#he’s still the most socially anxious sweetheart and gets pushed around so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toosweetfiddlesticks · 3 years

Note

Can I request something with Mirio Togata x male intimidating reader? So like the reader is really tall and scary looking but is a totally sweetheart when you actually talk to him. So even Mirio was a little wary at first but as soon as they actually talk he immediately falls for him.

Paring: Mirio x Male! Intimidating! reader

Summary: Mirio’s usual friendly demeanor was tarnish by the freakishly tall y/n. He always seem to be a bit solemn and cold. But, with just one little introduction, Y/N’s sweet and warm personality caught Mirio by surprise and his heart.

Side note: tysm for the request, I really appreciate it! 💕

————————————

Mirio’s eyes hastily glanced away from the lingering and spine-chilling stare of Y/N. Now, Mirio wasn’t the type to hesitate in social interactions. His many classmates could agree that he had a bright and sunny personality. He could talk to the most awkward, weirdest, grumpiest person in the world and crack at least a smile on their face. He was friendly and socialized with everyone.

But when Y/N came into the classroom, Mirio would feel a bit daunted from his mere presence.

He almost resembled a giant, towering over all his other classmates and colleagues. And his face was devoided of humor. Mirio would say he’s was quite dignifying, if it weren’t for the chilling stare he gave people almost if not all the time. But besides the chilling eerie expression, Mirio would have to admit that Y/N was a good looking guy. Y/N has stolen a couple of Mirio’s glances, peeks, or stares. He just seemed a little...ya know, scary.

Once class was over, Mirio caught another peek of Y/N once again before focusing back on packing his bag once Y/N glanced his way. Mirio hummed a little as the quick taps of Nejire’s shoes and the dragging feet of Tamaki came towards him. Nejire’s long light blue hair pushing and rubbing around the anxious boy’s flustered cheeks and eye. A broad smile wore on her face.

“Mirio!” She waved a hand towards Mirio, catching his attention. His face had the iconic Mirio smile painted all over it as Tamaki struggled to pull Nejire’s hair out of his face. He felt his cheeks burn from embarrassment as people were already staring at the two cause of her call towards Mirio. “You doing anything today?” Nejire asked. Mirio rubbed his thumb and pointer finger against his chin in thought. Besides some studying, he’s schedule for the complete day was empty.

“Nothing besides studying to night.” Nejire smiled and clapped her hands together at Mirio’s reply. The two completely ignoring the still struggling Tamaki.

“Great!” She cheered, “Y/N-” Tamaki, who was able to swim and free himself from the sea of Nejire’s hair, cut Nejire off before she could finish. He eyes staring intensely at the enormous student leaning on the wall through window.

“Is scary.” Tamaki remarks, making Mirio nod in agreement.

“No silly!” Tamaki winced at the loud laugh that bubbled up in Nejire’s voice. “Wanted to know if he could hangout with us today at the mall.” She explained, “He’s been really wanting to talk to you guys.” The boys reaction made it seem like she was talking about cannibalism. Their eyes nearly bludged out of their skulls, earning a small look of puzzlement at the two.

Y/N, the guy that gives the most deadliest death stares...Wanted to hang out with us?

“Come on guys, he’s super nice once you give him a chance.” Mirio internally questioned her statement. Super nice? Maybe he was being a little too judgmental. “Mirio, you always love meeting new people.” Mirio couldn’t argue with that.

“You do have a point.” Tamaki concerningly stares at Mirio and worries at his words. But no matter how much he wanted to protest, the two had their minds made up. He mumbled a few words along the lines of agreement, his hand clinching the arm of his other.

“As long as he is as nice as you say..” Mirio heard mutttered under Tamaki’s breath. Seconded that.

———————-

Nejire cheerfully hopped along to Y/N with the other two weary behind her. Y/N’s back leaned on the exposed brick wall, his expression the usual blankness besides the cold stare he was giving his phone. As the other two behind her were a bit confused on why Y/N was giving his phone the death stare, Nejire swung her hands high in air as the reached him closer, catching his attention. She chirped up, yelling his name with a smile.

“Y/N!” she yelled. While Nejire jogged over to Y/N, Tamaki and Mirio’s pace only seemed to increase by alittle. A shiver were crawling down both of their spines. Wow, how is he able to be leaning against a wall look intimidating, pretty impressive, scary, but impressive.

The more they got closer, the more of the sense of anxiousness snaked around Mirio. He looked at Nejire, she was excited to see him. And she really wanted them to meet Y/N. It would be mean to hurt Nejire’s feelings Mirio swallowed his anxiety.

With a determined look in his eyes, Mirio began to walk more proudly and with confidence. Ok then!, Mirio internally exclaimed, Y/N’s a nice guy, and wants to be friends. It’s time to make a friend.

Mirio gave his most friendliest smile and locked eyes with the taller boy. But unlike the intimidating stern Y/N usually give people, his eyes enlighten with a spark of surprise and happiness just like the rest of his face. It seemed so much brighter than his usual blank expression. Did Mirio see a look of... excitement? Y/N cheeks rised like the sun, his smile being even brighter. With a small laugh, he broke eye contact to hug Nejire and a shocked Tamaki.

“Hi! I hope I didn’t ruin any plans for you guys or anything.” He spoke with cheerfulness. “I don’t really have many friends and you guys seemed friendly.” Nejire waved him off and gave his cheek a soft pinch with a smile as his scratched the back of his head. He turns his attention back to Mirio again, “Hug?” Mirio’s felt a sense of a indescribable feeling in his chest.

“Of course!” Mirio replied. There as no longer a feeling of weary or hesitation, expect embracement. The feeling of Y/N’s hands closing in around Mirio’s shoulders was, warm and soft. His breathing was slow and he squeeze tight, embracing Mirio as much as he could. The feeling was like hugging a big soft teddy bear.

Woah

Y/N and Mirio thought. Mirio’s smile was so sweet and his ocean blue eyes were as deep as the seas. He’s touch opened a cage of buttflies in Y/N stomach, swirling around up to his heart

Y/N’s warm touch made Mirio’s heart jump in excitement. His smile shined as bright at the other.Their touches to on another, felt like electricity on each other skins. Their hug lasted longer than it should have, but it didn’t bother each other. (But Nejire and Tamaki was lowkey confused)

Y/N finally let go, with a feeling of warmth on his cheeks.

“They have ice cream that’s really good.” He words were almost fumbled, “Wanna go get some guys, I can pay if you want!”

———————

“You sure you don’t want me to drop you two off?” Y/N concernly ask. Him and Mirio sitting on the sidewalk, finishing up their second ice cream of the day. With bags of clothing in one hand and Tamaki’s hand in another, Neijire waved Y/N’s concerned look.

“Don’t worry.” Her brigths reassurance calmed Y/N worries down a little. “Tamaki and I live close together anyway!” And with that, Tamaki and Nejire began to walk away, Nejire skipping happily off with Takami being pulled along. She waved at them with her bag filled hand once again before skipping away. “Bye!”

“Bye!” Comfortable silence consumed the two boys after waving to Nejire back.

As the sun began to slowly creep away, Mirio’s eyes casually examined his friend. Even now he was surprised at how open and friendly Y/N is. He guessed he never noticed Y/N bright e/c (eye color) eyes with that soft look in it. It always seemed to be so intimidating from far away. Either way, the intimidation is in the past and he’s happy to say that Y/N was his friend now.

Once the sun was completely gone, the boys were about to go separate ways...

Until

“Y’know,” Y/N spoke, “I was always kinda of intimidated by you.” Y/N looked back to see Mirio’s widened eyes with honest ones. His hands shoved down into his pocket as Mirio looked at home with puzzlement. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squinted, wondering if he was serious.

“Really?” As mirio approached closer to Y/N again, Y/N in confirmation.

“Yep.” Y/N answered. Sighs left his mouth as he looked at the now appearing stars. He watched them sparkle and gleam back down at him. “You’re strong and you have such a powerful quirk.” He continued. “On top of that, you were always so kind to people. I guess you can say I was kinda jealous of you and the people around you.” He looked back down at Mirio, his head tilted at the h/c (hair color) boy.

“Jealous?” He asked. ”Why jealous?” Y/N approached Mirio closer as he continued, “I mean you have any amazing quirk yourself?” He countered but was only left with a chuckle.

“I wasn’t jealous of your quirk.” Y/N replied, “I was jealous of the people that got to see your beautiful smile, Mirio.”

Y/N smirked at Mirio slowly began to notice how close they were. His high cheeks were began to pour with pink, and his face began to warm. Y/N’s chest filled with a feeling of fuzzy warmness as their noses seemed to almost touch. Their eyes were glued on each other’s lips.

“Y/N..” Mirio slowly said. “Can...” Y/N’s nostrils flared as Mirio inhaled. He mentally prepared himself for this, “can I kiss you?”

Silence engulfed each other. The stars watched the two stand in the thick air of tension. Y/N almost couldn’t even find the words he was looking for cause of excitement. Passionately, he spoke.

“...yes.”

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djarrex · 3 years

Note

Goth Gf Anon🤙

Alright, alright, alright. Since that Tech piece was fucking phenomenal a d you said you don't get any thots of your faves, I'll lend one of my Fives thots.

So, it's the end of the war, Chancellor Palpatine had been exposed for his plot against the Jedi and executed for treason. The Republic and Seperatists made peace treaties upon realizing they were played on both sides. The war is over, Fives is a war hero, a statue in front of the Jedi Temple in his honor. But he could care less when you're smiling at him, tears in your eyes with the proudest glow on your face.

The Clone production on Kamino is halted, leaving the troopers, cadets and infants in a limbo. The Senate passes a bill allowing the Clones unalienable rights, passing adoption bills allowing civilians to adopt baby clones as their own. The Jedi also demand each and every clone has their chips removed. Scientists are working on a serum to slow their aging process down back to normal.

Fives rejoiced in victory, finally happy that the war was over and his brothers were treated as humans. But you.

He was over the fucking moons that he could be with you, not a war, battles or campaigns to keep you apart.

He marries you within the week of the marriage bill being passed.

You move to Naboo, Anakin had left the Jedi Order and started a home with Padmé and his twins, they visit you often, dropping off Luke and Leia when they're off on Senate business or off doing young couple things.

Fives loves seeing you with the twins, there's just something so domestic about it. When he sees you take care of them, make them giggle, feed them. And when the Skywalkers come back and praise you for taking such good care of their babies... it stirs something primal in his gut.

You two are intimate one night-- like many after you married. He's crawling up on his peak, he's right there, his brain switches off, spit firing shit as his thrusts start to stutter like the words rolling from his tongue, thick as honey.

"Y-you-- you looked so good with those-- shit!-- those fuckin' kids!"

"Wanna make you! Fuck, baby-- I'm g-gonna m-make you a fucking mother-- oh shit!"

"Gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart!"

And you're thinking: "What a pleasant turn of events."

Then you just start fucking feeding him.

"Yes, yes, yes, Fives! Anything you want! We'll fucking grow old together!"

You moan, "Put a fucking baby in me, cum deep."

And he can't hold it anymore, an inhuman sound ripped out of his chest and tearing through his throat as he slams into you one more time, his spend shooting deep. 11/10 best orgasm he's had.

Afterwards, you both talk it out. You've always thought about starting a family with him, thinking about how good of a father he would be considering the way he always looked out for his brothers. Fives explains himself a little more clearer after the fact, and you decide you'll go to the med center to get your contraceptive implant removed the next time it has to be replaced. You've decided you wanted to start a family with him.

Apologies if this was lackluster, I don't usually write smut lines lol.

Ciao ;)

!!!HOLY OMTHER OF GOD

I...I- don't even know how to respond to this. it’s late I KNOW but I’ve been trying to come up with a worthy reply.

whyyyyy did I start fucking tearing up when going through each word in the first half WHY this is so beautiful and Fives deserves so much more and I love him. this is perfect, you are perfect. when he starts blurting out his desires "Wanna make you! Fuck, baby-- I'm g-gonna m-make you a fucking mother-- oh shit!" I- uh- yeah. that sent me. "What a pleasant turn of events" LMAO. ME. please write this as a fic. lackluster? mmmm no not even close. I love this

But seriously, how do I even add anymore to this already perfect droplet of heaven you so graciously placed in my inbox. tbh though, my gutter brain immediately wants to analyze how that night goes:

(18+ only!!! fluff, breeding kink, unprotected piv)

***

you were blissfully unaware of the way Fives gawked at you earlier today - how he watched you with so much love and adoration in his eyes as you giggled with Luke and cradled Leia to sleep

It didn’t feel appropriate, but he couldn’t help but get hard at the vision playing out in front of him - wholesome domesticity, soft giggles, and hushed coos filled his very own living room and he just needed to step away to take care of his painfully hard and aching erection

Fives can't help it - up until recently he was sure on having a dark fate, one that either involved being killed on the front, or worse: never being able to truly make you his because of his sole duty to fight for the Republic just would not allow such a peaceful and perfect life - it would hurt you more than he would care to live through

He didn’t realize just how badly he wanted the twins to be his - living, breathing, beautiful humans that you and him had created out of love, and, well, good fucking sex

So Fives came back from the bathroom after tugging himself raw - trying to alleviate that wanting ache that’d been sitting heavy deep in his bones and showing its face in the form of starving arousal - and the Skywalker’s had returned from Coruscant to pick up their babies

Fives hadn’t turned the corner yet - the soft voices coming from the three of you, keeping quiet while the twins were finally asleep, stopped him in his tracks. He heard the way Padmé praised you and thanked you over and over for always watching the kids, and Anakin cooing in the sweetest voice Fives had ever heard his former General speak in right at his own sleeping babies.

Your own voice was extremely soft and kind, careful as to not wake the twins up in the hand-over. Fives’ heart - and cock - were aching.

That's what Fives is thinking of as he’s pounding you into the next system - watching with hungry eyes at how your pussy so beautifully swallows his cock, yet he can't help but be slightly distracted when all these thoughts about filling you full with his seed are stemming from how motherly and breathtaking you looked when interacting with the Skywalker twins - how you always look when you’re watching them

You’re both so close to finishing - Fives groans at the way your walls squeeze unforgivingly around him as you approach your climax - a sight that is most devine to him. He’s right there as well - the relentless clenching of your cunt sure as hell pushes him right there to where he’s about to-

“Y-you looked so good with the - mmph - the twins" he doesn’t even realize he’d just voiced his thoughts aloud - albeit, in the form of a growl - until he sees how your eyes widen after struggling to come down from your first high

He’s no where near embarrassed - perhaps it was finally fucking time to let you know just how painfully hard you make him when you’re all motherly and in caretaker mode

The way your features morph from being caught in surprise to desperation and hunger completely takes the filter off of him - and he begins voicing his plans for the two of you in the heat of the moment

“Wanna - aghh- fuck a b-aby into this sweet p-pussy” his teeth are clenched tightly together as he continuously hits that exquisite spot so deep within your heat and your head is positively spinning at his shameless confessions - fuck, you want him to make good on his word.

“Fuck... you’re nearly ch-oking my cock, pretty thing,” he grits out between heavy pants. “You want me to, hm? Wanna let me - mmphh - fill you so f-fucking deep that you swell with my child?”

Your body is on fucking fire - you’ve never heard Fives speak of this before, and boy oh boy it is 100% welcome right about now. Yes, yes you want that so, so bad but you never thought to bring it up before because everything was still new with how the galaxy has changed for the better... but right now - you’re going to fucking feed him so he can have the best orgasm he’s ever had

“Yes, love, please,” you’re whimpering those three words like a prayer over and over between loud, uncontrollable moans - completely taken by him and the way he looks so gorgeous in this determined and concentrative state. “Shit, fill me up with our child,” you punctuate your mewling request with the repetition of his name - you’re hitting your climax again but this one is about to utterly wreck you like never before. “Right now.”

Fives’ eyes clamp shut and the sweat on his brow is beginning to drop from his forehead to your bare chest with how he is hovered over you - your soft but commanding words has the most gargled and loud groan erupt from deep within his chest as he stills his hips

You can feel the way his cock pulsates so far inside of you - liquid warmth spitting from the head and no doubt seeping into your cervix

You’re both completely out of breath and totally fucked-out - you think that’s the most Fives has ever cum, and you’re just staring up at him with the sweetest smile you can muster in your exhausted state

“We can talk about it more later, but...” Fives rubs at his neck after hauling himself off of you - pulling you close to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around your torso.

“No need,” you say softly - your hands wrapping around his forearms. “I’ll have them remove the implant on my next visit.”

Your words of promise has Fives uncontrollably getting hard again

***

Tags! Please fill out my form if you wanna be added <3

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#goth gf anon #god-tier thot ty non-non #fuck. I love him #he deserves a happy ending. jfc please give it to him #thots with M #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives smut #18+#djarrex writes #fives x reader #arc trooper fives

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

far away facetimes

pairing: taehyung x reader

warnings: cursing, alcohol (because it’s me)

a/n: yes i know i said i wasnt going to flesh anything out but here we are. i write vibes only, no plot. read this, it’s kind of a part one. inspired by @taetaespeaches bc liv is the keeper of all vibes

***

it’s still new. whatever you and taehyung are doing. you miss him when he’s not around, which is most times. but you can’t tell if he feels the same.

You think he does, and that it’s your anxious mind telling you otherwise.

he calls you close to 3 PM, meaning it’s close to 4 AM for him. you’re only in your apartment, drafting plans and thoughts for your upcoming podcast episodes in your office corner. Which is really just a desk and some pretty things in your living room.

It’s cozy, as taehyung has said before. To which, you’ve always just scoffed- what would he know about cozy, anyway?

You answer his FaceTime quickly, before the second ring.

“Hi-“

An exclamation of your name and taehyung’s wide eyes is what you hear and see. Jungkook is next to him, but not looking at the screen. And Jin on his other side.

You sink in your seat. You wonder what he’s told the boys about you.

“Hi, Taehyung,” you say sheepishly.

Another call of your name. It sounds sweet on his lips.

It looks like they’re in a car and the closer you look, you see Jungkook falling asleep.

