#you should’ve paid my rent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

namfinessed · 1 year

Text

so close - m.yg.

genre: major angst, fluff, second chance romance (13.5k)

summary: words are not enough for people who are so close and so in love, or a fic in which yoongi loses you but will do everything in his power to win you back.

note: writing after so long felt liberating, i hope you feel through my words.

this one is dedicated to my soulmate, @hopefuldreamlove

masterlist

“you know what? i’m done, i’m fucking done with your nonsense, i hope this stupid roof falls on your head!” your screams bounced off the walls loudly as you dragged your bags to the front door, you no longer recognized yourself.

when had it become this bad?

“i hope so too, at least that way i don’t have to hear you scream like a banshee on drugs, just get the fuck out already” yoongi huffs as he matches your vicious tone, but his chest tugs at him, begging him to move and stop you before it was too late, before you actually left and never came back. but his pride was stronger, he wasn’t going to beg you to stay, he was stubborn enough to pretend this didn’t affect him at all.

you don’t respond or even turn back to look at him one last time, you slam the door and trudge your luggage impatiently to the elevator.

yoongi couldn’t move, he watched the front door with pursed lips, he couldn’t believe that after all this time, this was how you two were going down.

he should’ve stopped you; he shakes his head at himself, he shouldn’t have even let the fight get so far, he should’ve stopped the second your voice wavered with unshed tears halfway through the argument but he didn’t, he waited for those tears to turn into simmering anger and yoongi didn’t do anything to make you stay. as always.

that was why you fought in the first place because yoongi had seemingly given up on putting any effort into your relationship.

halfway through the parking lot, you pulled your suitcases behind you with heavy steps, letting out puffs of breath with furrowed eyebrows, and then you paused. your heel stuttering as you narrowed your eyes, your hands loosened around the handles of your bags.

why should you leave?

you both were still owners of that apartment, both of you paid the rent and if you left now, you don’t even have a place to stay and you didn’t want to inconvenience your friends because yoongi was being an asshole, you also didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding a new apartment when you had a perfectly available one right above you (with three bedrooms!).

you smiled wickedly, if yoongi thought he was getting rid of you this easily, he was dead wrong because now, you were determined to make his life hell by living right next to his door and doing everything you could to make him uncomfortable.

yoongi didn’t hate a lot of things, but his personal space was always important to him and you were determined to make that space as worse as it could get and if he had a problem, he could always leave and find another place, he had the money to buy another apartment anyway.

with that happy revenge plan, you walked back to the elevator with a bounce on your step, you couldn’t wait to make yoongi’s life miserable.

yoongi, on the other hand, had been watching the clock since you walked away, it took every fiber of his pride to keep himself on that couch and not run after you but eventually, he knew that he needed you, he couldn’t ignore his sinking chest forever, so he ran to get his car keys, begging and praying silently that you hadn’t gone too far.

he reached for his phone as he made his way to the door, already texting your friends to see if you had gone to them.

imagine his surprise when you slam the door open just as his hand moves towards the door handle, he jumps back with a pounding heart and a rush of emotions fills him.

a mix of relief, remnants of his previous frustration, pure joy, and cockiness fill him as he sees you back in your home, his hands almost grab you into a hug but instead clench into fists and tighten beside his body.

“missed me already?” his lips curl into a smirk and your glare hardens, but you give him the sweetest smile in return, and yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

you looked furious when you left so, yoongi didn’t understand the smile on your face even if his heart jumped at the smile he hadn’t seen for a while now.

“don’t flatter yourself, min yoongi, i’m not back for you, i’m back for my apartment” you sing to him as you purposefully shove his shoulder on your way in, even running your suitcase on his toes accidentally as you walk past.

he winces and curls to grab his stinging foot, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” yoongi growls, any idea of needing you had left him swiftly as his anger returned with a vengeance.

“oops, sorry, didn’t see your foot there” you tried not to snicker as you said but you still had that shit-eating grin on your face and yoongi huffed, annoyance filling his every crevice.

“okay, what are you doing back here? i clearly remember you hoping that this roof falls on my head, did you come back for it to fall on yours too?” yoongi followed you as you walked to the guest bedroom, his footsteps speeding up to catch your pace but you remained one step ahead.

