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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hey I was wondering if you could write something kinda angsty but with a pretty ending with the cubs, I’m trynna project getting stood up and turning it into something nice and good, even if it’s just in my head. No pressure but I just wanna smile for a bit and your work always makes me do so :)))

Hello lovely! I’m so sorry that you were stood up--that feels awful and whoever did it missed out on a wonderful person. I’ve combined this with some other asks in the same vein (y’all wanted my boys to hurt) so I hope you don’t mind. Sending love and hugs your way! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

1. Bad mental health day for Finn + pushing himself too hard + passing out (ft. Bee anon!)

2. O’Knutzy boiling over with a fluffy ending

3. Insecure Leo

TW for internalized guilt, vaguely implied self-harm (pushing himself too hard at practice), and relationship arguments

Finn had a few bad habits. He left dirty dishes in the sink, could never remember which setting the laundry was supposed to go on, and barely wiped his shoes on the doormat before entering the house. He wasn’t proud of his flaws, but he acknowledged that everyone had some—as long as they didn’t hurt anybody, it wasn’t the end of the world.

This one…this one was different. Even Finn knew that.

He gritted his teeth for the next set of squats, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the climbing nausea in his gut. The chart only said to do three reps, but he had been beating himself up for slacking a set earlier in the week and decided to do five to make up for it.

That, it seemed, was a poor decision.

His thighs were shaking when he finally put the weight down and he leaned on the wall to stabilize himself. “Fish? You okay?” Logan asked from the yoga mat to his right, staring up at him in concern.

“I’m fine,” Finn lied. “Just straightened up too fast.”

“D’accord.” He could feel Logan’s eyes on his back as he left the gym and headed toward the showers.

Finn’s worst habit was taking care of himself, and it wasn’t something that could be explained away as “oh, silly Harzy” like the washing machine. He made a mental note to take some ibuprofen before driving home so he would be marginally less sore in the morning, but he had the sinking feeling it would be a rough practice the next day.

Remus and Talker were playing some sort of volleyball with an old balloon between their stalls when he entered; he missed getting nailed in the head by a narrow margin and waved off their apologies with a forced smile.

A hand closed around his bicep as he passed, snapping him back to reality as Leo’s bright eyes came into focus. “Hey, lovey, is Lo with you?”

“He’s finishing up.”

A small furrow appeared between Leo’s brows. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.” Finn faked a yawn and stretched his arm over Leo’s shoulder, dragging him down for a kiss on the cheek. “Cap’s workout just kicked my ass today.”

“That’s what they’re supposed to do,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes playfully as he passed. “You’re not a rookie anymore, O’Hara.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Logan entered the locker room a few minutes later; Finn closed his eyes and breathed in the thick steam of the shower until the fog in his head cleared a bit and he couldn’t feel the skin on his shoulders. It billowed off him as he dressed again and tossed the keys to Leo, who raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“You. There’s a little bit of slush left, and you still need to learn how to drive in it.” And I feel like I’m going to pass out at any minute. He swallowed down the last thought and pasted a teasing grin on his face—what Leo and Logan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. It was his own fault for being lazy in the past.

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

What Leo and Logan didn’t know apparently did hurt them. In hindsight, Finn should have seen that coming before he passed out in the middle of a scrimmage.

The lights of the coach’s office made his headache even worse. “Care to explain?” Arthur asked in a voice like frost. To his left, Sirius was glowering.

“I already told Hestia—”

“Yeah, I know what you told Hestia,” Arthur interrupted. “I want to hear it directly from you.”

Finn sighed through his nose and picked at a stray thread on his jersey. “I…I pushed myself a little too hard at yesterday’s practice and didn’t say anything when I started feeling bad.”

“Why.” Sirius’ eyes were hard as flint.

“Because I didn’t want to be a pain in the ass! I can handle some aching muscles, it’s not a big deal!”

“Not a—”

Arthur put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “That’s enough, Black. O’Hara, I want you to look me in the eyes.” Finn raised his head. “This was a dumbass mistake and all of us expected better from you. Your safety and health come before any workout routine, and it is your responsibility to speak up before you scare the shit out of us by dropping like a rock.”

“I’m sorry, Coach.”

“Apology accepted. I also want you to call Heather when you get home and schedule an appointment with her.” Some of Arthur’s frustration melted into genuine concern and guilt crawled up Finn’s throat. “Doing that to yourself isn’t healthy, Finn. You’re a good man, smart, and I know you know better.”

“Can we talk for a second?” Sirius asked quietly, glancing at Arthur. He nodded and left the room.

“I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck, Finn?” Sirius ran a hand down his face, suddenly pale. “What the fuck was that?”

“It was stupid.”

“Yeah, no, I got that part.”

“I slacked off a set on Monday.”

“Wow, nobody’s ever done that before,” he said sarcastically, sitting down in the chair by the wall as Finn resumed messing with his hem. “You scared the hell out of all of us.”

“I know.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right? I’m upset that you thought you had to do that at all.”

Tears prickled the backs of Finn’s eyes. “I know.”

“I’m sure as hell not your coach or your dad, but I’m going to say this as your friend, okay?” Sirius leaned over into Finn’s field of view. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you. This team wouldn’t be the same without you. I wouldn’t be the same without you. We need you to take care of yourself, Harzy.”

Finn nodded silently and Sirius gave his hand a quick squeeze, which he returned. “Does everyone know?”

“I told them you were under the weather, nothing more.”

“Classic media answer.” He tried and failed to crack a smile. “Thanks for not telling on me.”

“That’s not my job. My job is herding cats on ice skates for five hours a day.”

Finn’s smile was real that time and he managed a light laugh as he swiped away the dampness on his cheeks. “Love you, man.”

“Love you, too.” Sirius helped him stand up and hugged him tight for a second before letting go. “Speaking as someone who used to do the exact same thing, talking to Heather makes a world of difference.”

“I’ll give her a call.”

The cold feeling returned to Finn’s gut when they stepped out of the office; Leo and Logan were waiting by the opposite wall, looking angrier than Finn had ever seen. Sirius patted his shoulder once before walking off down the hallway toward the locker room, where he would no doubt deflect even more questions.

“Hey,” Finn said, barely above a whisper. Logan continued to stare at the ground.

“You lied to us,” Leo said bluntly. “Several times. Both of us asked if you were alright and you told us you were fine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology, but I don’t understand.” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Finn, this isn’t how we deal with things. We agreed to be a team.”

Finn bit his lip. I fucked this one up. “We did. I am so sorry for scaring you—”

“We’re not mad that you scared us,” Logan snapped, still looking anywhere but his face. “We’re upset that you refuse to take care of yourself and then lied to us about it.”

Leo nudged Logan’s shoulder before turning back. “Why did you do that, Finn?”

“I didn’t want to fall behind. I was just trying to make up for the set I skipped on Monday.”

“What? Twenty squats and some pushups? That’s not worth your health, honey.” The pet name soothed the terror clutching Finn’s heart and he took a deep breath. They still loved him. This wasn’t the end.

“It was a stupid thing to do and it won’t happen again.”

“Good. Let’s go home.” Logan grabbed his duffel bag off the ground and started walking toward the door; Leo looked like he was going to say something, but Finn gently took his elbow.

“He’s going to need a minute,” he said under his breath. Logan was a hothead about many things, but lying was in the top three. Finn knew he hurt him deep.

“Did you…” Leo trailed off and pressed his lips together as they followed Logan into the parking lot. “Did you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”

Finn shook his head. “No. This was all on me.”

“It’s just that I know I’m younger than both of you and I’m new to the hockey lifestyle, but I never want you to think you can’t trust me—”

“Leo.” Finn stopped walking and tugged on Leo’s hand, turning him around. Worry was painted all over his face and it sliced to Finn’s core. “I trust you and Logan with everything, but I got into my head about this and I wasn’t thinking about how it would hurt you. Please believe that.”

Leo sighed. “I do. I just don’t get it.”

“Neither do I, to be honest.” Logan was already sitting in the car with his headphones on as they crossed the lot. “It’s going to take him a while to talk to me, isn’t it?”

“He was really upset.”

“We’ll figure this out.” He tightened his grip on Leo’s hand. “We’ve made it through worse.”

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

The apartment crackled with tension until Finn literally had to stick his head out the open window to get a breath of fresh air. Waves of frustration and hurt rolled off Logan, though he still refused to look Finn in the eyes.

After dinner, Leo slid into the armchair before Logan could get there, leaving only the couch available. They carefully sat on opposite sides—Finn stole glances at Logan out of the corner of his eye for the entire first half of the movie. Ninety minutes of action later, he felt something chilly poking at his calf.

Logan kept his gaze trained on the TV as he scooted his freezing toes under Finn’s legs. Relief flooded Finn’s veins; he felt a little like crying, but instead schooled his expression into a small smile and rested his hand on Logan’s ankle, where it stayed until the movie ended.

Leo had fallen asleep by that time, splayed out sideways on the cushion with his face smushed against the armrest. “Il est mignon,” Logan said softly. There was a beat of silence and he looked over at Finn. “He’s cute.”

“He is.” Finn cleared his throat and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lo. I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry.”

“Promise me you won’t do that again.”

“I won’t.”

Finn had a few bad habits, but backing out on his promises would never be one of them.

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levithestripper · 3 years

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Hello My Old Heart

a/n: I felt it was only right to commemorate the final chapter of Attack on Titan with an angst fic about the last chapter. listen to Hello My Old Heart by The Oh Hellos while reading for the full experience!

✩ warnings: chapter 139 spoilers, talk of character death. ✩

✩ taglist: @myglitteringstardust @alicchi @sleepysnk @waywardsongbird3 ✩

✩ If you want to be added to a taglist, fill this out! ✩

Hello, my old heart, how have you been?

Footsteps clacked against the stone ground. The steam cleared, showing off Mikasa gently cradling Eren’s severed head. Mikasa was disturbingly calm. As if the trauma of it all desensitized her to the realities of Eren’s death. That she’s never going to be able to see that cute kid he was again. Or hear the determined sound of his voice, like when he finally mastered his broken ODM Gear. Or hear his laughter after pulling a prank on Jean. It’s like she still thought he was here. Eren did everything in his power to keep her safe, to keep her alive. To keep them all alive.

Eren told her that he wants her to forget about him when he dies. Wanted her to throw away that old red scarf of hers, to truly leave him behind. Leave him behind, dead and cold in his grave. To forget about him and move on with her life. To find someone so much better, someone so much better for her than he could ever be. Eren loved her with all of his heart. Loved her more than himself at some points. He built up walls around her to keep her safe, to keep her safe from anyone that tried to hurt her.

Are you still there inside my chest?

Armin crumbled to the floor in front of her, sobs wracking his body. His brother was dead. His brother was dead. His brother was dead. His decapitated head was sitting right in front of him. His head should still be on his body! Eren should still be here! He has to still be alive, what is he going to do without him? Eren needs to be here, he needs his brother! Eren was always there to pick him up, to push him forwards, gave him confidence when he was bullied and made fun of. What was he going to do without him now? Eren was the whole reason why he pursued that stupid, stupid dream of his. Armin clutched his brother's head against his chest, hunched over as he wailed. Thick tears streamed down his face, dripping down his chin, some even getting in his mouth. His blond hair stuck to his forehead, matted down with sweat and dirt. Why does all of his family leave him alone? Why is he always alone in this world?

I've been so worried, you've been so still

Barely beating at all

Eren used to sit under that tree and talk with Armin for hours, just as long as they were both back home before dinnertime. Armin would bring his book and read to him, talking all about the oceans full of sand, water so salty that no merchant could collect it all. Sometimes, Eren would bring the action figures his father bought for him when he went on trips to the Capitol. They’d run around and laugh till the sunset, dreaming of the day that they both could see the pictures in Armin’s book for real.

When the Survey Corps finally made it to the sea was the last good memory they all collectively had together. Back when everyone was still alive. Back when Sasha and Hange were around before Levi was injured. Before Eren became the monster he ended up as. Armin often found himself looking back at it, remembering when he sat in the shallow water, laughing with Mikasa and freaking out over sea creatures with Eren. He remembered Jean and Connie dunking each other under the waves, gasping when they swallowed some and found out how salty it was. How Levi was still looking after and protecting Hange from injuring herself again. Oh, if he could only go back to those days. He missed those days, seeing Sasha always smiling so brightly, listening to Hange frantically going on and on about a theory they had.

He thinks back to their days in training, how young they all were still. How young and naive they were to the things ahead of them. When Jean was still an asshole when Marco was still alive. Before Reiner, Annie, and Bertolt were all out as traitors. They were so, so ignorant to the world around them, to what was going on. But he wouldn’t have had it any other way. If given the chance, he wouldn’t have done anything differently.

Oh, don't leave me here alone

Don't tell me that we've grown

After Eren’s funeral, Jean had pulled Armin off to the side, wanting to reminisce about the old days.

“Do you remember that one time in our third year of training, right before we graduated, the prank Marco pulled on me?” Jean asked with a chuckle. They were sitting where the Yeager household used to be. It was still in shambles, the roof was still caved in, cobblestone porch crumbling as they walked on it. They sat on the edge of it, feet dangling, soles of their shoes scraping the dirt. “He filled my pillowcase with and bed sheets with itching powder, so when I got up in the morning I’d itch myself raw from how much he used. When we had to line up for roll call that morning, I couldn’t stop moving so Shadis made me run until I passed out.”

Armin nodded, rolling a pebble around in the palm of his hands. “That was a fun day. I’ve never seen someone strip that fast before. You came back and were practically throwing your uniform off as you ran to the pond right outside of camp.” He looked up at him, the smallest of smiles on his face. They were both dressed in suits, white dress shirts, and black ties, with matching shiny back dress shoes. Jean’s hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, a little tuft of fluffy hair on the back of his head. He had shaved his undercut again, looking a little bit like his old fifteen-year-old self again. Jean had shaved Armin’s undercut as well, helping him clean up his look a bit.

“Oh! Or that time when I dared Eren to get Captain Levi to crack a raw egg on his own head?” Armin laughed softly, smiling up at Jean as he spoke. “Eren-Eren he walked up to him and handed him the egg, you know? And said ‘Hey, Captain Levi! I need you to hold out your hand for me! Now close your eyes!’ And Captain actually did it! Then Eren positioned his hand above his head and told him to let go!” Jean had a huge grin spread across his face, one that Armin hadn’t seen in a while. He missed it. It was nice to finally hear Jean laughing again. It was nice seeing the little crinkles that form in the corner of his eyes when he smiles too hard. Little lines were coming in around his mouth now too. He seemed so much older than he used to.

“Remember right before graduation, the night before the Trost attack, when we all snuck into the girls' barracks and had a sleepover? You tried so hard to sleep the closest to Mikasa’s bunk.” Armin laughed this time, his eyes shining again if you looked real hard. “To think that was the last normal night we had before everything changed. The last night we still had everyone around. Before Marco died.” Jean looked down at his lap, playing with his right hand. “I know he was cremated, but did you ever make a memorial of sorts somewhere for him?”

He shook his head solemnly. “I didn’t have the chance. I thought about it, but no place was good enough. Marco deserved so much more than I could give him, I couldn’t find a place that deserved his presence.” He looked up again, turning to face Armin. “His mother made one in her backyard, I might do the same, now that I'm back home."

"I miss him, Jean." Armin wiped at his cheek, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over. "I miss Sasha, I miss Hange, I miss Erwin!" The tears started readily flowing now, dripping off his chin and onto the stone below him. He hiccuped and sniffled, voice wobbly. "I miss my brother, Jean. I want my brother back. Why did they take him from me! I still need him, I-I can-can't do this without him!"

Jean pulled Armin close to his side by his shoulder, rubbing the top of his back, slowly moving up and down to soothe him. "Shhh, shhh. It's okay, it's okay. Let it all out, alright?" Jean rubbed his arm, going back and forth from his arm to his back. "I know, Armin. I miss him too. I miss him too. But it's going to get better. I promise you, it's going to get better. Here, look at me." He placed his index finger under Armin's chin, tilting his head so he's forced to look him in the eyes. "Eren might be gone from this world, but it doesn't mean he left completely. He's still alive here." He pressed his palm to Armin's chest, right over his heart. "He trusted you with saving humanity. He knows he can trust you to keep his memory alive. You'll see them all again when it's your turn to leave. They'll all be there waiting for you. Eren will be right there, holding out his hand for you to take like he did when you were little."

Armin had managed to keep his composure throughout the funeral. He stood up straight, looked forward, and participated without any hesitation. Although if you looked at his face, you could see the cracks in his mask. Could see the tears looming in the distance, how his straight face wanted to fade into a shaky frown. You could see how hard he wanted to break down and cry. How he wanted to collapse onto his knees and beg for whoever was up above to bring Eren back to him. Mikasa, on the other hand, was a mess. She had her scarf wrapped up around her face, covering her mouth. Her tears made the fabric discolored and soppy.

“Tha-Thank you, Jean. You alwa-always know what to say to make me feel better.” He chuckled sadly. “You’re too good at making me feel better. I shouldn’t be falling apart like this.” His hiccuping started to stop, tears slowing as well. Armin took Jean’s hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs against the meat of his palms. “Thank you for always being here for me.” He smiled up at him the best he could.

Jean enveloped Armin’s hands in his own, completely dwarfing his. “Don’t ever apologize to me about your emotions. Ever. They’re expected to happen in times like this, okay? It’s okay for you to cry even when the seems to be no reason to.” He stroked his thumbs over the backs of Armin’s hands. “I’ll always be here for you, okay? No matter what. Call me and I’ll come running.”

For having loved a little while

Oh, I don't wanna be alone, I wanna find a home

And I wanna share it with you

After a while, Jean and Armin went back to where the funeral had taken place. Mikasa was still there, waiting for them to return. From there, they and the rest of their family walked behind the trio, up to the tree on that hill Eren loved so much. It was sunny out, just like how it was when they were little. Accept this time, there wasn’t a giant wall blocking Eren’s view anymore.

Reiner and Jean dug Eren’s grave. His casket was deep mahogany, the wood polished and shiny. Although, it was smaller than a normal casket should be. Eren’s head was the only thing they could bury so it was more like a small box. Mikasa was the one to lower Eren into the ground, setting him down gently in the almost six-foot hole. When they filled the dirt back in, it seemed like there was too much dirt to fit the hole they had dug. A large mound of it was piled on top of the grave, too large to put the headstone on yet. Everyone went home after that, heading off to their respective homes to leave Mikasa to grieve in peace.

She remembers the cabin in the woods from her dream with Eren. Remembers how happy they seemed to be together. She wishes that they really could just run away still, run away and live together forever, maybe have a couple of kids too. Eren never talked about having children, but she hoped that he would give her some anyways. Eren would’ve been a good father, better than Grisha, at least.

Mikasa pulled the scarf off from around her neck, clutching it in her hands. All she seemed to be able to do was stare at it, hoping something good would come from it. She stroked the fabric with her dirty thumb, pressing it to her face. It’s almost like she could feel Eren wrapping it around her for the first time again. Could feel him taking her hand as he walked her back to his house for the first time. When she first met Armin, she was holding Eren’s hand too. Seems like he always had a thing for protecting her, even if it was just from possibly walking too far out into the street, huh?

Hello, my old heart

Mikasa stared up at the sky. The sun was out and a few clouds were here and there. These were the kinds of days that Eren loved the most, especially when he was little. When his mother called him inside for dinner, he’d beg to eat outside, or at least if he and Mikasa could eat outside. More often than not, he was forced inside to sit at the table with the rest of his family. That kid could never be contained, always wanted to be running somewhere, exploring something, finding something new, it didn’t matter what it was. Just mattered that he had Mikasa with him.

It's been so long

At this point, she barely remembered her parents. Her earliest memory was when Eren came and saved her, sweeping her off her feet in the most ten-year-old boy way possible. She remembers that rush of power standing in that house. Thinking to herself, why is my body moving on my own like this? Why, why does my head hurt so suddenly? Where’s mom and dad? Why’d they have to leave so soon? Then after that, all that's there is Eren. Ten-year-old Eren, twelve-year-old Eren, fifteen-year-old Eren, nineteen-year-old Eren. All with a shining light behind him. A proud look on his face, a determined expression. A face that tells you everything is going to be okay, that he’s going to fix everything for you to keep you safe.

Since I've given you away

There was no more Yeager family anymore. All of them were gone. She doesn’t know if she can even consider herself a Yeager. Carla always said she was her daughter, but she never really embraced it. But if the Yeager’s aren’t here to tell their stories, who will?

After all, he became the devil so she could become an angel. And what kind of angel would she be if she didn’t live? She fought, she won, now she can live. She doesn’t have to be strong anymore. She sniffled softly, hands coming up to her face, covering her eyes. Tears came soon after, pooling in the palms of her hands and pulling out from the sides. Her body shook slightly from her sobs, her back quivered and her shoulders shuddered from the intensity of them. Her knees got pulled up to her chest, her head moving to rest on them. “…I can’t believe you’re gone for real this time, Eren… You said you’d wrap this scarf around me every time I asked, now how will you?”

And every day, I add another stone, to the walls I built around you

To keep you safe

Squawking of birds could be heard from above. A group of Arctic Jaeger’s were circling the tree, crying out their songs for one another. One of them flew down closer to Mikasa, landing on top of Eren’s grave. It looked over at her, chattering softly. The bird hopped up and down the best it could, trying to get her attention. It flapped its wings, moving over to sit on the crest of her knee. Its beak nudged her hand, making Mikasa look at it. The bird tilted its head back and forth at her, seemingly trying to smile. The bird bobbed its head, leaning in to press the side of its head to her cheek. It seemed like it wanted to wipe her tears away, but unable to since it didn’t have hands to cup her face with, or thumbs to stroke the apples of her cheeks. Mikasa held the bird close, carefully stoking its wings and back. “Thank you for wrapping this scarf around me, Eren.”

The bird wiggled around until Mikasa let it go, watching it fly off to meet up with its friends in the sky. It chirped a sweet goodbye to her, waiting until Mikasa waved before leaving completely.

Nothing lasts forever

Some things aren't meant to be

But you'll never find the answers

Until you set your old heart free

“Thank you, Eren, for everything.”

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beauvibaby · 4 years

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forever? – m.barzal

Request: Can I request a mat barzal imagine?? Literally anything bc I love him and your writing so much!!

a/n: I struggled for a while on what to write so I settled on something fluffy bc I need more fluff in my life 🙃

“Mat?” You called, walking into the apartment, you heard him mutter under his breath from the living room. “Hi, hey, you’re home early.” He rushed around the corner to greet you, he looked a little nervous, and it was making you uneasy. “Girls night, remember?” You quizzed slightly raising an eyebrow as he leaned in to kiss you. “Right, right.” He mumbled once he pulled back, he looked at you, and there was something in his eyes you couldn't quite decipher, and it was making your stomach turn. Why had he panicked when you got home? You pushed the thoughts aside, not wanting to ruin the good day you’ve had. “I’m going to go get ready.” You told him, pulling away from his soft grip, “alright.” He sighed, watching you walk off, you heard him practically run into the living room after you disappeared down the hall, you froze, listening carefully, you knew you shouldn't but you were only human. “Shit, where is it?” He whispered to himself. “Did you say something?” You called out and heard him inhale sharply, “just talking to myself!” He responded with a laugh. You sighed and finally trudged into the bedroom, digging out your favorite jeans and a cute top, laying it out on the bed as you went to shower.