“Hi,” taehyung says, “I missed you.”

His voice is raspy, the kind of rasp that comes with alcohol. You know he’s not a big drinker, but still the sentiment warms your heart.

“I missed you,” You mumble, “where are you coming back from?”

“Dinner and karaoke,” Jin answers for Taehyung.

Jin’s words are slurred, his cheeks flushed. Jin takes taehyung’s phone despite his protests and you’re met with Jin’s handsome face and drunk eyes.

“Did you have fun, Seokjin?” You ask with a laugh.

“Of course we did. We always have fun,” Jin grins, “would’ve been even more fun if you were here. Especially for Tae-“

Taehyung snatches the phone back from Jin, and Jin erupts into peals of laughter. Your cheeks burn in the best way.

“Stop embarrassing me in front of my girl,” Taehyung says, but there’s no heat behind it.

Your heart stops and your brain short circuits. His girl?

Butterflies erupt in your belly and you’re certain you’re thirteen again, with your first crush.

“What’re you doin, sweetheart?” Taehyung says, focusing his eyes on you.

“Just some work. It’s like... 3 pm here,” You reply, pretending like the pet name doesn’t send a wave of affection through you.

“Workin hard,” Taehyung beams, “so what’re you wearin, sweetheart?”

The affronted gasp you give him is enough to send him into a fit of laughter, leaning against Jin to catch his breath.

“I’m kidding. I’ll wait till I’m alone to ask,” He says, and Jungkook stirs from the movement.

“You woke Jungkook up. Stupid,” You shake your head and ignore the flaming in your cheeks.

Jungkook looks at taehyung’s phone for a minute before realizing it’s you.

He shouts your name and then, “Come back soon, we miss you!”

“I will, Jungkook,” you murmur, fondness for him spreading through your chest, “Sleep well, honey.”

“Hey, you don’t call me honey,” Taehyung pouts.

“Because you ask me what I’m wearing in front of your friends,” you deadpan.

You hear Jin giggling in the background and can’t help your own laughter.

“Call me when you get inside,” You offer, “Be safe.”

Taehyung nods and waves at you before ending the call. You’re already looking forward to speaking with him again. You missed him more than you thought.

It’s not to say that life stopped when you didn’t speak with him. Most of your relationships and friendships have always been somewhat long-distance- going weeks without talking and it being normal when you catch up.

But with Tae, it’s different. You want to hear about whatever is happening as it happens, not after the fact.

He calls twenty minutes later, once he’s in his pajamas, his face is washed and he’s under the covers. The faint glow of the lamp illuminated the soft planes of his face. You’re struck with the desire to push his hair back, and your stomach churns in loneliness.

“Hi again,” you chirp and wiggle your fingers in greeting, “Everyone safe in bed?”

“Yeah. We had to carry Jungkook upstairs to bed,” Taehyung says fondly, “and Jimin brought a girl home.”

“Of course he did,” you laugh, “what about you? Where’s your girl?”

You want to hear him say it again, and you both know it.

“My girl’s in New York City. The big Apple. You might know her,” Taehyung says coyly.

Your heart skips a beat and you can’t stop the bashful smile from spreading.

“It’s a big city, Tae. You might have to come show me.”

“Or you can come here. And I can introduce you.”

“That would be nice, huh?” You say dreamily, “Explore Seoul with my own tour guide?”

“That’s all I am to you? A tour guide?”

“Were you expecting more, baby?” You laugh, the pet name slipping from your lips easily.

“Seriously, Kook was right. You should come back soon,” Taehyung murmurs.

“I will, Tae. I want to,” you promise, “you should come here, too. You’d like Brooklyn. You’d like everything about the city.”

“Should we bet on it? That I’d like it?”

“Either way, I think I win.”

Taehyung yawns widely, snuggling into his comforter. The urge to push his hair back strikes once more, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed.

It doesn’t feel normal to you, and Taehyung is nothing if not perceptive.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

“N-nothing,” You say quickly, “I just-I just miss you, miss you more than I thought I would, and you make me feel vulnerable in a good way, but I’m not used to it.”

You cut off your rambling with an embarrassed sigh. He’s smiling at you in his signature boxy way and you wonder if you’ve scared him off. It appears not.

“I’m not very used to it either. But I think we both have to get used to it if we want to see where this goes...” Taehyung murmurs.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve never been so far outside of my comfort zone. But... you’re right, Tae,” you murmur, “I’ll let you sleep. It’s almost 5 AM there.”

“Goodnight, princess,” Tae says with a yawn. He cracks an eye open for your reaction- he’s testing our pet names for you and trying to gauge your reactions on what you like.

If the flustered wave of your hands and shy goodbye is anything to go by, he’d say that you quite like ‘Princess’.

***

Your eyes are glassy and blown as you stare at yourself in the mirror. The mirror itself is dirty and smudged, but you can still see your dark eyes and dark hair. In fact, you’re nearly seeing two of yourself in your reflection. You run a hand over your face with an annoyed groan.

It’s a Wednesday night, you were only supposed to go out for happy hour with your good friend, and somehow that turned into a mini bar crawl. You and Pari are at your third bar of the night, and it’s only 8 PM.

It didn’t hit you, how drunk you were, until you had caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. And then you start to giggle to yourself about it.

Without thinking twice, you text Taehyung. Or at least, you try to. Once you press send, you tuck your phone in your bag and head back out to the bar, already forgetting that you had texted him.

You’re at the bar again, next to Pari. She hugs you close as if you weren’t gone for only five minutes. You had both made some friends, friends whose names you can’t remember for the life of you. But you’re having fun, dancing and singing along with strangers and a drink in your hand.

Pari was more of the social butterfly out of the both of you- but that wasn’t to say that you weren’t in your element. It just took you longer to feel comfortable.

Your lips are loose for the most part, but you still have your wits about you somewhat.

Pari has an arm around your waist as you both stand at the bar and bounce along to the beat. A boy, really a man, approaches Pari from her right side. He looks familiar, from somewhere. It takes you about forty-five seconds to realize that he’s one of Pari’s coworkers.

“Go! Go have fun,” You say excitedly, pushing her towards him.

And then you’re alone, with your drink. You pull your phone out, checking your notifications with just one eye open. The words on your phone blur together if both your eyes are open.

Maybe you don’t have all of your wits about you.

You lean back against the bar, elbows propped up and nearly slip on the wet floor. The boots you’re wearing have a flimsy sole that doesn’t provide much support. You’re fully prepared to fall on your ass- it’s not like it hasn’t happened before- but a pair of arms catches you before you can. Warmth bursts through you, after all, it’s not often that you’ve been touched this way.

“Uh,” You say eloquently and look up at your savior.

“Saw you about to fall. I guess you can call me your knight in shining armor, huh?” He says with a wink and you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, you wish,” You scoff without missing a beat, “Corny. I’ll buy you a drink. To say thank you.”

He stands closer to you but you hardly notice. You’re busy wondering if Taehyung has texted you, your thoughts floating away. But you’re still here.

“A pretty girl buying me a drink? Sign me up,” He grins at you and you roll your eyes.

You only smile at him, bright and brilliant, and you don’t even realize that the boy’s breath catches when he sees you smile.

“Pick your poison,” You murmur, leaning close to him. Close enough that you can see the wet sheen of his lips.

He tells you what drink he wants but then follows it up with something he thinks is smooth, “can I pick you, too?”

You laugh despite yourself, “You can try. Doesn’ mean I’ll let you.”

He pouts at you and you laugh again. Maybe you’re being mean. He’s cute, big eyes and a pretty smile. But he’s not your Taehyung.

You’re suddenly hit with a tidal wave of missing him.

“Why not?”

“I have a boy-” You cut yourself off. Boyfriend isn’t the right word. “I have a boy thing.”

“A boy thing.”

“Yes,” You reply, “Enjoy. Sure I’m not the only pretty girl buyin’ you drinks.”

With that, you stumble away and pull out your phone again. Your stomach flips happily when you see that Taehyung has texted you. Three times to be exact-

you: h you: h you: hi

tae: h tae: h tae: hi

you: hi you: tae

At the thought of him, you’re overwhelmed with the desire to go to bed and call him. You search for Pari, spotting her with the boy from earlier who had approached her at the bar. They’re making out in a not so secluded corner of the bar. You order yourself a water and take a seat at a booth, holding back a yawn.

You finish two glasses of water, before wondering if you should maybe go home after determining what Pari’s plan of action is. Your phone buzzes on the table.

tae: hi tae: princess tae: what are you doing

you: drinking you: drinking water you: alcohol before. water

tae: good girl

You don’t pretend like that doesn’t send a bolt of excitement through you.

tae: can i call?

You’re already calling him before even replying, despite the loud music and chatter that surrounds you- you just want to hear his voice.

“Good morning,” Taehyung says once he answers.

“Hi,” You mumble, “Good morning. ‘S nighttime here.”

“Yeah, that’s time for ya,” He teases, “I can’t hear you well, Princess.”

“Shuttup,” You laugh, “still at the bar. Gonna ask Pari what she wants to do...”

“Text me until then?” Taehyung asks.

“Okay,” You breathe, “Talk to you soon.”

Pari has pulled away from her hookup and makes her way over to you. You offer her an eager wave as she tells you all about the boy she was hooking up with.

“Who were you on the phone with?” Pari asks curiously.

“Uh. Tae,” You shrug sheepishly.

Pari squeals excitedly, asking you a million questions a minute.

“Oh stop,” You wave her off, “I’ll tell you about ‘m tomorrow. What are you doin’ tonight?”

“Think I wanna g’home with him,” Pari grins and wiggles her eyebrows.

“I knew it! Need condoms?” You ask, “’cause I don’t have...”

“Nah, I’m good. ‘M prepared,” Pari winks, “We’ll ride home with you. And leave from your place.”

“What? No, I can go home by myself,” You protest stubbornly but she silenced you with a look, “‘m not even that drunk!”

She only rolls her eyes at you, already calling for an Uber. You don’t fight her on it, instead chugging your water. You wave at Pari’s new friend, who looks awkward and adorable just standing there. He sits next to Pari and relaxes when you introduce yourself-

“I mean since Pari hasn’t. What a jerk,” you giggle at her offended look.

“Probably afraid we’ll tag team her,” He agrees, ruffling Pari’s hair.

“Oh, haven’t we already?” You reply easily and Pari glares at you both fondly.

“I don’t like this,” Pari informs you, “Wish your boy thing was here so we could tag team.”

At the mention of Taehyung you sink in your seat as your cheeks heat up. You truly don’t remember the last time a boy has held your attention for as long as he has.

You wonder if it will fade. You hope not.

“How far is the Uber,” You ask, changing the subject. Pari doesn’t notice, and she jumps up when she exclaims that it’s here.

You sit in the front seat, allowing Pari and her friend to cuddle in the back. And also allowing you to text Taehyung with no questions from your friend.

you: hi. Going home now tae: alone? You: no, Pari and her friend are riding w me tae: ok good. call when you get home? you: yes pls

You contemplate sending a yellow heart emoji, but by the time you finish thinking about it, it appears your thumbs have done the thing anyway.

you: 💛 tae: 💛💛

You stifle the giddiness that erupts in your chest.

Once you’re changed, out of your clothes and into pajamas and bare faced, you climb into bed with a yawn and finally FaceTime Taehyung. You’re still a little tipsy, the alcohol wearing off before.

“Tae,” You murmur when he answers, your voice hoarse, “Hi.”

“Hi pretty,” Taehyung replies and again, it sends your heart into a frenzy.

He looks good, and you lick your lips without realizing it. He’s wearing glasses, his hair shiny and a light brown, bangs parted on either side of his forehead. And you see a mint green sweater on him.

“How was your night-“

“You look really good-“

You say at the same time and you laugh with him.

“You look good,” He counters, “Saw those pictures you sent me with your friend. You’re pretty in those and you’re pretty now.”

“Oh stop,” You wave him off and avoid meeting his eyes.

He only smiles at you, in that way.

You tell him about your night, how you were only supposed to have one drink which turned into going to three bars. You tell him about your new friends who are still nameless and about Pari’s hookup.

“I think a boy was trying to talk to me. He said I was pretty, after he caught me before I fell. Bought him a drink to say thanks. And then he said ‘how can I say no to a drink from a pretty girl’- I mean how corny-“

“He was definitely trying to get your number, princess,” Taehyung says, “what did you say?”

“Made fun of him. And then said I had a boy thing,” You say easily with a laugh.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

“Wow, look at you putting two and two together.”

“What does that make you? My girl thing? Is that what I should call you?” Taehyung asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, his hand under his chin.

You hardly hear his question, he sounds muted for a second when you catch a glimpse of his tanned skin. A thin necklace sits at the base of his neck and you swallow nervously.

“Huh?” You answer, “Oh. You can call me whatever y’wanna call me.”

Tae only gives you a smile, the kind of smile that lights up his entire face in response. Your heart flutters again but you maintain eye contact with him.

“Even... my girl?”

“Think were passed that, sweetheart. Just ask Jin and Kook,” You grin.

“I’m tryin’ to be cute,” Taehyung nearly whines.

“Try a little harder.”

And this time he does whine and pouts at you. You wonder if he can tell how flustered you are, how wired you feel. Just from his words.

“What is it?” Taehyung asks, seeing you retreat back into your mind.

“Hmm?”

“You’re floating away from me. Come back to me, princess,” Taehyung murmurs.

You want to be vulnerable to him, expose bits and pieces of some of your not so nice parts. Maybe someday you will. But not today.

You want to admit to him that you’re not used to this, to the pet names, the missing a boy to this degree, the wanting him as much as you do. You want to bare your lonely heart out to him, but something holds you back.

“Uh, well if I’m your girl. Does that mean you’re my boy?” You ask with a bright grin, pushing your thoughts to the back of your mind.

Taehyung takes a few seconds to reply, words stolen by your pretty smile. And yet, he’s seen your smile burn brighter.

“I mean, that’s how it works, sweetheart,” Taehyung rolls his eyes with a laugh.

“I suppose, if I must,” You say with a yawn.

“Don’t make it sound like such a chore. To be my girl, I mean.”

“I’m honored. To be the chosen one.”

Taehyung stays on the phone with you until you start to doze off and jolt yourself awake. He has to go anyway, to get ready to do some more press with the boys.

“Sleep well, princess,” Taehyung’s voice is low and sweet, curling around you and pushing you closer to sleep. You mumble a response to him and say goodbye to him, sleep washing over you as soon as you hang up.

Before you fall asleep, you text Pari a quick text, telling her to let you know if she needs anything. And then you welcome sleep.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung #bts x reader #taehyung #taehyung fic #taehyung imagine #bts imagine

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jeonsblackgf-writes · 3 years

Text

ONE PLUS ONE || 2 ||

✨Summary: Trials and tribulations of Vinnie and his gf

✨pairing: Vinnie Hacker x black!OC

✨genre: agnst, just a little bit tho, but it’s fluff at the end

✨word count: 1.6k

I really like this so I may make it into a little mini series.

_________________________________________🖊

Rhey's heart dropped as she started at Vinnie with wide eyes. He only sighed and ran his hand through this curly hair. Those words that came out of his mouth put her in a bad position, and she didn't know how to react to it. She was scared.

Vinnie was her entire life and the thought of him leaving made her feel some type of way. Anytime she left the country or state to tour, he was always with her. He never missed one tour. It's hard to be away from your significant other for a certain amount of time if you were always around them before. It's like a fish without having water, she couldn't survive. With her being a huge star like Billie and Ariana Grande, it was hard to find a steady foundation in her life when Vinnie wasn't around her.

".....Are you gonna accept it?" She asked quietly after a moment of silence, fiddling with her fingers, something she did when she got sad or anxious. Vinnie shrugged his shoulders.

"If I accept the offer...I have to move. I'm gonna accept it. This is huge for me,"

Rhey's heart stopped, "Are you fucking kidding me Vincent? You weren't gonna take it up with me first?"

"Why would I? I can make decisions like this on my own!"

"Vinnie, I don't want to sound selfish, but your life is here, you can't just leave. I mean what does that mean for us if you end up leaving?" She asked, getting right to the point.

Vinnie knew she was right but it still hurt that she made it seem like she wasn't going to support him during his decision making.

"What do you mean I can't leave? Your my girlfriend not my mom, I expect you to at least be happy for me, but you can't even do that! I made sacrifices for you, do the same for me for once!" He argued, raising his voice in the process.

"What sacrifices have you made for me other than the fact that you moved away from you and your friends old house which is 30 minutes away, to this fucking villa that WE BOTH picked out together! Please let me the fuck know!"

"All those times I've went on tour with you and I had everyone here with the United fucking States! That's one sacrifice! When you were sick so I had to cancel doing a video with James! That's two!"

"NOBODY TOLD YOU TO FUCKING COME WITH ME! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO ASKED! AND LETS NOT FORGET THAT I TOLD YOU NOT TO CANCEL AND YOU DID ANYWAY! THOSE WERE SACRIFICES YOU TOOK!" She screaming, pointing her acryliced index finger at him. He huffed and ran a hand through his hair.

"What's the point of us being together if you aren't gonna compromise. Addison sacrifices for Bryce all the time." He tried explaining, but all it did was make her even more confused.

"Please do not bring up that racist bitch in my household. I'm fine with all of your friends girlfriends EXCEPT her and Dixie and besides, she has the brain capacity of a fucking roach of course she's gonna compromise with him! You joined the Hype House and your mouth been getting real fucking reckless Vincent."

"Well...what are we gonna do then?" He asked quietly. He knew that if he left then it'd be over for him and his girlfriend and that's the last thing he wants but this was a huge thing for him.

Rhey closed her eyes as she tried to calm herself down. Everyone on her team knew how much she hated yelling, voice raising, or anything of that nature. It was in a rare occasion where she yelled or raised her voice angrily.

"I just want you to think about what you're doing. I don't have a home in Paris. Only LA, ATL, and NY. So how do you expect me to always come see you when my career still rapidly on go? How do you possibly expect this to work if you're gonna be living in Paris for the rest of your life—"

"Its not the rest of my life! God Rhey, even if it is the least you can do is be supportive!"

