,” she sassed, and she laughed as Rowan shoved her shoulder, sparks flying up her arm at the brief moment of contact.

Aelin exited the car with a small wave and took a deep, steadying breath as he drove off into the night. Yes, she had relapsed. But, she’d also kissed two boys in two nights. She clearly just needed to push herself a little further.

She fell asleep that night, wondering who the next boy on her list would be.

~*~

If you’d like to be added to my ToG taglist, message me – HERE! (replies get lost in notifications)

Tag list:

@df3ndyr

@hizqueen4life

@maastrash

@justgiu12

@aknymph

@bamchickawowow

@thewayshedreamed

@strangeenemytimemachine

@studyliketate

@iammissstark

@heirofthenightcourt

@inkedstarlight

@cmoff1

@stardelia

@b00kworm

@wordsafterhours

@m-like-magic

@the-third-me

@cursebreaker29

@annejulianneh111

@queen-of-glass

@aesthetics-11

@xhopelessdreamer

@babycardan

@illyrian-velaris

@galyxsy

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

@rolltide7

@keshavomit

@yuya1487

@minaidss

@tswaney17

@ladywitchling

@superspiritfestival

@starborn-faerie-queen

@acer6437

@booksofthemoon

@highlordswhores

@a-scientist-and-her-scalpel

@mariamuses

@heirofthrnightcourt004

@catthefeminist

@ifinallygavein

@claralady

@elriel4life

@highqueenofelfhame

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@samcortlandisaginger

@feyresarrow

@tillyrubes10

@darlinminds

@punkassbookjockey26

@thesurielships

@harrymoncheri

@cool-ish-nerd

@althelkingshorses

@westofmoon

@sanakapoor

@louiseleblancdiggory

@lizzziebear

@viajandosinalas

@morganofthewildfire

@abookishfreak

@tottenhamboys20

@januarystears

@myfireheart-rowaelin

@jesstargaryenqueen

@empress-ofbloodshed

@faerie-queen-fireheart

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@siennasally

@peaches-and-daydream

@rosesandglass

@ms-firebreathingbitchqueen

@nikki1288-blog

@aelinmyqueen

@giorgia-the-trashpanda

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@tillyrubes10

@cityofchelsea16

@rockgirl321

@welcometothespeaknowworldtour

@sjmships

@littleboxofthunder

@fangirlprincess09

@sleeping-and-books

@rocky99

@but-she-was-aelin-galathynius

@lucy617

@thisxisxali

@ourbooksuniverse

@highqueenofelfhame

@hsilberfarb

@smalltddygothgf

@amandaswallowtail

@kindofawalkingpoem

@cicada-bones

@mynewdreamwasyou

@woollycat22

@booksbqueen

@thereaderandfangirl

@chieflemming

@sassys-world

@l0sts0uls1128

@sailorsassley

@illyrianwitchling

@julemmaes

@acciowests

@danibutterr

@kayness1901

@mysticalunicole

@cweeblr

@islabyrnex

@icantpeopletoday

@sheatemyfries

@midnightrose-reader

@camerooonchiu

@rowanwhitethornisbae

@silentquartz

@flowersinvegas

@unapologeticbombassbitch

@more-espresso-less-depresso-xx

@courtofjurdan

@bensolodidturn

@thegoddessofyou

@bloody-shadow666

@http-itsrebecca

@slytherin-25

@cassianscool

@lovemollywho

@rowaelin-cressworth

@vanzetanze

@mysticalunicole

@salma-mohammed54

#rowaelin #high school au #i don't want to wait au #charincharge writes #throne of glass fanfic #tog fanfic

321 notes · View notes

cupidsintern · 3 years

Text

wyd?

modern au, established relationship, i think nancy's gay

Steve’s on TikTok when the text comes in. He’s doing better lately, good enough that he can get baked by himself and not worry about spiraling. Instead he made a peanut butter marshmallow sandwich and listened to his most recent playlist all the way through like eight times and texted Robin for a while- she’s visiting family, lots of ‘Steve pls come rescue me pls ’- and now he’s on TikTok.

It’s not late-late. But it’s not early. And he knows Nancy and Jonathan are having issues- he heard about it from the kids who don’t get that gossip is not helpful to feelings- but he didn't know they went on a break. Until he gets the text.

10:46pm - 1 New Notification

Nancy Wheeler: Hey

Typing…

Nancy Wheeler: Haven't talked in a while. How are you?

Steve clicks the notif bar. He stares at the text. It’s not like he never talks to Nancy. She’s just not Baby <3 in his phone anymore. Hasn't been for a while. He used to wonder what Jonathan put her as in his phone.

Steve can scroll up to see previous texts- Hey i had a doctors appointment during third did you get the homework outline? And Lucas left his water bottle at our house! Mike has it with him

And, more recently: Happy Birthday! Hope it's a good one :)

But this feels different. This singular ‘hey’ in its own grey bubble kind of puts Steve on edge. He doesn't respond right away, figures he should text Robin to ask if he’s just being paranoid first but- shit she went to sleep didn't she. And while he’s typing out a “Hey when you wake up” message to Robin he gets another notif.