You jumped as you turned towards the bedroom door after giving your hair a final adjustment, “Mat, you scared me.” You laughed softly, you caught him eyeing you. “Sorry, just admiring how beautiful my girlfriend is.” He smirked, you rolled your eyes allowing him to pull you in for a hug and a quick kiss to your forehead. “I know, ‘you’re going to ruin my lipstick’.” He quoted you, smiling down at you lovingly. “Would you look at that, you’re learning.” You teased him, stepping back you did a little twirl. “How do I look?” You questioned, smoothing out the shirt, glancing down at the heels strapped to your feet. “Sexy.” He leaned his head against the doorframe giving you another once over. You laughed, “I’ll be on my best behavior, promise.” You retorted, shooting him a wink as you walked past him. It was a joke, you both always had when you were going out without each other. You both trusted the other whole heartedly. “Oh, I’m so worried.” He laughed softly behind you, he sighed as you grabbed your small clutch, throwing your house keys in it, and your phone and some extra cash. “I shouldn’t be too late, but you don't have to wait up for me.” You spoke as you opened the door. “You know I’m going to wait for you.” He teased, “I love you.” You sang walking out the door, “I love you too.” He responded, laughing at your little antics.

Way too many shots later, you were nearly in tears as your girlfriends who were slightly less drunk than you watched on. “He was acting so weird, like he was hiding something!” You slurred out, furiously wiping at your eyes, only to laugh dryly when you realized you hadn't actually started crying. “Oh honey, I’m sure its nothing.” Y/F/N assured you, patting your shoulder. “I’m not putting you in an uber, no way.” She snatched your phone away, a little smirk working its way to her face, “I’ll just call Mat to come get you. You’ve had more than enough.” She sighed, your two other friends nodding as they slid the glass away from you, now the embarrassment set in, you’ve been with Mat for longer than you could remember. But you were still embarrassed with how drunk you had gotten. “Yeah, she’s fine, well, she’s totally shit faced, but I think you should come get her.” You heard her talking to Mat. Your phone landing back in your clutch shortly after. “He’s on the way, he freaked out when he heard me, thought I let you get kidnapped or something.” She teased, nudging you softly. “Whatever he was being weird about, I’m sure its something good, he’s so in love with you.” She calmed your nerves slightly, “lets head outside.” She stood, groaning when you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her most of your weight as your other friends laughed holding the door open for the two of you.

“Hi princess.” Mat laughed softly when your eyes fluttered open in the elevator, he was carrying you bridal style. You didn’t even remember him getting you from the bar. You stayed silent, your mind racing with ideas, you hid your face in his neck as he started walking down the hall. “You fell asleep in the car, how you feeling?” He mumbled, carefully lowering you to your feet so he could unlock the apartment door. You stayed glued to his side, not trusting yourself to speak. You were pretty emotional to begin with, but when you were drunk, forget it, you’d think someone told you your mom just died the way you could cry. “Y/N.” He sighed when you didn't speak, forcing yourself to walk somewhat straight, you could hear him following behind you, “I’m fine.” You tried to speak clearly but your voice cracked. He hummed knowingly, “talk to me.” He pried, grabbing your waist softly. You looked up in the mirror against the wall in the corner, he was already looking at you in it as his chin rested on your shoulder. “You were so jumpy when I got home from work, and I guess it just worried me.” You spoke slowly, taking a shaky breath here and there. He frowned as you squeezed your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep the cry from falling out. He turned you in his grasp. “Look at me, baby.” He sighed, cupping your face, you opened your eyes, blinking a couple of times to get your eyes to focus on him. “I promise it’s nothing you need to worry about. It’s a surprise.” He trailed off, you loved a good surprise so he knew that would get you off his case. You laughed tearfully, “I must look so stupid.” You pulled from his grasp, nearly falling as your heel sunk into the plush rug on the ground, he grabbed your arms steadying you. “Sit.” He demanded gently, he kneeled on the ground in front of you, undoing the straps of your shoes as you sat with a huff. He removed the shoes, tossing them aside before rising to his feet, and slipping your shirt off over your head, you giggled shamelessly, he shook his head with a soft smile. “You’re something else.” He teased softly, helping you get ready for bed, he left a lingering kiss on your lips before going to get ready himself as you drifted off.

***

That was nearly two months ago, and you still wondered daily what the surprise is, and when you would get it. You never brought it up, and neither did he, probably thinking you were too drunk to remember.

“Oh!” You gasped, jumping when two arms wrapped around your waist, you leaned into his touch, relishing in the fact that he was home from an away string of games. “You’re early.” You grinned turning around to face him, he had a goofy grin on his face, “I wanted to surprise you.” He mumbled, pulling you in for a kiss, you happily obliged, sighing against him. “I got you something.” He raised an eyebrow as he spoke, you mirrored his face, “do I get to see it?” You teased, biting your lip afterwards. He nodded enthusiastically, holding up his finger in a hold on motion. He all but sprinted down the hall, you watched with a confused but huge smile as he dug around in your room, you stood patiently in the kitchen, taking a sip of your water as he ran back out. “So, I was going to hold on to this for a while, until, well, I don't really know when.” He paused, running a hand through his hair, you could tell he was nervous and your heart skipped a beat, he couldn't be doing what you thought he was doing. “But being away from you for this past week, as short as that might have been, it made me realize how dumb it is to wait, and to try and make it perfect, because I know you, and I know you hate those big cheesy proposals.” He sunk down to one knee and your hands shot to your mouth, you were already nodding your head. “Hang on.” He laughed softly, looking a little more relieved at your reaction thus far. “Y/N, I really want to spend the rest of my life, forever, with you. Will you marry me?” He popped the box open, and you gasped, it was beautiful, the dream ring you had always subtly pointed out. “Yes!” You all but shouted, dropping down to the floor with him. He shakily slipped the ring on your finger, you admired it for a split second before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” You repeated, pulling away in shock. “Is this the surprise you told me about months ago?” You asked after a few more kisses being stolen as you both kneeled on the kitchen floor. Mat hung his head back in laughter. “You remember that?” He managed to get out between laughs, you nodded, “of course I remember.” You whispered, resting your forehead against his. “I always remember.”

Taglist: @thathockeygirl @literarycharleton

#Mathew barzal #mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat Barzal fluff #new york islanders #New York Islanders writing #Mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal imagines #nhl writing

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koko-bopp · 4 years

Text

Exposé

min yoongi x jeon jungkook x male!reader

word count – 4K

genre – Angst, fluff

warning(s) – argument scene, mentions of homophobia and racism,

synopsis – An incident happened where your boyfriends had had an interview on national television, and one of them publicized your relationship with then. You're the manager of Bangtan, so your concern fell on your job, your relationship, and your life, but also what it meant for the jobs, lives and relationship of your boyfriends.

A/N – for @thatcucumberwhore :))

"Are you guys fucking kidding me?"

Jungkook accidently jumped at the tone of your voice, though Yoongi seemed less surprised. You'd come in practically throwing down the door of you and your boyfriends' apartment, and that being said, you weren't surprised that Jungkook jolted at the noise, it was unlike you.

"Hyung, er–" Jungkook tried his best to speak up, but was cut off quite quickly.

"I'll get to you later," You snapped, and your attention was fixed on Yoongi. He stayed silent, which is a habit that seems to occur whenever he was nervous, but you were fuming, barely thinking about what your boyfriends' might be thinking. "What the fuck, Yoongi. What the actual fuck, you can't just announce shit without–"

"I did," Yoongi argued, standing up from the couch, looking up at you in anger, "And frankly, so did Jungkook, and you knew damn fucking well it was gonna happen anyway."

"You didn't fucking consult me, Yoongi," You grinded your teeth down, doing your best not to react irrationally, "You can't just make decisions because you feel like it, that fucking stunt could've cost us our job!"

Yoongi had no trouble talking back, "Well, it didn't."

Jungkook went in the middle of you two, clearly anxious and panicking, not knowing how to properly resolve the argument. "Guys, please can we just–"

"No," You snapped, slapping away Jungkook's hand before glaring at him. Honestly, you were so insulted by Yoongi's recklessness, and especially because you're the manager of Bangtan, you had no idea what this meant for your career, but not only yours, Yoongi's and Jungkook's too, "You do understand that our boyfriend just outed us on live television, right? South Korean. Television. Where marital relationships like ours aren't recognised by law."

Yoongi grapped your wrist, forcing you to look at him, "How long were you expecting us to keep this a secret?"

"As long as it kept us safe," You spat.

"Even if it was taking a toll on our mental health?" Yoongi said, almost too calmly, "Not everyone can keep themselves sane enough when it comes to this shit, [Y/N]."

You frowned and just stared at Yoongi.

"Mind you, your job is to look after us as well," Yoongi added.

"That requires you to fucking talk to me, Suga," The anger became evident, especially for Jungkook, because you only call Yoongi by his stage name in a professional setting, never outside of it, "Not snake around and leave things up to you."

You ripped Yoongi's grip on your wrist, taking one last glance at Jungkook before getting your jacket from the hanger.

Clearly, staying in the apartment wouldn't do your anger any good, leaving before the water begins to tip was probably the best option. You didn't look at your boyfriends', just spoke, "I'm staying at Jin's. Don't call me."

✨

"You might as well change your Facebook status to 'complicated', and start feeding my cat, bro," Jin said from the kitchen, "You've been living on my couch for four days. Four days. I don't see why you can't just talk to them."

"I don't know..." You huffed, "Bro I deleted all my social media, and I haven't even opened the television for the last few days...I've yet to cop it from PD, though. God knows what he's thinking."

"Yeah, and no offence, you and your whole, 'Im gonna pretend I'm not bothered by acting so overly professional in the workplace with my boyfriends' isn't proof that you're unbothered. It's proof that this is effecting you," Jin walked into the living room, who beers in hand as he did. He tried handing you one, though you rejected the offer, wanting to remain sober while you're still upset.

Your bestfriend, after your boyfriends, is the eldest member of Bangtan. Partly because you two are the same age, you being just a bit older than Jin, but despite that, you two understood each other well. Also, another reason that your relationship with him is so good is because it's the best entertainment to be around Kim Seokjin, the sarcasm is inevitable.

"Look, I get what Yoongs was thinking, but I also get they you may not have been ready, but I also think you just shouldn't give a shit about what people have to say about you," Jin placed his input, sitting down on the couch near you, throwing a leg over the other, taking a swift sip of the beer. "And that's coming from singer that racists and homophobes hate, those fucks on twitter are the worst."

You laughed at his reasoning, your eyes fixed on the loose string on the knee of your jeans. They're ripped jeans, they're supposed to be there, but it bothered you. "I'm still mad that they didn't ask me about it first.."

"No, that's fair. You feel lied to, I get that," Jin responded, "But, people make mistakes."

You scoffed, "Not like this, I don't put people's lives on the line," You shook your head, running your thumb on the bottom of your lip for a second, "This is Seoul, it's super hard to get a job, it's worse if you're not straight, even worse if you're not pale."

"Yeah," Jin agreed, "But in your case. What radical fan is gonna let Jungkook and Yoongi leave– no– get kicked out of BTS? You know how fucking mad people would be? ARMY would literally boycott BigHit. But let's say it's you who needs to leave, those two would quit their jobs in a fucking heartbeat, people would still be mad at BigHit, and more accepting companies would do anything to have those two in their company."

You smirked in amusement. It sounded true, those two are the biases of a lot of fans, people would pissed.

"And to add onto that," Jin continued, "Bangtan would be mad. You think any of us would put our jobs over our bestfriends' happiness? No fucking way. We're wanted eveywhere, it would take an email and two phone calls to get us a job somewhere else."

You smiled at that, but you remained silent, it was always nice talking to Jin. He was always honest. You lifted your head up to look at your best friend, a little hesitant to give a response, "Do you... Do you think I should..."

"You still got it?"

"Both of them. Always."

"Yeah. They still love you, I wasn't gonna tell you, but I'm pretty sure Yoongi was crying about it."

You stood up from your seat immediately, throwing a pillow at Jin, "You bafoon! You didn't think to fucking tell me?!"

"Ow! I still have a beer!" Jin defended in a protective, half-ninja pose to protect himself from more pillows, stretch his hand to keep his beer alive and unspilt on his leather couch. "Just remember that they need to apologize too, it's not all your fault. Go and see your mans'."

You didn't waste another moment. You throw your jacket over your shoulder and quickly grabbed the keys to your car, slipping on your shoes and racing to get into your car.

The apartment, thankfully, wasn't far, and you know the city of Seoul like the back of your hand so getting there wasn't an issue, it was more about emotionally preparing yourself.

It wasn't as if you thought about what you were gonna say, but hearing that one of your boyfriends who are always so strong broke down crying wasn't a 'think-first-act-later' moment. Jungkook, god, and Jungkook, you'd yet to figure out how he's been handling everything, but you know for Yoongi's sake, he'd try to be staying as strong for him as possible.

You'd gotten three texts from Jungkook in the last four days. One apology, a sticker, and an 'i love you', but your stubborn trait got the best of you. Now having a silent moment, you wish you'd responded.

"Hyung..?"

You didn't know what to say, but you were standing at the door of your apartment with Jungkook in front of you.

You could tell he was hoping for this, he just didn't know when.

He threw his arms around your shoulders, catching you off guard, but as soon as you'd regained your senses, you returned the embrace just as tight as he'd given it. He had his face buried into your shoulder, one hand in your hair trying to remember the feel he thought he'd forgotten, "I thought you were leaving us..." He whispered, holding back a sob.

"Jungkook, I'm so so sorry, I overreacted. I was being a jerk and–" You spewed, but was interrupted when your boyfriend shook his head.

"No, no– I'm sorry too, I thought we were doing the right thing and–" He accidently sniffled, a tear falling down his cheek, "–Ah, fuck... Jagi, I'm just so glad you're back."

You kissed Jungkook's cheek from where he was, bringing your hand up to cradle his head lovingly.

You'd do anything for Jungkook, hes your boyfriend and you love him so much.

You continued to embrace Jungkook, before speaking in a small whisper, "... Kookie, baby... Is Yoongs okay?"

Jungkook pulled away from the embrace slightly, but your hands were still on his waist. The younger wipes the tear stain on his cheek first, "He's had better days... A lot of better days."

"How bad?"

"Remember when Namjoon-hyung and him fought that one time?"

"Oh no."

"Yeah.. But this time it's more heartbreak than anger. I think you'll be fine."

You kissed Jungkook one more time, smiling at hin before hesitantly letting go to head towards Yoongi's room.

You made it three quarters of the way there, then saw the 'go away' mat in front of his door with the cat flipping the finger. It made you chuckle, knowing that then Yoongi had bought it despite the fact that nobody is allowed to walk into the house without socks.

Yoongi does things because something tells him it's the right thing to do. He doesn't act then think, he'll probably think for years and the finally act.

"Jagi..." You knocked gently on your boyfriend's door, "Yoon. It's me... Please open–"

Your request was filled before it was finished, the door swang open to reveal a rather teary Min Yoongi, and your heart didn't handle it well. But you probably didn't notice it well enough, because he threw his arms around your neck almost immediately after. He begun sobbing into your collar with his hands gripping the back of your shirt like you'd run away if he let go. He spoke through tears, "[Y/N], I'm so sorry, I didn't think about how you'd feel and," He sobbed, "But please, p-please don't leave again. I thought–"

"Shhh, baby, breathe for me," You said softly, kissing his forehead as a way to comfort him, before pulling away to look at your boyfriend, holding both of his hands in yours, "Yoongs, it's okay, I'm sorry too, and I know this is something we can work around because I love both of you so so much."

You motioned for Jungkook to come too, watching him walk over then holding his hands too.

It took only a second to exhale, but it seemed too long, "I love you two more than anything in this world. You're more important to me than my job, than my pet–"

Jungkook gasped, "Don't say that! Fluff is a beautiful pet!"

You laughed, and Yoongi didn't stop himself from giggling, but you continued, "Regardless, you two are the best thing that's ever happened to me, that I get to see your faces in the morning is a blessing enough." Jungkook was getting teary and Yoongi was holding back tears as much as he could, but you continued, "You're my heaven on earth. I want to be able to spend the rest of my life with you too."

You for down on one knee, Jungkook's eyes going wide and Yoongi's jaw unhinged to its full capacity. You pulled out the velvet box containing two identical rings, opening it carefully to reveal them.

"Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook. Will you steal my last name?"

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sif-the-tsunami · 4 years

Text

Ropes and Roses: part 2

Summary: Elizabeth Rosehill is a talented dance instructor and a force of nature that beguiles her famous student. Event in her life, however, have led her to search for more creative ways for her to keep herself afloat. What will she do to keep her dreams secure and what will it mean for her blossoming relationship.

Warnings: I promise that we are getting to some fun stuff, this one is mostly flirtation, fluff, and some feminine bisexual chaos.

A/N: I love some bisexual chaos. let me know what you think.

@achaoticaugust @thelastsock @viking-raider let me know what you think?

Word count: ~1600

Henry looked around the studio after placing the yoga mats down. The light tan wood floors creaked softly under his footsteps, the walls coated with a light blue paint made the space feel calm and inviting, he thought to himself that the color combination reminded him of a day at the beach. One wall was covered with mirrors, the other had a rack with more yoga mats, brightly colored jingly hip scarves, and photos taken of various dancers. Elizabeth walked back into the room wearing a soft gray shirt over the curve hugging leggings and tank top she was wearing for the previous class.

“So, Greg told me this morning that they had not fully finished the plans for the dance scene, and he was willing to take my input. I have reviewed some of your fight scene footage, I think I have a good idea of where we can start. And I’m not going to lie, with your strength, I bet you would be a lot of fun to swing dance with. Now, lets get warmed up.” She began.

She kicked off her shoes and sat down on the mat, her movement was almost fluid. He watched her black painted fingernails run through her hair, the soft curls bounced gently as she leaned her head to left slightly. Henry joined her on the floor. For the next twenty minutes he mirrored her stretches as best as he could. With every new stretch, Elizabeth would praise him for his effort. Every “good job!” she exclaimed would perk him up. He would do yoga with her every day if it meant he could hear his new teacher shower him with praise.

During the stretches, they chatted about hobbies. Something about her demeanor made him open up more easily. She teased him for still playing WoW, but he playfully jabbed, “Oh I’m sorry who all plays Elder Scroll Online still?”

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”

The last position they did required them to have their legs spread apart and trying to lean forward enough to drop their elbows on the floor. It was pretty clear to Henry he wouldn’t be able to make it down that far. He could feel a tightness in his lower back that was keeping him from going too far forward.

“You don’t need to go as far as me, just as far as you can. Do your best, Henry. Take a nice deep breath in with your mouth, hold it for a five count, and exhale with your nose.” She said, her voice like velvet. “You are doing a really good job, keep up the effort. I’m willing to bet that if you kept doing stretches like this, in about four months, you could probably get your elbows down like this.”

He looked at Elizabeth’s large brown eyes, trying hard not to check out her body and immediately regretting wearing his dark blue track pants. She moved upright as smooth as ever. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking that she was showing off for him. He knew women would occasionally bend over backwards to impress him, and often it would work. It allowed him to be very picky with his romantic liaisons. She was up before he was, and reached out a hand to help him. With that gesture, he snapped out of his train of thought.

The dance instructor did everything she could to evoke any form of dance from Henry’s body. It was like trying to juice a rock. “So I think what we are going to try to accomplish is a basic tango. You get to look strong and imposing, your partner gets to look hella sexy. Win-win, right?” She said, trying to sound optimistic.

“It’s not too late, you can tell Greg that I should just be really great at Chess.” He teased.

“Don’t you tempt me, Mr Cavill. I might just do that.” She laughed for the first time in front of him. “So I have plans for the next couple nights, but if you want to really try to improve, I can get a partner for you to practice with on Sunday night. We would have to wait until after the school’s fall recital. But I can give you a couple hours.”

“Do you think I could actually get better.”

After a pause, and a long drink from her bottle of water, she responded as diplomatically as possible, “Well, Mr Cavill, if you don’t mind my honesty? You can’t get much worse.”

“Ouch. Ow. You hurt all two of my feelings.” He feigned insult. She raised a single eyebrow and saw right through him. Oh no, he thought, she knows I’m an absolute marshmallow.

“Uh huh, all two of your feelings. Right. So, Sunday night?” She giggled a little.

“Oh yeah, I’ll be here.” They then said their farewells, and left the studio for the night. Henry made his way home to a very excited Kal. He might still hate dancing but he enjoyed his time with Elizabeth. What was it about her that made him want to please her? Her whole face lit up when she smiles, her laugh was like music.

That night he dreamed of the teacher, and wondered just how flexible she actually was.

***

Sunday night was an absolute joy for Elizabeth. She loved watching the little kids tap dance, the couples showing off their waltz, and the group of women who show off their tribal routine. Before the last dance, she noticed that her newest student tiptoed into a spot in the back. She was actually kind of excited to let him see what she could do. Being a very thorough researcher, she knew he would be able to learn a basic routine, especially given the amount of fight choreography he had mastered. She would be able to make the connection from his brain to his body. He might not enjoy it, but she appreciated the level of dedication that he had shown in the past and was willing to put forth for her.

Between performances, the families with littles mingled and left the studio. The group of belly dancers sat on one side of the room, the couples from the ballroom dancing stayed to another side. Henry stayed in the corner by himself, hiding in an open room with a baseball cap and a hoodie.

Elizabeth came out from the back wearing black pants, a black suit jacket and a sparkly silver bralette. Her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her partner, Genevieve, wore a formfitting red dress with lovely long blonde curls. She had agreed to perform this particular dance months ago and the anticipation was palpable. Inspired by the Frieda Kahlo movie, they had always wanted to perform a two woman tango. Elizabeth and Genevieve moved together like lovers deeply enthralled with each other. The music was sensual, but not nearly as sensual as they were. The two never broke eye contact until the very end of the dance. For a brief moment, she flashed her big brown eyes at Henry. His eyes were the size of dinner plates and he gulped hard. Good, she thought, I still got it.

Genevieve and Elizabeth hugged as the students applauded their display. They wrapped up the showcase, some more mingling and gradually the other adults left. Henry stayed to himself while waiting for his teacher to be ready.

“So, Mr Cavill, what did you think?”

“That was… oh my god, so... Wow… I don’t know if I can make a coherent sentence right now.”

“Thank you, that was exactly what I was going for. Henry, this is Gennie, she will be your partner tonight.” Elizabeth removed her jacket and pulled on a black tank top to get ready for their practice. She saw him sneak a peek at her changing, looking at the roses tattooed all over the right side of her torso. Gennie and Henry shook hands to begin their time together. Elizabeth was right, they were a good pair.