“you mean, what am i doing in my house? i don’t know yoongi, what do people do in their houses?” your voice was sickeningly sweet and yoongi ran a hand across his face in exasperation, “this is our house, can you stop being sarcastic for one minute and give me a straight answer?”

“as far as i remember and you are free to correct me, both of our names are on the lease, making both of us rightful owners, why would i go anywhere else when i have a home right here?” you level your glare with him as he stares back with an unreadable expression, “are you doing this just to be petty?” yoongi thought you had come back for him but now knowing that you didn’t, filled his chest with a bitter, ugly feeling.

“i have no idea what you are talking about, i am just choosing to live in my house” you shrug your shoulders as you put your clothes into the guest room’s closet, yoongi looks away with furrowed eyebrows, “stop calling it your house, it is our house” your hand paused at the longing in his voice but remembering all the nights you went to bed crying because of him, pushed you to just keep arranging your things.

“it is mine and yours, not ours,” you concluded and yoongi tried to shake off how heavy your words made him feel, “besides, i won’t even be bothering you anymore, think of us as roommates and nothing more until i find a new place.”

“roommates?”

“roommates.”

“you are going to find a new place?” yoongi asks, shifting on his feet, it was strange to see you occupying a different part of the house.

“of course, why would i stay here with you for longer than required?” you planned to just ruin his life for a little while and then leave to a place where you could finally breathe.

you just staying here would ruin it enough, you thought.

“you shouldn’t even be staying here right now” he bit back, masking the ache in his heart with insults he normally wouldn’t even think of uttering but that confirmed it for you that your decision to stay bothered him and that satiated your petty heart.

“if you have a problem with me staying, you can leave and find a new place” you gave him a large, sarcastic grin and yoongi’s eyes further narrowed on you. “i don’t give a fuck about you staying or leaving, just stay out of my way” yoongi mumbled and slammed the guest door shut.

you rolled your eyes as you continued shoving your belongings in place, you couldn’t wait for this lease to be over, just as much as he did.

the lease was supposed to be renewed after three months and you were hoping to find a place by then because as much as you taunted yoongi, you were planning to move out the next chance you get because you couldn’t stay around him and hate yourself for liking him still.

you spent the first two weeks, mostly staying out of home, you couldn’t stand seeing him working all day, even at home. that was why you two had fought and ultimately broken up over, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were hurt that he didn’t even try to change his ways.

your eyes glared at the eggs sizzling in the pan sitting in front of you as your hands tightened impossibly around the spatula you held.

were you supposed to cook eggs with a spatula?

were the eggs supposed to look that dark in color?

was whatever you’re holding, even a spatula?

your head tilted in confusion as you tried to rake your brain for things you learned from cooking shows and let out a sigh of frustration as the eggs you flipped had smoke coming out of them.

you never had to worry about cooking, as busy as yoongi got, he always made sure you at least had leftovers to heat up before he left for work but you would rather plunge yourself on a bed of legos than ask him to make your food.

besides, you could do this yourself, you have done much more difficult things than this in life, a couple of eggs and bread weren’t going to be that hard.

“are you seriously using a scooper?” you heard a low, groggy voice from across the room and you sucked in a breath, face heating up in embarrassment.

so, you weren’t using a spatula after all.

you stiffly nodded and yoongi snickered, “if you need a ride to the hospital after eating whatever you made, i will be happy to take you.”

you turned around with an annoyed huff, “as if you have time for anything besides being holed up in your studio, i will die before you even come and get me.” yoongi’s jaw tightened as you pointed your spatula (scooper) at him, and then, he released a long breath as another grin graced his face, “so, you agree? you agree that you will end up in the hospital after eating this?”

“even if i do, i don’t see how it’s any of your goddamn business, min yoongi, just make your fucking breakfast and don’t be such an insufferable roommate” maybe your words were harsher than needed, but you couldn’t stand being around him and not hurt him, as he had hurt you over the course of the past few weeks.

yoongi didn’t retaliate which only made you feel worse, but you held your chin high in defiance of your own guilt as he did exactly as you told, he kept quiet and made his breakfast.

and of course, he made a huge spread of everything from bagels to smoothies to chocolate pancakes, he put them right in front of you as he sat on the opposite side of the long island table as you stared down at your burnt eggs and bread with a clenched jaw.

for yoongi, work could wait right now but annoying you couldn’t.