"Then HOW long is it? Do you know how Vogue deals work? Once you sign with the region, you can't permanently leave unless you visiting somewhere else. They need you at all times!"

Vinnie sighed, not knowing what to do. He loved Rhey immensely. She was the love of his life. They've been together for 8 years, and he didn't want all that to gown down the drain. No ever, but he was put between a rock and a hard place where he had to choose between his gf and being an actual model.

"I'm not trying to pry, I swear I'm not but I just want you to think about this. It seems like you really want to do it and if you do then that's fine. I will support you, if you don't then I will continue to support you. Doesn't matter to me, I just don't want you signing your entire life away halfway across the world away from your girlfriend and friends, but do what's best for you. Do whatever you want." She sighed, trying not to get emotional.

Before he could respond to what she said, she grabbed her phone and keys, and left the house in a hurry. He followed her outside and watched as she sped out of the driveway and down the street. Vinnie looked on life360 and saw that she was heading in the direction of the skate park that always went to when they wanted to talk and skate for hours.

He gets that relationships are never easy, and that it'll always be something that may or may not cause a break up. This situation just might make them or break them. He knew that being with your high school sweetheart after high school changes everything, but no one ever told him it was going to be this hard to the point where his heart aches and drops every time someone mentions them breaking up or even taking a break. There's a lot he can take, but to potentially not be with Rhey anymore was a sickening thought that he could erase from his brain.

"Ugh, Rhey why did you have to leave?" He mumbled to himself as he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his car keys. He got in the car and rode to the skate park, seeing her sitting under a tree. He was very surprised to see no paparazzi standing by taking photos and bombarding her.

Getting out the car, he grabbed two blunts and walked over to his girlfriend to sit down beside her. He gave her a blunt and lit it, then lit one for himself. She inhaled the smoke and blew it right back out after sucking it through her nose, dried tears on her face. Despite her high social status, he had never seen her so messed up over something like this.

"Do you wanna break up?" She asked, kind of catching him off guard. Vincent gave her a confused look

"What? God no! Baby you're the love of my life. I can't live without you! " He assured, pulling his girlfriend into his arms as he continued to smoke. It was almost 12 and it was completely dark outside.

"I can get you a deal out here. I've just gotta talk to the director and I can get you a 5 year contract. P-please don't leave me." She stated, her voice cracking at the end.

Vincent sighed, finishing off his blunt and throwing it away. He grabbed his girlfriend by both her cheeks with one hand to make her stare into his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head, making him show a small smile before smashing his lips into hers.

Once they pulled away, Rhey pulled out her phone to show Vinnie something. His eyes squinted at the screen and then widened once he saw what it was.

"You didn't..." He trailed off, his eyes clouded with tears. Rhey smiled through the tears running down her face and nodded her head.

Vinnie was looking at a photo on him on his skateboard, a photo she took of him. She used a picture of him as her album cover and he didn't know whether to cry or fuck her silly. He might end up doing both.

"That's what I wanted to show you when so got home. I finished the album, this may be my most personal album yet because each and every song is about you and our relationship. Guess what my last song is called." She laughed, waiting for him to respond. When he didn't have an answer, she showed him her track list and let him scroll all the way down. When she heard a small gasp, that's when she knew he had found it.

"Vinnie....the name of the song is vinnie."

Rhey smiled, but it didn't last long because Vinnie pushed her onto the ground with kisses, invading her personal space. He put more passion into the kiss as he rubbed her sides in a soothing way before reaching under her shirt to grab both her boobs, making her gasp, letting him indulge deeper into her mouth. He finally pulled away, giving her air to breathe, only to trail kisses down her neck and collar bone, sucking and kicking every crevice that she was sensitive to, not caring that anyone could come behind the large tree and see them.

He attempted to pull one of her boobs out but she quickly stopped him, not wanting to live life on the edge TOO MUCH.

"How about we finish this at home yeah?"

"Fuck yes! Let's go!"

#vinniehacker #vinnie #interracial #black!reader #black reader

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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years

Text

Connor Rhodes x Reader Motherfucking Done

requested prompt: Hey!😊 Could you write an imagine with Connor Rhodes, like the reader is a doctor, and he is jealous of her friendship with Will? Cute ending maybe. Thank you so much

written by: @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, pregnancy complications, this is shit, I’ll probably redo it later, but I’m so tired and stressed, oh and Cornelius Rhodes murdered his wife and no one can tell me otherwise

You and Connor returned to the U.S. as fast as you could. Connor more anxious than you, but then again, he had reason to. Two weeks ago you and your husband were at a party thrown by one of his patients at his penthouse. His massive, over the top, Fast and Furious 7 penthouse. It was three stories with a balcony with a pool. You and Connor always felt out of place at these parties, not even Connor had grown up around such extravagant wealth. But you made do, it was part of doctor-patient culture apparently, so you went. You hadn’t been feeling all that well, nauseous and with a skull-splitting headache. Connor had gotten another email from his sister, so you didn’t want to stress him out more than he already was. You and Connor had mostly stuck to the shade of the indoors, but eventually, you both had to go outside. Connor went to socialize with the host while you went to the third floor to the balcony that hung over the pool. There was a bar there, but you weren’t interested in alcohol. You didn’t think you could stomach it, but you hadn’t been able to stomach anything lately. You’d just sat at a table with a large umbrella and ordered a water.

You’d started feeling dizzy, the heat was suddenly beyond unbearable. You started panting and you knew that stressed out or not, you needed to tell Connor what was going on and leave. Something was very, very wrong. You turned in your seat, waving trying to get his attention. You leaned against the railing while still sitting down and he didn’t notice again. So and flimsy, shaking legs you stood up, clutching the railing. Sweat was pouring down your face and neck, it became so much more difficult to breathe, you were about to try yelling his name over the blaring music when, in a matter of seconds, you felt like you were going to faint, your entire body went limp, and you fell unconscious.

When you woke up you were, not only in a hospital, but the one you worked at. Connor, who was clutching your hand and praying in Hebrew noticed you stirring. “Y/N, sweetheart? Oh thank heavens, how are you feeling?”

“Groggy. What happened?”

“You fell off of the balcony at the top on the penthouse, three stories into the pool. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

“It wasn’t bad when we left for the party, for most of the time we were there even. It was just at the end, I tried to wave at you, but looking back on it I probably should have just gotten one of the waiters to get you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Please don’t be. The, uh, the doctors found out what was wrong though.”

“Really? What? Oh please tell me it’s not cancer, you know I’ve got a family history of that.”

“No, you don’t have cancer. You, uh... You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant? Like with a baby?”

“Yeah, heat just doesn’t agree with some women and pregnancy though, so we need to move.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Yeah, you are... We’re going to be parents.”

“We’re going to be parents.” The dam finally broke and happy tears flooded your face. Connor joined you seconds after, but his tears were a combination of joy and relief, after all, he did watch you fall three stories into a pool.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Will had gone to med school in New York together. You’d been fair acquaintances, but he was a bit too cocky and you were a bit too serious. You both decided to have two specialties, the one you shared was emergency department medicine. You became Facebook friends, but that was about it. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d see him in person again unless there was a reunion. So you were a bit surprised when you ran into him on your way to your OB appointment. “Y/N? It’s been a while, how are you?”

“I’m doing great. Really, really great, actually. I didn’t know that you came back to Chicago, though. When we were in school you always said you’d never come back.”

“Things changed. Congrats, by the way,” Will gestured to your obviously pregnant belly, “how far along are you? How are the symptoms?”

“Five months. Uh, the symptoms have been really bad. And I’m just on my way to an appointment though so I should get going. But maybe we could get dinner sometime, I’d love for my husband to meet you so that he’ll finally believe all the crazy med school stories I have thanks to you. He works here too, actually.” You weren’t kidding, pregnancy had taken a huge toll on you. You had wretched morning sickness, high blood pressure, gestational diabetes, and a pregnancy-related iron deficiency. It was a quick walk from the entrance to the elevator to the OB ward, so you thought you’d be fine, but you were starting to feel weak and Will noticed. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I need to sit down.” Will whipped around and grabbed a wheelchair for you, helping you to get in. “What’s wrong do I need to call your doctor or husband?”

“Honestly, I already feel better, but would you mind taking me to OB or getting someone else who can? This has just been a difficult pregnancy overall, so feeling faint really isn’t unusual for me.”

“Yeah, I’ll take you, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, I’m just gonna text Connor and let him know, he was going to try to meet me there if he can get away from work for a minute.”

“You don’t happen to mean Connor Rhodes, do you?”

“I do, why?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You found out why when Connor burst through the doors just after you and Will had entered. He kissed you on your forehead and gave you a once over. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Connor, I’m okay. I just started feeling weak so Will got me a wheelchair. I think that I was just on my feet too long, well too long while pregnant. I really hate that I can’t do what I used to be able to...”

“I know, but you should have just gotten help at the door, here let’s go talk to Dr. Hajjar. Thanks, Halstead, I’ve got it from here.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Excuse me?”

“Will!”

“You heard me, Rhodes, why didn’t you meet her at the car or entrance? You can’t really think you’re too important to help your pregnant wife.”

“Will that’s not-”

“That’s enough Halstead, you should get back to the ED, where your obnoxious presence is actually required.”

“Okay, that’s more than enough jabs from both of you. Will, thank you for helping me get here after I tried to get here myself when I probably shouldn’t have, Connor, I’m sorry for being so stubborn and I’m glad you had time today to come to another of my appointments which are happening more and more frequently.”

Will and Connor begrudgingly nodded at each other. “Thanks for getting her here safe Halstead.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You decided to hold off on dinner together after seeing how little they got along. Having only realized at that first meeting that the ‘doctor douche’ your husband ranted about so much was your friend from med school. So instead you did what you could to keep the peace whenever you were in the hospital, which was frequent, but their pissing contest was grating on your nerves. It all came to a head the day you went into labour two weeks early. Connor was finishing up a surgery with Dr. Downey so Will was the one in the ED when you were rolled in. “Get Connor, Will.”

“Are you sure Y/N?”

“YES I’M SURE!”

Connor came running into treatment four minutes later and gently kissed you all over your face. “I’m here, Y/N. I love you so much.” Will, who had been holding your hand while you waited for Connor, scoffed.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WILLIAM?! I AM SO OVER THIS SHITTING CONTEST YOU HAVE WITH CONNOR. YOU ARE BOTH GROWN-ASS MEN GET OVER YOURSELVES. YOU ARE BOTH GOING TO APOLOGIZE TO EACH OTHER AND HUG RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I AM MOTHERFUCKING DONE!”

“Y/N-”

“WILLIAM SEAMUS HALSTEAD I KNOW THAT YOUR MOTHER TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN TO INCUR THE WRATH OF A PREGNANT WOMAN!”

“I’m sorry, Will.”

“I’m sorry, Connor.”

“Y/N Y/L/N you are officially my favourite person in the world, I was just about to ring their necks!”

“No problem Maggie.” You gave a weak smile as another contraction hit and Dr. Hajjar looked under the blanket before nodding. “Alright, Y/N, it’s time to push. If you’re not her husband or part of the delivery team; get out.”

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Five days later you were still in the hospital, because of all the complications you’d had during pregnancy. Dr. Hajjar wanted to make sure your blood pressure wasn’t a high average before she discharged you. So when Natalie went into labour, you could hear her screams from down the hall. You’d also been where Will briefly went to hide with his tail in between his legs after Helen, Natalie’s mother in law, dressed him down. When you heard her screaming for Will, where he was, you gave Connor one look before he sighed and called Will.

Connor briefly appeared at his father’s ‘I-want-control-as-much-of-my-son’s-life-as-possible-so-I-donated-money-in-my-wife’s-name-for-mental-health-when-it’s-mostl-likely-that-I-murdered-her’ ceremony. He only went for the speech, and when it was over he approached his sister. “Connor, it’s nice to finally see you. You’ve been back in Chicago how long?”

“Almost four months. I, uh, want you to meet my wife and daughter.”

“You- what? Who? How?”

“Well I personally have absolutely no idea how I got lucky enough to have a baby with my wife Y/N, much less have her love me as much as I love her, but I’ve decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“How old is your daughter?”

“Five days today.”

“Oh my God... When can I-”

“Now. You can meet them now.”

“I’ll get dad-”

“Claire don’t. Please. He’s the reason I left Chicago, you’re the reason I came back. I just don’t want the happiness I feel to end just yet.”

“Okay.” She hooked her arm around his as he led her out to the hall. “Did you really come back for me?”

“Well Y/N couldn’t stand the heat while pregnant, but you’re the reason we came back here and not to Seattle.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were cradling your bundle of joy and poop, Aviva Nadya Rhodes, in the lounge chair when Connor and Claire came in. “Hi, you must be Claire, I’m Y/N.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too. Is it okay if I hold- Aviva?”

“Sure, here just sit down on the loveseat and I’ll pass her to you.”

“Oh, she’s so tiny. And she looks just like you Y/N. Doesn’t look like she got anything from Connor. You sure are a lucky girl, huh?” Claire had Aviva’s head in the crook of her elbow and was giving the infant an unbridled, beaming smile.

”Hey! Stop trying to turn my daughter against me.”

“Connor don’t worry, you’re going to be an amazing dad and she is going to love you so, so much. I can feel it.”

“Y/N’s right, Connor. You’re going to do great, plus I’m only joking, I promise. Aren’t I, my sweet, sweet girl?”

“She loves my daughter more than she loves me.”

“I’d normally say no and try to reassure you, but she does,”

“And that’s not a bad thing.”

“Yeah, exactly. I love you, Connor.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

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Sorry this was so bad, I’ll probably re-do this at some point cause I really like the whole faint-cause-pregnant-move-to-Chicago storyline I came up with.

Again, sorry.

#One Chicago #chicago med #connor rhodes #connor rhodes x reader #will halstead #maggie lockwood #Natalie Manning

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weeklyfangirl · 4 years

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 22

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20, part 21

Hope everyone is keeping themselves mentally/physically well... here’s the next update in your adventure. Please safely read from home ;)

The sun moved slowly up my window, illuminating the dancing dust in the air. Even though I knew dust didn’t have feelings, it all still looked very peaceful, suspended there in space.

I wanted to be suspended, floating, with no obligations or pressures.

Instead, I watched time slip by, slowly, as the shadows stretched along my floor and I lay still, wrapped in a giant Winnie-the-Pooh sheets burrito.

I called in sick the past three days to work and to all my classes, my lack of attendance probably dropping me a letter grade in a few classes. Instead of checking on my academic scholarship, I begged Renny to drop off Dr. Rhinecuff’s papers for me. She did, lamenting about how his office smelled like roast beef and how she probably needed a nose job from it shrivelling up from the stench. Tired, I sent her three hearts, ignoring all of her calls and voicemails.

In a random bout of restless energy, I looked up the University of Oxford in England. No one would know me there. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing when you didn’t even know yourself. I stayed on their site for an hour, avoiding my take-home assignments, and speculating which classes I could take in the spring semester. My eyes grew tired though, and even if I were accepted as a transfer student, it wasn’t like I could ever afford it without scholarships.

I closed the computer.

It’d been cloudy, rainy. The random storm that’d come in from Mexico lasted longer than the usual morning fog that’d roll in and out by the time it was 9 AM. This storm lingered, heavy, full clouds looking to burst and unleash a steady rain for three to four hours before the clouds rested, storing up all they could until the next downpour.

My parents didn’t question me when I came in, used to my random visits. But when I went straight to my room without saying hello, rain-plastered hair covering puffy eyes, my mom basically collapsed at the sight.

She followed me to the bed, trying to see my face, but I buried it in the pillow, ignoring the way the purple fringe tickled my nose.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?”

I just groaned. Her voice was too gentle, too well-intending for the dark thoughts sitting in my mind. She’d be heartbroken if she heard them.

She huffed, not out of annoyance, but distress. “What’s bothering you?? Is it Renny? Did you breakup with Harry?” All those reasons were too simple. She ran her hands lightly along my legs, but I cringed away from her touch. It was something I rarely did. She paused. “You can tell me anything...”

I shook my head against the pillow, my last attempt to tell her to leave without speaking. She waited a moment longer.

“Okay,” she said. And that was it.

Father didn’t ask questions, not even when I was here for the third consecutive day. Mom had probably come to her own conclusions, and shared them with him.

“Mom said you aren’t feeling too well,” he said over cereal one morning, confirming my suspicions. It was the first time he’d broken our three-day spree of comfortable silence.

“What else did she tell you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, his usual buoyant self replaced with a quiet voice. He looked at me, and all I saw was pity. If I were him, I’d probably look at me the same way. I hadn’t showered in a while. “Well don’t let anything get you down. You’re too smart for that.”

He’d tried. He’d put in an effort. I just nodded, scooping up another spoonful of cereal. He followed suit.

And that was that.

A week passed like this.

But overnight, the clouds had blown away, and the sun came back full-force this morning just in time for the weekend, renewing my guilt. That traitor.

I’d cried all of Monday and Tuesday, but when the last tear was shed in the middle of a New Girl episode, I was empty. My tears didn’t leave anything to replace them with.

On Wednesday, a phone alarm reminded me I had a therapy appointment. I hit snooze multiple times. It was only when I got up to pee, and I hated what I saw in the mirror that I threw on an oversized sweater to go over my pajamas and headed out the door.

“Is it good?” I asked.

Her hands reviewed my wants list.

“That’s just a coffee stain on the corner..just...ignore that bit,” I added.

She surveyed it briefly, not really focusing on it. “Were you honest?”

I nodded.

“Then there isn’t good or bad. It’s just your truth.”

“But I still feel… I don’t know. I don’t think I know what that is. I don’t feel like I’m… progressing. Doing anything towards that,” I said.

She looked at me with a level gaze. “Then that’s your truth. And that’s okay for right now.”

I shot her a glance.