Their evening was well spent, Genevieve was a gracious partner. They had great chemistry together, Elizabeth was even able to take a short video to show to Gregory. She noticed that when the connection was made by Henry his whole body language changed. He loved to be told how great he was doing. The visible pleasure made her want to keep praising him. Before the evening class was done, Elizabeth also figured out what would make her pupil begin to laugh, and the more he relaxed the more he gave her. They became a great team, and a genuine friendship was beginning to form between the two.

***

Over the next few weeks, Henry and Elizabeth would continue their lessons. Over one lunch with his friends, the actor spent more than half of their time together telling the group of the instructor. He couldn’t stop himself from singing her praises. When someone suggested that he was developing a crush on her, he laughed to himself and denied it.

“Come on, Hank, you keep telling us how funny and cute she is. When you are done working together, ask her out.” Jillian suggested.

Jillian’s husband Jeremy asked Henry to describe the woman he had been talking about.

“Short, curly hair, she has some pink streaks in her hair, brown eyes, she kind of looks a little like a sort of retro pin-up model. She has a tattoo of flowers on her rib cage. I think she’s pretty.”

“American you said?”

“Yeah, from Southern California.”

“Huh, how about that.” Jeremy said vaguely. The questions seemed a little out of character for him but maybe he was actually interested in who she was. Henry tried not to overthink it, but it sat wrong with him the rest of the day.

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years

Text

running away

request: Can u do 18 and 69 from the prompt list w Mat Barzal please?! 💗💗 love ur blog!!!

prompt: “Say that again, but less stupid.” & “I don’t get jealous.” / numbers 18 & 69 off of this list with Mat Barzal.

summary: Mat knows just how to annoy you and you can’t help but fall for it every time.

warnings: drinking

word count: 2.3k

You didn't want to hate Mat. In all reality, you didn't actually. He was just annoyingly cocky when it came to his hockey ability. When you had tried to voice this to yours and Mat’s mutual friend Tito, he had just laughed it off, grinning out a ‘he has a right to be’ before leaving you pouting.

No, you didn't hate Mathew Barzal. He just really, really annoyed you.

“Say that again, but less stupid.” You blanched. You had lost your filter two drinks ago, and from your position wedged in a booth between Mat and Tito in some bar you were at celebrating a win, you were forced to listen to Mat and Tito talk about hockey. You weren’t totally listening, partially because you could only hear so much hockey talk before you lost your mind and partially because your head was a little fuzzy from your drinks.

Your were contemplating on just how you were going to get past Mat and out of the booth to reach the bar when you heard his asinine comment. Normally, you would tune him out and you were certain you would’ve this time if you hadn't been sitting so close and if he hadn't sounded so dumb. So, really, you had no choice but to interrupt.

“I said, it’s fun to get in fights sometimes.” You scoffed at this, glancing up to Mat to see his trademark troublemaking grin. You were starting to think that maybe you should rethink the whole idea of going to get another drink because your next words tumbled past your lips before you could control them.

“I hate when you get in fights.” You regretted the confession instantly, seeing as it only made Mat’s teasing smirk grow.

“Aw, do you care about me?” His comment made Tito laugh, and you hoped that the way your eyes rolled made you seem indifferent enough, or maybe you could blame the rosiness of your cheeks on the alcohol.

Because as much as Mat annoyed you, you couldn't have helped the way you fell hopelessly for him.

“No.”

Lie.

Mat and Tito laughed at the defensiveness in your voice and you refused to look at either one of them. Right now, you just needed space from the two boys. You mumbled an excuse about having to use the bathroom and thankfully Mat let you leave without another comment.

You took your time in the bathroom, straightening out your clothes and chastising yourself for reacting the way you had to his teasing. As far as you knew he was blind to your affections, there was no way he could know since you had never told anyone—let alone someone that would let it slip to Mat.

Instead of heading back to the booth which had since been abandoned by Mat and Tito, you headed to the bar counter. It was crowded, and you didn't spot anyone you knew until a loud laugh sounded from a group of people to your left.

You hated yourself for it, but it was a laugh you could recognize anywhere. It was a laugh that drew your attention, only the small smile that had formed at the sound faltered when you took in the scene before you. Mat and Tito were surrounded by a gaggle of girls, and they looked like they were having the time of their lives.

The sight made an ugly feeling grow in your chest, one that had no right to be there. You and Mat were nothing, sometimes you questioned if you were even friends but your massive crush on him rejected the idea of having a just platonic relationship. But you were certain that friends didn’t get upset when the other was blatantly charming a group of girls.

Your stomach dropped when you locked eyes with Mat, his smile turning to a teasing one as he caught you staring. You tried to change the sour look on your face to one a bit more neutral, but you were certain that made you look even more suspicious. Your head whipped forward, and you spotted the bartender nearby. You waved them down, and just as you finished giving them your order, another body stepped beside the stool you were sitting on to lean on the counter.

“Put it on my tab, thanks.” Much like the laugh, it was a voice you’d recognize from anywhere. You’d heard the voice a thousand times, from across the room, whispered in a kitchen, yelled from the ice as you watched practice tucked in the stands, or right behind you in a crowded bar—Mathew Barzal was not one you’d easily forget.

“Don’t you have anyone else to be buying drinks for?” You snapped before you could bite your tongue. Maybe the alcoholic drink you'd just ordered wasn't the best idea, but you weren't totally thinking straight under Mat’s heavy stare.

“Jealous?” He teased, the word coming out as a chuckle. Usually, his smile was infectious but right now you couldn't help but glare at him. There was something about the way he said that one word told you he knew. He knew about your feelings and he was just throwing the fact that they were unrequited in your face.

At least, that's the way you saw it.

“I don’t get jealous.” You huffed, suddenly sounding very defensive. Your sentence was punctuated by the bartender setting your drink down in front of you, which you quickly sipped from in order to avoid looking at him. You didn't know how much longer you were going to be able to sit there and handle his teasing.

“Are you sure? Because if you’re not, then I’m just going to go back over and talk to those girls.” His smile was playful, and if your mind hadn't been so foggy you would've realized he had no real intention of going back over there other than to antagonize you. But the thought of it had the ugly feeling—jealousy, you know recognized—bubbling up in your chest again.

You forced a smile onto your face, turning towards him before sliding off the stool. Before, when you had been sitting, the height difference between the two of you wasn't that noticeable. Now that you were on your own feet, and as close as you were, your neck was craning to look at him. You could feel your eyes start to get glossy, and you shoved your drink into his chest until he grabbed it. His gaze locked on yours and your chest tightened as his features softened into a confused frown once he recognized the strained look on your face, how your smile was tight and no where near reaching your eyes.

With his own drink in his other hand, he didn't have a free one to grab you to keep you in place as you shouldered your way through the crowd. You felt ridiculous, there was no reason that you should be this upset over Mat talking to other girls, but the fact that he came over and taunted you about your feelings had you feeling suffocated in the crowded bar.

You were running away from your feelings, from confrontation, and from Mat.

You pulled out your phone as you maneuvered your way outside to call an Uber, and by the time you made it out the car was already pulled up out front. You checked to make sure it was your Uber and soon after that you were pulling away from the curb and headed back to your apartment.

Aside from sending Tito a quick text that you had left so he wouldn't worry about you, you spent the ride pathetically staring out the window. You upset, that medium between anger and sadness that had you mindlessly watching the lights of the city night pass by without actually taking anything in.

You stayed in your stupor all the way until your apartment, changing into a pair of sweats and a tee as soon as you could. It wasn't until you had gotten a glass of water and were seated on the couch attempting to pick a show to watch that you were brought back to reality by a knock on your door.

You could feel your heart hammer in your chest as you looked through the peephole to spot the very same dark haired boy you had left at the bar. He seemed nervous, rocking back and forth on his feet with eyes darting from your door to the elevator at the end of the hall. He was waiting for something to happen, and just as you watched him raise his fist to knock again did you decide to swing the door open.

Instead of greeting him like you would any other guest, you simply raised a brow to question his presence. He sighed, running a hand through his hair that was already so tousled something told you he had repeated the action dozens of times before you caught him.

“Can I come in?” He asked, and still you stayed silent, though you did step back to allow him to slip in. He muttered a thank you before heading into the living room and finding home on your couch. “What are you watching?”

“What are you doing here, Mat?” You questioned, sounding a little standoffish and more than your fair share of exhausted as you wrapped your arms around yourself leaning against the doorjamb. He looked from the television to you, brows tugged together to show his confusion.

“You basically ran off, I wanted to make sure you were okay. Do you want me to leave?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned about whether you wanted him to stay and nothing like the cocky hockey player you left back at the bar. You softened a bit at his question, but then you were reminded of just why you felt so defeated when flashes of him surrounded by women crept back into your head.

“No, I mean, shouldn’t you be back at the bar trying to find tonight’s hookup?” You didn't mean to sound bitter, but you were honestly exhausted by trying to hide your feelings. You figured that since he already knew and used to it mock you there was no point in trying to be subtle.

The laugh that left Mat had your head snapping from your shoes to meet his gaze, and it was your turn to draw your brows together. He was grinning, one that usually made your heart skip a beat but was only causing your annoyance to grow.

“You’re so oblivious.”

“Excuse me?” You snapped, raising a pointed brow in his direction. He usually got on your nerves, but tonight he was testing your limits. He was creating more questions than providing answers and you were reading your boiling point.

“I don't want to go home with any of those girls from the bar, so you don’t have to be jealous.” You scoffed at his comment, wondering just why he felt the need to keep bringing up the fact that you were so annoyed. It really wasn't helping his case at the moment, only serving to agitate you more.

“It sure looked like it.” You huffed, stepping towards the couch and ultimately him only to reach for the empty glass sitting on the coffee table before retreating back into the kitchen. You heard Mat sigh, and his footsteps following after you.

You were being stubborn, you knew that. There was clearly something Mat wanted to say, but you kept your back to him as you filled the glass once more. He called your name softly when it became clear that you had no intention of paying him any attention. You turned, but your gaze was focused on your feet.

“Do you think I was flirting with those girls?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his tone that had you scoffing once more. Your heart may belong to Mat but he sure knew how to get under you skin. “I was just being Tito’s wingman, I promise.”

“Why does that matter?” You mumbled, because you truly were in no position to police just who Mat talked to. Even if it made you feel like jealousy was going to consume you whole. At your question, Mat chuckled. You raised a brow in question, but otherwise stayed silent.

“Because I know you like me.” Just like at the bar, you felt like running away. Mat must have sensed it, maybe he saw your gaze flicker from him to the door, because he was moving closer to you, and before you could even think about what to do, he was talking the glass out of your hand to set on the counter. He place his hands on your hips, tugging you closer to him so quickly you stumbled, bracing yourself with your hands on his chest. “I like you too, you know.”

From where your hand was placed, you could feel his heart beating out of his chest, just like yours ways. You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of disbelief, trying to decide if this was some elaborate prank just so he could tease you. But the combination of his racing heart under you palm, the sincerity in his eyes, and the fact that he followed you from the bar instead to make sure you’re okay convinced you this was real. His eyes flickered to your lips only to meet your gaze again. All he needed was the small nod of your head and he dipped back in, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was slow and gentle, and you felt it all the way down to your toes. When you finally pulled away it was because of a need for oxygen and Mat didn't let you get far. His grip on your hips pulled you flush against his chest and your arms wrapped around his neck. You weren’t mad about the closeness, it allowed you to chase after his lips once you caught your breath to give him a few more quick kisses. You were melting under his gaze, and he knew it.

“I’m a pretty good kisser, huh?” He teased and you groaned, dropping your head onto his chest. Leave it to him to take the sweet start of your relationship and use it to get under your skin.

“You're so annoying, Barzal.”

#mat barzal #mat Barzal x reader #mat Barzal imagine #mat Barzal imagines #Mathew barzal #Mathew Barzal x reader #Mathew Barzal imagine #Mathew Barzal imagines #New York islanders #New York Islanders imagine #nyi #hockey #hockey imagine #nhl #nhl imagine

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stylesvolume94 · 4 years

Text

Safeword

Same shit, different fucking day.

Upon entering his apartment, Harry muttered this with an eye roll and huff. He drops his worn leather satchel and keys next to the small entry table, shoes and jacket following. He can smell the roast that Brayley prepared and tells himself to lighten up a bit, but his brows and full lips seem to be set in a permanent frown.

After a long day at the office, Harry came home physically and mentally drained. He was a financial analyst since he graduated from college and was doing very well for himself, having only been there for four years. His job was demanding, and he often found himself coming back to his apartment in a foul mood.

He'd walk through his creaky apartment door, shrug off his jacket, kick off his too-expensive work shoes, and stalk to the bedroom. He rarely stops to say hello to his girlfriend, Brayley, any more or asks how her day was, even when she prepares Harry's favorite meals and runs him a warm bath or shower.

Today was one of those days, where Harry comes home already dreading his next workday and going over scenarios in his head about what he would say to his jackass coworkers (which makes him even angrier as the made-up storyline continues).

Harry continues through the small corridor, untucking his dress shirt with his right hand and tugging at his all too restricting tie with the left before tousling his newly cut hair with both hands to rid of his anger. Noted, he was entirely opposed to cutting his shoulder-length locks, but his boss deemed it "a bit unprofessional for the workspace, don't you think, kid?" He didn't.

Turning the corner, Harry spots Brayley setting the table, and, for some reason, he feels something deep within him that he can only guess is desire. As his gaze falls on his woman, now wiping the counters, he realizes how sexually frustrated he's been for so long, too long. He immediately starts daydreaming about how it would be should he take her right there in the kitchen; holding her up against the counter as he sucks on the delicate skin of her neck, taking her furiously from behind as she leans over the placed table, or spreading her out on the floor while she pulls his hair as viciously as she knows how.

His visions come to an end when he hears Brayley's calm voice fill the small space. "H? Are you okay?"

Harry could only stare at her blankly, attempting to rid the images in his worked up mind. She smiles at him. "You scared me; I didn't hear you come in. I made one of your favorites if you're hungry, and then mayb-"

"No." It came out as a grumble. A growl? He wasn't sure, and he hadn't meant to speak. Harry didn't even know he wanted to; it's as if the word just appeared. His next words, though, he thought of very carefully and with as much authority as he could gather.

"I'm not hungry, and I know you were going to say 'maybe I could run you a bath,' but I'm not in the mood for that now. What I want,"

At this point, Harry was making his way to stand at his now-confused girlfriend's toes, leaning down so his warm breath ghosted her ear.

"What I want is for you to get into the bedroom, strip down to nothing, and spread yourself out for me. I've had a seriously shit day, and I just really want to get inside of you tonight."

------

Any other night Brayley would find her boyfriend's dominance extremely arousing and somewhat dangerous but in the way they both like. The way that makes their relationship exciting and adventurous. Dangerous in a way that has led them to confess their desires and fantasies early on and act on them in various manners, each time going a bit further to explore their limits.

Tonight wasn't like that. Their connection was dangerous, yes, but not in the explorative way Brayley had hoped. Tonight was seeming to turn legitimately dangerous, a kind of situation that she hadn't been in before with Harry but one that she wondered if she should stop.

After her lover's instruction passed his lips, Brayley knew Harry was in a foul mood. His authority usually took over when he was upset or jealous, and she knew it was the former, but she couldn't get out a questioning before Harry put his hand over her mouth to silence her. I don't want to hear your fucking voice tonight unless it's screaming my name. Now go.

Though his words were harsh, Brayley knew he was only trying to show his dominance and figured her boyfriend of three years would take care of his needs while also caring for hers. But, as the minutes progressed, she could her warning sounds going off in her head. She took note of every move Harry made that seemed just off enough for her to question his true intentions of the night.

------

It began with his words in the kitchen, then continued when he forced her to strip in front of him, his stance threatening and features hard, arms crossed over his naked chest and feet firmly planted. She was a bit hesitant then but not enough to stop. If she were honest, she was rather wound up herself, initially. She understood his slightly exaggerated control resulted from another bad workday, thought that tonight would be a dip into pushing their limits.

As Harry gripped her throat just tight enough for her to audibly gasp, Brayley wondered if he would take care of her needs alongside his. When he proceeded to drag her to her knees, take a rough fistful of her hair, and practically spit the single demand of Suck, she thought the answer was maybe. Thought he wanted to be more authoritative than usual, and who was she to deny his needs when he always allowed the experimenting of hers.

It wasn't until Harry threw her onto the bed, held her hands above her head with one of his own, and roughly thrust inside that Brayley knew the 'maybe' was a definite 'no.'

When the pair first began exploring one another's sexual desires, Harry had three rules. He would always take his time to prep her and ask if she was okay and ready before starting, and when they finished, no matter how rough the two were, Harry wouldn't let either of them fall asleep until he heard her say she was satisfied and loved him. And he was rough most of the time, yes, but he knew when care was necessary. He needed the reassurance that he hadn't gone too far.

His third rule, Brayley feared, was about to come into play; their safeword. "No matter what we're doing or how far either of us wants to go, we use it if there's even the slightest bit of uncertainty or fear to continue. Promise me you'll use it if it ever gets to that point, and I'll promise the same. But I also promise to do everything in my power not to lose control enough for you to have to."

Harry kept his promise for two years, but when his right hand rubbing her over-stimulated nerves came up to wrap around her throat a second time, Brayley knew she had to use it.

They both knew it had to be something utterly random so as to interrupt the mood entirely. The pair decided on 'blue.' Brayley didn't think it was very unusual, but Harry argued that 'I can't think of a single reason you would shout a color at me while I fuck you, but if you have a reason, you can change it.' She didn't have a valid reason on the spot, so they agreed on 'blue.'

A particularly sharp thrust sent an unusual shock through her body that made Brayley grasp Harry's right forearm with both of her shaking hands after he'd released them to take hold of the headboard's thick metal bar with his left. She began panicking because not only was he not letting up after a very audible whimper of pain left her lips, but she couldn't catch her breath to tell him to stop. It took a few painful minutes for her to summon the strength to talk.

"Hurts...s-stop...stop." Her words came out pathetically. Tears began to fall down the sides of her face, mixing with the sweat that'd formed. "Stop...blue...blue Har-"

"What'd I say 'bout talking, huh? What did I fucking say?" Harry tightened his grip on the girl underneath him as well as on the bar. His pupils blown and hair a mess as it began matting to his forehead; Harry didn't comprehend the words that he heard. He knew she spoke, but he didn't hear his name, so he figured he'd get a bit rougher. She's taking me so well right now. Maybe the limit is further than I thought.

He choked on his next words, eyes tightly shut, and teeth bared. "I told you I don't - fuck - wanna hear you unless it's my name." He could feel the build-up at the bottom of his spine for a second time that night, could feel his girl tighten around him.

Brayley tried desperately to calm herself, and when she felt air enter her lungs after yet another deep gasp, she shouted as loudly as she could, which wasn't very loud at all considering it was quite tearful.

"Blue, Harry! Blue!"

------

Harry is a fragile man, a romantic one, but only towards certain people and only occasionally. To anyone else, he would come off as a hard-ass, mysterious, and somewhat intimidating person. Brayley loved that about him, though, how he was smart in choosing who to trust and when to let his guard down.

Harry has always been affectionate towards his woman. When they became friends, he knew he could immediately trust her, and by the time they started dating, he had become a full-on softie. So when he hears her cry or finds her upset in any way, Harry instantly turns to mush. To listen to his baby in pain, of the heart or body, physically hurts him, and he turns into someone nobody but her sees.

When his mind registered that his girlfriend, his Brayley, used their safeword for the very first time, he wasn't sure what to do. Harry stilled and stared at his lover's pain-stricken face while his right hand remained limp on her neck, and his left slid down by her head to hold himself up.

When his eyes caught sight of faint purple prints, he felt he was going to be sick. How could you do this? How could you hurt her? Harry only looked at her as he took deep full breaths. Brayley's own hand slipped from his forearm and came to rest by her sides.

Fisting the sheets weakly, she tried to get a sense of where she was, trying to bring herself back from what had occurred. Her eyes shut peacefully, and she was able to calm her breathing, but too often was interrupted by throbs of pain pulsing throughout her whole body.

Admittedly, she was afraid to open her eyes and have to face the unmoving man above her. She knew he felt terrible and would apologize profusely, but she didn't want to hear any of that then, she only wanted to try and relax. Her growing tranquillity was interrupted by a shaky whimper and sudden cold on her neck from an absent hand.

"Bray," The courage it took for Harry to open his mouth was immense, and as soon as his voice reached his ears, tears clouded his vision.

"Bray, m'so sorry. So sorry, baby, please look at me." He was panicking, they both knew it, but this wasn't about him.

His voice dropped to a feeble whisper. "Please open your eyes. Have to know you're okay, have to make it better, please."

When a thick tear dropped on her face, Brayley slowly peeled her eyes open. They had met a very sad, very bright green staring at her with the utmost concern. It was her turn to whisper.

"Haz..."

"Baby, m'sorry."

"I know...s'okay." Her voice was gentle.

Harry began shaking his head, curls swaying, and tears still falling.

"No! No, s'not okay, it's not. I hurt you; I hurt my girl, I-"

"Harry. I'm all right. J-just sore and...cold."

Brayley knew it wasn't all right, what he'd done, but she wouldn't admit that until later when they both had calmed entirely. If she freaked then, Harry would only become more anxious, and what she needed was someone to help her off the bed and into the bath. She was undeniably cold as sweat began to settling on her reddened skin, and she felt incredibly dirty.

After a moment, Harry understood what Brayley needed. He had hurt and scared her, but what she needed were attention and care. He needed to make things right.

-----

That's how Harry found himself on the floor next to the tub, holding his woman's hand limply as he leaned his left cheek on the side. Brayley assured him he could step in with her, but he felt so guilty and was glad he was even allowed in their washroom.

After carefully getting off the bed and into his boxers, Harry had taken Brayley to the bathroom, bridal style. She found it quite awkward, being completely naked and clammy, but Harry didn't seem phased in the slightest. He'd put her in the tub and turned on the warm water, allowing himself time to change the bedsheets, and gather up clean clothes and a towel for later.

Upon reentry, Harry found Brayley half-submerged and resting her head on the side of the tub. When their eyes met, he immediately looked to the floor. He didn't know how he'd let himself get so angry at the outside world that he took it out on his whole world at home. She trusted him, but he was afraid she never would again.

Harry was brought out of his head when he heard the sloshing of water and Brayley's hands come up to take hold of his face.

"H, I know you're upset, I am too. I also know we need to talk about this, but m'too tired to have that conversation tonight." Harry's breath picked up at this, fearing she wanted to leave.

"So," she continued, "m'gonna step out and get dressed, and I want us to sleep in our bed together, wake up together, and figure out why tonight happened, together. Because Harry, what happened happened, we can't take it back. But we can try to get through it, yeah?"

Harry could only nod at the idea. He was so grateful in that moment, and the fear that coursed through him at the notion of discussing the night's events dissipated upon hearing her say 'together.' She spoke to him almost child-like, but he didn't care. Harry lifted his hands to lay them atop of Brayley's.