“i hope you enjoy your breakfast, y/n, if you can call it that” yoongi gave you his brightest smile yet, the stretch on his face covering the otherwise sarcastic tone “because i know i will enjoy mine” he finished by shoving a forkful of the cream cheese and chicken bagel that he knows is your favorite. he knows how much you loved it when he made it for you after a night full of love and attention.

you glare at him with annoyance crawling up your arms and legs as he lets out a moan of approval at the bite, obviously putting on a show to piss you off more, your mouth waters involuntarily as he chews slowly with nods and loud hums of satisfaction but what finally drives you mad, is when he lifts his head from eating and gives you a cheeky wink.

your hands gripping the table's edge turn white as you forcedly push your body away from the table, abandoning your sad excuse of breakfast and stomping out of the room.

you hate that you can hear yoongi’s sinister laughter even after you slam your door shut.

this is what continues for you both, you accidentally unplug his computers, he accidentally drops juice on you right before you go to work, you accidentally break his speakers, and he accidentally puts your night plushie in the washing machine and reduces it to nothing but a shapeless fluff. the cycle continues, both of you determined to not let the other breathe peacefully, every night you slept while making a plan to destroy his day, and every morning you woke up to execute it.

it was childish, immature but it gave you the satisfaction you craved. seeing his usually passive face become irritated or waking up to his screams of frustration and curses filled you to the brim with joy.

you did start to question why you enjoyed it so much though, sure you wanted to give him hell but the whole process of planning it wasn’t what made you satisfied, it was purely his reaction to it.

“you just want his attention again” your dear friend, jennie, mutters as she glares at you while sipping her bubble tea. you immediately scoff at her; she had no idea what she was talking about.

“no, i want him to suffer” you correct her and she shakes her head at you, putting her drink down and leaning forward with furrowed eyebrows. “i worry about you, you know.”

“why? i’m perfectly fine” you shrug because you don’t see anything that she needs to worry about, you are moving on, you are making yoongi suffer like you wanted to, your work performance is still intact, and everything was smooth sailing. “no, you are not. i thought it was weird that you wanted to stay in the same house as your ex, but i didn’t say anything because you were in a sensitive place then. now, you have to admit that you are delaying staying away from him.”

“i’m staying in a house that i own and that i am paying rent for, it has nothing to do with min yoongi.” you jab a finger on the table as irritation fills you, but you also feel embarrassed? humiliation crawls on your insides as you try to maintain a passive face. jennie’s face softens and she reaches out for your hand, “i know how much he hurt you, don’t punish yourself by thinking you have to prove to anyone that you want to hurt him as he did you. your pain doesn’t need justification.”

you couldn’t sleep that night, all you could think of was jennie’s face as she uttered those words, her gentle hands keeping you anchored to the real world, the world where min yoongi shredded you to pieces without caring or knowing about it. before you know it, you feel tears escape down the side of your eyes and your hand shakily reaches out to muffle your sobs.

why couldn’t you just stop caring?

why couldn’t you up and leave?

what kept you tethered to a relationship that was void before you ever called it off?

and why couldn’t you just fucking stop crying?

you wanted to let your hand go, so yoongi can listen to your wails, to what he’s done to you, the damage he’s caused, the broken pieces that you struggle to pick up, maybe in some sick way, you want him to come and wipe your tears away, maybe you just want him to show up this once, to make up for all the months he didn’t. but you don’t let it go, you hold it tighter against your face because as much as you want him to know, you can’t. you can’t have him find out that your tears were because and for him.

you didn’t have to justify your pain but you did have to prove that you were moving on, so against jennie’s and all your friend’s better judgment, you decided a date night would just be enough to prove that you didn’t care about yoongi or whatever you had with him anymore.

you hummed lightly as you got your favorite dress out, it had an open back and whenever you wore it, yoongi couldn’t stop touchin-

this isn’t about him.

you huff in annoyance at your own thoughts as you lay your dress down on the bed, you are not thinking about him, not today and not ever, today is only about your date, you are going to have a good time, get lightly tipsy, and maybe even have a full-blown make out session if you get drunk enough for it and you will not think of yoongi at all.

you took a deep breath in as you started doing your makeup.

how long has it been since you got ready for a date? at least, a date that didn’t get canceled as soon as you were ready. your makeup brush slows in your hand as your heart starts feeling heavy again. you didn’t bother getting ready for anything if it was not with yoongi even when he canceled, even when he pleaded with you that he would be there and left you hanging.

you gave such little regard for yourself and you feel angry that you didn’t put yourself first, that you didn’t fight him right then and there, you feel irritated that you quenched your needs for as long as he made you wait.

you start getting ready with more aggression after that, you were definitely going to put yourself first now, yoongi gets none of you. you don’t need him for anything anymore.

except for maybe one thing.

you stand in front of the mirror with a scowl, your arms awkwardly bent to try and zip your dress up but your fingers are just out of reach for it, you start to hop awkwardly hoping that somehow hopping around will magically zip your dress up and start to groan in frustration.