“I see a common struggle with people your age. They feel this….” -She adjusted, quirking her head- “immense pressure to be perfect, to figure it all out, to achieve success so early.”

“Everyone’s doing it,” I began. “They’re getting internships, keeping up their grades, involved in ten clubs, doing community service…” I could’ve droned on, but didn’t.

“You have an internship, your grades are good, you’ve joined a sorority, and up until recently you’ve been involved in tutoring. Those are extracurriculars.”

I couldn’t argue with her.

“Is it too much?” she asked.

Too much. It was everything I’d been feeling until I’d felt nothing. But hearing her list off what was waiting for me just beyond her doors made me feel the weight of it all over again.

“I’ve just been overwhelmed.”

“Who have you been thinking about?”

She noticed I started picking my hangnail.

She started gently, knowingly. “Has it been Harry?”

“Ow,” I cursed. A bit of blood prickled up where the hangnail used to be.

“He seems to be a major stressor in your life. Would you agree?” The clock ticked behind her, filling the silence. Her hands rested in her lap, while mine swiped away the bit of blood. I could never remember my therapist’s name, but somehow it wasn’t important.

“Yeah, but … I mean …. there’s a lot of stressors.”

“Like his friends?”

His friends, in the abbreviated story I’d told her, stood in place for the gang. I’d used terms like … intimidating, mean, basically painting them as bullies who didn’t like us together. I wasn’t expecting to get much therapy from a lie. “Out of curiosity, if I were to tell you something… would you be obligated to report it to the police?”

“Not necessarily.” Her legs crossed, creased brows zeroing in with a laser focus. “Has something happened to you, Y/N?”

I swallowed hard, the truth lodged in my throat. But I had gotten too used to the weight of the secret. “I was just curious…” My mind raced to change the subject, and I blurted about Zayn’s art show.

“Do you think this panic attack was induced by this heightened sense of scrutiny from Harry’s friends?”

“Probably.”

“You said there were others. What are your main stressors?’

I settled in, more comfortable with this question. “There’s financial stressors, for one. And it’s exasperated here.”

“You’ve been dealing with financial difficulties for a while, now. Have you been feeling this anxious the entire time, or has it been recent?”

My foot tapped impatiently. We both knew the answer.

“Your panic attack was a first,” she explained, gently. “Some new factor in your life pushed you there.”

I picked at the hangnail, wincing. It was gone. My skin was raw.

“Maybe it all links back to Harry.” She waited a moment to see if I’d speak. When I didn’t, she leant back, and pulled out a new sheet of paper, scribbling something down. “I want you to write a pros and cons list about your relationship with him, for next time. When your feelings are overwhelming, it helps to get everything on paper. In a list. Puts things in perspective.”

I drove home, her words had pushed themselves into my empty shell and now they clinked around, jostling up my insides like a pinball machine and giving me a headache.

Just because I hadn’t left the house all week didn’t mean I didn’t feel guilty for ditching work. God, I did. It killed me. I knew I was lucky to get that internship. Harry had mentioned how people killed just to get on the waitlist, and I didn’t doubt it. An OC internship with, if not the top, at least the most publicized private practice? I mean, I was typing in appointments next to a Southern Stanford grad if that speaks to the competition here.

And here I was, retreating back to my house, too drained to face the world.

As for Harry, after what I’d said to him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want to talk to me ever again.

I’d been so cruel.

I was weak.

I felt guilty for feeling this way at all.

And then I would watch the dust again.

It was a cycle.

About three blocks from my house on my way back from the therapist session, a familiar car passed me. It happened suddenly, unexpectedly, like most things do. We made eye contact before he passed, and my foot instantly lifted off the gas when my eyes connected with my brain. I whipped my head around but the matte black maserati sped up, disappearing from sight.

What was Harry doing this far from campus?

My heart beat erratically as I pulled into the driveway, and it was only seconds before I made it into the house. Father held up a hand in Grandpa’s old room. Phone call. Trudging silently to my own, I wrapped myself in a blanket burrito.

I’d been avoiding my phone, but I caved this time, checking J’s social media to see if he’d posted anything about being in the area to prove I WASN’T crazy and DIDN’T just hallucinate. Nothing. I tossed my phone on the other side of the room before I spiralled.

It didn’t matter. I was in my room. Alone. Safe. I focused on the dust.

Two little knocks disrupted my exciting mind game - which dust particle would fall further than the other.

“You’re turning ripe,” Father noted. His briefcase was still in his hand and he was coming startlingly close to my depression burrito.

“What are you doing-!?” I protested. But it was too late. He ripped the sheets off, exposing me in the t-shirt I’d been in since Monday. “Your mood won’t change if you don’t make an effort.

Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’re coming to the water with me.” He hesitated at the door. “Shower first.”

In the car, a sense of comfort washed over me. He’d been right. Clean wet hair smelled nice and felt good slicked around my head. Even if Mom would complain I’d “catch cold,” it felt good to feel something. Dad’s speakers switched between classic rock and reggaeton as I sipped on the chocolate shake we picked up from the Shake Shack. It was a short drive away to the harbor, and once parked, a shorter walk to the public docks.

Our feet dangled above the water. It was too cold to go swimming this time of year, but my body buzzed with yearning despite the goosebumps on my skin. I wanted to feel encompassed by salty water. I wanted to be submerged, where everything was muted, a barrier between me and the world. Between my wet hair and the icy shake, I could pretend my body was as cool as the water below me. I could just…. dissolve.

“So what’s going on?” he opened up the conversation. “You having a hard time at school?”

“I don’t like the sorority.”

His brows raised, not expecting me to be so honest so soon. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, don’t you hate that shit?”

I looked at him, almost shocked he’d agreed with me.

The boats squeaked as they rocked with the rolling tides coming in from the ocean. I watched as a duffy boat wandered to the end of the jetty - where the harbor opened to the ocean. I took another big gulp of my shake, feeling the cold run down, freezing my esophagus.

“I liked frats, but sororities are different,” he mumbled, spooning his shake into his mouth. He’d gotten his usual Neapolitan, and it’d somehow stayed solid on the drive over. We hadn’t been to the Shake Shack in years, but I guess seeing his daughter waste away beneath her comforter was enough to break the dry spell.

“Why? Because its girls?” My lips were breaking into a smile without my consent. He didn’t make sense.

“They’re more catty.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Dad! That’s verging on sexist.”

“Eh, I don’t know. I’m just saying things. Did you tell Mom you want to quit?”

I shook my head.

“Yeah…” he looked out at the boats, a quiet understanding passing between us. “She was really excited for you to join.”

“It’s not all bad…”

“Well if it’s not making you happy, don’t do it. Your mom doesn’t want you doing anything you don’t want to do. I was in a frat to shoot the shit with friends and it was something fun to do instead of study. If it’s not something fun for you, drop it.”

I could hear the words he was telling me, but it was like they were rolling off my shoulders, not really penetrating. He made it sound so easy, but it seemed like it was a million times harder than that. Everything was entangled, just as Harry had said. Not to mention Renny. If I quit, I felt like I’d lose her forever, too. I knew I could use a better friend, but that couldn’t erase the years of memories we had together. Losing Renny would feel like losing a part of myself. Not that I knew who that was anymore.

“Dad?” I asked. The question that'd weighed on my mind ever since I got home rested on the tip of my tongue.

“Yeah?”

“This is going to sound weird, but did you see Harry today?”

“Yeah. He stopped by,” he said, casually, spooning another mouthful.

I practically choked. “What? Why?! Weren’t you going to tell me?”

“Y/N, I’m working. I have a thousand things bouncing around in my head all the time.”

“And?!!?”

Harry couldn’t reach out to me beforehand? He drove by but- what? Didn’t even want to see me?

He sighed, not understanding the urgency. “He just stopped by, said hi. That’s all.”

My brows stitched. “Why would he say hi to you? What’d he say, exactly?”

“Oh, come on, I don’t know. I can’t remember-”

“Dad!”

“All right, all right. Hi, how are you…” -his brain tried to remember- “he asked if you were doing okay. Then he left. He was nearby for a family brunch or something.”

“He asked about me?”

“Yeah. I mean, he didn’t go on and on, he just asked a question. He was in a rush.”

The shake froze me from the inside, and the breeze froze me from the out. But while I shriveled into myself, my guilt grew. “Dad?”

He hummed.

“Why are people so fake?”

He looked out at the harbor, peaceful for a winter’s morning. Only one small fishing boat headed towards the harbor’s edge, the sole fisherman at the helm facing the wind with the grace of a husband dealing with a temperamental spouse.

Father looked to our shoes as a random swell came, the water rising perilously close to our soles. Then, with all the untapped wisdom I seldom remembered parents had, “People are fake because they don’t know who they are,” he said.

He got a call from the restaurant and drove us home.

In bed the next day, I ignored the pros/cons assignment, watching New Girl and making collages of Oxford in a word document until my eyes were burning from blue light exposure. I knew I was pushing it staying this long away from school, away from my problems. I was pushing myself, seeing how far my apathy could go. I woke up Thursday night at 2 AM from the rain pouring against my shutter and anger pricking my insides.

Harry was the reason I was in this position. As well as Viv, who fucked Harry. And Kiki, who gave me a DG Pretty Please, that just so happened to involve Harry.

I wanted him, but I wanted him to fuck off. Nothing was changing. Nothing was getting better.

It was all Harry, Harry, Harry, and no matter what, I ended up feeling insane.

At one point, I was going to have to choose myself.

I rolled over, blindly reaching for a pen, and scribbled in the dark.

If my therapist wanted a list, she’d get one helluva list.

-----------

“I’m glad you’re going, honey.” Mom released me from the lung-crushing hug.

I’d created enough Oxford collages and daydreamed about a new life until I couldn’t think of any other imaginary scenarios (or postpone collegiate life any longer).

The Friday sun had set. The game had already started. I thought about the crowd, all the people I’d see…

“Can I just stay the weekend?”

“Oh.” Her arms dropped from my sides. “Didn’t you promise your friends that you’d go?”

Renny. I’d promised Renny. Singular friend. My hand was in a fist, thumb rubbing anxiously over my fingers. I didn’t listen to her voicemails, there were seven of them. But she’d texted me fifty times in the past twenty minutes, declaring that she’d Venmo me gas money if I’d come to the game.

I’d been in my hole long enough.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, you COULD stay-”

I broke away, shaking my head. If I let her coddle me another minute, I think I’d crumble all over again.

“I love you,” she reminded me. “You’re my precious angel.”

From the living room, the muffled applause from the game show Father had fallen asleep to faded further as I left.

Momma’s robe-bundled frame waved on the driveway, her sad smile burning in my mind long after she disappeared from view.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Come on, come on, come ON.

The path to the stadium took forever. No shame, I was full-on running, braless, fresh pit-stains on display as I booked it to the gate.

It was completely dark now, and the usual fleet of cop cars seemed to have all but disappeared the week I’d been gone. Only one passed me by, and the rest of the student body probably all congregated around the stadium.

When I saw the art studio, I slowed. It was completely dark, except for one entry light. The paintings would still be displayed... My pounding heart told me to keep running, and I hesitated, listening to it for a moment before walking to the door. I tugged on its metal handles, parts of me seizing up as it opened, giving way to my touch.

I crept into the space, feeling like an intruder as I walked through the exhibit.

For some reason, I expected it to look differently, to see it blurred together as I’d seen it before in a panic.

I was still hanging amidst the vines, but this time the paintings looked less threatening. Maybe it was the fact that I was alone, maybe it was because I’d already felt the worst of it.

Each piece was sold.

I looked over my shoulder a couple times before letting out a small shout. A tester.

It echoed in the space.

I did it again, louder, at my full about-to-be-murdered capacity.

I must’ve looked absolutely mental, but as I heard my shout reverberate around me, at least I felt something.

Five charcoal sketches in particular ran horizontally together.

Lust / Longing / Love / Lost / Loss

Had he seen all of this in me? He’d certainly seen other bits I hadn’t shown him.

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out. Renny. Without thought, I started her stream of voicemails.

Y/N where the FUCK are you!? Zayn’s concerned and I’m concerned and you’re not in the room-

Next.

Are you really sick? Or is this just some BS excuse. Or is this real and Harry gave you tonsilitis or something. I want to hear your voice. Ilyyyyy.

Next.

It’s meeeeee. Niall’s busy and you’re sick and I don’t know what to dooooo. Housewives isn’t as fun without-

Next.

BABE WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME CALLS DO YOU HATE ME, AND YES I MEANT TO SAY ME INSTEAD OF MY I HOPE YOU’RE LAUGHING-

Next.

DUDE. You will not believe what just happened- Harry just stopped by.

My thumb paused, letting it stay.

I was avoiding his texts because I think he’s a dick. Well, he IS a dick, even if Niall said he was going through a lot. It’s still not an excuse. But Harry LEGIT found me on campus, like not even when I was with Niall at the house, but at our APARTMENT...I-hold on. Ew, pastrami professor just passed me. What are the odds? OKAY BUT SERIOUSLY, I almost punched him when I opened the door because remember last time he basically told me off. But… I don’t know. It was different this time. He seemed… so concerned. Frazzled. I don’t even know the word to describe it. Ugh, if you were here you would be able to TELL ME what the word is. I miss you. Come back.

The voicemail rolled into the next.

I’m just pretending to talk on the phone right now because the boy I hooked up with last year is staring me THE FUCK down right now-

A creak in the pipes startled me, and the voicemail was all but forgotten.

My heart beat fast.

It was very, very quiet.

With one noise in the dark, the art pieces turned menacing. An oil painting in the corner of the room morphed into the Styles’ portrait. It wasn’t here. It couldn’t be here. I squinted, blinking through the dark. The portrait I thought I’d seen was just a painting of two silhouetted men facing each other. My heart still beat like I’d just ran a marathon though. I wasn’t about to be a part of the next horror movie “art comes alive.”

I booked it out faster than I came, answering Renny’s call on the way.

---------

“Thank fucking finally,” Renny huffed, leaning over Lynn to draw me in a hug.

“You didn’t miss much,” Lynn said, looking past me towards the game. I sat on Renny’s other side so she was in the middle, but when I looked at the scoreboard - Home, zero. Guest, two - I knew it was a done deal. Some people had already left, but half the stadium was still here, either hoping for a miraculous recovery or refusing to put their tails between their legs for pride’s sake. I noticed a group of parents in Chapman gear huddled together, waving their flags. No Mary or Lionel Styles in sight.

“How’s he been?” I asked. It’s like my head already knew where to turn, because as soon as I looked to the field, I found him. On the bench, elbows on his knees, head bent over.

“How’ve YOU been?” Renny asked. “I was seriously about to drive over to your house and check on you.”

Someone beat you to it. The thought was sour. For as much as Renny could claim her undying love for me, I was struggling to see the actions to support it. Everyone was disappointing.

“He’s been playing like shit,” Lynn answered.

“Brought back some...” His sentence died. Of all people, Zayn stood there, stopped, popcorn in hand. “Hey, Y/N.”

Felix stood behind Zayn, giving me a small wave. Zayn was clearly waiting for me to make the first move, but I turned away to the field. I didn’t know what to say.

From my peripheral, I saw them sit down by Lynn.

As soon as he did, it hit me like a flashfood. I knew what I was feeling. Anger. Discomfort. Shame. That he could expose me so easily, that he’d looked through my clothes in a way I never permitted. That he could sit down so comfortably without apologizing, as if nothing had happened.

Renny leaned in. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

She flinched at the abrupt answer. “Do you want to leave?”

I stopped myself from saying yes. I didn’t want to have to climb over Zayn to get out of here. That would be more than uncomfortable.

“No, I’ll tell you later.”

I didn’t speak the rest of the game, pretending not to hear him cheer or laugh or make a snide remark to Felix every other second. Like the annoying click of a fan when you’re trying to fall asleep, Zayn’s every move made anger shake my bones. Lynn gave me sympathy looks every once in a while. It wasn’t like me to be this quiet, and even with our friendship being as new as it was, she knew that much.

The crowd didn’t roar this time. They were silent as the clock hit zero, staring blatantly at its twin beneath Home. The Guest team’s few Minnesota supporters jumped like little beans on the other side of the field, but their cries were faint.

We’d lost.

Everyone stood, and Renny linked her arm with mine. A familiar habit. “We’re going to Viv’s for some post-game depression drinks now.”

But I stopped her.

“I think I want to go back to the room,” I winced.

“Come on, PLEASE? It’ll be fun, you were barely here for the game.”

“I don’t know, depression and Viv in the same sentence… You really know how to sell a party.”

“Aren’t you coming, Y/N?” Lynn made moves to follow the rest of the crowd that was funneling out of the stands.

I shook my head at the same time Renny nodded hers.

She huffed. “Why not? It’s going to be chill. We lost. It’s not going to be like the usual ragers.” She popped her hip, completely deadpanned. “You haven’t seen another college-aged person in a week.”

“Yeah and there’s a reason for that.”

Concern washed over her, voice lowering. “Tell me.”

As if on cue, Zayn and Felix stopped their descent down the bleachers and looked up at the girls, waiting for them to join. It was all I could do to not scream at them.

“Later,” I said. “You’re leaving now.”

“I don’t have to leave right now, it’s not starting yet...” Renny began, but Lynn gave her a look that said yes, they were leaving now.

“She wants us to help set-up,” Lynn explained.

“But it’s a small thing, right?” I teased Renny.

My bestie rolled her eyes, lips pinching. “Are you SURE?”

I nodded, sitting down on the cool metal bleacher again. Renny took a step towards me, a sad look on her face, but I held up my hand.

“I’m fine,” I said, when I felt anything but. “I just want to wait until the crowd leaves.” I picked up the popcorn bag she’d left behind and threw a handful in my mouth with a cheesy, hopefully convincing grin.

She grimaced, briefly looking back to Lynn who was anxiously waiting. “Fine. But we’re still talking about this later. I friggin miss you.”

She left with the others, funneling out towards a party she’d probably stay at until the early morning.

I didn’t want to go back to the room. I didn’t want to go anywhere.