"M'so sorry, Brayley. Truly. Never meant to harm you, swear it. I love you so much." His voice cracked, and fresh tears spilled. "You are everything to me, my whole world. Can't lose you. I promise what happened tonight won't ever happen again. I promise. I promise, Brayley. I love you. I love you."

The last three words came out as a breath before Harry cautiously pressed his lips to his girlfriend's. Harry had a lot of apologizing ahead of him, but he respected his woman's wishes and took her to bed. Cuddling her to his chest, he thanked the heavens that Brayley was by his side, even after what he'd done. Harry had never meant for the night to turn out the way it did, and he would be damned if it ever happened again.

#harrystyles #harry #styles #harrystylesimagines #harrystylesmasterlist #harry styles one shot

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bangtan-gal · 5 years

Text

Consequences

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!reader fallen angel!au word count: 2.3k warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of past abuse, mentions of toxic relationships

Masterlists Other Angel AUS: Chan | Jisung |

Your neighborhood was constantly infested with crime and gangs. You were used to the gunshots at midnight, the constant screaming, and the car alarms going off. So that must’ve been why you were so calm when the bloody body appeared on your doorstep and didn’t call the police. The rules of the neighborhood were commonly known: keep your mouth shut and you won’t get hurt.

Blood splattered across the white tiles and stained your couch as you struggled to drag the body into your house. Part of you knew that you should’ve just left the boy outside to just rot, but you still had your heart. You just prayed that you could get him patched up and out before your boyfriend came back home.

Just as you knelt down beside him, washcloth and isopropyl alcohol in head, your phone started to ring. You stared at it, watching as your mom’s caller ID flashed wildly. You wanted to answer, your hands started to shake because of it, but you couldn’t find it in yourself. You were more scared of the consequences.

You started wiping the cuts and scratches on his face, staring at the pale skin that appeared beneath all the blood and dirt. As you continued on, silently bandaging up his arm and disinfecting the cut on his eyebrow and lip, he started to stir. A grumble escaped and he started to shift.

Then as fast as lightning, he sat up, hand wrapping around your wrist and eyes turning to you. His eyes were dark, but they seemed to be glowing green from the small slants of sunlight peering through the window. His dark brown hair was matted to his face from the sweat.

“Where am I?” He asked. He didn’t even seem phased from his current injuries. He should’ve been slightly light-headed, but he seemed completely fine.

It made no sense.

“Um… in my apartment?” You mumbled, pulling out of his tight grip. “You were passed out and all bloody on my doorstep.”

His mouth opened in an ‘O’ and then a sad sigh escaped him. He looked down at his fingers, flexing them. He brought his knees up to his chest and cleared his throat. Fear was burning in his eyes. You found yourself actually feeling bad for this one.

“I’m Hyunjin,” he hummed, holding out a hand. You shook it, staring at him, still in confusion.

“Y/N…” you trailed off, “do you know how you got here?” “Father banished me,” he stated simply, standing up. Then he groaned and fell back onto the couch, clutching his head. You pursed your lips.

“Your… father banished you?” You asked, voice growing quieter. Was he younger than he looked? Was it possible he was like you and living in an environment he didn’t belong in?” His eyes met yours and his expression softened and you could see some ancient sadness brimming in their depths.

“It’s hard to explain,” he muttered. His stomach rumbled and his gaze darted downwards. His hand worriedly patted his stomach.

“I’ll get you some food,” you sighed.

He frowned. “I’ve never had to eat before.”

You didn’t hear that last statement as you hurried into the kitchen. You made a bowl of cereal and brought it to him. Confusion was evident on his face as he stared at the bowl in his lap. Although he wasn’t a child, you treated him like one as you scooped up a spoonful and moved it towards his mouth. His eyes met yours as his lips wrapped around the spoon and he slowly swallowed. After that, he took the food from you and practically inhaled it.

As he did, you turned your attention to your phone Two text notifications sat on the lock screen and your stomach started to revolt. You let out a shaky breath and unlocked your phone, reading over the message.

DK: I won’t be back in town for a week

DK: And you know the rules baby, none of them should be broken

“You’d let someone treat you like that?” The question startled you. You snapped your phone off and dropped it in your lap. The boy stared over your shoulder, eyes focused on where your phone sat. It made no sense, but he looked angry. He took a slow breath and then leaned away from you.

“You shouldn’t intrude on others privacy like that,” you scolded, standing up. His gaze followed you.

“You’re no one’s pet, Y/N.”

You froze, fingers tightening around your phone. That was what you used to tell yourself every night before you went to bed until your hope was crushed under the toe of that horrible man’s shoe. Sometimes you swore that you heard someone whisper that in your ear in your darkest moments.

“Who exactly are you?” You asked. Hyunjin stood up and this time he didn’t collapse back onto the couch. He staggered towards you, clutching his stomach as he did so.

“Your guardian angel.”

Then he passed out again and smacked his head against the carpet.

⧪⧪⧬⧪⧪

When he came to again, it was dinner time and just like before, the boy was starving. You didn’t ask about whatever nonsense he had mumbled before his accident. You just fed him and yourself, the both of you silent as you ate. Hyunjin was like a vacuum the way he consumed food. One second it was there and the next it was sucked into the void that was him.

“And we always made fun of humans for eating excessively,” he groaned after he finished. This time you stared at him, your brain struggling to wrap itself around exactly what was happening.

“What?” Hyunjin’s gaze was sharp when it met yours.

“I told you didn’t I? I’m your guardian…” then he trailed off, eyes going down to stare at his hands. “Or at least I used to be.”

You stood up, clasping your hands together. Your body was visibly shaking and your teeth were working vigorously on your bottom lip. That wasn’t possible. It was logic, it was law. God didn’t exist. Angels didn’t exist and neither did demons.

But what ab—

“I’m going to bed, there’s an extra bedroom down the hall,” you said. Hyunjin opened his mouth to interrupt you, but your voice grew sharper. Then you hurried to your bedroom, changing into pajamas quickly and covering your mouth as you struggled to muffle your sobs.

Eventually you fell asleep and you weren’t sure what time it was when someone delicately knocked at your door. You roused from your sleep, watching as the door creaked open and Hyunjin stepped inside. The moon outlined his body as he approached the bed and knelt down beside you.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he apologized. You squinted into the dark, trying to see the supposed angel that sat just a foot away.

“It’s not the first time,” you replied softly. You weren’t any calmer, but you forced yourself to keep an outer composure. “Are you actually an angel?”

Hyunjin was silent but you could hear him moving. The bed dipped as he sat on the edge and his fingers traced along your arm. They were soft and delicate and his touch was sending shivers down your spine.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. There was no sense of worth in his voice. “I chose humans over my duties and now… I’m actually here.”

You reached for the lamp, blinking as light flooded your room. Hyunjin perched on the edge of your bed, chin resting on his knees. The green in his eyes had disappeared and his eyes were almost completely black. His mouth was set in a grim line and his eyes were focused on the window. There was a longing in his eyes; a longing that you’d seen hundreds of times in the mirror.

The want to escape.

“Ok,” you started slowly, “let’s say you are an angel. Why are you here? How’d you get all hurt? Can’t you just leave?”

Hyunjin stared at his hands and then shook his head.

“I was banished by my Father. I didn’t have a choice of coming here… and the fall from heaven is far. I-I fe…” His gaze moved to you. A million emotions seemed to swell on his face; sympathy, longing, sadness… and something that seemed almost loving. You sat up on your elbows, cheeks starting to flush.

“Why did you fall?” “You… I fell for you,” he murmured, “I saw all this abuse and I wanted to step in and I tried… but Father stopped me. I got mad, I screamed at him and tried to hurt him. It just made no sense: what’s the point of having guardian angels if we can’t even do anything to physically protect you?” He was crying. Hyunjin sniffled and wiped at his eyes, lips quivering. His whole body was shaking as he covered his face, trying to hide himself from you.

“Chan got away with it, he managed to save his… and then escaped Father’s wrath,” he sobbed, “I t-thought I could do and instead you’ve suffered so much because of my failures.”

You knew you should’ve comforted him; you wanted to. But you were just frozen as you stared at the boy in front of you. There’s no way this was real. Yet the look in his eyes screamed that it was and that he was actually hurt because of your misfortunes. He kept wiping the tears away only for his cries to become louder.

“I’ve failed you Y/N, I’m really sorry,” he gasped out. You fully sat up and shook your head. It didn’t matter how crazy this was. You saw someone trying to take the blame for something they couldn’t control.

“It’s not your fault, Hyunjin, you couldn’t have done anything about it,” you mumbled, “if that was your rules, you couldn’t break them.”

Hyunjin shook his head adamantly.

“But I could’ve.”

You glanced at the clock and saw that it was near two in the morning.

“Hyunjin, I’m worried, I really am… but if you’re human now you need sleep,” you sighed, “we should get some sleep and then we can talk about it in the morning?”

He wiped away another round of tears and nodded.

“C-can I stay in here?” He asked, not meeting your stare. You nodded, too tired to care as you rolled over and made space for him. Hyunjin slid in beside you and went still. You glanced over your shoulder at him, guilt tugging at your heart when you saw his tear-stained face. His eyes jumped to yours when your hand wrapped around his and squeezed.

“I promise nothing is your fault,” you murmured.

Hyunjin didn’t reply.

⧪⧪⧬⧪⧪

Morning came quickly and you taught Hyunjin how to make pancakes. He was almost like a little puppy the way he stood at your side, eyes wide as he watched everything you did. The two of you ate in silence and then he proposed the idea. So that was how you ended up in a car, cruising down the main street.

“How do you know where he is?” You asked nervously, eyes flitting around the area. You rarely left the apartment and it must’ve been so long that you turned into a hermit. Just the idea of leaving gave you anxiety and you were sure you were about to start crying any second.

“I mean… I lost my abilities, but I know what an angel aura feels like… and Chan’s was special,” he explained, “he came and talked to me the night he came to earth and told me where he was going if I ever wanted to see him.”

He stared out the window and then pointed to a building.

“There.”

You felt nervous as you parked and stepped out of the car. It was a library and it smelled of dust as you stepped inside. Hyunjin didn’t even stutter as he marched through the aisles of books and then stopped. You nearly bumped into him and then you looked around him. A blonde boy sat at a table, reading a book and sipping out of a mug. Something weird and powerful radiated from him and you could feel the belief start to set itself deeper into you.

Hyunjin had desperately wanted to see Chan and although you hadn’t been sure, you could hear the need in his voice. You wondered if seeing Chan would help him realize it wasn’t his fault. When you’d woke up in the morning, Hyunjin had been crying again. If Chan helped, you would take it.

“Channie!” Hyunjin whisper-shouted and started to walk towards the table. The blonde looked up, eyes momentarily sparking green and then he smiled when he saw Hyunjin. The sun was bouncing off his skin and he practically looked like he was glowing. Chan stood up and hugged Hyunjin. When he stepped back, his gaze skimming over Hyunjin, his smile stammered.

“Your powers are gone,” he said. His eyes sharply looked up to see you spying from the corner. His gaze darted back to Hyunjin. “What happened?” Hyunjin turned around and waved you over. Your body was vibrating as you made your way towards them, avoiding Chan’s inquisitive stare. You stood as close as you could to Hyunjin, unable to explain why you felt nervous around the other angel. His eyes burned into you, the green starting to grow deeper. Then it faded and he smiled sadly, looking at Hyunjin.

“You fell for a human,” Chan hummed.

Your mouth opened slightly and it hit you. The reason Hyunjin fell wasn’t because of his fire to protect you. He fell because of the intention behind it. You stared at him, watching as his eyes flickered and he glanced over at you. Sure, he fell from heaven for you, but first he fell in a different way.

He fell in love with you.

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naptoons · 4 years

Text

Haunt you - brandon arreaga

Warnings: drinking substance, mild language.

Theme: angst

Summary: Brandon regrets breaking up with you for the sake of protecting you, everyday memories of you guys together haunts him, so he decided he’s going to talk to you again and apologize.

A/N: I didn’t proofread, but this song is my current fave atm I’m literally obsessed with it lol. And I saw Brandon fitting this scenario I was in my feels blame the Scorpio in me🥺🤟🏾

You and Brandon were perfect. Every one looked up to y’all as couple goals. You were happy with Brandon, and he was as well with you. Wherever he was you were there. Even Zion would tease y’all and shout “can y’all unstick from each other for two minutes?!” Which ultimately made the both of you blush. Three months into the relationship you’d asked him was he going to introduce you to his fans. Brandon froze up and your question and decided not to answer. From that day forth you haven’t talked to him. Until three weeks later he texted you and broke up with you.

It was hard on you, he never told you why or even tried to talk about it. And that bothered you. But at the same time you thought how could you easily talk about pain? Pain isn’t a buttery smooth topic. Five months passed and you tried to forget about him, throwing yourself into your studies, going outside whenever you felt the need to cry. Texting your friends and practically begging them to come over or hangout with you. Matters didn’t get better when you realized all the members were still following you on Instagram. So you saw all their stories and posts.

Seeing Brandon’s smile made you miss his, made you miss the way his nose slightly crinkled when he smiled. The way his nose ring would constantly shift everytime he laid a kiss on you, caressing his tattoos after both of you came out the shower. The way he would tap your thigh softly while making beats because he wanted you close at all times. It was the little things that made you happy. And now you felt as if you were being greedy and that’s what drove him away from you. Putting on your favorite movie and grabbing your chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of wine. You begin binging the movie. Drinking glass after glass. An hour later the whole bottle was gone.

And your nose was red and your eyelids were puffy, slumped in the covers on your couch. Maybe it was better off this way, he could live his life and travel go on tour do his music. Hell he could get drunk if he wanted too, have one night stands, maybe even find someone whose job is just like his. But you can’t help how badly you want him. Even though you and Brandon have broken up the other members have been texting and checking up on you.

Feeling yourself falling asleep you phone buzzes scaring you , looking at the caller ID you see it’s Zion wanting to FaceTime you. Pulling the covers up to your nose you answer his call. “Hey y/n are you sick?” He asks in a concerned tone

“Having a little allergy problem, that’s all so what’s up?” You ask

“On our way to your house, we’re in town and thought we’d visit, come take you out or something” Zion adds Edwin gets in the camera slightly “y/n!!! We’ve missed you dude” Edwin chimes. You smile, sinking further into the covers.

“I’ve missed you guys too, how are y’all?” You asks

“Pretty great, how’s college going?” Edwin asks

“Sluggish” you giggle, they look at you with furrowed eyebrows “y/n? Are you drunk?” Zion questions you sink your head in the pillow as you start giggling even more but now it’s mixed with salty tears. “We’re on our way y/n” Zion whispers, Zion hangs up the phone as you stand up making your way to the shower, to clean yourself up.

Fifteen minutes later, a knock is at your door, your hair was still semi wet, you step to the side letting them all in, all expect Brandon he wasn’t here. In a way you really wish he was. Just to see how he was doing.

“Y/n? Talk to us, you’ve kinda been ignoring us since...” Zion starts but you cut him off “since we’ve broken up yeah I’m aware, it’s just really hard Zion, getting used to something that isn’t your routine, reverting back to normal, when what was normal before was beautiful” you rant “maybe I’m reminiscing too much on the past and it’s hurting me, but I’m hurting...”

Your voice choked up “I’m hurting cause I’ll never know why” Zion wastes no time pulling you into his arms, followed by the rest of the members wrapping their arms around you. They made you feel a bit better.

They stayed with you for a couple of hours playing board games, screaming at each other in uno, Zion getting real salty about you beating him in Mario kart. Brandon saw all of this through Instagram, seeing that smile it's the way you look, he won't forget it. His friend taps his shoulder making Brandon screenlock his phone.

“Bro you know you still love her, so go tell her” he advises

Brandon shakes his head “no, I can’t but it’s better this way”

His friend chuckles “it’s better for y’all to be miserable and running away from fake fans? Those are the only ones that are going to hate on y’all relationship dude”. Brandon broke up with you because he wanted to save your heart from the ruthless cyber space. He knew that on the internet it can be harsh, and he didn’t want you going through the same thing he does.

He didn’t want a psychopathic liar, twisting things around and making you doubt his love for you. He didn’t want anyone to make a fool out of you. He didn’t want anyone to publicly embarrass you. All he wanted was to see you smile, to see your eyes glisten at him, laugh until y’all turned blue in the face. Cuddle up on the roof at night and paint out fake constellations. It was the little things that haunted him. But he would rather have you away from this dark world than drag you in it.

“Brandon, listen your true fans will support and love you no matter what, look how they treated you and Charlotte. They will do the same with her, and plus if they don’t that’s okay, your family loves her, your friends life her and y’all love each other” his friend further pushes. “So get it through your thick skull and fucking talk to her,get your girl back, hug her kiss her before it’s too late, then it’ll really haunt you”

Brandon nods his head softly knowing one hundred percent his friend was right, texting Zion asking for your address, he grabs his keys rushing to your apartment.

The members left your house an hour ago, leaving you with a sore stomach, they made you laugh, they tried to teach you a dance. You really forgot about your problems for today. But when the moonlight peaked through your curtains. Your emotions would turn detrimental. Your doorbell rings just as you were heading towards your bedroom, confused and startled you wander towards the door, unlocking it you peep your head around seeing the raven haired boy, soaked from head to toe, his glasses glistening from the droplet.

“Brandon?” You question, Brandon weakly smiles at your sudden emotion, you never thought about the day you’d see him again. And now that he’s here your mind is empty. “May I come in?” His voice is soft being careful to think his words through.

“Yeah, of course you’re soaked” you open the door wider letting him step foot on your welcome mat. Closing the door and locking it behind him , Brandon starts taking off his shoes by the door tugging them away in the corner. “Want tea? Don’t want you sick when y’all start recording” you smile remembering how upset Brandon used to get whenever he had a cold and couldn’t record.

Music was his first love you would always tell him, but he’d always argue with you and say “no you’re my first love, stop trying to compete, with something you know you’ll win at”

“Sure, I’ll take your tea, just this time let’s hope you don’t give me diabetes” Brandon jokes

“That was one time !! Ugh” you yell, putting the water in the teapot you turn with the bag, turning around to meet Brandon’s eyes.

“Y/n?” His voice shakes “I’m here to say I’m sorry,you didn’t deserve to be in a toxic relationship, I didn’t deserve to give you pain, and to say I did it because I was scared of what the media would think is beyond fucking stupid” Brandon rarely cursed, and if he did he was serious about it, it had to be something he was passionate about it.

“I know your heart its way beyond being fixed, but I want to try, I want to take my time and heal you, and love you, because y/n I do love you more than I can comprehend, your pain is something I thought about for a while” Brandon reaches for your hand caressing your fingers. “I have a lot more words but I’d rather you hear it” Brandon’s voice vibrates appearing that he may break into tears soon. You nod your head getting the tea off and pouring it into a travel cup, adding in the organic honey and organic sugar, then stir with a spoon.

“I promise it’s not this sweet this time” you smile

“If it is that’s okay, I’ll drink it anyways” Brandon grabs your hand walking towards the door. Putting on his shoes. “What about me I need shoes” you try to turn around but Brandon pulls you closer lifting your legs off the ground.

“No worries your stuff is still at the house” getting outside you lock the door with the keys and he places your phone in his pocket. Running to the car you’re giggling in excitement and a sudden rush of butterflies. He places you in the car, rushing to his side as the rain started to trickledown.

“You’re insane” you giggle

“All because the name of love” he replies smiling

Arriving the the prettymuch house Brandon is holding you as he opens the front door with the key, walking in the house Zion and nick are in the couch. “Hey y’all” you giggle

Zion can’t help but to smile a little “hey” he lets out softly, Brandon smiles back at Zion nodding his head, Zion winks at him and Brandon walks to his room. Placing you down on your feet. You scan his room looking at his new set up, really have changed his sense of style. Brandon grabs your hand sitting you on the chair next to him.

“I can sing better than I can talk, so listen to this” he places his headphones on your head. The guitar begins to strum with the soft vocals of Brandon singing the first lyric of the song “How do I measure up to heights you've been to? How could I ever love you like you're meant to?” Looking at Brandon his fingers tap against the wooden table. Your eyes focused on the fidgeting nerves in my jawline. Sooner or later the chorus comes around.

“Never thought something so beautiful could haunt you Haunt you, haunt you”

You could feel the emotions in this song. Yeah you know he didn’t write it but he sung it as if he did, because it was meant for you to hear. After the song is done you look Brandon in the eyes. Hes biting his nails aching at your sudden response. He wasn’t prepared for your words. You sit on his lap cupping his head. “Brandon, my heart isn’t past broken it’s still trying to heal, and I’m scared, I’ve wished for this day I wished for this conversation, but I don’t know what to say”

Brandon’s eyes sparkling into euphoria, you can tell he’s still in love with you, but you were scared of what may happen. “Brandon I’m really scared” you whisper

“I’m sorry I made you scared baby, but I just wanted it to be known that my actions weren’t the way I truly felt, I still and will always love you” Brandon kisses your cheeks, his hand rubbing your back softly. “Would you like me to take you back home?” Brandon asks you.

“No, I wanna stay here and work it out with my boyfriend” you blurt out, Brandon widen his eyes up at you trying to calm the nerves laugh building up in his throat “I’m scared but I wanna give it chance, Brandon I still love you a lot and if theirs a chance of maybe reconnecting I’ll give it a go” you giggle caressing the nape of his neck “but can we take it slow?”

“Slow burns are all I want with you” Brandon mumbles pulling you into a soft kiss wrapping his arms around your waist,lifting you up the both of you lay down on the bed. You in his chest with one leg on top of his. “You know if I fuck this up Zion said he would beat my ass?” Brandon laughs

“Really? Zion has feelings?” You laugh caressing his jawline with your fingernails, Brandon nods his head falling into your trance while rubbing the tips of y’all noses together “I’ve missed you so much” you whisper

“I’ve missed you more babylove, so much” Brandon hums on your ear laying kisses from your ear to your lips “and I love you” Brandon just spills his body tensing at the words that flew out. you just giggling kissing his lips on last time. “I love you too honey”

#prettymuch #prettymuch imagines #brandon arreaga #brandon arreaga concepts #brandon imagines

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avmisworld · 4 years

Text

BTS reaction to you being drunk:

Kim Seokjin:

You never really liked alcohol, it always tasted bitter to you and you weren't really interested in being completely unfiltered in front of other people. Yet, here you were, in a bar in Seoul with three of your best friends, after they had literally dragged you out of your house.

The reason you had agreed to drink was because the outing was planned as a celebration for one of your friends' birthday, and you couldn't really say no to her puppy eyes and pleads.

The problem here was that you hardly ever drink, which resulted in you being very lightweight. Like, comically lightweight. So after one bottle of suju you were already fairly tipsy.

At the end of the night, you find yourself standing outside of the bar with the rest of your friends, teeth chattering due to the late night cold and dialing the number you knew by heart.

"Hey, sweetheart", you smile automatically at the sound of Jin's sweet voice, your hazy mind screaming with happiness at the thought of your boyfriend staying up until you get home. "Where are you?"