“are you auditioning to be a kangaroo?”

you pause with gritted teeth at his amused voice coming from the doorway that you didn’t realize was wide open all this time.

this can’t be happening right now.

“can you fuck off?”

“and you will go out with your zip wide open, got it, i will be taking my leave.” He snickers and starts to head out, only to pause when a whine comes up your throat, you bite your lip to swallow your pride because you don’t want to ask him, but you have no choice.

“yoongi, can y-“

“can i?” he turns around in a flash, leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face, that you want to slap off.

“can you zip my dress up?” you mumble out in a rush and shift your feet to face him with half your body. yoongi whistles, looking away, acting like he didn’t hear you at all, and your eyes drop into a glare, you can already feel your irritation crawling up your skin.

“you heard me, stop acting like a kid.” you scowl at him as you stomp your foot.

“i did but a ‘please’ would be nice, you know, zipping a dress is tough work and i can’t just hand it out for free.” he was enjoying this way too much but his heart was dipping continuously as he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye.

when was the last time he saw you, all dressed up?

why can’t he remember the last time he took you out?

why can’t he remember the last time he fell asleep and woke up with you?

he clears his throat loudly as he makes his way across the room, your glare stays on yoongi as he approaches you but you don’t miss how his eyes stay downward as he walks with slow steps. you tilt your head in confusion as you push your hair to the side, to let him zip you up.

but he never does.

he stands behind you, looking in the mirror as you hold your hair up, he looks at you through the mirror, and your eyes meet his.

yoongi doesn’t look away.

you don’t look away.

your zip is long but forgotten.

and suddenly, you feel like the room is running out of air for you to breathe in.

you hadn’t been this close to yoongi in so long.

you can’t tell if he’s thinking the same thing, you can’t tell if he’s finding it hard to find air right now too, you can’t tell if his heart is beating as loudly as yours.

but sorrow fills you because, in all these months, yoongi has come this close to you, only to zip the dress that you’re wearing on a date with someone else.

“yoongi.” you whisper, so quietly, so delicately, as if you can’t bear to utter his name but you have to.

“right, zip.” he shakes his head at himself, quickly looking downwards and his hand’s ghost on the skin exposed to him, yoongi is suddenly unsure if he can zip you up or not, he’s unsure if his hands will let him only zip you up, he’s unsure of where that would lead to.

“where are you headed to?” yoongi tries to sound casual as clears his throat and his fingers finally catch the small zip at the dip of your dress, he takes his sweet time dragging it up, his eyes savoring every inch of skin he hasn’t touched.

you hesitate, you don’t want to tell him. actually, maybe you do, maybe you wanted him to know before but after the shift in the very air around you, it feels wrong. “a date.” your answer leaves you in a choke, just as he finishes pulling the zip all the way to the top.

he removes his hands from you like he’s been stung, and he steps back, yoongi doesn’t even breathe as he stands unmoving.

air rushes in your lungs once you notice the conflict in yoongi’s eyes, once you recognize the conflict forming a knot in your stomach and even air seems like too much for you.

the moment is over and you can feel your defenses climbing up too.

you are ready to fight him, you are ready to argue that you both were done, and that what you do with your time is none of his business and it never will be, and that you can kiss, fuck, do whatever you want with whomever you want.

because you two were done.

that statement didn’t feel real until this second. something about the statement felt like the most incorrect thing in the world to yoongi.

but he won’t say it.

he won’t hurt you anymore.

he can’t hurt you anymore.

“have fun.” his words are low, and curt and they fall into the silence around you both in a loud thud as yoongi quickly walks out of the room.

you are left in your dress, with a date you were going to be late to and a heart so heavy, you feel that you will drop it at your doorstep before heading out.