The lights were so bright on soccer fields. Bugs flew in and around, racing each other faster than the dust in my room. It wasn’t until the janitors walked past me that I realized I’d been sitting there for too long. I reached in the popcorn bag, but my hand came up empty. They’d gone overboard on the salty butter, but somehow, I’d still managed to eat all of it.

Even with everyone off the field though, I didn’t feel alone. An older Hispanic woman taking out the trash saw me walking down and opened up the bag.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling.

She just smiled in return, nodding her head as she continued down the aisle.

Leaving the field’s gates, I was prepping for another mini run-for-my-life-and-back-to-the-dorm anxiety episode, when I heard someone shuffling. There were faint groaning noises, and I sped up my pace.

For a flash second, I thought someone was winning the “sleep in the locker room” bet, but when I tossed my head-back mid-run, I stopped so quickly, I almost tripped.

“Harry?”

There, in the dark, barely concealed by the shadows, he stumbled out. His abdomen looked… glossy? But then the light reflected crimson.

I ran to him as he fell, his white jersey stained with blood. “Oh my God, oh my God…” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “What happened?! Are you okay!?”

He pushed me back. “M’fine.” But his voice was strained. He stumbled again, and I reached out before he fell.

I thought the blood from his shirt had fallen from a bloody nose, but his hand moved to my arm in a vice-like grip, revealing a gash in his jersey, I saw more liquid pool out from his gut and I almost gagged.

“You are BEYOND fine. You aren’t fucking fine!!”

“We have to leave. Have to… get out of here.” He grimaced. His face, his beautifully chiselled face was swollen on one side, his lip cut from impact.

“Okay. OKAY. I need to call the cops. The cops. I’m going to call them.” Shaky hands took out the cellphone, but he threw it down. “HARRY!”

“Take me to the physical therapy room?”

I looked at his chest. “You’re bleeding. A LOT.” My free arm reached for the tossed phone, but he tugged me back.

“No. They’ll write a report. I can’t have a-” he winced, sucking in a breath, and I reached for the phone again. “DON’T. Fucking hell. Don’t call anyone.”

My eyes racked his frame again, and I immediately applied pressure to his ab area, right where the gash was. He sucked in a breath, unleashing a string of curses I couldn’t hear right now. “Oh my God,” I breathed.

“Answer me,” he growled.

My mind scrambled for his question… he wanted me to take him to the physical therapy room. “YES! Yes. I have the- fuck, yes, I know where the keys are.” I looked at him again. What the FUCK.

“Stop freaking out,” he grunted, but he weakened the next second, his eyes fluttering before coming back to me.

“Okay, hold on. Hold onto me. Keep applying pressure.”

The physical therapy room wasn’t too far, bits of blood that’d fallen to his shoes marking our path.

“Why aren’t all the cops here?”

“They’re on rotation. The parties... they’llbestationedthere-JESUS.” We paused, letting him catch his breath. But it was shallow. Too shallow.

“Can you wait here for a second?” I asked.

He nodded, resting against a lamp post.

I hurried to the lockbox located behind the planter, punching in the code and unlocking it at lightning’s speed.

I didn’t know if there were cameras. I didn’t know if this was illegal.

I didn’t care.

We made it through the doors, and he was just about to sit on the table when-

“WAIT!” I ran to grab several rags and laid it beneath him before heaving him up. The soft cry he made when sitting down was like a knife through my own chest.

I grabbed scissors, cutting his t-shirt. I didn’t have time to linger, I didn’t have time to notice the way his tattoos were completely concealed by a red current. There were two wounds. One, deeper, the other, more shallow. Both in the lower left abdomen, just above a prominent v-line.

I wiped around the area, pausing above the gashes. “This is going to sting,” I warned.

There wasn’t fear in his eyes. He watched me, and I, him, as I pressed it against the open skin. He trembled, wincing, mouth opening in silent exclamation.

“You’re doing good,” I whispered.

“So are you,” he gritted out.

I swallowed, reaching for the butterfly bandages. But as soon as I did, more blood rushed out. I held a rag to him. “Save your breath. You need it.”

The thin white bandages seemed too little in the wake of his wound, and just as one bandage was placed, he cringed away, regretting his decision to move almost immediately.

“Fucking hurts,” he groaned.

“Stop moving! I need to close the wound up. You’re bleeding too much.”

“Y/N, just take me home. Call Lionel,” he panted.

“I’m calling 911 if you don’t let me at least attempt to close this wound because if we leave now you’ll bleed out.”

“You’ve done enough, please-”

“STOP. TALKING. I’ll call him after.” He saw a flame behind my eyes, and quieted, too weak to protest much more anyway. I came closer, and this time he didn’t flinch. The butterfly bandages at least minimally shrunk the open gouges.

With no other choice, I left him there alone, running across campus to my car and driving back in less than five minutes. It was illegal to drive through student walkways, let alone drive 60 mph, but there wasn’t a choice. I kept picturing Harry passing out, his limp God-like body, turned mortal, weak, bleeding out all over the training room floor. My foot hit the gas pedal harder. I could’ve been a damn marathon winner/race car driver. Let the cops add “speeding” to the file they already had on me.

Once we were both in the car, I looked over at him every two seconds. An entire roll of tight gauze around his abdomen kept the wound from bleeding out, but it was still turning pink. It was the second time blood would have been on my car.

Of all the revenge daydreams I’d had, I would’ve settled for Harry seeing me make out with Andre on the dancefloor over THIS. Would he die in my car? Would I be responsible?? I looked at the cheesy Angel pin my mom had given me for my car mirror. Never Fly Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly. Where was my angel now??

“Where are we going?” He asked, between fading in and out.

“To your house.”

His hand grabbed mine on the wheel and I practically swerved into the center divider from shock.

“HARRY!”

“We need to go to my house,” he said suddenly, panicked, as if I’d told him the opposite.

I placed our interlocked hands above the console. A safe distance away from the wheel in case he lurched again.

“Don’t worry, we’re going there. We’re going to your house. You’re just in shock, it’s okay,” I cooed, but it was desperate. And it was definitely not okay.

“They’ll ask… less..less questions...”

His grip was unbearably tight for three long seconds before it relaxed.

“Stay with me. Stay awake,” I urged. Harry’s lids kept drooping and I was desperate, blasting the Air Conditioning to an uncomfortable temperature.

Lionel picked up on the second ring.

“It’s Y/N. I think Harry’s been stabbed-”

“What?!”

“- I told him we should call the cops, but he was adamant we call you instead.”

“Seal the wound with whatever you can-”

“I did that. Not well, we didn’t have wound sealant- Okay, I’m rambling. I don’t know what to do, but he needs to see a doctor. Immediately.”

There was a long pause.

“Hello?” my voice wavered.

“Bring him to the practice.” The voice over the other line was that of a doctor, matter-of-fact, somber.

Hoag Hospital passed me, a nagging thought telling me that’s where we should be going - where there was paperwork, evidence, some legitimate accountability. But I wasn’t his father. I wasn’t responsible.

“On my way. I’m getting off the freeway now.”

The call ended, and as I looked at Harry, fading dangerously out of consciousness, my hands trembled more from fear than cold. Out of all the reactions, I hadn’t expected this one. The voice on the other line hadn’t seemed surprised at all.

come talk to me about the chappie or just about how you’re doing! now’s the time to stay connected :)

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starrybethany · 4 years

Text

Maybe Someday - Matthew Tkachuk Imagine Part 2

Part 1

Word count: 3.4K

She steps up to the plate, nervously brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. She’s never nervous- she’s the most confident little girl I’ve ever met. The only time I’ve ever seen her anxious is on the field.

The pitcher throws the ball. It lands in the box on the side of the plate, Naomi standing still like she’s been taught when the throw is a ball. The tiny boy beside me grips my hand tighter and I squeeze it in response, not moving my eyes from my daughter.

The pitcher throws the ball again. I watch as Naomi swings the bat with sturdiness, hitting the ball and knocking it into left field.

“Run, Naomi,” Wyatt cheers like I’ve taught him to do. Her small legs carry her to first base, and she pants when she stops at the base. Her eyes slide over to meet mine and I shoot her a thumbs up.

She smiles. The game continues and soon enough she makes it back to home base, giving her team another point.

“You did so good, honey,” I pull her into a tight hug when the game is over. “I’m proud of you.”

“You tell me that all of the time, mommy.” I already know she’s blushing, so I pull out of the embrace, not wanting to embarrass her in front of all of her friends.

“Good job Mimi,” Wyatt pulls his sister into a hug and I fight back the squeal that wants to escape at their sibling love. She reluctantly hugs him back. I know that she just wants to appear cool in front of her friends, but I can also tell she wants to give all of the love in the world to her little brother at the same time.

“Why don’t you go talk to your friends, Naomi? I just need to talk to your coach about next week’s game and then we can go grab ice cream,” I request, picking up a tired Wyatt and pulling him into my arms. She nods, running off towards her friends as I walk over to her coach.

“So as you all know we’ve recently been hired to renovate Scotiabank Saddledome and we wanted to let everyone know that we decided to let Y/N take the lead on this project,” my boss, Andy, informs the office.

Everyone claps and I smile shyly at the response, my heart practically beating out of my chest. I’m not just worried because of all of this attention on me, but also because of what comes along with this project.

Along with making everything perfect for the owners, fans, players, employees, and sponsors that work at the arena, both by making the place look nice and pleasing to the eye and sure that the workers and plans are moving along smoothly, I need to worry about Matthew.

I haven’t talked to Matthew in eight years. The last time that I saw him was the time I left him at the café, whispers the only parting remarks to each other.

Throughout my six-year long relationship with Curtis, I didn’t think about Matt much. I thought about him in the beginning. I checked his game calendar a lot and snuck into the bathroom on date nights to watch games, but that slowly faded as I got more and more immersed by Curtis.

Then Naomi came and I gave her all of my love and attention. Wyatt followed a couple of years after that and along with the bliss of a new child, I suffered heartbreak as Curtis and I ended our relationship.

On my first night alone in several years all I could think about was Matthew. Curly hair, hazel eyes, crooked grin and all.

I follow the Flames on Instagram now and I always make sure to watch the clips of his goals.

But I’ve made sure to stay away from contacting him or getting involved in his private life. For all I know, he could have a wife and a kid by now.

Now I have to think about what will happen the first time I see him again in almost a decade. Will he have missed me, or will he be just as disgusted as he was the day that he left? Matthew was such a spontaneous person- except for when it came to watching TV shows, it was always The Office- so I’m unsure of what it will be. I need to hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

I zone back into the meeting, trying my best to focus as my boss shares some more information about this project and some other projects. Work comes second in my life, close behind my children, so I need to worry more about this project than I am about my old lover.

I drop Wyatt off at daycare, gripping the steering wheel of my car tighter than I usually do as I drive over to Scotiabank Saddledome. Today is my first day working on this project to renovate the arena so I should just be working with the owners and staff members, but I assume that I might run into some players seeing as it’s March and I saw on the schedule that they have a home game tonight.

I walk into the building, immediately noticing the woman who looks to be a little bit older than me standing in the lobby on her phone.

“Y/N?” She inquires when she sees me. I nod and she smiles, stretching out her hand. “I’m Kelsea Rochester, the owner of the Saddledome. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, thank you for the opportunity to renovate this amazing building,” I tell her, making sure to smile. Ever since I went on a big self-improvement kick after Matthew and I broke up, I’ve been careful to make sure I have good first impressions.

She explains what she wants done as we walk throughout the building and I write it down on my notebook, asking questions about what she would like or prefer more once in a while. We head down to the locker room area and my heart beats faster as I see a player in a Flames jersey.

“I’m sorry, practice just ended so we’ll be running into a bunch of sweaty hockey players,” she jokes.

I laugh at that but nervously look towards the locker room doors, unsure of who will walk out and recognize me. I know a few of the players Matt and I used to spend time with were traded, but some are still around and might recognize me. I don’t expect them to- it’s been a long time, but I kind of expect Matt to considering we used to spend practically every day together.

She details her plans to me more and I forget about my anxiety, visualizing her vision myself and suggesting what I think would look nice or work better for the arena. I love my job; interior design is something that I’ve always loved to do but not something I really considered doing until I was in school and setting up Naomi’s nursery.

“If you excuse me, I just have to run to the ladies’ room,” she informs me. I nod and she walks off, leaving me to look over my notes.

There’s a commotion by the locker room doors so I look up. All of the blood rushes through my veins and I stay frozen in place as I immediately recognize the figure making the ruckus. As usual, it’s Matt. He always had to be in the middle of something.

Like he could feel my eyes on him, he looks over in my direction. It brings me back to all of the times we would go to the bar or to a club together with a few of his teammates and their partners. He would stay at the bar top or table and talk and I would go onto the dance floor or play pool with the girls. Throughout the night we would make eye contact with each other, just to check in with one another. It was a little way to let the other know that we loved them.

He still hasn’t changed a bit. Curly, dirty blonde locks that I would attempt to brush, a toothy smile that lights up my world, and a laugh that would instantly be followed by my giggles.

He stops pushing one of the rookies, an expression of disbelief on his face as we maintain eye contact.

“Y/N,” he murmurs. The rookie stops pushing him back, and I can feel his eyes on me as well but all I can focus on is Matt. I don’t want to move my eyes from him. I don’t want to lose him again.

I smile shyly, still unconfident in his response to seeing me. “Hi, Matt.”

He takes a step closer to me, hesitantly, like he’s afraid of getting too close. I don’t know if it’s because of what I did to him years ago or if it’s because he’s feeling like I am, like he’s afraid this isn’t real and he’ll lose me again.

“What are you doing here?” He questions softly.

“I’m working as an interior designer now. I’m here to renovate this place,” I explain, motioning around us. He doesn’t move his eyes to take in what I’m explaining, instead keeping them on me.

“Your hair is short now,” he notes gently.

“Yeah, it’s, um, easier to manage.”

“It looks nice.”

I smile softly at him and he smiles back. Some wrinkles have formed around his eyes with age, and he looks bulkier and broader in person than he does in the photos on social media, but it’s just like the Matt that used to take me on dinner dates to Panera.

Kelsea appears by my side again. “I see you met our Flames captain, Matthew Tkachuk. Matt, this is Y/N, the interior designer. She’ll be around for probably the next year until the renovation is expected to end.”

“The next year,” he echoes.

“Yep, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me,” I state, gauging his reaction.

The wide grin that forms on his face gives me his answer that he’s more than okay with that.

“Mommy?” Her tiny voice pierces the silence of the dark room. I stop myself from closing the door, surprised that she’s still awake. I thought she fell asleep twenty minutes ago, that’s why I came in to tuck her in and turn off her sound machine.

“Yes, honey?” I inquire quietly.

“Did you know that the last time the Cubs won the World Series was in 2016?”

I chuckle at that. “I didn’t know that, thank you for letting me know.”

“That was like ten billion years ago!” She exclaims.

Well, it wasn’t that long ago. 2016 was also the year that Matthew was drafted. He would tell me stories about draft day, from what his dad said to him to looking at the responses on social media.

“It’s time to get to bed, Naomi.” I slip back into her room, turning the sound machine back on and soothing down my daughter’s messy hair. Her blue eyes blink up at me as she watches me. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, mama. I love you.”

My heart swells at her words and I lean down to kiss her forehead. “I love you too, munchkin.”

I head into Wyatt’s room next, hoping that he’s already asleep. Just my luck, he’s sitting up in bed, stuffed bunny in his hands as he tugs at the ears. When he notices me in the doorway he lays down and closes his eyes, pretending to be asleep.

I roll my eyes but can’t fight the smile growing on my face, stepping closer to his bed. “I know you’re awake, Wyatt.”

He opens his eyes and pouts up at me. “I can’t sleep here, mommy. I want to sleep with you in your bed.”

He reaches out, grasping my arm and holding on tightly. “Can you please try to sleep in your bed?”

“No,” he whines loudly. I shush him, afraid that if he whines too loud, he’ll prevent Naomi from sleeping in the next room over.

“Why don’t I lay with you for a bit,” I suggest.

“No, I wanna sleep in your bed,” he repeats, big tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

“Just for tonight, okay?” I say like I’ve been doing for the past two nights. I know he’s at the age where it’s vital for him to be in his own bed to help with his growth and separation anxiety, but I can’t help but to take him to my room sometimes.

It’s nice to have someone to cuddle with, and it’s my baby. Someday he won’t want to cuddle or spend time with me so I have to cherish the time I have with him now.

He nods and I carry him into my room, laying down on my bed and pulling him into an embrace. Naomi wasn’t big on snuggling when she was little and she still isn’t, so I take advantage of my one child who wants me to hold on tight to him as hard as I can.

And I’m going to do it, too. It definitely beats being alone.

Another weekend alone. Pretty soon into my relationship with Curtis and my journey to self-improvement my friends began to encourage me to cheat on Curtis as well. Something about how he was trying to change me, he didn’t really like me for me- I don’t know, I honestly don’t really care.

I cut them off after that. I haven’t really made a lot of friends since then. In college I was pregnant, and then taking care of my daughter, so I wasn’t really interested in spending time making friends. Now that I have a full-time job, if I’m not working I’m bonding with my children.

But then three years ago Curtis and I ended our relationship and now, every other weekend I’m alone, waiting for Sunday night to come so I can focus on my children again.

“Mommy!” The front door opens, and a tiny blonde comes storming into the house, barreling into my open arms.

“Hi honey, how was your weekend with daddy?” I inquire, kneeling down to her level to pull her into my hold better.

“It was fun, we went to the park and daddy pushed me and Wyatt on the swing set,” she gushes. “Then he took us out for ice cream!”

I can’t help but feel my heart tighten at her words. I love that the kids are getting to spend time with their father, but I miss them when they’re with their dad. I also can’t help but to think of the moments we would have as a family if Curtis and I hadn’t ended things.

I’m about to respond when Wyatt comes running through the door, joining our hug.

“Mom, dad told me that I can start taking hockey lessons,” he informs me excitedly.

I snap my head up to stare at a sheepish Curtis standing in the doorway, Wyatt’s backpack in one hand and Naomi’s backpack in the other.