"I'm here", you slur into the phone, "And I want to cuddle, so come get me.", you demand in a whiny voice, pouting into the cellphone as if Jin can see your face.

"Ohhh... "Here" you say?", Jin sounds amused despite your seriousness, and your pout grows even more. "Mind sending me the address, love?", He asks ever so patiently, and you can already hear the dangling of the car keys in Jin's hand as he gets ready to leave.

"Okay", you mumble, hugging yourself tightly as you rock on your heels, regretting not bringing a jacket with you for this weather. "Just get here fast", you beg, already missing your boyfriend's soft hoodies and warm hugs.

"I'm on my way, cutie."

***

"Seokjinnie~~~~", you jump on your boyfriend as he opens the driver's car door and walks towards you, looking cute as ever in a soft pink sweater and black Adidas joggers, his dark blue slippers making a soft slapping sound against the sidewalk when he stumbles back from the force of your jump, wrapping his arms around your waist with a huff of surprise.

"Y/N", he laughs, setting you down gently, and pushing a strand of hair away from your eyes. His cap is pulled low over his eyes to avoid being recognized, but you can still see his full pink lips, and the need to kiss him overcomes you suddenly.

"Jinnieee~~~ You're so handsome, you know?", You mumble when Jin intertwines your hands, leading you to your car after thanking your friends for staying with you.

Jin smiles, opening the passenger door for you and pushing you in gently, before leaning forward to put on your seat belt for you. "I know", he replies, winking at you cheekily.

You stare at your boyfriend with heart eyes as he straps you in your seat and then fixes the strap of your blue glittery dress from where it slipped down your shoulder.

"You're so sexy", you continue, making your boyfriend chuckle as you continue to praise him, "And your lips are so prettyyyy. I wanna kiss them all the timeeee.", You say, reaching your hands to squeeze Jin's cheeks between the palms of your hands, causing his lips to pucker, and making you giggle.

Jin shakes his head, releasing your hands from his face gently and moving backwards to close your door.

"Let's get home, and then you'll kiss them as much as you want, okay?", He says when he starts the car ignition, shooting you a fond look before starting to drive.

You yawn, the warm air from the AC and the soft music playing on the radio causing you to fall into a dreamlike state. "Okay, sexy", you mumble, eyes drooping as you lean your head back on the car seat.

You can hear Jin's windshield wiper laugh in the back of your mind, but you don't really acknowledge it, eyes falling closed and breathing steadying as you fall asleep.

Yoongi:

This day had been a pain in the ass, to be honest. Your boyfriend, Yoongi, had completely dissapeared from your shared apartment lately, due to BTS's upcoming comeback, and he had been practicing and recording all month long, which usually resulted in him sleeping at the boys' shared dorm instead of coming back home (if he even got any sleep).

Usually, you knew how to deal with being alone. But today, even your most trusted friend couldn't hang out, and your apartment never felt so lonely.

All this resulted in you opening your boyfriend's favorite cabinet, and grabbing a bottle of his expensive vodkas.

Only after downing half of the bottle, did you start to realize that a) your boyfriend is not going to be happy about his favorite vodka missing, and b) you were tipsy.

Rocking your body slightly, you stare at your phone beside you with a frown. It seemed as if it was taunting you, encouraging you to call Suga even when you knew you definitely shouldn't disturb him.

Sighing heavily, you decide that indeed, calling Yoongi wasn't acceptable. But bombarding your Kakao Talk chat with pictures of you, glossy eyed and blurry, surely was.

You: I missdsdss uuuu

You: Come bac homefkf

You: Plzzzz

You: Meowewww

Suga💞: What are you doing????

Suga💞: Why are you drinking in the middle of the day

Forgetting your agreement with yourself, you pick up the phone, clicking on your boyfriend's number on speed dial and pressing the device to your ear, taking another sip of the golden liquid in your cup with a sigh.

"Y/N, I'm in the middle of recording", Yoongi says the second he picks up, and you pout, mad at the lack of attention you're getting.

"I'm sowwyy", you mumble in aeygo, "But I miss you lots", you pause before adding, "And I'm a bit drunk".

You hear Suga sigh on the other side of the line, exasperated yet undeniably fond. "Look, I can't talk right now, but I promise I'll come back home tonight, okay?"

You smile widely at the news, tapping your feet on the ground with excitement, your tears long forgotten. "Okay", you agree.

"Good. Now stop drinking and go take a shower or something. I'll talk to you later.", Suga says, ever the caring boyfriend, even when you constantly pester him.

"I love you", you say into the phone, softly, because you really do, and even your drunk self thinks that Yoongi deserves to know it.

"Me too, baby".

Hoseok:

You stumble through the door, kicking your shoes off the second you cross the welcome mat and stretching your hands over you head as you let out a yawn, your black sweater riding up to reveal a flash your tummy.

You're drunk. And tired. You had went to hang out with a friend at her house and somehow you ended up finishing three bottles of soju and dancing on the rooftop of her house barefoot.

It was fun, but you were completely drained right now and the fact that you walked from your friend's house to your own apartment in your state, only made you more exhausted.

"Y/N?? Is that you?", You hear a cautious voice before the sound of bare feet against your carpeted floor reaches your ears, and you raise you red eyes to stare at your boyfriend, who looks somewhere between amused and worried at the sight of you.

Hoseok looks good, even at this ungodly hour, caramel brown hair tussled and chocolate eyes shining. He's wearing one of his silk pyjamas, dark blue and complementing his golden skin as he stands under the warm lights of your apartment.

"Hoseokieeee", you smile, reaching your hands out to your boyfriend as you stumble towards him, almost tripping from your own shoes you had kicked off seconds earlier.

Your boyfriend smiles back at you, catching you when you lean against him, hands wrapped lightly around his upper back, head tilted up to look at him.

Jhope's nose scrunches cutely when he smells your soju reeking breath, but he doesn't release you, moving his head back to avoid the bitter odor of the alcohol.

"Well, you've definitely had something to drink", he says sarcastically, wrapping his own arms around your waist to pick you up in his arms, bridal style, and carrying you to the kitchen.

"Wowwwww", you slur when your boyfriend places you in the counter, "You're so strong and manlyy".

Hoseok snorts from his place inside the refrigerator, taking out a large bottle of water and two painkillers from the medicine supply cabinet.

"Here", he says, handing you a cup with ice cold water. "Now open your mouth", he commands, placing the painkillers on your tongue before moving back and watching as you down the water, making a face at the feeling of the pills sliding down your throat.

"Good job", he says with a smile, leaning down to peck your nose briefly and making you giggle quietly. "Now let's go sleep, hmm? It's pretty late".

You consider this for a moment, hands wrapped around your boyfriend's neck and legs wound around his waist as you hum thoughtfully, not noticing the soft, yet exasperated look, he sends you as you pretend to think.

"Okay", you agree finally, "But only if we cuddle", you say childishly, crossing your arms over your chest in a pose that delivered your will to fight for your word.

Laughing, Hoseok leans to peck your lips gently, before pulling back, nose crinkled. "Of course, baby. But you really have to wash your teeth first."

Namjoon:

Going out with a bunch of co-workers to dinner, as a celebration of the year ending, not surprisingly led to a bunch of drinks being passed out.

You liked the people you worked with, to be honest, so you didn't really mind getting drunk next to them, especially when they were all in the same state you were.

By the end of the night, you barely stumbled into a waiting taxi, which you might've have invited, you can't really remember.

Leaning your cheek against the cold surface of the car window, you stare at the scenery passing by as you hum an unknown song, ignoring the weird looks sent by the taxi driver towards you.

"Excuse me, miss. We reached the address."

Your blink blearily at the sound of the driver's voice, shaking your head as you yawn loudly. Drinking always makes you tired.

You hand the driver a wad of cash way too big for the 10 minute drive from the restaurant to wherever you are, opening the passenger door and almost closing it before the driver hands you back a handful of bills with a small smile.

You thank him quickly, closing the door behind you and walking towards the tall building in front of you, and you remember hazily that this is where you live, with your boyfriend, Kim Namjoon.

You stand in the elevator with your black heels in your hand, bouncing slightly on the soles of your feet at the thought of seeing Joon in a few moments.

When the elevator finally open with a ding, you stumble out of it, knocking on the door of your apartment. Luckily, it was the only one on the whole floor, so you didn't have to worry about intruding some stranger's sleep.

"Who is it?", You hear the confused voice of your lovely boyfriend, and only then does it occur to you that you have a key in the pocket of your jeans, and this is your own house, so you don't really need to knock.

"It's meeee", you say into the door, smiling when your boyfriend opens it with a small dimpled smile. "Surprise!!"

Namjoon chuckles, pulling you forward with a hand wrapped around your wrist before closing the door behind you, locking it afterwards. "You scared me for a second", he says with a grin. "How was the dinner?"

He's wearing his favorite gold-rimmed glasses, perched on the bottom of his nose cutely. His currently caramel hair is softly strewn across his forehead, and the soft olive color of the robe he's wearing compliments his skin nicely.

Judging by the thick book in his hand, he's been reading before you arrived, but knowing your boyfriend, it was just an excuse to stay awake and make sure you come back home safely.

"It was funnnnn", you slur, wrapping your arms around his broad chest. "But I missed youuu".

Namjoon laughs, pressing a quick kiss to you forehead. "So did I", he assures you as he hugs you back tightly, running a comforting hand down your back.

"Now let's get you out of these clothes", he says gently, and you raise an eyebrow with a smirk, "Ohhhh, I like the sound of that".

Your boyfriend blushes deeply before shaking his head with a smile, the holes on his cheeks making something inside you melt at the thought of being the reason for this display of cuteness.

He takes you to your shared room and grabs one of your PJ's from your closet, as you sit on the edge of the bed, swinging your legs and singing "Persona" off key.

Namjoon helps you out of your skinny black jeans and white buttoned up shirt, taking your black sandals off your feet carefully.

When you're finally changed into your striped light pink pajamas with the cute strawberry illustrations, you let RM tuck you into the bed, covering you with a blanket and pecking your lips briefly. "Go to sleep, love", he whispers, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

"What about you?", you mumble, eyes already half closed as you struggle to stay awake.

"I'm just going to brush my teeth and bring you some water and painkillers for tomorrow", he assures you sweetly, pressing another peck to your chin. "I'll be back in a second."

"T'ank you, Joonie.", you whisper, feeling your boyfriend get up from the bed, and a hand stroking your cheek.

"Anything for you, baby".

Jimin:

You and Jimin had went on a date to one the best bars in Seoul, and now you were on the dance floor in your boyfriend's arms, swaying to the song playing loudly in the background.

Jimin looked amazing as always, his brown hair parted in the middle, glimmering against the bright lights, wearing a simple black tshirt with black skinny jeans and a matching belt. If looks could kill, you would be buried by now.

You were also wearing an all black outfit, a black mini dress with cuts on the upper thigh, matched with knee high boots, black as well.

Judging by the possessive way Jimin was holding your waist, he didn't really appreciate the people close to you, guys and girls as one.

You were already tipsy, since you and Jimin had both downed a few shots of alcohol before going to dance, and Jimin was way too handsome today, even more so when he was dancing, sweat trailing down the side of his neck, his hands wrapped around your lower back, pulling you even closer to him.

You pressed your forehead to Jimin's, smiling at him when you noticed the soft smile he was sending you. His eyes were dark, filled with lust and want, but also love and softness, and it was making your head dizzy.

Throwing all your self restraint out the window, you pressed yourself to your boyfriend's body completely, wrapping your arms securely around his neck as you leaned forward to capture his lips with your own.

Jimin tasted like alcohol, unsurprisingly, but also like the mint toothpaste he was addicted to and the watermelon gum you were chewing before you got here.

Your boyfriend let out a soft noise of surprise, but kissed you back immediately, making you smile against his lips.

The kiss was soft yet passionate, but you didn't want soft, you wanted Jimin. One of your hands on Jimin's neck trailed up to his hair, tugging on it softly as you bit on his lower lip, making him growl lowly.

Your tongues met with fiery passion, curling against each other as you both let the need consume you, ignoring the people bumping into you. You let out a soft sigh when Jimin's hand run down the curve of your ass and the top of your thigh before coming back to your waist.

"Babe", Jimin pulled away first, breathing heavily, lips red and swollen as he leaned in to place a sweet kiss on your neck. "We should go home", he mumbled against your skin, hands playing with the fabric of your dress absentmindedly.

You sighed at the feeling of your boyfriend's soft butterfly kisses and nod silently, hugging him tightly as you both sway left and right slowly, not minding the fast tempo of the song playing.

Jimin releases you after sometime, leaving one last peck to your puffy lips before intertwining your fingers tightly and leading you through the crowd, occasionally balancing you when you stumbled.

You walk outside the bar with your boyfriend, and he laughs when you start skipping down the street, still holding his hand as you drag him with you, hair flying behind you due to the wind.

"You're so drunk, baby", he laughs, shaking his head with a smile when you turn around, eyes wide and shining with mischief.

"Skip with me", you demand, and Jimin tilts his head back, laughing.

"I'm serious", you whine, pouting at Jimin and shaking your interlocked hands. "Come on".

Jimin sighs, unable to resist your puppy eyes. "I'm not drunk enough for this", he mumbles, but starts skipping with you down the street, thankful for the absence of people due to the late hour.

"You're lucky you're cute".

Taehyung:

You and Taehyung had went out for dinner with some of his many friends, at a fancy restaurant in Seoul.

Despite not knowing said friends very well, and being quite shy, Taehyung managed to convince you to come with his cursed puppy eyes and pouty lips, so here you were.

It actually was fun, and you got familiar with Tae's friends surprisingly quickly. The conversation was fluid and the food was tasty, and you were enjoying yourself. Maybe too much, judging by how your head was spinning.

Taehyung was completely sober next to you, since he hates drinking, his hand interlocked with yours under the table, rubbing circles on the back of your palm with his thumb gently as he conversed animatedly with his friends.

You were talking as well, a little too loud, laughing at the most random moments and just being lively in general. Any other time, you would be utterly embarrassed with how you were acting, but the nice buzz in your head prevented you from thinking clearly.

Taehyung was looking at you fondly, an amused smirk on his lips as he watched your drunk behaviour. To him, it was adorable and silly, but knowing you, you would be super embarrassed tommorow with the way you acted, so he decided to save you from yourself.

"Well, I think we'll get going", he announced, ignoring your pout as he helped you stand up, wrapping a hand around your waist loosely.

"I don't want tooooo", you whined slightly, making Taehyung's friends chuckle and your boyfriend roll his eyes in fond exasperation.

"It's late, Y/N, and I'm tired. You have work tomorrow as well", Taehyung reminds you patiently, and you huff in annoyance, your drunk state not allowing you to care in the least about something as trivial as work.

Still, you can't say no to Taehyung's pleading eyes, so you say goodbye to his friends before exiting the restaurant, leaning on your boyfriend's side.

It was cold outside, and the thin pink blouse you were wearing and short black skirt wasn't helping you warm up in the slightest.

You shivered against Taehyung, tucking your face a bit more into the side of his neck as you waddled along, and he noticed, frowning momentarily before taking off the long white coat he was wearing and slinging it over your shoulders.

"You'll never listen to me telling you to take a coat, will you?", He sighs as you cuddle into the warm fabric, the heat the wool let out making you feel drowsy.

You didn't answer, knowing your boyfriend was right, instead turning to backhug him gently, arms wrapped around his stomach as he continues walking with you attached to him.

"Don't need to", you say, pressing your smile into the back of Taehyung's gray knit sweater, "You always take care of me".

"Yeah, I should really stop doing that", Taehyung responds teasingly, covering your hands with his own as you reach the car.

You giggle, breathing in the scent of Taehyung's sweater: his original scent that can't be taken away. "But you won't", you mumbled, eyes closed, "Because you love me".

Taehyung hums, detaching you from him gently and spinning you around as he opens the passenger door for you, covering your head with his hand so you won't hit the ceiling of the car when you get in.

"I love you, too", you say, smiling at him goofily and making him smile softly at you- his automatic response whenever he sees you smile.

"I'm sorry I'm such a burden", you say, making Taehyung frown from where he was putting on your seatbelt, clearly not expecting the sudden sad tone of your voice.

"Hey", he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye, "I wish all my burdens were like you", he says gently, making you let out a wet chuckle as he places a soft kiss on your lips.

You let your eyes fall closed as your boyfriend starts the engine of the car, Taehyung's soft humming lulling you to a peaceful sleep.

Jungkook:

Jungkook places the now empty bottle of red wine on the table with a satisfied sigh, before leaning back to place his head in your lap.

The two of you are sitting on the couch in your apartment, where you were having movie night, aka another excuse to drink together in the middle of the week.

You were sitting on one end of the couch, all the pillows supporting your body as you lean to the side, while Jungkook was spread on the rest of the space, legs dangling on the other end.

The movie you two were watching was long forgotten, and you were now both giggling drunkenly as Jungkook made weird faces from his place on your lap.

Despite being a bit tipsy, Jungkook wasn't as lightweight as you were, so he was still a bit surprised when you got up suddenly, grabbing his arm to pull him up with you.

"Kookie", you say with a smile as he stares at you in fond confusion, "Let's dance".

Jungkook smiles at you, raising an eyebrow. "There's no music, babe", he says, placing his hands on your waist as you wrap yours around his shoulders.

"Oh", your smile fades for a second, while Jungkook's grows, finding your drunk behaviour too adorable. But then your grin comes back again, in full force. "You can sing, Jungkookie!"

Jungkook laughs at that, throwing his head back, before looking at you again. "What do you want me to sing, cupcake?", He asks gently, pushing a strand of hair from your face as you continue swaying slowly to an imaginary beat.

"Hmm...", You think for a moment before your face light up again. "Maybe... Euphoria?"

Jungkook smiles softly, eyes crinkling. You were probably the biggest fan of Euphoria there was, and you continusally proved your love for the song, even so long after it was released.

"You are the sunlight that rose again in my life, A reincarnation of my childhood dreams...", Jungkook starts gently, his honey voice making you smile as you lean your cheek against his broad shoulder, hugging him tightly.

"Take my hands now", Jungkook pulls away to kiss your intertwined hands sweetly, his soft black curls tickling the skin of your palm.

"You are the cause of my euphoria", his doe eyes shine as he stares at you, the look in his eyes so loving and pure that it melts you from inside, making you weak in the knees.

When your lips meet Jungkook's, everything fades away, the kiss so delicate and beautiful that you let out an unintentional sigh, melting into your boyfriend as his hand reaches up to cradle your face, the other curling on the hem of the oversized blue hoodie you were wearing, one of his hoodies you always "borrowed".

Jungkook pulls away after you both run out of air, pressing his lips to your forehead as you both regain your breathing.

"I love you", you whisper, your tipsy state of mind allowing you to say things you were usually too shy to say so freely.

"And I love you", Jungkook says back without hesitation, eyes honest.

"Good. Now give me a piggyback to our room. I'm tired", you command, making Jungkook gape at the sudden change of your demeanor.

"Aish, you're such a brat", he whines playfully, yet still crouches in front of you slightly, allowing you to clamber on his back, arms slung around his neck loosely as he gets up, tightening his hold on your thighs.

You place your head on Jungkook's firm back as he climbs up the stairs carefully, still singing Euphoria quiety.

"When I'm with you I'm in Eutopia".

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justmeandmyinnermostthoughts · 5 years

Text

The Wick Family Part 2: Warning

A/N: Here’s part 2! I don’t know how many parts there will be but there’s going to be several.

Also, I did my best to describe the Judo moves. I practice Judo myself and have done the moves I described. I’ve had the triangle head lock done to me by my instructor and it doesn’t really work on me (probably cause I’m small and the instructors are big guys). So I have personal experience escaping that hold and throwing much larger opponents. I based the practice off of personal experience, so please no hate. And here’s a link to a good video that shows the move I talked about: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2d4vWuDfG-M in case you’re curious to see what it looks like.

I guess I need to add warnings? But there isn’t really anything to warn you guys about. Just more of John being a cool dad and Winston makes a small cameo. Bit of trouble at the end.

Let me know what you guys think! And if you want to be added to the tag list, all you have to do is ask! (The gif is not mine, I pulled it from the search engine)

Part 1 ~ Part 2 (You are here) ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

~ ~ ~

“Alright kiddo, you ready?”

Celestial sets her feet and settles into her guard position, feet shoulder width apart, one a bit in front of the other, and her hands up in front of her chest, left arm out, right arm closer in. She’s relaxed, not tense, as she lets out a breath and nods. “Yep.”

John nods, his stance mimicking her’s. He quickly reaches his left arm out with the intent to grab the collar of her gi but Celestial clamps down on his arm with both hands and pivots in on her left foot, squaring her center of gravity under his and pulling him off balance via his arm over her left shoulder. She continues to pull, shifting her weight so that John’s feet leave the ground and he’s flipped over her back, landing on the mat in front of her. Still holding his arm, Celestial tries to drop down and set him in an arm lock with her legs across his shoulders and his wrist pulled up towards her left shoulder. But before she can get set, John bridges, arching up onto his heels and shoulders and rolls onto his left side, pulling his arm out of her grip. He shifts, getting his right arm under her head. With his left hand he pushes her left arm to the side, trapping it between her neck and the side of his head. He locks his right hand in the crook of his left elbow and places his left hand behind the back of his head, completing the triangle with his arms. Celestial grabs a fistful of John’s gi with her right hand and reaches as far across his back as she can, grabbing onto his gi with her left hand as well. As John shifts his legs to complete the lock, Celestial bridges, getting her hip and right side underneath him and begins to pull him to the left. She manages to flip John over her and onto his back, using her small size to slip out of the head lock. John lets out a loud breath as his back hits the floor and finds his right shoulder and arm pressed into the side his throat as Celestial shoves his arm over and slides her right arm under his neck. She’s quick to swing her legs off to the side and set them as she grabs a fistfull of her own gi with her right hand and the collar of John’s gi with her left. She begins to pull on his gi as she applies pressure on his arm and neck, putting her body weight behind it, cutting off John’s breath and the arteries that supply blood to his brain. The speed at which Celestial completed the triangle head lock has John quickly tapping the floor as his vision turns red.

The pressure releases at John double tapping the floor as Celestial releases him and rolls away. She sits up on her knees and toes, hands on her thighs as she watches John sit up.

He rubs his neck as he turns to look at her. “You’re getting good at that one.” His voice sounding a bit rough. He coughs to clear his throat and sits across from her, one arm resting on his knee.

Celestial looks a little concerned. “I didn’t hurt ya, did I? You did hit the mat hard when I flipped you. And I know you said to press hard on the headlock but-”

John holds up a hand, cutting her off, and shakes his head. A small smile pulling at the corner of his lips at her concern. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I’m fine. And you did really well. You didn’t hesitate this time, which is good. But, since you’re concerned, why don’t you tell me the difference between sparing with me and when you’re sparing at the dojo.”