“isn’t that so exciting?” your date beams at you.

he’s cute, well accomplished from what you’re told and he seems interested in you.

you wish you could say the same.

but all your responses to him have been one-line sentences and tight smiles.

along with your pre-existing obsessive thoughts of yoongi and that goddamn zip, guilt bleeds into your system and so does dread.

guilt, because your date is as good as dates come, and he already mentioned that he would be more than willing to take time out for you and that he will be available whenever you want, that the next date will be whenever you are comfortable.

which should excite you.

which should delight you.

it should make you the happiest person in the world that he’s so openly giving you his time even if you are meeting him for the first time, it should make you the happiest that he seems enamored by you, that he wants to know so much about you. your friend had mentioned that this guy had been asking about you for a while and that when she asked, he had jumped in joy at the idea of going on a date with you, this should make you happy.

but it doesn’t, it sits bitterly in your mouth that it doesn’t make you feel a single thing.

you felt a million more flutters, kicks, and tingles in that one-minute yoongi zipped your dress up than you have for the past hour sitting opposite to your date.

dread also, slowly but surely, starts to consume you from the inside out. it scares you that maybe you will never feel all of that with another person, that you have somehow run out of sensation when it comes to someone else, it scares you that this might be forever, that you will never truly move on, that you can ever only pretend to move on.

maybe if someone else touches you.

maybe if someone else feels you.

maybe you have a chance of forgetting the ghost that yoongi left on your skin, maybe if someone else kisses you, you will be able to forget how his lips felt.

maybe if someone else could be exactly like yoongi but not like yoongi at the same time, you can survive this.

there’s no one like yoongi.

and you can’t do this anymore.

you stand up abruptly, your mind too loud to let you sit and listen to one more word that didn’t come from yoongi. your date sits up alarmed, quickly reaching for your hand to ask you what was wrong, to check up on you.

he is touching you.

his hands grip your fingers tightly.

he won’t let go until you do.

there is security in his touch.

but.

nothing.

you feel nothing.

your breathing stills at the realization.

your body doesn’t even bother with his hands on yours, it doesn’t even register that a person is holding your hand, asking if you’re okay. your body hates you.

before you know it, you are rushing out a half-assed apology and running out of the restaurant leaving your date confused and hurt.

you wish you could turn back and tell him you felt the same.

you were confused and hurt too, just for someone else.

a defeated weight held your head down as you walk back to your home.

the home that you share with your ex.

if you were in a better mood, you would maybe laugh at the situation you’ve put yourself in, maybe laugh at how ridiculous all of this is but you can’t bring yourself to even walk without feeling like the world was crashing on you.

yoongi heard your footsteps out in the corridor and he jumps back from the door he had pressed his ear against, running to the couch before you reach the doorknob. and just as the door clicks open, he snuggles himself into the blanket on the couch and evens his breath to pretend like he’s just casually fallen asleep on the sofa with a movie playing.

he wasn’t pacing by the front door a million times, trying to listen in to when you would come back.

he wasn’t going to reach for his car keys and come to find you.

and yoongi definitely didn’t feel the jealousy burning in his throat since the second you walked out for a date with someone else.

yoongi hears a thud and opens his eyes to the smallest amount he can see.

and he sees you.

that dress still takes his breath away.

but he can hear your breathing too.

it’s uneven, rough, and too quick, just like how it always is when you feel overwhelmed or frustrated.

yoongi stiffens in his position, both concern and anger filling him and the blanket slips from his shoulder a little.

was it because of your date?

did he do something to you?

were you alright?

his heart thumps uncomfortably as your step near his figure, he doesn’t know if you can tell that he’s pretending or not.

then you sit right by where he’s laid, on the floor, another defeated sigh leaving your lips, and yoongi wonders of the ways he could kill your date for making you like this.

little did he know, it was because of him.

“i can’t do it, yoongi” you whisper, seemingly to no one even if you use his name like you don’t want him to hear and yoongi confirms that you believe his act.

“i can’t seem to move on” a sad and tired chuckle follows that sentence and yoongi’s skin burns underneath the blanket, he’s never heard you this way. “and i know you have, i know you moved on a long time, long before we ever broke up but i can’t. even if you have, i can’t.” tears build in your eyes as you try to blink them away, you felt ridiculous, talking to him when he was asleep.

but you couldn’t help it, there was so much you wanted to say but you never got the chance to.