Nancy Wheeler: Jonathan and I are on a break

Then,

Nancy Wheeler: Sorry, I probably shouldn't be texting you haha. Just wanted some company i guess

Steve feels a hot flash of anger. Rolling in his stomach like lava. Jesus he’s too high to be this angry.

He picks up his phone again.

Types out “fuck you” and deletes it and then “thats understandable but maybe you should text one of your other friends” and then deletes it and then types out “why are you texting me we're not friends" and then deletes it and then-

Clicks back, scrolls down, and texts Billy.

You: R u still awake?

Steve gets a response within seconds.

Billy <3: aw do u miss me or smth?

Billy <3: gay

That makes Steve smile. Makes the anger cool down considerably, and he sits up a bit in bed.

You: Yes but also

You: Nancy texted me?

Billy <3: about what

Billy <3: about how she broke up with Jonathan?

You: H o w do you already know that

Billy <3: i know everything. Why’d she text you??

Steve gets another notif from Nancy. He doesn't want to open it.

Luckily, he doesn't have to right away. Billy calls him.

“No one’s home.” Is Billy's opener. “Speak freely.”

“Good evening to you too.” Steve says, relieved to have the sound of Billy’s voice to lean into.

“So what does Wheeler want?”

Steve’s thumb hesitates over the notif bar.

“She said her and Jonathan are on a break and she ‘wants company.’”

“Wow.” Steve can hear poorly concealed jealousy in Billy’s words. “That’s. Wow.”

“Don’t be j-”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Oookay.” Steve laughs a little. He still hasn't opened Nancy’s text.

“Are you going to respond?”

“No fucking way, man-” Steve starts, then another text.

Unread message: I need someone to talk to. I don’t know who else I could ask.

Steve’s brow furrows.

“What happened?” Comes Billy’s voice.

“She, uh.” Steve opens the chat finally. “Hang on.”

You: Hey

You: Seems like you're in a tough spot. Not sure I’m the right guy. Maybe you could talk about it with a closer friend?

Nancy: That’s just it.

Nancy: I don’t have any friends.

Nancy: I have no one else. Johnathon was the last person left I was close with and i fucking blew it. I have no idea what to do i'm lost and confused and i just really really could use someone to talk to.

Typing...

Nancy: Please

“Babe?” Billy again. “Yeah,” Steve exhales. “Nancy, uh. Sounds pretty bad actually.”

“She reeling you in with that act?”

“I don’t think it’s an act, Bills.” Steve sits up straighter. “Something’s wrong.”

He’s typing out a vague enough response when the next text comes in.

Nancy: I think I'm gay

Then-

Nancy: Can I call you?

I think I’m gay.

That’s. Okay. That’s… something. Something that kind of makes sense now that Steve thinks about it, connects a lot of dots Steve didn't know were floating around but.

Jesus, Nancy must be having a heart attack.

“Billy, I have to call you back.” Steve says, then realizes the kind of push back he’s going to get on that.

“Call me back?” High and mighty already. “You can't just ditch me with a ‘call you back’ when your ex is actively weedling her way-”

“She’s not weedling. She’s not doing well and she has no other friends.” Silence. “Please don’t pout-”

“I’m not pouting.”

“Aw,” Steve leans his head into the receiver a little. “If I say you look cute when you pout, will that hurt or help my case?”

“Hurt.”

“Ok, I promise I’ll call you back right after I talk to her.”

“You fucking better.”

Steve says “I love you” before he gets off the phone and is medium relieved to hear Billy say it back.

Steve calls Nancy. She takes a while to pick up. When she does, he can tell she’s been crying.

“You didn’t have to call.” Is the first thing she says. She sniffs right at the end.

“Seemed like you were having. A rough night.” Steve says. Her text hasn't fully sunk in, he’s thinking about all the times she called him crying. How they got more frequent right before the end.

“I shouldn't have bothered you, I’m sorry, you can go.” Nancy’s voice builds a little. She sounds frantic.

Steve can’t really feel soft feelings about Nancy cause all of them just piss him off or ice his blood but. He’s worried. “No, no it’s-” Then Steve hears the background noise. “Dude, are you driving?”

“I- w- yeah.” Nancy sounds a little defensive.

“Oh my god.”

“I just needed to clear my head! I know I shouldn’t have called it just…”

Steve steeled himself for the words he knew were about to come out of his mouth. No matter how much of a hothead Steve could be (not as much as Billy but still), he was still a total pushover about shit like this. “Do you. Want to come over?” Steve asked stiltedly. “If you're, you know, already driving around.”

Nancy sounded relieved when she said yes.

When Steve got outside to meet Nancy’s mom’s car’s headlights, it was raining.

“Hey,” was the first thing he said when she walked up.

Looking at Nancy doesn't do much to Steve anymore. Not the way it used to. Not the way looking at Billy does now.

Looking at Billy feels how Steve assumes people in the way-back-when felt when color TV was invented.

Nancy looks as washed out as Steve thinks she feels.