Celestial shifts her legs so she’s sitting criss-cross and sits up straight. “When at the dojo, you bow to your partner before you start and after you finish. And whenever you perform a throw or otherwise cause your partner to fall, you’re supposed to support them by pulling upwards on their arm and keep them from landing too hard on the mat. But with you I don’t need to do that.”

John nods, “And why is that?”

Celestial shrugs. “I don’t know. ‘Cause you’re a superhero?”

John laughs, loud and happy, without restraint. A wide smile lighting up his face and his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m a superhero now, am I?”

Celestial grins back at him. “Yea! But not a lame one like Batman. You’re a cool superhero like Hawkeye or Deadpool or Antman! Or… or like Mr. Incredible! He’s a cool superhero and a cool dad!” She laughs, jumping up to her feet.

John shakes his head, still smiling, and stands up. “Why don’t you like Batman?”

She shrugs, “He’s too edgy and he tries too hard.”

He chuckles, “You’re the expert. We’re done for today. Why don’t you go put your gi up and then we’ll go out for lunch. Maybe stop by that comic book store you’ve been wanting to go to? Sound good?”

“Really? Awesome!” She throws her arms around his waist and hugs him tight. “Thanks, daddy.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Smiling, he pats her back. “Go on. Get changed. You can tell me more about those superheroes of yours on the way.”

“Okay!” She runs out of the room, grinning.

“Don’t forget to hang your gi up!” John shouts after her before untying the cloth belt and taking the gi jacket off, revealing his, now wrinkled, white shirt. He drapes it over arm as he leaves the room, turning the lights off in the training room and shutting the door behind him. He makes his way through the house and to his room. He shuts the door quietly and sets the white gi jacket and black cloth belt down on his bed. The sunlight streaming in through the curtains lighting up the room as it reflects off the white bedspread and carpet. John stands there for a moment in his bare feet, well worn white gi pants and his classic white t-shirt, just listening to the quiet of the house. He lets out a breath before reaching up and pulling his hair out of the already loose bun he had it tied back in, letting it fall around onto his shoulders and around his face. It’s getting a bit long, “Should probably get a haircut soon.” He mumbles quietly to himself as he moves to his dresser. But Celestial likes to braid it so he probably won't. A soft smile lifts his lips as he picks up a picture of Helen holding a giggling three year old Celestial. “You should see her, Helen. She’s getting so big. She looks more like you every day. You’d be proud.” He keeps his voice low and quiet as studies Helen’s smiling face. He brings the photo to his face and presses his lips to the frame. He sets the photo down and grabs a new shirt from the dresser. He begins to move around the room, changing into a pair of dark wash jeans and, another, white t-shirt. He smirks. He can hear Celestial teasing him about his ‘boring color scheme’ already. He puts on his shoes before combing his fingers through his hair and tying it back into a low tail.

John leaves his room and makes his way downstairs. The dog trundles up to him, his tail wagging, and John bends down to pet him. “Want to go with us today, bud?” John asks as he scratches the dog behind the ears.

John’s cell phone begins to ring on the stand behind him and he looks over his shoulder at it before standing and picking it up. His breath catches in his throat as he looks at the number on the screen. The phone rings once more before John answers the call, raising the phone to his ear.

“Johnathan?” A familiar voice speaks on the other end of the line.

“Winston.” John’s voice is low and gruff when he answers.

“It has accidentally come to my attention that you may be hosting some uninvited guest shortly. I might suggest taking your daughter on a trip for the weekend.”

As if summoned, the young girl comes bounding down the stairs dressed in jeans and a colorful t-shirt, a backpack slung over one shoulder. She uses the end of the handrail to spin herself around the corner. “Okay dad! I’m ready to…. go?” She stops in her tracks as she sees the frightening look on her father’s face. “Dad?”

John holds up a finger towards her, telling her to wait a moment, and turns his head to the side. “I think we’ll do that. Thank you, Winston.” He hangs up the phone and turns to the girl. “Go pack a bag Celestial. We’re going out of town.” He begins to turn away.

“But-”

“Don’t argue with me, Celestial!” He snaps as he turns back to her. The sudden intensity directed at her makes the girl flinch and take a step back. “Go pack a bag, and be quick about it.” John says, lowering his voice.

“Okay. For how long?” His daughter asks as she starts back up the stairs.

“A week or two. Be quick.” He turns to the dog, picking up the leash from the stand and hooking it to the collar. He takes a few quick steps to the hall closet and yanks the door open, grabbing the duffle bag tucked into the back. He steps back up to the stand by the front door, grabbing his keys and wallet out of the bowel. “Come on Celestial. Let’s go.” He shouts, his voice echoing through the house. He hears a faint creak behind him and begins to turn. Something heavy connects with the back of his head and John’s vision goes black.

~ ~ ~

Tag list:

@fanficsrusz @mikaneonox @celestiaelisia

#The Wick Family #The Wick Family Part 2 #father!Wick #father!John Wick #daddy!Wick #daddy!John Wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #dad!john wick #dad!wick #keanu reeves

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years

Text

Tempest in a Teacup: Six

“You’ll be at one of the shows, right?” you ask, sitting on a stack of folded mats watching Clint get target practice in.

He can hear the anxiety in your voice despite how casually you ask the question and he stops to look at you. You look like you’re trying not to look worried. Or upset. But you are and he knows it. He may have only heard your end of the phone conversation you had with your mom an hour ago, but he knew.

Clint hid behind bravado. You got polite. Polite, and quiet, and meek. Even if the words burned your mouth coming out. The longer Reggie railed at you the less confrontational you got until your replies were barely audible. Or barely replies.

He smiles a little, “Unless something major happens,” he promises, “I’ll be there opening night. With Nat. And anyone else I can wrangle into coming.”

You nod and go back to sketching. Idle doodles that you could turn into anything. Probably a new dress design for Pepper to show off. For such a practical woman, she liked having her own personal designer to make her fancy dresses. Clint went back to shooting, half keeping an eye on you. It was hard to get a fix sometimes on how you were feeling.

You were good at being okay when you weren’t.

It was another thing Clint added to his list of sins. He and Reggie hadn’t exactly been ready for you and they hadn’t exactly given you a life where you could just feel your feelings as they happened. He supposed that that’s why you were so good at art. It was the one place you didn’t have to hide anything. “How is the production going?” he asked.

You shrug, “It’s a show. My crew are a bunch of stoners, my cast is... a cast, and the director is just flaky. But we’ll get it together.” Clint snorted, “So, pretty standard?” You nod, “You know, if I spent as much time actually managing as I do keeping my lighting guys from getting high in the back lot I’d get a lot more done.” Clint just shook his head, smiling a little. You were laying on the mats staring at the ceiling now. Purple hair spilling down like ink and one foot dangling off the end. Anyone who didn’t know better would think you didn’t have a care in the world right now.

Clint wanted you to be little again. To be able to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and heft you around, making you giggle. He wanted your biggest problem to be a skinned knee and learning guitar. It felt fundamentally wrong to him that something as simple as dating someone would cause that much of a disturbance. That anyone would make you feel bad because you cared for someone... Even if he wasn’t sure that person cared for you the way they should.

_________

Opening night of the show, Clint has a Posse. A whole herd, really. Tony and Pepper, Nat, Steve, Bucky, Thor, and of all people, Loki. The front lobby ahead of the auditorium is decked out. It looks like an honest to god museum. A fancy presentation. With ushers and Artifacts on display. Clint whistles softly, “Wonder where she put the mummy case she made?” he asks. There’s a punch that looks like champagne and Nat snags a glass with a smile, “Inside probably... Isn’t this supposed to be like a murder mystery thing?” Clint shrugs, “I’m just here to admire all the pretty shit.”

It takes a moment for them to catch sight of you. You look neat and professional in a sensible dark skirt, white blouse, and red heels. You’re putting on a headset and clipping the battery pack onto the back of your skirt. You look focused and Clint takes a second, fiddling with his hearing aids. Sometimes, if he sets it right, he can hear the backstage chatter and he cares about that more than the rest of the show. He can hear you quietly calling cues for the atmosphere. Reining in all the opening night jitters. When the lights flicker and people are being shone to their seats you disappear. Back to the back to get everything. The show is fun. Thor enjoys it a good deal, laughing loudly. Loki is confused, but he supposes that, for Children, it’s well done. Clint listens to you. Which leads to him snorting involuntarily at some things that aren’t meant to be funny. Kat is on stage and she does fine. She’s funny, even if she does overact a little. And by the time the show is over, Clint can hear you getting tired.

He supposes being the working memory for a whole show is tiring. At the end of the show as the Cast takes their bows to thunderous applause and the Audience makes their way out, you’re standing against a wall barefoot, talking to a hand full of people who are doing the cleanup and reset. He doesn’t miss that you’re studiously ignoring Kat for right now and up close you look like your nerves are getting frayed. Half a second later when Kat has her tongue halfway down another girl’s throat, it makes a lot more sense. “Oh no,” Nat said softly. Clint winced, “What do I even say?” he asked. Not only was this happening, but it was happening in front of everyone. “Don’t. Say. A. Word.” Natasha murmured, “Just get her out of here.”

Clint nods and walks over to you, letting you hide your face in his chest as he hugs you hard. “Good show, Punk,” he says. The others try really hard not to lurk awkwardly. Pepper and Natasha both look ready to hurt someone and Steve and Tony both reflexively grab a redhead and hold on. Clint doesn’t say another word. He just steers you out the doors after you put your shoes back on. The others let him walk ahead with you, giving you a minute to either break apart or hold yourself together a little tighter. “How about we introduce Thor to Chicago deep dish?” he says bracingly. You take a deep breath, “I’m really tired, dad,” you murmur exhaling slowly. He nods, “So we’ll send the others ahead,” he says. “You and I can go wander the museum for a while,” He pulls out his phone to text Nat and kisses your head. “It’s closing in a few minutes,” you point out. Clint shrugs, “I know a guy,” he says fondly, “C ‘ mon, punk.”

He takes your arm and walks you to his car. In the ugly street lamp lighting, you look pale and tense. It makes Clint feel sick.

This is too many feelings all at once for a kid. For any kid. This isn’t a dad thing. It’s a mom thing. And your mom is.. well. Less than mom like. For the millionth time in your life, he wishes he was a better parent.

At the museum, he lets you lead. You’re just barely able to hold it together. You can’t take any more pressure. It doesn’t take long for you to find your favorite piece. The click of your heels in the empty rooms feels too loud so you take them off and carry them. When you sit on the bench, feet crossed at the ankles, Clint sits next to you. It doesn’t take long.

You burst into tears, hiding your face in your hands and all he can do is pull you close and rock you gently. He doesn’t try to hush you and he doesn’t try to make it better. He knows you probably feel like it will never stop hurting. “What happened, baby girl?” he asks gently. You tell him the story between sobs. Crying so hard that at one point he has to hand you a trash can so you can be sick. She used you. Not even for anything good. Just to get back with her ex. Clint cringed, “That’s fucked,” he said, “Jesus Christ, kid.”

“Right?” you say, leaning against his side, “Who fucking does that? Like damn. Just get your nipple pierced and go do ho shit for a minute like a normal goddamn person. Fuck.” The rest of it is in Gaelic which he doesn’t understand but, Clint can’t help it. Your accent is flaring up and it’s funny. He snorts and you groan, “My head hurts.”

“Well,” he says gently, hugging you and kissing your forehead, “It might help if we get you something to eat.” You nod and he smoothes his thumb over your cheekbone, “You up for pizza?”

You nod again, “I don’t want to go home.” Clint frowns but stands, holding out a hand for you to take, “So we won’t do that. You can stay with Nat for the night and she and I will stay for the rest of the shows.” It’s not up for debate and so you don’t try. In a way, it’s comforting that they’re going to be there.

He walks you back to the car and when the two of you walk into the restaurant, no one so much as mentions Kat. It’s as if she didn’t exist. The others quietly filled in Thor and Loki about what the fuss had been before you arrived and Loki had been summarily threatened if he so much as thought about saying anything. You stayed quiet, mentally and physically wrung out. Too tired and numb after your cry out to be particularly funny or talkative. “You need sleep,” Nat said finally, “you look exhausted.” You can’t even protest, “We have two shows tomorrow and your first call time in 9:30am... It’s gonna be a long fucking day.” Nat pulls you to your feet with a groan, “You’re really lucky I like you,” she teases, giving you a second to hug Clint goodnight and say goodnight to everyone else before she marches you to the elevator to put you to bed.

“So,” Tony asks as soon as you’re out of earshot, “What the fuck?”

Clint sighed and told them what you told him. “That’s fucked,” Steve said. “Right?” Clint said.

It didn’t take long for them all to decide to stay. Well. Thor decided for Loki he was going to stay. But they figured a show of force. Or at the very least support might get you through the next day without having you fall apart.

Tony handed Clint a drink and squeezed his shoulder, “How was the museum?” he asked. Clint took the drink with a sigh, “She cried so hard she made herself sick and yelled about things for a minute,” he said. “What I could understand of what she was yelling was funny so... I think she’ll be okay.”

“What’d she say?” Steve asked. “What I understood was ‘Who fucking does that? Like damn. Just get your nipple pierced and go do ho shit for a minute like a normal goddamn person. Fuck.’ The rest of it was in Gaelic and I’m probably lucky I couldn’t understand it.” he says. Bucky coughed, “Wow... that’s... Is that what girls do after a break up now? What happened to ice cream?”

Clint snorted, “Fucked if I know, I’ve not been on the dating scene in a while.”

“You and Natasha date,” Thor pointed out. “No,” Clint clarified, “We hang out... And she helps me raise my kid. It’s more than dating but... not dating.” Thor was left to think it over and Pepper dragged Tony off to bed. Clint sighed, “Man, fuck being a teenager,” he said, “I wouldn’t do that shit again for anything. Especially not now.” Steve nodded, “I mean, there’s no polio now,” he said, “That’s helpful.”

Clint rolled his eyes, “On that now, I’m going to bed. I better go now if I’m gonna hit that 9am call time.”

“Do we all have to go to that?” Tony called.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Clint called over his shoulder, headed to the elevator.

_______

Upstairs, you and Natasha lay facing each other on the bed. “I’m sorry, princess,” she said softly, stroking your hair as you finish telling her what happened. You sigh, “I just. I really loved her.” When you start crying again she wipes away your tears with a tissue carefully. “I know you did,” she whispered, “You still do.” There’s a shaky breath and you nod again, “I hate this,” you say softly, “I feel sick and it feels like my heart’s being ripped out every time I look at her.”

“It’ll get better, princess,” she says softly, “It’ll take a while. But one day you’ll wake up and it won’t be as bad. And then another day, this is just a bad few weeks.” You make a soft unhappy sound and Natasha smiles a little, “I promise,” she soothes. “We’ll be with you this weekend to get you through it,” she said, stroking your hair, “After that, I’m a phone call away,” she reminded, “You need anything. Even if it’s just something you need to yell about.” You nod, your eyes closing. You’re exhausted but you can’t seem to settle down.

She laces the fingers of one hand through yours and continues to stroke your hair, humming softly. It’s a Russian lullaby, you know. But you don’t know the words. Nat’s never told you the words, she says she only remembers the melody. But it’s familiar. She’s done this since you were little. Since your dad was on a mission and you found your way to Nat. Even when the spy was afraid to be near you she was nice. So when you were scared and stuck to her like glue, needing an anchor in the cold utilitarian SHEILD compound, she’d held you in her lap while she typed, humming to herself and you'd finally fallen asleep with your head on her shoulder.

That’s how Coulson and your dad had found you after a moment of panic when you weren’t in your bed. Passed out on a Russian Spy’s shoulder while she typed mission reports and hummed pieces of a Russian lullaby.

Tags: @lancsnerd @stevieang @golddaggers @blameitonthecauseway @qxeen-of-hearts @process-pending @xmarveled @beautybyfire, @etherealwaifgoddess, @mschellehitt

#Dad!Clint #natasha romanoff #clint barton #hawkeye #tony stark #steve rogers #Bucky Barnes #platonic avengers x reader

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sweet-steddie · 5 years

Text

All Wrong (g.d. & e.d.)

Requested: No ma’am!

Summary: Angst, believe it or not! Visiting the Dolans’ house after you get off early from work puts you all in an awkward situation.

A/N: I haven’t written angst for any fandom in a long ass time, so I’m definitely rusty! If you didn’t want angst from me, no worries. I have plenty of other fluffy requests just waiting to be filled and posted for you all to see! On another note, I’m still stunned every single day to see people reading and reblogging my work. I love you guys, wow!! Hope this one is just as fun as the other ones. Enjoy!

2k+

My tires come to a near screeching halt as I hastily pull into the lot in front of Ethan and Grayson’s house. I put the car in park and quickly do away with my seat belt, grabbing all of my essentials that are within reach and all but throwing myself from the car and shutting the driver’s side door with my hip. I can only hope that the boys are home as I approach their front door.

I had texted them about an hour ago, asking if they were down to hang out. Surprisingly, I hadn’t gotten a response from either of them. But, I chalked that up to them maybe filming for a video. Seeing their cars in the driveway now more or less confirms that theory. I had figured that if I showed up anyways and happened to arrive while they were shooting, I’d just chill out until they were done. Keeping this in mind, I knock lightly on the front door, careful to keep my noise to a minimum.

I wait for a few long seconds, tapping my foot somewhat impatiently. It occurs to me suddenly that there’s a spare key under the doormat and I don’t wait much longer before I’m bending over to retrieve it. I allow a few seconds more of a grace period before I jam the key into the lock, twisting it with practiced ease and shoving the door open. I tiptoe in and quietly withdraw the key from the door, pushing it to a gentle close behind me before walking a few strides to the living room and setting down all of the junk that I brought from the car on the nearest surface.

“Grayson?” I call out, shrugging off my jacket and letting it blanket my belongings on the couch. A few seconds pass with no response, save for the sound of music playing in the distance. It seems to be coming from the direction of the bedrooms. I roll my eyes, kicking off my shoes.

“E?” I try instead, once again, to no avail. I exhale through my nose, following the the music to its source, which appears to be Grayson’s room. I hum along to the music as I get closer to his door, tapping my fingers rhythmically onto my thigh before lightly twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open ahead of me.

“Hi - “ I begin, only to stop abruptly in my tracks, the air whooshing out of my lungs and my mouth hanging open around unspoken words. My greeting falls on deaf ears. Four pairs of deaf ears, to be exact. The scene unfolding before me includes a naked Grayson, nether regions obscured by the girl that’s fully sheathed on his length. Her features are impossible for me to decipher in my haze; all I can see is that she has long, honey blonde hair that’s messy from clearly strenuous activity. She’s laying on her back, taking every punishing stroke that Grayson delivers into her. He’s glistening with sweat, hard pecs prominent under the sticky sheen. His stomach visibly flexes with each roll of his hips.

Next to them is an equally naked Ethan, except he’s sitting with his back resting against the headboard, a brunette girl grinding sensually on his lap. Her palms are resting on the wall behind the bed and I vaguely register Ethan’s large hands cradling her, running up and down her back. Now that the door is open, I can clearly hear the sounds of grunting and groaning and moaning and creaking bed springs over the music that I heard from the living room.

“Oh!” I exclaim reflexively, still unable to look away. It’s like watching a train wreck. And speaking of train wrecks, I’m pretty sure that something equally destructive is happening in the depths of my stomach. It’s like two holes open up, one in my chest and one in my gut, as I watch my boys fuck into the nameless girls. At the sound of my exclamation, all movement comes to a halt. Grayson makes eye contact with me first. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Shit! I didn’t know you were,” he trails off uselessly, gaping repeatedly like a fish out of water, “when did you get here?” he settles on instead. I find myself physically unable to answer and, as we continue our intense eye contact, it dawns on me that I should probably look away or something out of courtesy. I decide to slap a hand over my eyes. There’s silence for a considerable length of time, the previously drowned-out music now the only noise consuming the five of us.

“Fuck, I thought you had work until 8,” comes Ethan’s familiar voice after a moment, tinged with shock and maybe a little bit of panic. My throat feels too dry to even produce much sound at the moment, but I give it a shot nonetheless.

“I got off early,” I respond meekly, realizing much too late that my choice of words is more than ironic in the current situation.

“Who is she?” I hear a female voice chime in this time and I almost visibly startle, suddenly remembering that the boys and I aren’t the only people in the room.

“Is she gonna join us?” the other girl asks and, by this time, I’m absolutely numb. Before the questions can advance, I interject.

“I’ll see myself out, I just. Sorry. Shit, sorry. I’ll just be,” I gesture behind me, not even sure with my temporary lack of sight if I’m motioning in the correct direction, “I’ll go.” I finally splutter out before removing my hand from my eyes, but keeping them closed as I grab wildly for the doorknob and pull the door shut with a resounding click. Once I open my eyes back up, I hastily spin on my heel and move as fast as my bare feet can carry me back to the living room, gathering my things back up just as quickly as I’d set them down when I arrived.

The sound of Grayson’s bedroom door reopening gets drowned out in my near-frantic haste to slip my shoes back on and force my arms back into the jacket that I’d previously shrugged off. I scan the couch for anything I might have missed, eyes too glazed over at this point to truly register my surroundings. I’m so hyper focused on making my escape that I jump at feeling a hand on my shoulder. I plaster on what I hope to be a look of nonchalance before I turn to face two anxious looking twins, both donning nothing but boxers and guilty frowns. Before anything can be said, I watch the blonde and brunette girls sweep through the area, now redressed, looking disheveled and more than a little disgruntled.

They waltz past Ethan and Grayson without so much as a word, implying that they must have been asked to leave, mid-fuck. The front door slams behind them and then, silence. No more music, no more creaking bed springs, no more nothing. I allow my eyes to journey around the room that I’ve seen a million times, scanning over the details as if it’s my first time visiting. Try as I might, I just can’t seem to face the boys; not right now.

“Please say something,” comes Grayson��s voice lowly after several wordless seconds. And that’s when I feel the telltale pinch behind my eyes. The stinging that follows is accompanied by a flood of tears welling up above my lash line. I bite the inside of my top lip hard enough to leave a harsh indent and leave my eyes watering from physical pain, instead. I clear my throat to no avail, cheeks still warm as my first tear spills. I swipe it away without a second thought, focusing intently on my shoes.

“Babe,” Ethan starts, beginning to walk towards me, but I put a hand up and he stops in his tracks. I take a deep breath in and look up at the boys with already bloodshot eyes. Up close like this, I can see Ethan’s neck and collarbones marred with love bites. Grayson appears to have a particularly prominent mark on his chest. I laugh humorlessly; nothing about this situation is funny.

“Why am I crying?” I ask rhetorically and, as expected, neither boy answers. They seem to be having trouble maintaining eye contact with me now. “You guys can fuck whoever you want, date whoever you want. I’m jealous for no goddamn reason.” I feel myself slowly getting worked up again.

“It’s not fair for me to be acting like this,” I continue, talking to myself more than anyone else at this moment. No one seems to know what else to say, so we stand in tense silence for a moment. I clap my hands together, gaining the boys’ eye contact for the first time since I began my outer monologue. “Well if that’s all,” I begin, leaning down briefly to pick up my keys, “I’m gonna head out.”