“i can’t hate you for moving on, but i can hate our situation for making it so hard for me to move on, i can hate myself for ever loving you, i can hate a lot of things” you nod to yourself, yoongi’s fists curl on his chest, if only he could throw the blanket away and take you in his arms. if only it was that easy.

“i can’t hate you, i can never hate you” you finish, your head falls with the weight of every thought you had.

if only you could tell him this when he wasn’t sleeping, if only he made it easier for you to say it to him.

yoongi’s lips purse, out of all the things he thought you would end the sentence with, that wasn’t one of them.

he was prepared for you to insult him in the vilest way possible.

he was prepared for you to blame him; he was prepared to take the blame.

but he wasn’t prepared for what you said or how you said it.

he wasn’t prepared for the sad kind of joy that filled his heart.

his joy was a paradox, too many faces for him to feel it at all.

you got up, turning the television off and pausing to look at him before you disappeared into your room and prepared yourself for yet another day of pretending to hate him.

yoongi could feel the weight of your gaze on him. he foolishly wonders if his hair is looking okay today, if the pajamas he chose today looked good on him, if he was looking presentable.

he can’t help it, you are standing in your prettiest dress and yoongi knows no one can be more beautiful than you, in that dress, in any dress, or in nothing at all. he only wants to be worthy of you.

then you do something that makes yoongi choke back a long breath.

you tuck his blanket back in place and your hands make quick work to cover his ears sufficiently.

it’s a simple action but it makes yoongi feel everything he did for you when he confessed his crush to you all those years ago.

then you step back and pad away quickly to your room and once your door falls shut, yoongi sits up immediately, breathing heavily.

he buries his head in his hands as frustration and something so similar to grief run through him in waves.

was he really stupid enough to let you go?

why did he feel regret now, when everything was concluded?

why did you have to tell him all of that?

his heart ached, his fingers ached, all of it was for you. and he looks at your door longingly.

you were wrong, yoongi thought. yoongi would die before he ever moved on from you.

and he never really let up a chance to prove you wrong.

at your door, his hand pauses in the middle of knocking when he hears your sobs on the other side.

if someone ripped his heart out, it would probably hurt less than this.

how badly he wanted to break down the door and hug you until your tears became his.

how badly he wished to caress your hair until you fell asleep.

how badly he wished you would fall asleep in his arms.

how badly he wished, against his awareness of the selfish nature of his wish, to see you in that dress one last time.

yoongi could open the door, he could do all of this, he could grant himself everything he wishes for but the door wasn’t the only barrier between you two and he became painfully aware of all the invisible barriers you both held up now.

he can’t just leave and come back when he wants, it wasn’t fair on you.

so, yoongi, regretfully and slowly, takes a step back and disappears into his studio where he catches no sleep.

but hey, he could at least finish a song that night.

that night, yoongi knew he was lying to himself if he said that he didn’t love you anymore. but he was also on thin ice with you, yoongi was going to try his best to stay on the surface.

this would be the last song he would make for a while, he had more important things on his checklist.

the smell of-

was that cream cheese?

your groggy, half-asleep mind somehow registers the waft of bagels and cream cheese in the air, which is enough to pull yourself out of bed.

with tangled hair and puffy eyes, you pad into the kitchen with a narrowed gaze.

of course, it’s yoongi.

you glare at his back which moves constantly to put together a cream cheese and chicken bagel which was, as mentioned, your favorite. usually, you would appreciate this view, usually, you would go give him a back-hug as he cooked for you but you knew it wasn’t for you.

“do you have to torture me like this?” you whine out, and yoongi snickers, his apron tightening around his waist as he turns around to look at you, “good morning to you too, you look bright as ever this morning” he gives you his best smile and you return a sarcastic one.

despite his aloof attitude, yoongi was trembling on the inside because he knows there is no single right way to win you back, he would have to earn it, and he would have to work on it every single day.

but if it was going to take forever to win you back, yoongi would try forever.

you buried your pounding head in your hands as you took a seat at the table, wondering how you were going to cook for yourself again without accidentally setting something or yourself on fire.

then, a glass of water with advil comes into view and you look up to see yoongi immediately backing away to work on breakfast again.

“are you trying to drug me?”

“is it working?”

you can’t help the small smile forming at his amused tone, but you don’t say anything which makes yoongi sigh in failing irritation. “come on, it’s just advil. you don’t need me to drug you, you do that with your cooking every day.”