“Did he now?” I ask. Wyatt nods enthusiastically, reaching over to leave a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “Why don’t you two go put your backpacks in your room.”

They nod and I watch as they grab their stuff from their father, rushing up the stairs towards their rooms.

“You told him that he could take hockey lessons? Without consulting me?” I question, taking a step closer to him and lowering my voice. I don’t want the kids to hear me yell, but I am furious on the inside.

“Come on, Y/N, he asked. What was I supposed to do, say no?” He responds.

I’m about to respond when he cuts me off. He always used to do that when we were dating, and it still angers me just as much as it does now. “Besides, Naomi plays baseball so it’s only fair for Wyatt to play hockey.”

“I agree that Wyatt should have an activity to do,” I start slowly, “But we agreed that things like this would be split 50/50 and I cannot afford to buy a bunch of expensive hockey equipment and spend money on lessons right now.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. “Really? With all of the money I give you in child support you can’t afford this?”

I narrow my eyes at him and open my mouth to rip him a new one when Wyatt comes running down the stairs, yelling about a new dinosaur toy that grandma got him. This conversation will have to wait for now.

“Thank you, Christopher, I’ll be over in about an hour with Kelsea to look over some options,” I inform the manufacturer, hanging up the phone and exiting the secluded corner that I found.

I head back over to the offices near the locker room where the construction will start. A few of the workers are already tearing up the old tile and dirty trim but I keep my eyes peeled for one worker in particular.

“Jeremy,” I call out when I see him.

The older man rises from the floor, brushing his hands off on his pants and giving me a wrinkly smile. “Hey, Y/N.”

“I need your advice,” I confess. When I first started working for this company Naomi was only a year old. I was a stressed-out mom who was fresh out of college and was unsure of how to balance mom life and work.

Jeremy took me under his wing, having a daughter himself who’s just a few years older than Naomi. Now I always go to him whenever I’m not sure I’m doing something right as a parent.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

I explain the situation of Wyatt refusing to sleep in his own bed to Jeremy shyly. I know he’s not judgmental, since he’s helped me through plenty of parenting situations, but it still makes me feel insecure that I can’t handle these things on my own.

“You just need to start telling him no,” Jeremy replies, like it’s that simple.

“But what if he yells? He might wake Naomi up,” I argue.

He shrugs. “Close both of their doors, turn up their sound machines, and let it be. He needs to start sleeping in his own bed now before he’s fifteen and still sleeping with you.”

I sigh, knowing he’s right. It wouldn’t be good for either of us to continue this arrangement. “Thanks for the advice, Jeremy.”

“No problem, Y/N. Hey, how did Naomi’s baseball game go last week?”

“Her team won! She got all the way to third base on one hit, I’m so proud of her.”

“That’s amazing! You’re a great mom.”

I smile at the compliment, watching him return to his work before I turn around, stopping dead in my spot as I see who’s behind me. Matthew is frozen, his face blank as he stares at me, his mouth agape slightly.

It’s clear he just heard what Jeremy said to me.

“You’re a mom?” He breathes out.

“Yes.”

“Naomi and Wyatt?” He inquires, repeating the names he overheard. I nod silently. “How old are they?”

“Naomi is six and Wyatt is three,” I answer.

“Six and three,” he repeats. I watch his eyes flicker to the wall in thought, clearly processing something in his brain. His eyes snap back to mine and he clears his throat. When he speaks again, it’s louder this time, more confident. “Naomi likes baseball?”

“Yeah. Her favorite team is the Chicago Cubs, actually,” I grin at that, letting out a little giggle as Matt wrinkles his nose at the sound of his favorite baseball team’s rival.

“And Wyatt, does he like baseball too?”

“Wyatt likes hockey,” I confess, watching as the hockey player’s face lights up in interest. “He wants to play, but since it’s so late in the season and everything he’ll just have to wait until next season to join a team and learn how to skate.”

“Well, I can teach him,” he offers.

“You would do that?” I ask quietly, sensing that this is much more than him wanting to teach a three-year-old how to skate.

“Of course I would,” he accepts, maintaining eye contact as he says the words.

I let out a small smile, watching as the corners of his lips peak up as well.

“Okay.”

#nhl imagines #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #nhl one shots #Matthew Tkachuk x reader #nhl story #bmsomeday

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headtothecoast · 4 years

Text

buzzfeed unsolved!geraskier

monsters do very much exist and geralt is still a witcher who is approached during the winter to join buzzfeed after their recent hire jaskier suggested he wanted to look at mysterious historical disappearances and monster lore and do a series on it. the problem is a lot of the information is false and they need help debunking online rumors. so jaskier finds geralts witcher service online (yen dealt with that, basically twisted his arm into having a website) and calls him asking if he’d be interested in doing the series.

hunting isn’t reliable work and having fairly steady income would be nice, even if the guy is a little annoying so geralt agrees to fact check except then jaskiers cohost gets sick (not what really happened to the guy before shane) and he asks him if he could please film an episode or two they were so close to finishing the first season for release and no one else knows the material so geralt agrees to that to.

and when he meets the guy face to face he’s wearing heels and looks a little embarrassed saysing sorry, one of the other series needed a guy to wear heels for a day and i’d already agree to the filming for their episode. hope you don’t mind.

and geralt definitely doesn’t mind because the guy looks good in heels and then geralt is being pestered about being a witcher and wow your hair and eyes, you look like a -

and geralt waits for the word monster with clenched teeth but it doesn’t come

- model! seriously, i’m surprised no ones tried to scout you before...

and while geralt doesn’t exactly listen to the rest of that, he is relieved that the guy isn’t scared of him.

so they get mic’d up and jaskier is explaining how it’ll go and that usually there’s some banter back and forth so if geralt has any thoughts on what he’s talking about to please interrupt him because it’ll lighten what they’re talking about for audience you know and geralt nods and they’re ready to begin.

so jaskier is setting the scene and doing a voice over that is downright lyrical and he’s talking about information on vampires and that the family thought to have gone missing because of one bought several pounds of garlic and geralt snorts quite loudly and jaskiers like what, not enough garlic?

and before he knows it geralt is saying, no it’s just i know who started that rumor, friend of mine knew a guy who was allergic so when he went around complaining about vampires trying to find him by friend told him to fill his house with garlic.

were there actually vampires after him? jaskier asked, smiling.

oh hell no, the guy was anemic. vampires and witcher’s can smell that from miles away, he was having us on and lambert decided to give him a taste of his own medicine.

and the rest of the episode goes like that, geralt reading stories and jaskier commentating and asking questions and between takes geralt asks jaskier why he was so interested in monsters.

well, originally it was because of the songs. you know, the factually inaccurate but beautifully written ballads about werewolves and vampires and harpies and i wondered how much was true? buzzfeed didn’t like that so instead we changed it to more disappearance type stuff because apparently i get too sucked into musical theory... and geralt has no doubt that’s the case.

little by little they become friends. jaskier invites geralt out for drinks and geralt invites jaskier to his house to see the remains of recent kills so jaskier can make the episode more real.

when the first season is released jaskiers cohost quits for unrelated reasons and jaskier is heartbroken, going to geralts house unannounced and crying because he had thought it was good and now no one else would do it with him and before he’s aware of what he’s doing geralt is agreeing to do the series with him. so long as it doesn’t interfere with hunts and jaskier is hugging him and geralt offers to make dinner and that’s that for the night.

except people love the series and it has an almost overnight following and yes some youtube comments are mean but most people love geralt and his dry humor and jaskier for his bright personality. and sure, sometimes jaskier will read a comment about being over talkative or geralt will find the comments calling him terrifying and monsterous but they always make sure to send each other the good ones.

and maybe during the off season of shooting jaskier has plans to visit geralt but is a little early and doesn’t think he’d mind but when he lets himself in geralt is shirtless and has a nasty wound in his shoulder and is just continuing to bleed so of course jaskier rushes over panicked and helps him stitch himself up and lays him out on the couch because there’s no way he could carry him upstairs so he sleeps on the other couch and prays for geralt to be alright.

and in the morning someone opens geralts front door and it’s a woman with bright blonde hair who’s smiling as she lets herself in and says sorry didn’t mean to wake you, i forgot my laptop and i have a group project later. tell dad to call me when he wakes up so i know he’s alright. thanks for patching him up, when i was over last weekend he told me all about you so it was nice to meet you jaskier and then she’s gone and jaskier is sitting dumbfounded because he didn’t know geralt had a daughter

and geralt is sitting up and looks confused but relaxes when he sees jaskier and says you know i meant to tell you about ciri but it really never came up. i don’t see her mother very often and she spends most of her time there. thank you for fixing me up last night, didn’t realize there’d be two and then he’s standing and jaskier is rushing to sit him back down you could have died did you know that? and geralt is smiling lightly as jaskier talks about how worried he was and oh goodness you must be hungry i’ll bring you something but melitele above don’t you dare stand up again until after breakfast

and then that’s just how things are with them spending the night at each other’s places between prep work for the show and jaskier patching geralt up on hunts until one day jaskier brings up the next topic of the show and geralt freezes.

see, there’s this story about someone called the butcher of blaviken, killed almost 40 men and there’s rumors about what type of monster it was but - geralt? are you okay? geralt!?

and geralt doesn’t realize he’s leaving until he’s in his car and jaskier is calling him but he shuts his phone off and just he couldn’t handle hearing jaskier call him a monster or reliving what had happened.

and thankfully jaskier gives him a day all to himself and doesn’t call him or show up at his place or anything and geralt tries to push those memories out of his head but fails and decides to sleep it off and when he wakes up he can smell something cooking and goes downstairs to see yennefer making breakfast like she had when they were married and his chest feels tight but he sits down and waits for the explanation.

so ciri called me last night saying that a friend of yours, glad you have one of those by the way, had called her crying and saying you had left his place looking upset and you wouldn’t answer your phone and it was maybe something he said about blaviken so she called me. i know you’ve got that little youtube show going and i can only imagine that what this is about but geralt, you can’t keep running from it forever. and her smile is soft like it used to be before they just stopped talking like they used to and he lets himself remember how he’d loved her and he gets up from the table and says thank you yen, for breakfast and gives her a hug which startles her and when she leaves it’s only after geralt texted jaskier to come over to talk

and jaskier comes over anxious and sad and geralt tells him everything about renfri and blaviken and stregobor and jaskier listens quietly and at the end geralt’s face is tucked into jaskiers shoulder and he’s crying and jaskier is telling him they don’t have to do that episode ever and he’ll throw out the file and oh geralt i am so sorry, you’re not a monster sweetheart, it’ll be okay i promise

and whenever people tweet out mean things about geralt on social media jaskier goes feral and doesn’t care about the ramifications and geralt starts to lighten just a little and then one night they’re at a bar and someone sneers at him and jaskier lays the guy out, breaks his nose and geralt is hauling him out of the bar saying what the hell were you thinking you could’ve been arrested jaskier and jaskier isn’t even listening he’s still shouting at the man but he looks and geralt and says serves him right the bastard - i’m not letting people say that shit to you anymore, melitele knows you don’t deserve it. you’re the best man i know geralt you don’t deserve to be treated like shit if i want to punch someone i’ll damn well punch them because no one gets to -

and geralt cuts him off with a kiss because never has someone cared this much, to be angry over the words of others and to resolutely stick with him and defend him. and when jaskier kisses back geralt knows he’ll do anything to keep this man at his side.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #jaskier #the witcher #yennefer #cirilla of cintra #buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed unsolved!geraskier

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waterisntreal · 3 years

Text

I’m starting a new tag game

So basically say you first and current impressions for each character and tag 10 people

Julie

First: She’s a strong independent women and I love that for her. She’s insanely talented and really pretty.

Current: Julie is hella underrated. I mean she is the main fucking character. Her outfits are amazing. Still insanely talented and really pretty. She is such a good friend but she also doesn’t let people push her around and I love that. Definitely bisexual.

Luke

First: He is adorable and hot but he’s not that great. A little annoying and pushy. I mean he’s a puppy and I love him but he’s a little overrated. I shipped him with Reggie.

Current: Luke deserves all the love he gets. Though I do think people talk to much about how hot he is. Like I get he’s hot I’ve seen him but he’s more than that too. He is a good friend and very passionate and I love that about him. His character development is *chef’s kiss*. I ship him with Julie.

Alex

First: Surprise canon queer characters are literally the best. We stan an anxious bean. We deserve more Alex dances/songs.

Current: my thoughts on Alex have probably changed the least out of everyone. He definitely has a little sister. 100% used to like and/or date Luke. Also his (Owen’s) voice is fucking incredible and he needs more songs. We still stan an anxious bean.

Reggie

First: My favorite character. I love him so much. He is an idiot. He flirts a lot with girls. Definitely bisexual. I shipped him with Luke.

Current: Still my favorite character. He is a disaster bisexual that can’t handle flirting with boys or girls. He is great with social situations but he’s actually really good at school. Literally a math genius and a straight A student. I now ship him with Nick because they are sweethearts that deserve each other, thank you to @/perfect-harmony and @/we-are-all-alex for that.

Flynn

First: She is an absolute queen. I mean really your fav could never. She’s a really good friend and I wish I had a friend like her. I shipped her with Julie.

Current: Still a fucking queen. I would marry her if she asked. She deserves more songs. I’m not sure who I ship her with because I used to ship her with Julie or Carrie but now I ship Juke and Kaylie so idk. But she deserve someone nice. I just really wish I could be friends with her.

Willie

First: I was really mad at him for introducing the boys to Caleb. I mean dude you know he owns people’s souls what about that sounds like a good thing. Like dude you could have just not told them about Caleb and not told Caleb about them. But I still really liked Willex.

Current: It wasn’t Willie’s fault. He was probably scared of what Caleb would do to him if he found that Willie knew about the boys and didn’t tell him. And you can’t really blame him for not wanting to die for a guy he just meet. Also Booboo Stewart is fucking hot and more people should talk about that. Willex is a god tier ship.

Carrie

First: I thought she was a total bitch when I first watched jatp. I didn’t like her at all.

Current: She is a queen and I love her. This is mostly due to @/dirtycandyy. Also she’s a lesbian and in love with Kayla.

Nick

First: I liked him, at least more than most people. But I didn’t really care that much about him. I could get over his hats. Also I thought he was straight.

Current: Literally my fucking child. I love him and his hats. He is the proud son of Chad and Ryan Danforth-Evans. Also I now ship him with Reggie.

Kayla

First: I did not care about her at all. I didn’t even know her name.

Current: if we don’t get more of her next season I will riot. She is in love with Carrie. She is the proud daughter of Sharpay and Taylor Evans-Mckessie.

Bobby

First: I hated him. I though he was irredeemable and selfish. That he was the Peter Pettigrew of Sunset Curve.

Current: Bobby deserves better. He was a child that went through something very traumatic and made some bad choices. Also we don’t know why he didn’t credit Luke, he could have a perfectly good reason. I am a Bobby stan now and I will defended him until the show gives me proper evidence as to why I shouldn’t.

Caleb

First: I hated him. He’s a monster and I hope he dies, again. No one hurts my boys and gets away with it. But The Other Side of Hollywood is a bop.

Current: I still don’t like him. He tried to hurt my boys and he threatened Willie and for that he deserves to suffer. But he’s definitely gay. The Other Side of Hollywood and You Got Nothing to Lose are bops.

Tagging: @dirtycandyy @perfectharmony @wilsonscarrie @we-are-all-alex @justaphantomband @chaoticizzy @pynkpoet @sunsetnerve @curvingsunsets @dr-rigatoni and whoever else wants to do it

#tag games #tag game #jatp #julie and the phantoms

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thesaltyoceanwaves · 5 years

Text

Good Intentions

Ao3

Based off this post. You guys really seemed to like it, so here you go.

The plan to ruin Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s reputation and credibility was well under way. And while there had been a bump in the road with Bustier undoing her seat switch plan at the end of the day, Lila still considered the day a victory. After all, she managed to sow the seeds of distrust, and the class managed to believe her over Marinette. She gave the baker girl maybe a month, tops, before everything came crashing down on her, and with no way to prove that Lila had anything to do with it.

Of course, there was still the issue of Adrien, but he was a pushover. All he wanted was to make friends! He had no spine, and it would only be a matter of time before she had him twisted around her little finger.

That night, maybe an hour or so before retiring to bed, she hatches her next plan and hits up Alya with a text:

L: Hey, Alya? Could I have Marinette’s number? I’d like to work things out with her and maybe even get her opinion on some clothes??

Usually, for texts like these, she gets a pretty immediate response. She even gets the animation indicating that Alya is typing a message, only for it to stop and no message to be sent. Frowning, she places the phone down on her desk as she goes about browsing social media profiles of her classmates and the stars she’s supposedly schmoozed with, checking to see if there are any new updates. About thirty minutes pass when Alya finally responds, and Lila can’t help but roll her eyes at what might have possibly kept Alya for so long.

A: heyyy, i think it’s great u want to get along w Mari, but i think it’s better 2 give her some space after 2day. but if it’s an emergency, i can ask her 4 u!

Squinting her eyes, she gives the text a long, hard glance before realizing that it’s real. It has to be some sort of joke. There’s no real reason Alya should be hesitant in giving her something like this.

L: I was worried about this. Marinette must really hate me if she doesn’t even want to give me her number!

A satisfied smirk spreads across her face as she waits for the inevitable anxious reply. Surely, Alya wouldn’t want her new friend to feel so left out and targeted, right? Once again, the texting animation is quickly evident, and she can practically hear Alya apologizing for making her feel so bad about it.

A: i swear it’s not like that!!! just give her some time & she’ll warm up, i swear!! so how about those outfits!?

Scowling, she quickly responds with a half-hearted “never mind, I’ll ask Clara’s designer instead,” and tosses the phone across the room onto her bed with a sigh. Perhaps it’s just a fluke, and maybe tomorrow, when Lila comes face to face with Alya, she can corner her into giving up Marinette’s number. It’s not something she should be this worried about anyway, but if she’s going to forge fake messages, she needs to make it look like they had contact with each other.