“You aren’t staying?” Grayson asks in the smallest voice I’ve ever heard issued from his mouth. His disheveled hair is a nasty reminder of what I walked in on and my momentary inclination to give in is gone without a trace.

“No, I’m not staying,” I declare, feeling so many emotions that I barely feel anything at all. That’s the last thing that’s spoken before I shuffle toward the front door. “I’ll put your spare key back,” I say without turning around, pulling the door closed in my wake and flipping up the doormat with my foot, dropping the key lazily onto the ground before kicking the mat back into place.

I unlock my car and get back in. The turnaround time between me leaving the car and coming back is so short that the car hasn’t even begun to heat up in the sun yet. I jam my keys into the ignition and start the car up, taking one more deep breath before the tears begin to finally fall at their own will. The strong front that I’d almost totally maintained while inside the boys’ house is a mystery to me, considering that I felt like I was deteriorating from the inside out ever since I set foot into Grayson’s room.

A few shaky, uneven breaths escape me as I peel out of the lot, making a beeline for my own apartment several miles away from here. I don’t bother to wipe my tears as they cascade continuously down my cheeks, knowing that there’s no use. My chest feels tight, a contrast against the empty feeling that had swept through it minutes earlier. When I reach a stoplight, I’m able to glance at the way my hand is fisted so tightly around the steering wheel that it’s beginning to cramp.

I reflect on my misery, justifiable or not. Grayson and Ethan don’t belong to me. They’re their own people and I feel like an idiot, assuming that they would remain celibate until I finally decided to partake in sexual activity with them. I realize that, over the time that I grew as close to them as I am now, I had internally concluded that their only means of pleasure were self-inflicted. The silly little make out sessions that I’d indulged in with the both of them were meaningless.

A part of me had always convinced myself that their kisses and lingering touches and pet names meant something. I had found solace in being their plaything and the title had never felt more fitting than now. I’ve always considered myself to be special in their lives. And maybe I am, in a way. But it was made abundantly clear today that, romantically speaking, I didn’t have a horse in the race.

I subconsciously complete all the right turns and stops until I’m rolling into the parking garage designated for my apartment building. As I swing into a parking spot and stop the car, I come to another crushing realization: neither Grayson nor Ethan has reached out since I left. The silence that they had maintained when I walked out of their house had translated to their lack of text messages or missed calls. Before they have a chance to prove me wrong, I power my phone off and throw it onto my passenger seat as if it had singed my hand. One recurring theme clouds my mind as I stare out of my window: I was wrong about them. I was wrong about us. I was wrong.

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junionigiri · 5 years

Text

Peony Pink and Cherry Blossom Tea Ch 6: Can We Talk

Summary: Things go wrong in the feelings department in the worst way

Relationships: Todoroki Shouto/Uraraka Ochako; past Shindo You/Uraraka Ochako; background Tokage Setsuna/Jirou Kyoka

Rating: T

Warnings/Notes: um. Angst and I’m sorry about that. Pls don’t hate Yui

“Hey there,” someone says from behind her. “That’s… an interesting thing your doing to our weights.”

Uraraka Ochako, fifteen years old, first year student of Ketsubutsu High’s general studies department, looks guiltily from the floating set of weights to the owner of the voice.

Her eyes meet dark hair, all messed up but in a nice way, like he just rolled out of bed. A handsome face with a sharp jaw, a little dirty and scratched from a scuffle. His gym clothes are all soaked with sweat and burnt and torn to shreds at different areas. He smells like he rolled around a barbeque pit, making her wonder what the heck are these hero course students doing, killing themselves in training?

“Oh,” she says in embarrassment, releasing her quirk on the weights all at once. They fall noisily on the concrete floor, making an ugly sound that causes both of them to flinch. “Yeah, sorry. Am I allowed here? If I’m not, can you pretend that this didn’t happen? Sorry, I got bored, and my friends--”

He raises two pretty eyebrows at her, lets one side of his mouth curl up in interest. “You got bored waiting for your friends, so you started floating weights around? Most girls just play on their phones or text, or something,” he says with amusement.

She shrugs and scratches the back of her head. “I would, believe me, but--”

Her phone is an ancient thing with a huge line in the middle of the screen that dies when she uses it for more than fifteen minutes. It’s at ten percent right now, and she left her charger at home, and she really didn’t want to walk the 2 kilometers to her tiny apartment in the darkening city without a working phone.

She doesn’t want to explain the pathetic story of her phone and poverty, though, so she stammers out, “Much more interestin’ usin’ my quirk than playin’ Candy Crush, that’s fer sure.”

He guffaws, and she sees a row of perfect, mesmerizing white teeth. “Well, you’re right about that,” he says. “You’re also right about you not being allowed here. This place is technically for hero course students only.”

She flinches. “Um… okay… so about the pretending part--”

He tilts his head, a smile that’s both playful and devious on his lips. “You asking me to be an accomplice, Ms. General Studies?”

On the surface, that easygoing smile is telling her that it’s okay to say yes. But Ochako finds something a little disconcerting under that facade of his--she knows he’s plotting something under that pretty boy face of his, but what?

She stares dumbly at him, not really sure what to do, until he laughs and breaks the tension. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t see anything,” he tells her with another easy smile. “Just don’t do it again. You might wreck our equipment with that quirk of yours, ya know?”

She feels her ears turn red. “I’m sorry, I just got surprised. I don’t get to practice my quirk as much as you guys,” she says, picking up the weights one by one, floating the heavier ones in the air. She tries to be gentle with the landing, but partial gravity release is hard. When she releases them, the guy has to run and catch them in one hand.

Muscles in his arm bulge as he does. She bites her lower lip.

She isn’t sure if he notices. He pauses a bit, eyebrow raised. “That’s too bad, ‘cos your quirk is cool. If you went to the heroes course, I think we’d work really great together.”

She blushes further. No-one has ever told her that her quirk was anything other than ‘okay’, because while it’s exceedingly simple compared to others, at least it didn’t make her look weird or smell bad. ‘Cool’ isn’t a term she’s ready to hear. “Thank you,” she says, because she isn’t sure what else to say.

The guy steps closer to her. “I’m not just saying it. I’m serious. You don’t look like you believe me.”

She laughs awkwardly and steps back. “I… I didn’t say that.”

“Here, I’ll prove it to you.” Suddenly her hands are in his, and he’s staring right into her eyes and she’s paralyzed.

She hears her heart pounding wildly in her chest, feels the blood rush from her brain to her heart to her cheeks and the sound is so loud she almost doesn’t understand what the boy tells her next.

“Let’s spar. Right here.”

She freezes. Makes a silly face that makes him laugh out loud.

“I’m serious!” he repeats, dragging her to the sparring area with cushions. She stammers all the way there, even when he somehow gets her to pull off her shoes and stand in front of him, arms akimbo. “It’ll be quick. You try to activate the floaty thing on me, and I’ll try to dodge. Promise, I won’t use my quirk against you or knock you out or anything.”

She gives him another ridiculous look, shakes her head. “Are you sure?”

He smiles lazily at her, and positions herself for combat.

With a smirk, she tosses her uniform blazer aside, rolls up her sleeves, gets into position.

It’s a tough seven minutes, but it ends with the over-enthusiastic boy hooting up the ceiling in excitement, and Ochako collapsing on the mat from sheer exhaustion.

She releases the quirk, and he falls, lands on all fours like it’s no trouble. He helps her up with one pull of a strong arm and asks for her name, as if the thought just came to him then.

What a weirdo, she thinks, and tells him her name.

After that fight, life goes on in General Studies. In between struggling with English and chatting with her friends about the cafes they want to visit after school, Ochako doesn’t think much about him, except in quiet moments where she’s alone and she’s free to squeal and smile and roll over in her bed like an idiot.

Two weeks later, she finds a letter in her locker--a messy scrawl asking to meet with her outside. No signature. Her girl friends squeal at the potential confession. She shrinks at the potential threat.

When she gets there, Shindo Yo, as promised, stands there by himself with just his easy smile and his sincerity. “Uraraka-san, I like you,” he says with an intense look in his pretty dark eyes that makes her melt. He takes both hands in hers again, making sure that her finger-pads don’t make either of them float this time. “Please go out with me.”

She manages to say yes, somehow, despite the fireworks going off in her little brain. The happy smile on his face makes her heart feel full. He holds her hand, fingers intertwined, and takes her home.

When they find out the next day, all her friends squeal and ask how the heck did you manage to get the most popular guy in the hero course to look at you? At the risk of admitting violating school policy, she keeps her mouth shut and her smile consistently mysterious.

Days later, she opens her shoe locker and finds it full of garbage.

Ochako, strangely enough, misses the unsophisticated, garbage-in-your-locker type of bullying in high school. Because at least then she has a concrete, visual evidence of all the nasty shit going on in those evil little minds of theirs. Plus she can make the garbage float above the bullies and make the icky shit drip over their heads. It’s a satisfying stunt she pulled off once, and paid for with a hard shove against her locker, which didn’t make it any less worth it.

Now that she’s all grown-up there’s nothing as solid as garbage that showed their nasty thoughts in striking clarity. Only whispers and dirty looks that just won’t die down. Only these so-called professionals making her wait for too long when she needs to endorse important things about patients, and then blaming her for her slowness when things happen. Only anonymous comments on her (already locked) social media accounts and on the HGH Facebook pages that make not-so-subtle comments about her spending so much time staring into Doctoroki’s eyes that she makes a lot of mistakes at work.

Her HGH ‘parents’ are enraged, of course. Mina especially is always on the verge of throwing hands at anyone who so much as squints in Ochako’s direction. Eijiro, the more rational parent, has been coaching her to tell the nursing supervisor about the goings-on, but how is she going to do that when one of them told her to keep her relationship from affecting her work?

Also! How can her ‘relationship’ get in the way of work, anyway, when there isn’t much happening in that area? Sure, they make enough public appearances (lunch in the very middle of the cafeteria, facing each other, fifteen minutes max twice that week!) to keep the charade going, but… Doctoroki and her have gone back to being quiet.

It’s not that they’re being cold. They text as often as they can, but things have been insane at work. Shouto needed to back-up Dr. Momo a lot this week. There has also been an increase in villain activity everywhere, which means more wounded civilians and pros to tend to. Ochako herself feels the strain. She replies to him diligently, tries to get a conversation going despite the hour-long gaps in between replies.

It definitely isn’t the same as the nice talk they had over the weekend. She supposes this is why there are articles and articles in girly magazines about how hard it is to date anyone in the medical profession--for them, time is a construct that only serves to tell them how much they haven’t accomplished yet.

But at least this time Shouto seems to be a little less clinical in his texts.

Todoroki Shouto (1434H): Got a case with pedia--trauma, burn injuries, just stabilized. The pro who rescued the child days ago just visited. Midoriya is having his pre-op crying session as we speak.

Todoroki Shouto (1434H): Should I comfort him, or let him be? I feel very out of place just watching him here.

Ochako giggles imagining the scene. Deku-kun doesn’t always need the pre-op sobfest, but in hard cases he does it to focus, and so he doesn’t burst out into tears in the middle of the OR. Or so he says.

Three hours ago, she realizes, as she looks at the timestamps. If the other nurses didn’t make her wait so long and didn’t give her such a hard time during endorsements, she might have been able to reply to him earlier.

She starts to type, sorry, Shouto… you know, im having a hard time with work lately

… and then shakes her head, puffs her cheeks, deletes. No, don’t… Shouto doesn’t need to hear your drama, he doesn’t need more emotional load, he doesn’t have that sort of responsibility for you. This isn’t real. Isn’t real.

Me (1737H): sry! Brought a couple of cases to med ward, took a while!

Me (1738H): i hope u told him he was gonna be okay! deku-kun needs a lot of tlc!!!

Me (1738H): work hard!!! I hope the baby makes it :(

She sighs and drops her phone in her scrubsuit pocket and patiently waits for her ‘tattoo date’ in the hospital lobby.

Her phone vibrates again, and she inhales a bit, hoping that it’s Dr. Tokage telling her that she’s on the way down and they can finally go to Illusion Inks for her next session with Jirou. It’ll be an hour of her being pierced with needles while watching two pretty girls shamelessly flirt while she simmers in mild jealousy, but it’s definitely better than moping about at home and waiting for the next reply from--

Shindo Yo (1740H): Hi, Uraraka-san!

Shindo Yo (1741H): Busy day at work, I bet (✖╭╮✖) it’s the same for us too

Shindo Yo (1741H): what r u up to?

She stares glumly at the texts. Of course it isn’t Doctoroki. She breathes, asks herself why she’s doing this, but does it anyway.

Me (1742H): I’m on my way out of work, senpai.

Shindo Yo (1743H): wow, ur replying fast to me today! Happy~ Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ

Shindo Yo (1745H): u must be rly rly pissed at work today huh? lol

Me (1747H): ig

Me (1747H): lots of villain attacks lately. busy

Shindo Yo (1748H): u know it :( we’re trying our best too. Just worked a double shift cos of that. Im beat!

Me (1749H): same

Shindo Yo (1750H): yeah u look like it 〈(゜。゜) gotta do sth bout that

She freezes and narrows her eyes at the text. Wait, don’t tell me--

Me (1751H): senpai. Dont be creepy

Shindo Yo (1752H): waaaah im not

Me (1752H): im callin security

Shindo Yo (1753H): pls dont i promise im not bein creepy!!!

Me (1754H): yes. u. r!!!!

Shindo Yo (1754H): only a little!!! just dont move ok?

From her vantage point in the middle sofa, she immediately looks around the lobby. There are only a few people sitting, waiting, speaking to the receptionist, who all suddenly turn to her with barely-concealed interest in their eyes.

She smells strawberries from behind her. When she turns her head, she gets a faceful of box and strawberry scent. “What the--”

“Whoa, easy,” that familiar voice says with a chuckle. “You really are extra pissed today, huh.”

She gets the box out of her face and gives Shindo Yo a solid glare. “Senpai! What are you doing here?!” she squeaks.

He isn’t wearing his skimpy hero uniform, thank god. He’s in a shirt, a leather jacket and skinny jeans, a lazy smile on his face that would have made her stupid with want in her younger years. He chuckles again and leans forward. No sense of personal space whatsoever, as usual. “Had business here. I’m just waiting for my associate to get to the lobby so we can time out.”

She raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. “We?”

“My new agency, remember? We’ve been crazy busy lately, but when we get time we try to see the people we help out on the field.” He moves the box around, as if it’s proof enough of his claims. “I just saw a young lady I rescued from an attack in Naruhata. She gave me an entire box of strawberry mochi. Which is sweet, but unfortunate, seein’ as I don’t really like sweets and all…”

Even though it’s not uncommon for pro heroes to do just that, especially the young ones, Ochako isn’t convinced. “Really. Where is she admitted?”

Shindo rolls his eyes, pulls out a card attached from the box and reads. “Dear Seismic-sama, Thank you for saving my life. Heart eyes. It isn’t much, but please accept my gift! This is my fav snack ever and I hope this makes you happy, exclamation exclamation. Stars and hearts and cute rabbit with hearts for eyes. Love, Luna-chan from room 432.”

He lets her read the card, and she has to admit that the glittery gel ink and the cutesy handwriting makes it look genuine. She stops narrowing her eyes. “Okay. I guess that’s pretty nice, senpai.”

“Right?” he says with a proud little grin. “Am I still creepy, Uraraka-san?”

She puffs her cheeks. “You still are,” she says with a petulant upturn of the nose. “I really thought you were waiting to ambush me! You really gotta be less weird when you text!”

“Haha, fine fine.” He tries to look apologetic, but not really. “So… you alone here? Are you waiting for Todoroki-san, or…”

“Oh… no… he’s busy,” she says. Instinctively, she looks at her phone and sees no messages. She wonders if the surgery is over.

“Hm. Odd.” There’s a little devious glint in his eyes as he says it, one that makes Ochako narrow her eyes at him again like he’s a creep. “What, I’m just saying! Because she told me she’s just finished talking to him, and--”

She? Who she? Also, what would Shindo know about Todoroki anyway? Seriously, why does he care so much about the two of them, when--

“Shindo-senpai. Uraraka-san,” someone says from behind him, making Ochako’s words of protest die in her mouth.

Two people approach from behind them, staring at their conversation as if it’s the strangest thing in the world. Ochako meets Kodai Yui’s raven eyes and glassy skin and aura of gentleness that she’ll never achieve in her lifetime ever. The momentary breathlessness that any normal person gets from staring at her magnifies upon seeing the person next to her.

“Oh… Yui-chan and Todoroki-kun,” Shindo says. Standard friendly smile on his face, a raise of an eyebrow as he glances at Ochako knowingly. “You guys done with your little talk?”

Ochako doesn’t mean to stare, but the way Shouto looks at her in a mildly perturbed manner makes her wonder how shocked her face must look like.

Yui nods. “Our patient is okay. Todoroki-san and Midoriya-san did well.”

The other pro nods, and then sticks his hand out to shake Shouto’s. “So I guess that means I should congratulate you, Doc? Yui-chan was so worried about Tanuki-kun. She was pretty happy knowing that you were on board the case and all, ya know?”

Face not moving the slightest, Shouto nods and takes Shindo’s hand. “Thank you. Seismic-san, right?”

“Nah, you can call me Shindo. Or, senpai. We didn’t go to the same school, but we’re both proper heroes, you and I,” he says, eyes creasing. “Uraraka-san calls me that, so I don’t mind if you do too.”

“Hm,” says Shouto, looking at Ochako curiously.

Ochako stupidly looks down on her hands.

Yui glances at the two of them with an unreadable look before looking at Shindo again. “Senpai, Yoarashi-san might be wondering where we are right now.”

“Ah, you’re right.” Shindo makes a bashful face and bows to the two of them. “Sorry for cutting our conversation off so abruptly, Uraraka-san! I guess we can continue next time, eh?”

“Huh? No, that’s--”

Before she can protest no, we aren’t talking about anything important at all, don’t say misleading things in front of my fake boyfriend, Shindo is already pushing Yui by her shoulders out of the lobby and giving the two of them a small wave of one hand. Soon, they disappear in the elevators, leaving the doctor and the nurse alone.

Shouto blinks once and trains his eyes to hers. “You two seem close,” he says neutrally.

She nods, bites her lower lip. “I knew him from high school.”

My first boyfriend, she wants to say. First person I ever loved. First boy to ever break my heart. Because it’s the truth, a distant one that’s so far away that she should feel nothing significant if she admits them.

Still, she doesn’t. And she wonders why the words don’t come.

“Hm,” Shouto repeats.

There’s something odd going on in his eyes, something very hard to read. Ochako decides that if he were to ask anything at all about Shindo, that she’d tell him everything--how they started and how they ended and how Shindo is weaseling himself back into her life and she’s probably giving him one too many chances to do so by replying to his stupid texts because she’s stupid and lonely and stressed over all the gossip and all the things going on in Shouto’s family that really isn’t any of their faults--basically all that she can’t tell Shouto because heaven knows he’s got too much on his plate as it is, and Shindo seems to like listening to her, but she really wished that it was just Shouto and her and none of this shitty drama--and even though none of this is real, sometimes it feels so real , just like their drive back from Shizuoka, and--

And…

And, Shouto doesn’t say a single word. And… all that senseless drivel dies down her throat. She looks down on her hands again and gives up on that trainwreck of ideas.

Instead, she braces herself and says, “You and Yui-san.”

He blinks. Without a word or a single movement, waits for her to continue.

She inhales as quietly as she can, and speaks again. “I didn’t know you guys spoke too,” she manages, without any incriminating lilts to her tone. Or so she hopes. “I mean… I’m not, you know--I’m just a little bit surprised, I didn’t know she was the pro you were talking about earlier--”

Ochako do you really sound as much as a jealous bitch as you do in your head?! You’re just stating cold hard facts, so don’t be weird about this. Don’t be stupid.

Shouto speaks, after a beat of loaded silence. “I should have texted you about her, I suppose,” he says quietly. “She went to us right before the surgery to make sure that--”

“Paging Dr. Todoroki to ER. Dr. Todoroki, to ER now. Dr. Todoroki--”

They look up the ceiling, then at each other, and down on the ground simultaneously. Open their mouths at the same time, wordlessly clamp them shut as if they’re each other’s awkward, awkward mirrors.

Shouto exhales quietly, and says, “I should go. That might be Dr. Aizawa looking for me. I heard there’s been another Nomu attack nearby.”

Ochako nods. She tries to give a bright smile. “Okay. Do your best, Todoroki-kun.”

“Okay. Be careful going home, Uraraka.” He looks down on her hands, that odd look never leaving. Ochako carefully stares at his mouth, waits for the usual smile he gives her before they part ways.

It doesn’t come. Soon she watches his broad back disappear as he goes past the doors to the ER.

Later, she realizes that she’s still holding the box that Shindo left behind. For Seismic-sama, the card reads, clearly visible to the naked eye.

She wants to shove her face repeatedly into the stupid mochi.

The bothersome feelings of that odd encounter don’t leave her, not even when Setsuna eventually makes it to the lobby and asks her why she looks like she looks like Dr. Shiozaki after talking to an atheist. She manages not to say a lot of how she feels on the way to Illusion Ink, but eventually caves to the heavy interrogation when Kyoka starts working on her tattoo again.

(It’s really hard to be dishonest while a sharp needle is drawing lines on the inner, softer side of your arm.)

She doesn’t tell them about the fake-dating scheme. Just her honest troubles about people talking shit and treating her like shit, but not hard enough that she can complain to people about it. People hinting that she isn’t good enough for Shouto, just because she’s an ordinary nurse with an ordinary face and an ordinary quirk, and how fucked up it is that people would rather see him with Yui-san rather than someone like her.

And actually seeing him with Yui-san, out of nowhere… that took her by surprise. Made her feel weirder than it should. Shouto didn’t even look that bothered when Ochako was eyeing the two of them with all those silent questions floating in her head. She was ready to listen to whatever excuse--no, explanation he would give, but he got paged, and all she has is that heavy shitty feeling in her tummy to bring home.

“Hm,” Kyoka says, as she lifts the needle and dabs her swollen skin with gauze. (Lots of people going hm this evening. She’s starting to get sick of it.) “And you say that Doctoroki saw you talking to that Shindo guy at the lobby, right?”

Ochako winces, but doesn’t say anything.

“Hm,” Setsuna concurs, as her sharp teeth work through a strawberry mochi. “Todoroki saw, all right. I was watching all of you from the back, ‘cause it looked like drama was ‘bout to go down--”

Her jaw drops, allowing a shocked stupid sound escape from it.

“-- and it was obvious that Seismic was super into you,” she continues without an ounce of shame. Her disembodied hand floats and stuffs a mochi into Kyoka’s mouth, who receives it blankly. “If I were Todoroki, I’d be super bothered. But he didn’t say anything at all after that encounter. Right, Ochako-chan?”

She closes her jaw, and winces again. That’s also part of why she feels like shit right now. “Is it weird that I feel bad that he didn’t feel bad about this?”