“geez, thanks for reminding me i’m not freaking gordon ramsay in the kitchen” you continue his banter, somehow, you’re in a good mood even after how terribly last night ended. you go mute when he places a plate filled with your favorite bagel, an omelet, bacon, and even mini jam sandwiches in it.

you just stare at the plate before dragging your gaze to yoongi who turns away once again, this time with a dust of pink on his full cheeks that you catch.

“your side of the table is that way” you point to the opposite side, albeit regretfully because it’s been a while since you have had a proper, not-burnt breakfast, but he must have mistakenly placed this beautiful plate of food in front of you.

it has to be a mistake.

there’s no other reason for yoongi to feed you.

but oh, yoongi’s just so full of surprises.

“that one’s for you.” he shrugs casually as if it was normal to make you breakfast, after he’s only eaten it in front of you for a few weeks.

“what?”

“do you have hearing problems?”

“do you have mental problems?”

“yeah, but a dining table is hardly an appropriate place to discuss those, don’t you think?” maybe it was his flat tone as he said, indicative of his sense of humor, maybe you were just in a more fantastic mood than you had anticipated.

but you burst out laughing. you couldn’t help it; your laughter took over your entire system.

you can’t remember the last time you laughed like that.

yoongi had always managed to make you laugh or smile; this magical ability made you fall for him hard and fast, and after a rough day, he was the reason you at least slept peacefully, when you were together.

when you were together.

right, that wasn’t you two anymore.

that realization slows your laughter to a hesitant chuckle, yoongi wishes he didn’t notice that shift.

"don’t try to cook ever again if you want this roof over our head.” he jokes again as he sits down on his side of the table, suddenly the table seems too long to him and he hopes you’ll laugh again.

"are you saying you'll kick me out?" you dramatically gasp at him with an undeniable smile on your face.

it’s all right, yoongi will take a smile too.

"I’m saying you'll burn it down.” he continues with a playful whine that has you giggling again, swinging your legs under the table, a true indicator of your happiness in that minute which yoongi doesn’t miss.

“don’t you have work today?” you ask, finally digging into your food as yoongi does to his.

god, that’s good.

you swear his hands are magic.

“i took the day off” yoongi shrugs again, the second time he’s shrugging over things that aren’t half as casual as he makes them seem.

as long as you know, yoongi only ever took one day off, which was on your first anniversary.

he was always late to the other anniversaries.

you try not to think of that now, especially when both of you were in a civil mood.

“why, are you sick or something?” though concern fills you, you don’t let it show as you stuff your mouth.

“nope, just like that.” you hum in reply with poorly contained surprise.

“i don’t have work today either.” you don’t know why you tell him but you do.

“i know.”

“okay.”

you feel embarrassed at the disappointment that filled you when he didn’t say anything about it, what did you expect he was going to do, ask you for a date? if he wanted to, he would have done it when you were together.

“do you want to watch a movie?”

you almost drop your fork.

yoongi is surely full of surprises because you don’t even process his request for a second.

“what?”

“do you really have hearing problems?”

“no, i just didn’t quite catch what you said. are you asking me to watch a movie with you?” you repeat his words in disbelief, the plate of food that you loved so much, completely forgotten on the table.

“yes, that is what i said.” he confirms and you tilt your head in suspicion that yoongi notices too quickly which causes him to rush out, “as roommates.” it pains him to say it but he can’t come up with anything else to convince you.

“as roommates?” your confusion only grows.

“as roommates.”

“but why?” you can’t help but ask.

“just think of it as me trying not to be an insufferable roommate” he offers his explanation and in theory, in practicality, it makes perfect sense.

but both of you know it’s not that simple.

nevertheless, you don’t pry anymore.

yoongi’s shoulders fall in defeat when you don’t agree or deny, he just watches you continue to eat his food with furrowed eyebrows.

he took it too far, he should’ve stopped with breakfast today and tried to convince you to a movie another day, when you’ve warmed up more to him. you are probably still stuck in whatever happened last night and want your space.

“there’s this new horror one i saw on instagram the other day, i must have the link somewhere, i’ll put it on in a bit.” you look away with heated cheeks as you struggle to swallow your food.

oh.

you just agreed to the movie.

yoongi believes he could fly.