“Hi.”

“You wanna come in?”

Nancy hesitates. “I don’t. Want to impose.”

“It’s raining, Nance.”

She looks surprised, like she didn't notice. “Oh.” then. “Okay.”

Steve steps back as Nancy walks onto the smooth tile right in front of the front door. It’s quiet enough after the door closes Steve thinks he can hear her hair dripping onto the ground.

“So,” Steve says after a bit. “Did you-”

“I’m sorry.” Nancy says suddenly. But it’s not the panicked little “sorry’s” from earlier, it’s a single, earnest one.

“For what?” “Everything.” More tears are streaming down her cheeks now. “I know I shouldn't have bothered you, I didn’t- I wasn’t a good girlfriend. Or a good friend. I just. I thought maybe I would know who I was if someone else did, but I didn't. And I don’t have anyone else, and I remember when- when you told me you were bi when we were dating and I was weird about it but now i think I was just jealous- because- bec-” Nancy cut herself off, unable to keep going with the tears closing up her throat.

Steve swallowed pretty hard. “Because. You think, you’re gay?”

Nancy sat down on the floor.

“The floors all wet-”

“I know, Steve.” Nancy cut him off gently. He was familiar with the tone.

Steve looked at her, looked at the floor, and opted to sit next to her. The rain was hitting harder on the door behind them.

Nancy didn't seem like she had anything more to say. Steve tried to think of something to ask.

“Why, uh. Why do you think you are?”

“I don’t know if I am.” She said quickly.

“Why do you think you might be?”

She sighed, pushed the wet hair off her face. “You don’t have to talk to me about this. I figure it probably doesn't feel good to hear.”

Steve hadn't thought of that. If Nancy is gay, that means she probably wasn't ever actually into him. Not just after a while, but from ‘go,’ it wasn't the same for her.

“Not great.” Steve admitted. “But. It isn't about me.”

Nancy sighed again. “Why are you so nice?” She mumbled. “Both you and Jonathan.” Then she teared up again.

“I thought maybe.” Nancy started up after clearing her throat. “That I didn’t… feel as much because. I was just with the wrong person.” She glanced sideways, clearly feeling worse with every word. “But. I didn’t. I just. I felt the same. Like something was missing.”

“You always feel like that?” Steve was kind of surprised. “Like, with every relationship?”

“Romantic ones, yeah.”

The rain got louder again. “I was…” Nancy fought to say the next words. “I didn’t always feel like that.”

“With us?” Steve hopes a little. “Or with Jonathan?”

Nancy speaks a little softer, like it will soften the blow to Steve, to herself. “...With Barb.”

Billy was going to give Steve so much shit for falling for Robin and Nancy since it sounded like they were both gay. He already had gotten shit about Robin. “This is a problem unique to bisexuals.” had been Billy’s quip.

Nancy talked a bit more easily after that one admission. About why Barb's death hit her so hard. About why she felt bad for hurting Steve, how confused she was, how alone.

How she pushed everyone away except whoever held the position of boyfriend because she didn't ever feel right around people. But boyfriend seemed. Normal.

Steve was pretty familiar with feeling like he Should Do whatever was ‘normal.’ His parents weren’t exactly pleased when ‘being bi’ turned out to be an actual thing and not just a family conversation they could keep pretending they didn't have.

Nancy was crying again. Said she was sorry again.

Steve hugged her.

It was pretty awkward. He was trying not to touch her too much and her hair got his sweater wet, but she tucked her face against his chest like she always used to.

Something about that clicked. How hugs had always felt closer for them than kisses. How maybe they had been meant to be friends, and just misread the signs.

Maybe they could be friends now. Maybe.

Nancy pulled away and wiped her nose. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

Steve checked his phone to let Nancy fix her face a little and then winced at the sheer volume of messages from Billy that popped up on his screen.

“What’s up?’ Nancy asked, leaning back over.

“Oh, just Billy.”

“Oh god,” Nancy grimace. “He can’t have been pleased I came over.”

Steve opened the messages. “He’s not. But I told him it was important.” “You can. Tell him.” Nancy said tentatively. “If you want. About what we talked about. About me.” Billy was gonna get a kick out of this. But Steve felt more somber about it than Billy probably would.

It was weird.

He’d been in Nancy’s shoes. But he’d also been completely in love with her. So at once he was hurt and sympathetic.

But he also felt. Better.

Something about the two of them, Steve and Nancy, always seemed. Unfinished.

This was probably the close out they needed.

“I should call Billy back.”

“Of course.” Nancy looked almost embarrassed. “I can go-”

“Nah, stay a bit.” Steve was standing up, unlocking his phone to a slew of “wheeler has been on my shit list from day ONE” and “i know you’d never cheat like i know that i'm not crazy but my therapist said.” Makes Steve smile at his phone. “‘I'll make you tea or something."

#i just! think nancy is a lesbian #shes not been Great to either of her bfs #so maybe theres a good reason!#nancy wheeler #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve x billy #billy x steve #harringrove #harringrove fanfic #background harringrove #my fic

66 notes · View notes