For now, that idea is on hold. Still, there’s plenty of ways to shake things up the next morning.

---

While having a position of power made you respected, it also made you stress out over every other little thing, and put you in a position of criticism. Thankfully, Lila doesn’t have to contend with the responsibilities of Class Rep, and can instead content herself to push Marinette’s buttons instead.

“...And the class vs class picnic will be happening next Friday,” she says, finishing the morning announcements, “Please make sure to bring athletic attire to change into, because we will be getting messy. Does anyone have any questions?”

Oh boy, does Lila ever. She meekly raises her hand, making sure at least one or two other classmates note the wary expression on her face. Biting back a sigh, Marinette points to her and asks, “Yes?”

“Um, well, I’m not sure I can handle anything outdoorsy,” she pouts, holding out her hand, “My wrist is busted and I can’t really throw anything.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Mylene interrupts, smiling cheerfully, “We made sure to include some non-athletic activities, like making friendship bracelets and writing nature haikus! If you don’t want to use pen and paper, you should be able to bring your tablet!”

With her lips curling inward, Lila has to bite back a dark glare. Something was definitely up. She’s not sure what, but Marinette must have told them something about the previous day. It’s difficult to tell because Marinette doesn’t have a very distinctive expression, but Lila would be a fool to believe otherwise.

And she would certainly not be that.

“That’s very nice of you to think of me,” she says, trying to bite back tears, “But, um, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to go that day, anyway. I’m supposed to be volunteering at a charity event to help reduce carbon emissions. Is it possible that we could have the picnic a day earlier? Or the next week?”

Some glances are exchanged in the rows before conversation breaks out. As she expects, Marinette’s face contorts with annoyance, and she opens her mouth to say something, but she’s cut off by Alya, who places a hand on her shoulder, and shakes her head. Turning to Lila, she says, “Actually, me and Mari spent a lot of time organizing this event with the other student reps, and it wouldn’t be fair to suddenly reschedule like that. But I assure you that we have some other events in the future that we’ll be more easily able to take your schedule into account, just as long as you tell us ahead of time, Lila.”

“Oh,” she pouts, blinking as rapidly as she can. “That’s too bad. I was really looking forward to going too…” she says with a sigh.

“Well,” Mylene offers, “We can always throw you a picnic another day. That way, Marinette and the other student reps don’t have to worry about all that rescheduling, and you can still have fun hanging out with us. Right, guys?”

The chattering, the annoying, annoying chattering grows more excited, as if they already have it planned in stone. As though they no longer have to give Lila anymore thought or concern. Of course, she’d have to be gracious and just accept it, right?

There’s still no sign from Marinette that she’s in on it, or that she’s satisfied with the turn out. For someone who hates lying so much, she must be pretty good at it. There’s no way she’s innocent.

Still, Lila has no choice but to playfully bat her eyes and practically coo at the suggestion. “You’re all just so wonderful! I would love that, of course!”

A pen snaps in her hands, and the ink covers the knee of her leggings. But her forced smile doesn’t falter for a second, lest she want to draw unwanted attention.

---

Marinette is naive to leave her backpack by itself, without a single eye to watch it. It seems that Chloe failed at her job at instilling fear in the school, if Marinette was going around carefree without any sort of protection. But that leaves Lila free to sneak into her bag and plant the answers for the test that they finished taking-

A sudden, squeakish voice interrupts, causing her to drop the paper.

“There you are, Lila!” Rose says cheerfully, “What are you doing?”

Jumping, it takes her a moment to realize she’s dropped the paper. She unfortunately can’t see where it landed, and she finds herself sputtering, sputtering, her response, “O-Oh, Rose! I-I was just… I found Marinette’s backpack!”

“Oh, she was looking for that!” Rose says, picking it up and hugging it to her chest, “That’s awfully nice of you, Lila! Marinette was looking for that.”

“It’s not a big deal! I just wanted to help out a friend, you know?”

“You really are a sweetheart, you know?” Rose says, patting her shoulder, “Still, I think we’re better off just telling Marinette it was in the lost or found.”

She blinks. “What? Why?”

“Well, we don’t want to give Marinette the wrong idea,” Rose points out, “You might be trying to help her, but knowing her, she’ll probably think you tampered with her stuff.”

“I can’t believe she thinks so little of me,” Lila sniffs, “I’m only trying to help.”

“Oh, we know,” Rose says, patting her shoulder, “And someday she’ll be able to see that. But I think she’s really coming around. Just a little more time and she’ll see just how cool you really are!”

As they leave the area, Lila waits for a moment to sneak back into the backpack, but the opportunity never presents itself. Soon enough, Marinette is reunited with her backpack, and Lila knows from her narrowed leer, she’s bound to search through the bag to make sure it wasn’t tampered with.

There is no doubt in her mind that this is deliberate sabotage. Marinette said something to get these goons to follow her around and interrupt at the most opportune and least convenient moments. Plan after plan, ruined because they “don’t want Marinette getting the wrong impression of her!”

Well, with any luck, that was going to stop today.

She is quick to follow Marinette into the bathroom and pin her against the walls.

“So, you think you’re so smart, huh? Getting your friends to keep an eye on me and keep you out of trouble?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Stop lying!” Lila shouts, “Playing stupid isn’t your forte! I know you said something about me to them to ruin my plans! Well, guess what? I have plenty of methods that’ll get you expelled.”

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Lila?” Alya’s booming voice calls out, holding a phone in front of her. Behind her are Alix, Mylene, Rose and Juleka, who all share darkened expressions and are ready to voice their distaste. She has to think of something quick if she’s going to recover and get control of the situation again.

“A-Alya,” she stammers, trying to force a smile, “M-Marinette was just, um, she was bullying me! Can you believe it?”

“No, I can’t,” Alya retorts, “Because I just captured footage for the past few minutes of you attacking Marinette in the bathroom and threatening to get her expelled! And after everything we did for you, trying to help you get along with her, especially at Adrien’s suggestion!” She clicks her tongue.

Blinking, she looks from Marinette back to Alya. Adrien? Adrien was the one to calculate this plan? She supposed it would make some degree of sense - Adrien was hardly the type to get his hands dirty when he had assistants and money to do that for him. Still, there was no way the boy with the least amount of backbone in the entire school would go out of his way to sabotage her, especially not for Marinette.

“You’re a liar,” Lila hisses, before trying to smile again, “Adrien would never suggest something so diabolical.”

“Since when was trying to help people get along diabolical?” Alix points out, “If anyone is headed toward the realm of villainy and bullying, it’s you. Anything else you want to confess to?”

And for once, Lila’s out of stories to spin.

#ml salt #ml salt fic #lila salt #lila exposed #salty writes #good intentions au

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hopesangelsprite · 3 years

Text

Before I Die P.JM

Summary:

Y/N has had a crush on her older brother’s bestfriend for ages, and now her brother and his other bestie are making her do something about it. Because she’s tired of waiting around and wishing, she agrees.

“No.”, I stated plainly whilst pushing my fingers through my (H/C) hair. A strangled growl followed by a whiny groan met my impassive response. “Oh my fucking gosh, (Y/N)!! You’ve said ‘no’ to ALL of our ideas!”, my older brother, Jungkook, hissed in annoyance. Beside him on the California king bed sat his second-oldest hyung who was glaring daggers at me.

“I think it’s... it’s too much!!”, I huffed with anxious butterflies fluttering around in my gut. “Nah. That’s not it, is it? You’re nervous, aren’t you?”, Taehyung said whilst raising an accusatory eyebrow.

I paused and looked away. He was wrong. I wasn’t nervous. I was fuckin’ hysterical! Today was a very important day. Today I would finally be confessing to the love of my life a.k.a my everything a.k.a the most beautiful man on earth a.k.a Park Jimin. I’d been in love with him since I entered high school!

When I was brought to Korea, after being adopted by the Jeons, I was a total fish out of water. I had no friends, I was socially awkward, I was extremely introverted, and I could barely speak the language. I was a complete wreck. Then I met Jimin.

Around the school, he was known as a playboy. A guy who was only interested in what a woman could give him physically not emotionally. So when he approached me, I was beyond skittish. What was a guy like him doing approaching a girl like me?

All was well, though. He introduced himself as a friend of my brother’s, and we quickly became friends. After that day, we were inseparable. We hung out all the time and ate together. I had the honor to get to know the sweetheart underneath his playboy persona. I grew to love him more than just a friend.

But I never had the guts to admit it to him. Even when he was dating and talking to other girls, I never said anything to him about the pain I felt when he was with a girl that wasn’t me. Seeing this, Jungkook and Taehyung grew more annoyed by the day. Until finally, they confronted me and asked if I needed help confessing. I agreed and the rest is history.

We’d been planning for weeks, but I shut down all of their ideas. It was because I was afraid it was either too cliche or too farfetched.

Taehyung, who had become bored with my guilty silence, had occupied himself with Tik Tok. Suddenly, he sat forward and looked at me before turning his screen around. On the screen, above the boy and girl, were the words “Today I’m gonna confess to my bestie: GONE RIGHT!!!”. ‘Before I Die’ by Ayzha Nyree was playing as the girl stared into the boy's eyes and sang the words to him. The boy smirked before pulling her into a kiss, ending the Tik Tok.

I looked up at him in confusion causing him to facepalm. “You’re an amazing singer! This the song you and Jimin play every single time you’re in the car together! You’re going to confess to him with this song!”, he yelled with slight annoyance and even more excitement.

My eyes widened as I thought it over. Slowly a smile made its way across my features. I nodded making him and Jungkook shout in triumph. After a moment of celebration, the two looked at me with mischief in their eyes. “Okay! So here’s the plan.”, Tae started as he began explaining what was going to go down

*TIME SKIP*

I bit my lip nervously as I waited for the phone to pick up. This was the first step of my plan: Call Jimin and invite him over. Suddenly, there was a click and a deep male voice spoke from the receiver.

“What’s good, baby?”, came Jimin’s sleepy voice, sending chills down my spine. “H-hey Minie! Um...could you come over in a bit? I-I wanna show you s-something!”, I inquired. There was a pause before he responded with, “Sure, babe! Are you ok, by the way? You sound a bit nervous. Is everything alright?”. I mentally cursed his intuitiveness before answering him.“I’m fine Minie! Just hurry up and come over!”, I demanded causing him to chuckle. “Alright, alright! I’ll be over ‘n five!”, he said before hanging up.

I sighed as I put the phone down and looked into the mirror across from my bed. Earlier Tae had brought me a black bag and told me to wear what was inside it. The outfit inside was very… scandalous. It consisted of a silky black mini dress, fishnet stockings, and a pair of tall black stilettos. After I’d seen what was in the bag, I tried to protest, but Tae said he’d smack me so far away Google wouldn’t be able to find my ass.

So, I wore the outfit, and Jungkook began styling my hair. My hair was about knee-length and was pure white since birth. Jungkook had decided not to pull it up but to straighten it and curl the ends. While he was focusing on that, Tae did my makeup. He went for a natural look because he thought I was “already pretty enough”.

After they’d finished, they wished me luck and left the rest of the plan to me. I had wasted a good hour and a half psyching myself up to call Jimin over, so here we were. I glanced at the clock and gasped. Jimin would be over any minute now!

I stood and began checking that the speakers were working and that everything was ready. Once I was sure of it, I adjusted the microphone stand Namjoon, Tae’s cousin had let us borrow to my liking. As I finished, the sound of a door opening met my ears. “I’m here!! Where are you, (Y/N)?!”, came Jimin’s voice. Nervousness filled me once again. I forgot he had the keys to my apartment.

“I’m in my room, Minie!”, I called out and readied myself. Seconds later, the love of my life came walking in wearing a simple pair of grey sweats and a matching hoodie. He looked over my outfit before raising a playful eyebrow. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying fuck! We goin’ somewhere because I can change real quick.”, he said making me roll my eyes.

“We aren’t going anywhere, Jimin. Just sit down and listen!”, I ordered making him chuckle and raise his hands in surrender. He sat at the foot of my bed and gestured for me to proceed. I sighed and prayed for this to go well because, if it didn’t and I lost my best friend, I was going to murder Tae and Jungkook. I pressed the remote in my palm causing the speakers to begin playing the instrumental for the song. Just like Tae had told me, I began swaying my hips and let the music take control.

“I don’t even wanna go back home… What is this love and war? He know that I love him, got him fucking me raw He know I ain’t with it, never did it before He got me all in my feelings, now he got you all in yours”

I sang with a tiny smirk as I watched his eyes trail across my body. I swayed and moved my hips a little more and continued.

“It’s like that He ain’t never leaving. No, he coming right back I know that he need it cause shawty gon’ bite back And he don’t want nobody else hittin’ it like that

Before I die, I’m tryna fuck you baby Hopefully, we don’t have no babies I don’t even wanna go back home Hopefully, you don’t leave on your own

Before I die, I’m tryna fuck you baby Hopefully, we don’t have no babies I don’t even wanna go back home Hopefully, you don’t leave on your own”

I sang smoothly whilst gesturing between me and him. His eyes were clouded with lust as he held eye contact with me. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth; something he only did when he was attracted to someone.

I continued to sing and dance sensually. A few winks were sent here and there as I moved my hands across my body. I flicked my tongue across my lips before singing the final set of lyrics.

“Yeah~ I don’t wanna play no games, play no games I don’t wanna play no games, play no games

I don’t, I don’t I don’t wanna play no games. play no games

All these lame *****s keep pissing me off All the lame bitches tryna fuck with your heart I know what you want, I ain’t fucking you off Bae, You deserve it all, I know who you are~”

I sang the final adlibs with as much passion as I could. I poured my heart into every syllable and note. I sang the last line of the song and opened my eyes. Jimin sat forward with his chin resting on his fists. Awe filled his expression and a bright smile had stretched itself across his lips. He stood and gestured for me to walk over. I obeyed and stood in front of him. He wrapped his arms around me in a gentle embrace before pulling away and pressing his lips to mine. Though the kiss only lasted for a few seconds, it felt like a lifetime.

“So, you finally decided to tell me that you loved me, huh.”, he teased after breaking our kiss. My eyes widened slightly. “You knew the entire time?!”, I asked in disbelief. He nodded. “You think that I wouldn’t notice how quiet you’d get when I had a girl over, or that I didn’t see how hurt you looked when I told you I had a girlfriend. (Y/N), we’ve been friends since your freshman year, and we’re going to be graduating college together soon! I know all about you, love”, he admitted.

I paused in thought at his words. “Why didn’t you say something, Jimin?”, I inquired softly, He sighed and buried his face in my neck before answering, “I didn’t think it would last long; I thought it was just a high school crush or something. When I noticed that you still liked me… I got scared. I’m not a loveable person. I haven’t been involved with only one girl since I started dating when I was 14. I’m no good, and you deserve so much better than me.”.

I frowned lifted his face in my hands gently. “Park Jimin, I love you not for who you were or who you are now. I love you because of who you can become. I trust you with my life and now I trust you with my heart. Can you trust me with yours?”, I asked softly. He stared at me with what I could only describe as pure love in his eyes before nodding. “Yes… yes, I can!”, he cheered before connecting our lips again.

This time it lasted for a few more minutes. Jimin pulled away and smirked down at me. “Now you said you said you wanted to do what with me before you die?”, he inquired whilst guiding me toward my bed.

#bts #bts fic #bts jimin #crush #fanfic #bts army

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blucmoon · 3 years

Photo

━ ☾ ⊹ ( gabbi garcia, cis female , she/her ) say hello to ALTHEA CORTEZ, the TWENTY FOUR YEAR OLD that seems to have a lot in HER hands with HER job as an EVENT PLANNER! beyond that, they seemed METICULOUS AND GENEROUS upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of VOLATILE AND STUBBORN though. SHE seems to live in a SHARED VILLA in SIARGAO, PHILIPPINES. anything else to add? oh, yeah! she also LEFT EVERYTHING BEHIND IN VANCOUVER FOR A JOB OPPORTUNITY IN THE PHILIPPINES!

basic information

full name: althea cortez

nickname(s): ally, thea

age: twenty four

date of birth: december 2, 1996

birthplace: makati, philippines

hometown: vancouver, canada

current location: siargao, philippines

ethnicity: filipino

nationality: canadian

gender: cisfemale

pronouns: she / her

orientation: demiromantic, heterosexual

religion: agnostic

education: graduated high school, various courses at a community college

occupation: event planner

physical appearance

faceclaim: gabbi garcia

hair colour: naturally dark brown, has never dyed it in bold colours. the most she’s done is getting some blonde streaks upon arriving at siargao but soon got bored of them and dyed back to a color similar to her natural one.

eye colour: chocolate, does like to wear coloured contacts when going out or on special occasions.

height: 5 ft 6.5 in (1.69 m)

weight: 132 lbs ( 60 kg )

tattoos: none yet.

piercings: standard and upper lobe in both ears, helix on the left ear.

personality

label: the restless

positive traits: meticulous, ebullient, outgoing, loyal, generous, helpful, ambitious,

negative traits: volatile, conflict-averse, fluctuating self-esteem and confidence, secretive, reserved, quick-tempered.

hobbies: calligraphy, baking, swimming, hiking.

habits: talking to herself, drumming fingers on every surface, chewing the ends of pens, flicking pens/pencils/anything between her fingers, doodle on the corners and margins of her planner, humming when listening to music, tapping her feet when she’s impatient, rubbing her neck when she’s nervous, tugging loose threads when she’s anxious, not listening to others when she’s deep in thought.

zodiac sign: sagittarius sun, leo moon, virgo rising

mbti: esfj-a “the consul”

temperament: sanguine

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

moral alignment: chaotic good

anger: hot

approachability: friendly

sociability: loves being around people, feeling most energized when she’s having deep conversations about topics that interest her. one to not let the conversations die and always finding ways to either continue or spark a new topic, getting so involved in this that she often loses track of time. she’s easily bored if not involved in social activities and dislikes solitude. it’s not unusual to feel as if you’ve known althea for years after the first meeting as she welcomes everyone with open arms and loves making people feel seen and heard.