The other girls look at each other. “Well… I mean if it were us, and it was Yui instead of Seismic makin’ eyes at Kyoka-chan, I won’t be bothered,” says the lizard girl thoughtfully.

“I agree. Yui looks like a sweetheart,” the tattoo apprentice agrees with a sage nod. “I even got her photobook! It’s really nice, I understand why they had a stampede over it--”

“Oh shit, is it the unofficial one by the photographer, Spiral?” gasps Setsuna, eyes wide when Kyoka nods at her smugly. “Let me borrow please omg I heard the entire book is soul-cleansing, and heaven knows my dead and rotting soul needs cleansing--”

Ochako immediately realizes that she’s speaking with the wrong pair. She sighs as they gush a little more about Yui, until they notice her simmering in a pool of insecurity.

“Oh, but we don’t mean that you’re any less of a sweetheart than Yui,” says the internist with a cackle. “Uh… right. What I was saying was, it’s different, what happened earlier. Seismic and you? I dunno, I guess for others it looks like you guys were just talking but… when I saw you I had half a mind to get you out of there… something just didn’t feel right, I guess? And I was totally waitin’ for Todoroki to do the same, but...”

He didn’t. The little nurse twists her lip. “I wish you got me out of there, Dr. Tokage,” she sighs. “Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so…”

Disappointed. Guilty.

“Weird,” she finishes, with a sigh.

“Hm.” Kyoka and Setsuna say in unison, eyeing her with sympathy and suspicion and it’s weird how they mixed those together.

“Well,” the tattoo artist says thoughtfully, triangular eyes boring right into hers in the most grown-up glint she’s ever seen, “I get the confusion, I really do. You’re dealing with a lot at work, so you’re not at your best right now. Maybe that thing with that Shindo guy is nothing, and that thing with Yui is nothing, and maybe it isn’t worth it to be weird about it. But I think that all those weird things that you’re feeling should be expressed as they are to Doctoroki. You know? I mean… it might be a weird conversation, but you guys are in a real, adult relationship--”

She tries not to choke at the last part.

“--and real, adult relationships require real, adult conversations. Otherwise, there’d be misunderstandings, and trust me, those are the things you want to deal with as soon as possible. Right, Setsuna?”

Setsuna nods and gives Ochako a sawtooth smile. “Gotta say, Ochako-chan, you got your work cut out for you, eh? Shouto’s a talker, isn’t he?”

The nurse sighs deeply. He can be, if he wants to, but it’s obvious that he didn’t want to say anything earlier. Maybe for him it’s all nothing.

Maybe she should talk to him about it. But… how to start talking to Todoroki Shouto about… feelings ?

Yikes, Ochako. Good luck.

The troubled nurse closes her eyes as Kyoka continues shading the entire planet Saturn on her arm.

Me (2143H): hey! Im home from illusion ink. Arm hurts like crazy. Dr Tokage gave me a ride back. How r u?

Todoroki Shouto (2200H): That’s good. I’m waiting for our turn to use the OR. It’s going to be a busy night.

Me (2202H): Oh no. Please do your best! ;;;;

Todoroki Shouto (2201H): Thank you. I will.

Me (2217H): Say, Shouto. I know this is weird for me to ask, but

Me (2218H): Can we talk?

Todoroki Shouto (2219H): ?

Todoroki Shouto (2219H): We’re talking now.

Me (2220H): No, I mean. Like a real talk irl. Over food or sth

Me (2221H): I can treat you anywhere u like promise

Todoroki Shouto (2221H): Ah.

Todoroki Shouto (2222H): It might be difficult to do so soon. I’ll do my best to make time.

Todoroki Shouto (2224H): I’ll let you know as soon as I can.

Me (2226H): Oh! Thats totally fine i get wat u mean

Me (2228H): so yeah, i guess ill just wait for ur schedule to clear up;; and mine too hahaha

Me (2245H): ah, so, i gotta go to bed soon, got the morning shift tomorrow

Me (2246H): good night ^_^

Todoroki Shouto (0214H): Sorry about that. We just got out of surgery.

Todoroki Shouto (0215H): Please be patient with me, Ochako.

Todoroki Shouto (0230H): Good night.

Things happen. Outside, society’s on the verge of crumbling because villains keep popping up left and right.

Life in the hospital, however, goes on.

This week, Shouto and Ochako manage to make exactly one public appearance: a coffee run at the convenience store next to the hospital lobby, before he forces his sleep-deprived self to drive her home. She isn’t sure if he does it out of obligation to their set-up, or if he needed a functioning pair of eyes at the passenger seat to wake him up if he falls asleep on the wheel… which happens twice, at different stoplights.

They make it to Ochako’s apartment without incident. She watches him carefully as he rubs his tired eyes and takes a swig of the cheap coffee, which makes his mouth curl in distaste. “Are you going to make it home, Doctoroki?”

He nods, although his sallow eyes seem to say the contrary.

She swallows nervously and says, “You can… take a nap inside, if you want to--”

“I’ll be okay,” Shouto says, with sudden clarity. “I don’t want to impose.”

But you should, she thinks. “I don’t want you to get in an accident.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t. Promise.”

He drains the coffee, to prove his point further. Ochako continues to eye him warily, but it looks like entering her tiny home will make him more uncomfortable than dying on the road, so she keeps her mouth shut.

“You can… take a nap in your car, if you need to,” she says, unbuckling her seatbelt with a sense of defeat.

“Don’t worry about me.” He tries to look at her with some assurance. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home. Or when they pull me out of the wreckage. Either way.”

She laughs nervously. That’s all she can do at this point.

Thankfully, twenty minutes later as she sits on the floor biting her fingernails to the crescent, Shouto sends a photo of his car, parked safely in the garage. Home. I’ll be sleeping in a bit. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

And that’s that, for the week. Ochako feels a little empty, if she were being completely honest with herself, but really, she shouldn’t have hoped for anything different than this sudden exhausted back-and-forth between them.

She shouldn’t have allowed herself to feel much more than that.

Because as it happens, on the dull Tuesday that follows, all hell breaks loose in the feelings department, in the worst way that it can.

It happens like this:

1409H. Most of her work is done, she isn’t on deck for the next procedure. All her paperworks are done, and her shift is essentially over. It’s one of those rare good days at work where she finishes on time. Eijirou and Yuuga are done, too, and to celebrate the rare miracle of being out of the hospital in the light of day, they decide to treat themselves to a nice meal.

Eijirou and Yuuga argue about where to go for some time. In hindsight, Ochako thinks that things might have gone differently if Yuuga had insisted on wanting to eat Monoma’s croque madame a little bit more, but as it happens Eijirou convinces them that NTG cafe is the way to go, because have you even tried their truffle pasta Aoyama? Oh my god you should, and also he wants to see if the owner, Bakugou, is doing okay today. (He doesn’t elaborate much when he’s asked why he wants to check, though.)

Ochako hasn’t been to this cafe much--the first time she ordered something, Bakugou was manning the counter and had the gall to write RoundFace on her cup. Never mind how accurate it is, and how very amused Mina was at the time it happened, it was still pretty darn rude. But she digresses.

Today, though, the other blonde barista named Kaminari takes their orders, and they take a seat at the back of the cafe, near the exit at the other side.

As they wait, Yuuga gushes about the Idiabazal cheese he got thru the Cheese of the Month club. Ochako tries to be interested, but ducks down to send a message on her phone very quickly:

Me (1432H): I finished work on time today so im eatin out with eijirou-kun and yuuga-kun :) i hope work won’t be too insane for you today.

She stares at the screen for a good minute after she sends it, expects nothing and sees nothing. She pushes her phone back to her pocket, tries to lose herself in Yuuga’s sparkles, and…

The cafe collectively holds its breath, as the pro-hero Yui enters.

Even Yuuga pauses for a good second to say, “Ah! My, isn’t she stunning?”

Dressed simply in a sleeveless white shirt and jeans that fit her just right; very light make-up that enhances the glow of her face. Straight, dark hair that falls over her shoulders. She goes to the counter to place her order, not minding how Kaminari instantly goes whey and almost messes everything up.

“Yeah, she is,” Ochako admits with just a smidgen of sour in her voice. She watches as Yui regards the grenade-matryoshka bomb at the counter with prolonged interest, opening and closing the doll as if it’s the most amusing thing in the world.

Huh, she thinks, seeing the unmistakable smile on the other girl’s face. So she can do something else with her mouth…

She reprimands herself for sounding so mean, and goes back to sipping her cold brew.

The door chimes as another person enters the cafe. She doesn’t look up, not until she hears Eijirou cough, and Yuuga hum in surprise.

Ochako almost doubles over herself, when she sees the scene in front of her.

Todoroki Shouto looks mildly out of breath, like he ran on the way there. His coat is slung over his arm, and when he reaches out to touch Yui on the shoulder, she turns and stares at him as if she’s expecting him to be there.

“What the,” Eijirou mumbles, looking at Ochako with more than just a little concern.

They exchange very sparse words, and pick a table at the other, more intimate end of the cafe. They don’t seem to notice that they are there. When they sit, Shouto’s back is to them. Yui’s face is visible from Ochako’s vantage point, if she peeks over the other customers’ shoulders.

“Well… this is quite étrange ,” Yuuga whispers to her, conspiratorially. “Did you know about this, mon enfant? ”

She numbly shakes her head and keeps an eye on them from a distance. Yui seems to be saying, thank you for meeting me here, Todoroki-san. You must be busy.

Eijirou reaches out for her hand. “Baby, you okay? Maybe we should go there and say hi? You know, it could be nothing, and...”

Ochako shakes her head again, and watches Shouto’s head move a little as he speaks. The heroine replies with a curt nod. There are plenty of words being exchanged--she misses a lot of the words being said, and barely deciphers, I understand. For your family though, this might be important.

The blonde turns to her with a questioning stare. “ Mes amies, Ochako doesn’t look so well, perhaps we should leave instead, let her have some fresh air--”

“Shush, you two,” she snaps, a little too sternly than she means. Her two friends flinch and look down. She’ll say sorry later, but now she can’t feel any sense of apology, she can’t feel anything--

Okay, Yui says, an odd look in her eyes. Her mouth doesn’t move from its usual straight, impassive line. She says something that Ochako can’t quite catch, and then--

I want to hold your hand.

Shouto freezes. Ochako freezes even more, because Yui reaches out and holds his right hand, and he doesn’t stop her, and she says something in such a low voice, her mouth barely moving, like it’s a secret between the two of them, and Shouto leans forward, says something back, and--

“Babe.” Eijirou’s tone is sharper now, sharp enough to cut through the panicked haze that her head is suddenly lost in. “Ochako. Look at me.”

She does just that, and wonders why his face is suddenly so hazy and why it’s hard to breathe. When she inhales, it’s shaky, and an ugly sob wants to escape from her open mouth. She doesn’t let it though, she focuses on the way Eijirou is holding her hand and the way Yuuga is patting comforting circles at her back, keeping the sounds at bay.

“Let’s get you out of here, okay?” the redhead says softly. He shimmies out of his hoodie and places it on top of her shaking head. “You don’t have to say anything, we’ll just get you through the back exits, get you some fresh air--”

“ Oui, ma petite chérie, ” Yuuga adds, dabbing her cheeks with a paper napkin and glaring at the other tables, who begin to stare. “We’ll take care of you, do not worry.”

“Okay,” she hiccups stupidly.

They make it outside somehow, away from prying eyes. Ochako guesses and hopes that the faraway table doesn’t notice them and her and her stupid tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. Eijirou drives her home, with Yuuga tagging along, sitting in careful silence.

In her tiny apartment (the one Shouto doesn’t even want to step into, ahhh it makes more sense now), she allows her friends to sit herself down on the floor, wrap a blanket or two around her, play her favorite songs. Yuuga fusses about her bare kitchenette and somehow comes out with a cup of hot cocoa, while Eijirou sends an SOS to Mina and Hanta to come after their shift, if they can.

They ask her to talk, in turn. About her and Doctoroki, if there were any problems, if there were any signs. Because, social media aside, come to think of it, her friends don’t know a thing about the two of them. “I mean, I see you guys eat together at work sometimes, but I… haven’t seen you two talk up close. Except that time in the locker,” Eijirou says as gently as he can.

She shakes her head. Keeping up appearances is hard enough to do for the crowds and Shouto’s family. “We haven’t been… talking a lot.”

They never did get back to talking about their IRL talk. They ask why, and the urge to tell her closest friends about the fake dating scheme wells in her chest like a dam about to break, but she stops herself on time. Still, she can’t give another reason other than being busy. Eijirou and Yuuga look at each other and sigh in unison.

“Whatever is going on, mon cher,” Yuuga says, after they carefully try to wheedle more useless details from her, “You two simply must talk. Yes?”

Ochako sniffles and says, “But… talking is hard.”

She’s afraid of admitting to Shouto that she feels hurt, even though by all accounts she doesn’t have the right to. Especially when Shouto did all this in the first place ‘so no-one gets hurt’.

Eijirou laughs and ruffles her hair, like the brat that she is. “Yeah. It is. But I don’t think you’ll feel any better just not talking about this right?”

She buries her face in her fluffy blankets and whines.

Todoroki Shouto (1756H): Good work today. The patient we operated on is recovering really quickly.

Todoroki Shouto (1758H): Are you on your way home?

Me (1805H): ya i am. In mina-chans car

Todoroki Shouto (1806H): Okay. Let me know when you’re safe at home.

Me (1810H): …

Todoroki Shouto (1812H): …?

Me (1814H): why

Todoroki Shouto (1820H): …

Todoroki Shouto (1821H): I’d like to know that you made it home without anyone causing you harm or threatening you.

Todoroki Shouto (1822H): I don’t want a repeat of what happened in Shizuoka.

Me (1825H): ah. ya that makes sense

Todoroki Shouto (1829H): Are you all right, Ochako?

Me (1830H): yeah i am

Todoroki Shouto (1831H): You sure?

Todoroki Shouto (1832H): Please be honest with me

Todoroki Shouto (1832H): Whatever is bothering you, I’d like to know. I’d like to help.

Me (1834H): Doctoroki

Me (1837H): Shouto, I mean

Me (1838H): When should we break up?

#todoocha #todochako #shouchako #peony pink and cherry blossom tea #cafe/hospital au #todoroki shouto #uraraka ochako #shindo yo #setsujirou #tokage setsuna #jirou kyouka #kirishima eijiro #aoyama yuuga #kodai yui #angst ahhh #sorry

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makbaes-archives · 7 years

Text

playing house | 7

member: hoseok x reader word count: 1,775 warnings: hoseok is only in this for like, a millisecond

summary: it’s not like you’re hard pressed for cash, but there is that spring break trip you need to save up for, so why not grab your best friend and pretend to be a couple for some research study? what could possibly go wrong?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (m) Part 5 Part 6

“Rise and shine, baby doll!”

You jump at the sudden intrusion and reluctantly let go of the nearest blunt object you could find once you register the voice as Lisa’s. Mumbling into your pillow, you hike the covers over your head.

“Come on. Get up! It’s yoga time, remember? You promised me and Rosie.” Lisa pulls back the covers all the way to the end of your bed, and you shiver, lifting your head to glare at her.

“Why did I ever give you the code to my apartment?” Slowly, you sit up, rubbing at your eyes and yawning. “It’s too early. Why can’t we go later today?”

“To answer your first question: Because you were holding yourself up in here and missing classes, and I came to the rescue.” She goes to your closet and pulls out some workout clothes and throws them at you. “Also, this is the only yoga class they have, plus the teacher is super hot, and you need to get over Ho-”

She stops short when she sees you staring daggers at her.

“He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named,” she finishes with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, his name is Jackson, and I hear he has an 8-pack.”

You snort, “Who’d you hear that from?”

“Bambam. They’re friends.”

“So, you’re trying to hook me up with your boyfriend’s friend?”

“I’m trying to get you out of bed like you entrusted me to do. Now enough stalling! Get dressed. And try to look cute.”

Groaning exaggeratedly, you stand up and get changed. Lisa insists you put some makeup on, begrudgingly accepting when you go for a light, natural look.

There are more people in the studio than you thought would be for a class this early. Rosie is up at the front with three yoga mats already laid out for you all. She waves you both over, and you and Lisa sit down and start to stretch.

As soon as Jackson walks in, it’s suddenly not surprising as to why there are so many people in such an early class. He’s toned and handsome and has an incredible jaw line. He basically looks like a God, and you have to wipe the drool when he starts moving.

It’s an intermediate class, but he starts out with the basic poses first to get everyone warmed up, and then he eases into the more difficult ones. By the end of the class, you’ve worked up a sweat and can only hope you don’t look a total mess because Lisa is waving him over. He approaches the three of you with a smile, and you can hear the disappointed sighs of several other girls in the room.

“Hey, Lisa. Rosie. What’s up?” His eyes meet yours, and he holds out a hand. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jackson,” Lisa introduces.

You shake Jackson’s hand, not surprised by his grip at all. “Hi, nice to meet you. That was a great class.”

Jackson beams with pride, and you admire how handsome he is this close up. “Thank you. It’s a lot of fun. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“You know what else she enjoyed? Your-”

“Confidence!” Rosie interrupts, and you want to kiss her for it.

“Oh,” he laughs, cheeks tinging pink. “Thank you.”

Anything Jackson says after that falls on deaf ears the moment you spot him walking into the studio. Suddenly, you feel sick to your stomach. His dance practice isn’t usually this early, you think, and you wonder briefly if he’s just trying to keep himself busy, too.

Interrupting whatever is being said, you turn to Jackson. “Is there a class after yours?”

He blinks at you before shaking his head. “No, but-”

“Great! Would you like to join us for coffee?”

Jackson looks both confused and amused by your behavior. Lisa throws you a questioning glance before she spots what’s gotten you in a panic.

“Yes! Come join us! You can tell me all of Bam’s secrets.”

At this, Jackson laughs and agrees, following you all out. You loop around to his other side in an attempt to not be spotted. You think you make it out safely, unaware of Hoseok’s eyes following you out as you leave with some random guy.

It turns out that Jackson is one of the sweetest guys you have ever met. He’s loud and funny and a little much sometimes, but he’s also kind and caring and respectful.

A week later, after much insistence from Lisa, you find yourself on a date with him. Dinner and a movie, to be exact. Dinner is fun, thanks to his jokes and stories, and the movie is enjoyable, too, even with his arm around you for the second half of the movie.

But it’s when he’s walking you to your door that everything starts coming together for you.

“I had a great time,” you smile up at him. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure. I had fun.” And after a beat of silence, he leans in for a kiss.

This is the final piece clicking into place. There are no butterflies in your stomach as his lips touch yours - no fireworks exploding behind your eyes. Your heart doesn’t skip a beat. Not the way it did with Hoseok.

Hoseok.

That’s it. Jackson is just too similar to Hoseok. Not exact, no, but similar enough to feel the ache in your heart when you realize you’re not here with him.

Pulling away, you look up at Jackson nervously, biting your lip as you gather the courage to turn him down.

“I’m sorry,” you start slowly. “I thought I was ready to do this, but…”

Jackson gives you a small smile and nods in understanding. “Don’t be sorry. It’s… your ex, right?”

Glancing away, you nod. “Let me guess. Bambam?”

Jackson nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but… maybe there’s a reason you’re not ready to move on.”

You can’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “There’s a lot more to it than that.”

“Right.” He steps away and smiles as he gives you a little wave goodbye. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Jackson.”

As the door closes, you press your back against it, letting out a deep sigh, eyes falling closed and head falling back onto the door. Well, you think, so much for a distraction.

The next day, as you’re heading out of the library, you nearly smack right into someone. Pushing your hair out of your face, you see that it’s Yoongi staring down at you.

“Oh. Hi,” you mumble, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

“Can we talk?” He asks, making no effort to dance around the awkward tension.

Nodding, you follow him to the small courtyard on the side of the building. It’s quiet with just the two of you there. He sits on a bench, and you follow suit, keeping your bag in your lap in case you need to make a quick escape. Yoongi notices and rolls his eyes.

“Relax, will you?”

You sigh, letting the bag slip onto the ground. “Sorry. It’s just… weird.”

“Well, yeah, I’d say so after ignoring your friends for weeks.”

Blinking, momentarily stunned at his bluntness, you turn your gaze to your shoes. You should apologize, but before you get a chance to even open your mouth, Yoongi is talking again.

“He told me everything if that’s what you’re wondering.”

You were afraid of that. “And everyone else?”

“They just know you had a big fight and aren’t talking. And apparently aren’t talking to us either.” Seeing the look on your face, he continues. “They aren’t taking it personally. They know it’s hard to reach out with him so close.”

Sighing again, you run a hand through your hair. You feel so vulnerable with someone else knowing exactly what happened. You haven’t even told Lisa yet, fearing that she will tell Naya and all of her research material on you and Hoseok will be for nothing.

“So, I take it you’ve been a wreck?” He asks, and you scoff.

“Yeah, sure. We’ll call it that.” You lift your eyes to his. “How’s he doing?”

“Not any better. Especially after he saw you flirting with that yoga instructor last week.”

You groan. “Shit. He saw that?”

It’s quiet for a moment as you wallow in your stupidity. You consider telling Yoongi your side of things, unsure if it’s the reason is for some advice or to make yourself look better in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to tell him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him. I thought maybe I could deal with it, but… God, I’m so stupid. I let myself get caught up in everything, that by the time I realized it, it was too late. Someone was already going to get hurt.”

“Stop being cryptic. Realized what?”

“That I… I love him.” You’ve never said it out loud before - haven’t been able to - but once you do, it’s like a weight is lifted off your chest. “I love waking up next to him. I love cooking with him. I love when he falls asleep on my shoulder during movie nights.”

Tears sting at your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.

Yoongi shakes his head, but a smirk tugs at his lips. “I’m pretty sure we all knew before you did.”

You glare at him. “Yeah, well, I fucked everything up, so…” You laugh bitterly at yourself. “Everything was fine until we slept together. I just… panicked. I thought if I pretended nothing happened, that my feelings would disappear. But they didn’t, and it cost us our friendship.”

Yoongi groans and you cock your brow at him.

“God, you’re both fucking idiots. Why didn’t you just talk about it with him?”

“We did. And we agreed to pretend it didn’t happen in an attempt to not ruin anything.”

“And how did that work out for you?” He sighs, standing. “That wasn’t talking. That was hiding. You need to talk to him. I guarantee he’ll understand once he knows the full story. I know I sure do.”

“No. I can’t. I can barely look at him without falling apart. I don’t want to hurt him anymore. Let me give him space. Let me get some space to just… get over him, okay?”

“Y/N-”

“No, Yoongi. I’m sorry.”

Gathering your bag, you stand and leave him alone in the courtyard. He watches your back as you round the corner and disappears, and he shakes his head, wondering why he’s friends with two of the biggest idiots in the world.

Thank you for reading! The next chapter is the last :( As always, feel free to leave feedback <3

xoxo Tyler

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#kpoptrashtag #jhope fic #jhope smut #bts fic #bts smut #fic: playing house #hoseok fic #hobi fic

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