detailed personality

restless, cheerful and friendly, althea will happily involve anyone into whatever interest she has or will give up her free time to be engaged in the things her beloved ones are interested in. generous with her time, effort, and emotions, she often takes on the concerns of others as if they were her own, and will attempt to put her energy to help others, eager to please and provide.

secretly, althea needs approval, recognition and admiration; she wants to be seen. goes out of her way to notice what is needed and feels even more motivated when others acknowledge her efforts and express their appreciation. though, sometimes she’s so focused on others that she lacks to pay attention to her own unmet needs and feelings.

however, she’s selective with her friends and is not overly influenced by them. when she feels comfortable, she does like being the center of attention. that is, she likes being in the “spotlight” in the comfort of her own home and with family and friends. enjoys entertaining others and is more able than most people to get others talking, simply because she’s very receptive and sympathetic with an innate ability to pick up others’ feelings and body language.

althea possesses an unwavering ambition: once she’s set on a particular path, she’s not coming back until her purpose is fulfilled. likes to get things done and has a knack for handling a wide variety of tasks at once; a tendency to take on perhaps too much at the same time. very easily distracted and her attention span can be quite short.

doesn’t have an inherent love for routine and established anything’s, but does recognise its value and purpose when it comes to be productive. she’s learnt to be a little more organized and does prefer to stick to certain plans, mostly when it comes to her job due its nature. easily gets stressed when things don’t meet up to expectations. althea sees problems clearly and is able to delegate easily in order to solve them. likes a sense of harmony and cooperation around her, and she’s energetically dedicated to her responsibilities.

able to adapt quite easily to wherever she’s in and, with an outstanding memory, she tends to pick up a lot of information from her environment to facilitate this. althea can be brave, knowing how and what risks to take. she’s able to bend the rules from time to time if she feels the need to do so.

can be a challenge to predict from time to time, even by the closest people to her. can seem very loyal and steady for a while, but althea has a tendency to build up a store of impulsive energy that explodes without warning, taking her interests in bold, new directions.

has always had problems expressing herself, particularly verbally, and much prefers to listen to others than being listened to. whatever she might say is self-censored to some degree. it’s difficult for althea to pour out her emotions because she’s always aware of what others might think of her with what she says, not wanting to accidentally come across as tactless and judgmental. very careful with what she reveals to others.

she can get easily wounded, and when this happens, her emotions are not contained as she “wears her heart on her sleeve” but will more often than not avoid burdening others with her own problems and concerns. instead, she likes to channel these dramatic and vibrant emotions into one of her multiple hobbies, mostly baking (she stress-bakes).

to avoid feeling a deep sense of loneliness, she finds ways to connect and be of service to others. she has an innate sense of what to say or do for people to feel seen and admired, taking pride in her ability to comfort and support others. she’s constantly moving away from feelings of worthlessness and towards feelings of connection and appreciation.

background

born as the middle sibling out of the three, althea and her family moved from makati to vancouver when she was almost one year old due to a job opportunity presented to her father.

had a really average childhood with all the pressure being poured onto her sister, five years older than her, and pushed to become the example of the other two. all the while her brother who’s only 2 years younger than althea clearly became the unspoken favorite. being the middle sibling was easy most of the time. so long she didn’t do any extraordinary things, neither good nor bad, althea was able to remain below her parent’s radar.

regular high school experience: neither remarkable nor reprobatory grades, a “steady” friends circle (as much as it can be when a teenager), dated a couple of times, part of the swimming team. by junior year, college never figured in her plans (or the lack thereof).

her parents didn’t quite like the idea but after getting help from her sister who talked to them, they didn’t complain as long as she got a job or helped her mom with hers (she was a seamstress), which is what she ended up doing.

it comes as a stroke of luck when her mother gets a call asking if she could help fix a bride’s dress at the wedding’s venue. her mother, quite busy at the moment, sent althea instead and she quickly fixed it before the ceremony started.

about to depart, crisis after crisis started presenting and it was obvious they were a little understaffed (althea learned a couple of years later that two of the assistants got sick on that same day).

with a little bit of free time in her hands, althea offered her help. by the time every crisis had been averted and she was ready to leave, the event planner took notice of her and offered to become an assistant in her company. at nineteen, thea takes the job.

the company is not as big as many others but still renowned enough to have a steady income of clients and at least one event every couple of weeks. thea was pretty much an errand girl at first and they often sent her to take courses or workshops to learn and hone some skills. (calligraphy, flower arranger, hospitality, etc. she even took an event planning course that went for 9 months, successfully getting a certificate.)

eventually, her opinions start being taken more and more into consideration and she takes more of an active role in the planning process. at twenty one, thea planned her very first wedding (a small one, no more than 50 guests).

she pours all her energy and time into this new phase of her job, loving every second of it and thriving for the compliments she got after every successful event. weddings were mostly her niche, she even planned her sister’s wedding; it doesn’t come as a surprise that she announces the engagement with her college sweetheart, it was actually quite expected. (her parents even implied more than once that they were taking too long).

it’s in one of her events, a birthday party for some socialite, that thea meets the guy that would become her boyfriend for the next two years. despite being surrounded by wealth and pretentiousness, he was unlike any of his peers: sweet, attentive, decent and didn’t pride himself on his parents’ money. it was quite easy to talk and be with him, thus they started dating shortly after.

her life seems to be perfect in every aspect: a good job, more than decent income, a healthy relationship with her boyfriend… her parents couldn’t find anything to complain about… for now.

it’s at the peak of her career as an event planner, that her parents become more and more insisting on questioning her about her status with her boyfriend. “after planning so many weddings, shouldn’t you start planning your own?” asked her mother, which thea always dismissed or ignored to avoid any fights.

truth is, even if weddings were a prominent aspect of her day to day, being a bride and going through the whole ceremony wasn’t something she saw happening in the foreseeable future, and her boyfriend seemed to be on the same page… or at least it was an unspoken thing between the two.

it’s the day before her 23rd birthday that she finds by mistake a ring box in her boyfriend’s apartment. knowing exactly what it meant, thea cracked the box open, finding the most beautiful engagement ring she’s ever seen. and it made her feel sick.

putting it back in its place, the whole night thea acted as if nothing happened despite the emotional turmoil she was going through.

when getting home, the first thing she did was try to find an email from one of her friends who told her about some camp in the philippines that could use an event planner. finally finding it buried deep within her inbox felt like all the answers to her problems were in those couple of lines.

in the middle of the night and with a dire need for adventure, thea left with a bag full of her belongings and all of her savings after booking the next flight to the philippines.

#INFO.TXT #ALTHEA.EXE #LOC.SIARGAO

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rainbowshawn · 4 years

Text

Never Be Alone

Request: “heyy it would be great if you did longing 1 and fluff 16 🥰”

Prompts: “You’ve always got me” + “I can’t imagine this world without you”

Summary: Helping Shawn through an anxiety attack.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, angst

Word Count: 2.6k

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Something was off and you could feel it in the deepest pit of your gut. A nagging feeling in the back of your head kept you from fully divulging in socializing at the party you had for some reason agreed to. You had every intention to dive in and have fun, but a tinge in your chest kept you from doing so.

There was something wrong; something with Shawn. He had been distant the past three or four days, you’ve lost count. His loving and warm personality was absent, replaced with a cold distance. He was out of sorts and despite your attempts to weed it out of him, you couldn’t quite crack him. You were just met with the cold shoulder and a lousy excuse.

Your attention span was completely ruined by your worry. You had decided it would be best to excuse yourself from the plans for the night. Guilt filled your veins but it wasn’t enough to cover the copious amounts of worry coursing through you. Something was wrong and you needed to see him.

You had raced home, winding through the night streets with wild thoughts bubbling up in your mind. Once you popped into the door, you made your way through the quiet house.

“Shawn?” you called out, hearing the echo bounce off the hollow entryway walls.

Your ears weren’t met with a response, so you trudged around the first floor, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Each room showed no signs of the boy, undisturbed since you left. You kicked your stilettos off and clambered up the stairs.

“Shaaaawn,” you sang, figuring he was in the bedroom. You press your palms against the large white door, pushing it open to reveal the dimly lit room. Your eyes settle on his large figure curled up on his side in bed and a smile almost forms on your face before it’s disrupted by a sniffling sound. Your eyebrows raise, your concern growing tenfold, “Honey? Are you okay?”

Your words shoot through him, only making him whimper and let out a choked breath. Your heart is suddenly pounding as you quickly make your way over to the bed. Crawling up next to his body, your hand meets his arm and you hover over him, “Shawny, what’s going on?”

“I need my girl,” his voice breaks.

His hands are grabbing at his chest as sobs begin to shake through him. His breathing is labored and you know exactly what’s happening to him. Shawn’s anxiety was unfortunately nothing new and you had seen him like this before. The pain of seeing him this way never got easier.

“I-I can’t breathe,” he gasps, still sobbing. His face is contorted in pain, reddened and wet from his seemingly never-ending tears.

“Shawny, can you sit up for me? Come here, love.” You say softly, trying not to demand too much from him in his fragile state. He remains in his spot for a moment before he finally sits up, still not quite facing you.

“Shh, c’mere,” you coo, reaching your arms out to him.

Shawn falls into your embrace, his head slotting into the crook of your neck. His wet cheek rests on your shoulder as his forehead rests on your neck. You feel his disrupted breaths fan across your chest as he wraps his arms tightly around you, almost as if he was searching for something to hold him down and ground him.

You press a kiss to his curly hair and move to pepper a few down his warm forehead. Rubbing a hand down his back, you shush him gently, hoping the sound would bring him some comfort. His cries felt infinite and you felt entirely helpless. You knew he just needed comfort right now and your questions would be answered in a while.

“Can you breathe with me, sweetheart? You’re hyperventilating,”

His sobs are still rolling out of his chest but he nods his head, still buried in your neck. You take a deep breath in, exaggerating the movements a bit so he can follow your lead. Your body relaxes on the exhale, still holding him tightly. You feel him trying to do the same; little hiccups interrupting a smooth breath in for him.

You keep rubbing his back as you repeat the motions, breathing in time with each other. He’s whimpering and hiccuping into your skin but he’s making an effort to calm down. You hold him close until, slowly, his breaths start to become less erratic. You wait until you feel he may be ready to talk before you start to question him.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” you whisper to him, shifting a bit to take his face into your palms. He whimpers as his face is revealed to you; feeling embarrassed at his outburst. Shawn hated you seeing him like this. He was so dead set on being strong for you- hell everyone around him for that matter, that he despised these moments of weakness. His soft whimper is accompanied by a soft furrow of his brows and a pouty lip. He tries to nuzzle into your hand, hoping for some sort of a shield from the extremity.

You smile sympathetically at the distressed boy, wanting so badly to grab him up and kiss his pain away. But unfortunately, you know that won’t make him feel better. He needed to talk.

“I-I d-don’t want yo-ou to forget me,” he chokes out, tears beginning to fall from his honey eyes again.

Your brows knit together, confused at what he means. He notices your confusion and takes a deep breath before explaining further, “W-when I tour,” he hiccups, “I don’t want you to forget about me.”

It clicks in your head for the most part. You knew he would get anxious right before tour, not wanting to leave his home or the people he loves behind. He had just gotten home from a particularly long tour a few weeks ago. This one had most definitely taken a toll on him physically and mentally and it took all you had to not rip his management team to shreds. The poor boy was overworked and exhausted.

The only thing you weren’t quite grasping was why he would ever think you would forget him.

“Shawny, I could never forget about you,” you assure him, tilting your head with a concerned look painted across your face.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” he mewls, “I’m never home. I’m so so-orry,”

His cries pick back up slightly as he speaks his feelings and your thumbs wipe his hot tears off of his pretty face. His eyes flutter shut and his lashes brush against your fingertips, painting wet streaks across them.

“Baby, you know I understand,” you reason, “You’re doing what you love. I would never hold that against you,”

“N-no, you don’t get it,” he starts, “I miss everything. Your life can continue without me and I just feel like you’re gonna forget me. Everyone for that matter. I know it’s crazy but I feel like I’m losing it”

He buries his face back into your neck and pulls you into his lap. Your weight brings him some sense of comfort and he breathes you in.

“It sounds so nice to travel the world and I love it- I really do, but god, it gets so old. I just want to be with you.”

“Sweetheart I can always come visit you,”

“I know but that’s not it. I wish I could be there for you more. And I wish I could be there for Aaliyah and m-my friends, but I cant be.”

His grip around you tightens and he moves his face to rest his chin on your shoulder. Your hand moves to run through his messy hair as he talks, knowing it’s the most comforting thing to him.

“Everyone has their whole lives; they have friends at their disposal, things they can do, and I’m just stuck.”

“mhm,” you hum, softly urging him to continue as you rock him gently.

“Sure I have my crew but other than that I feel like there’s just nothing. And everyone at home has a million other things to distract them and what if I get forgotten?”

He whimpers the last few words, almost ashamed to say it. Your heart breaks more with every sentence that flies out of his anxious mouth and you wish you could just silence his aching mind for him.

“I’m gone for so long, I don’t want everyone to forget about me.”

You grab his face in your hands again, peppering kisses to his forehead and down his damp cheeks. His sniffles continue as you search for the right words to say. Your mind is going a mile a minute as you try to comfort him.

“Nobody is gonna forget you, Shawn. You may not be able to be there physically but you’re always there. You always try your best and it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

He grumbles and rolls his eyes. His mind is doing everything to convince him that your words are untrue. He shakes his head and pulls away from your embrace, hiding his face in his palms.

“I-I’m not enough.”

You feel your heart hollow out at his confession. The pit in your stomach drops and your eyes start to fill with tears.

“Don’t say that,” you plead, “You are more than enough,”

You grab him up in your arms, holding him as tight as you could. He sighs, his body exhausted from the anxiety attack.

“I just feel so alone.”

“I know honey, but you aren’t. You’ve always got me.”

He sniffles and his gaze falls into his lap, avoiding your eyes. He hears you. You know he does. But he doesn’t necessarily believe those words.

“Shawny, how many times have I called you at ridiculous hours of the night crying over my bad day? How many times have I called you just to hear the sound of your voice?” you start, hoping you could break through his stubborn wall, “How many times have I called you just to fall asleep with you on the other end? You’re my person. My love, my light. You’re my go-to. My heart and my soul. You are everything. I could never forget you because I couldn’t imagine this world without you in it.”

His amber eyes have finally met yours, still brimming with tears. The hazel color was accentuated by the angry red color rimming them. His brows softened and his lip pouted out ever so slightly. A sigh leaves his tense body and you wipe the stray tear that has fallen to the tip of his nose.

“I would be lost without you, Shawn.”

“I love you,” he sniffles, “so much.”

“I know honey, I love you too. More than you know.”

You press a kiss against his swollen lips, tasting the salty tears that blanketed them. He softens even more at your affection, his body leaning into yours. Somehow a kiss from you heals the aches that settled deep in his bones and stops the worry in his mind. He feels healed. He feels at home.

“Your friends feel the same way too. Nobody will ever forget about you, bubba,” you let out a breathy chuckle, “Hell, all we do is wait around for you to get your ass home.”

You pinch his cheeks as he finally smiles softly, laughing at your words. His cheeks warm up and he hums, rolling his eyes. You press a few more kisses to his smiling lips and whisper how much you love him.

The two of you sit there for a moment, breathing each other in. His breath has finally evened out again and his heart is full of gratitude for you. Whenever his world is spinning, you somehow put it back on its axis. When he’s lost, you bring him home. You are his home.

“How about we lay down? You’re probably so tired, bubby.”

Shawn nods his head, shifting to lie back down. He looks like a puppy as he gets comfortable, reaching out for you to lay with him.

“One second, babe,” you say, standing up to grab his favorite candle.

You flick the lighter and bring it to the three wicks, setting it down on the bedside table. He smiles at your gesture and reaches back out to you. The warm scent fills your senses as you crawl back into the bed next to him.

He rolls onto his side, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chest.

“Can you hold me?” he asks, softly.

“Of course, honey.”

Your fingers threaded through his unruly hair, rubbing his scalp gently. You know how much it soothes him and you just want him to be comfortable. The TV was now softly playing in the background and his droopy eyes were watching the scene it displayed. You focused on playing with his hair, thinking over what just happened.

You laid there for a while, thinking he must’ve fallen asleep until he spoke,

“Why were you home? I thought you were with your friends?”

“I was,” you say, pressing a kiss to his hair, “but I just had a feeling that something was wrong. It was nagging at me all night and I just had to come home.”

Shawn’s heart flutters. He swears you two have a sixth sense for each other. There were so many cases of the two of you sensing the other's pain. Even little things, like saying the same thing at the same time, or one of you talking about something the other had just been thinking about. It used to freak you out, but you’ve come to love it. Shawn always made jokes when the odd instances happened, insisting that the two of you were ‘magic’

“You always know,” he murmurs, lifting his head to hover over you, “God, I love you.”

“What can I say? I’m magic,” you giggle, “Mmm, I love you too”

He kisses your lips slowly, radiating passion. Your lips move in sync, dancing together. His hands rub your waist as he deepens the kiss. He fills all your senses, making your head spin as your focus is on him, him, him.

His lips stay on yours for a while, trying to make up for the lost time as a result of his distance for the past few days. He’s got so much love he doesn’t know what to do with it all. The show playing on the TV is long forgotten by the time his loving kisses become lazier.

He slows down a bit and your hands play with his hair as you pull away.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, Shawny?”

He nods sleepily, his eyes suddenly too heavy to open. His head falls back into the crook of your neck and you feel his breath against your skin. His arm is wrapped tightly around you and your hand trails up and down it while the other plays with his hair. Soon he’s snoring lightly into your neck, and you smile down at him.

Things aren’t always easy for him. You know that. Even though he tries so hard to convince everyone otherwise. He has a bad habit of bottling things up but at least he has you. His love and his light. His go-to. His heart and his soul.

He always has you to remind him that he’ll never be alone.

#shawn mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes x you

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