“man, this is not as scary as everyone said it was” you complain through a mouthful of popcorn, and yoongi nods in agreement, stuffing his face with a handful of popcorn too.

“by the way” yoongi sits up after hours of slouching on the couch and you signal for him to continue. “how did your date go yesterday?” he mutters, as casually as he could, reaching for more popcorn to avoid the tension surrounding the question.

last night comes back in flashes, your cute date, running away from the cute date, coming home to yoongi and confessing you would never get over him, covering him with a blanket and crying yourself to sleep.

shit, did he hear you?

“it went well, i came home pretty late though.” the lie tumbles out of you in lack of a better response.

yoongi knows you’re lying but he’s happy to play along with you because last night did a number on him too.

“glad to know it went well. i wouldn’t know when you came, i fell asleep watching some documentary” he munches on his popcorn loudly, he misses the error in his lie.

he wasn’t watching a documentary.

he was watching ‘finding nemo’.

and you know that because you were the one who shut the tv off.

you know that he’s lying. but instead of confronting him about that and that possibly leading to a conversation about what you uttered into the night, thinking he was asleep, wasn’t a risk you were willing to take.

“right, i did see you asleep.”

and i poured my heart out, right next to you.

yoongi in unaware his lie is caught; you prefer that he stays unaware. because if anything you said last night is what prompted him to act the way he did today, you are glad it didn’t all go to waste.

“we should sleep” he slouches back on the couch, too close to you, he’s hyperaware of your arms pressing against his but now that he’s already fallen back, he can’t quite get up as easily anymore.

he doesn’t want to get up.

“we should.” you agree.

neither of you moves a single inch.

laughter explodes into the room at that, both of your heads falling to the side to look at each other with squinted eyes full of happiness.

but when the laughter dies down and you are left to catch your breath, you are suddenly too aware of yoongi’s face being so close to yours, you don’t move away.

yoongi knows you know that you two are far too close.

he doesn’t move away either.

you start to lean in, your body is on autopilot as your hands sneak up to sit on the top of his knee, yoongi shudders from your touch.

how long had he gone without it?

how had he survived for so long?

how did his heart continue to beat without yours in his hands?

he panics internally as his hands come up to grab onto the sides of your face, like he won’t let go, like letting you go once was enough pain for him.

and when your lips touch, every bit of control you had left on your body evaporates into the air around you, you are grabbing his hair, and he is pulling you closer, and not once do you stop to take a breath.

because you know that when this moment is over, both of you won’t speak a word about it.

you can’t remember the last time yoongi kissed you this way, like his hands would disappear if they weren’t holding you, like his entire life purpose was to take your breath away and never give it back, like every part of him had been aching to do this.

and then it does end, painfully, too slowly, you pull away before your chest burns away, he pulls away because he has to.

you were right.

you don’t speak a word about it.

there was no ‘good night’ after that, there was no ‘see you later’, there was nothing left in that moment except the hope stored away in yoongi’s eyes. you pretend you don’t notice it as you, once again, eat the food he makes you in the morning.

yoongi knows he has to say sorry though, he hadn’t planned on that happening, he was just another lucky idiot that night, he was aware enough to know it wasn’t right for two to do that even if you’ve been together for years.

things were different and yoongi always hated change but he had to overcome this change instead of walking away from it, if he wanted to even dream of having you back.

so, he is the one who starts the uncomfortable conversation that you’d been anxiously waiting for.

“about last night-“

“you don’t have to worry about it.” you answer, as quick as lighting, and you even surprise yourself with your speed.

“oh?” yoongi raises an eyebrow at you.

what the fuck was he supposed to understand from that?

“come on yoongi, it’s not like we haven’t done it before” your chuckle following your words, is uncomfortable, tight, and completely unnatural.

“right” yoongi drawls, still not quite getting what you were hinting at.

were you okay with it?

were you not?

would he just have to kiss you again to find out?

“it was just a mistake, it happens, it’s not a big deal, i’m still moving out, you are still very much in love with your career, we don’t have to discuss it anymore” you eat as you speak, trying to bury the longing and bitterness in your voice with cold cereal.

so, that is what you meant.

yoongi doesn’t reply as his head stays down, he gets up soon after, cleaning up after himself and you, he doesn’t speak a single word or spare you a glance and disappears into his studio.

you are all too familiar with this scene.

you only watch as he does all this, you wouldn’t admit to another living soul that your heart grew heavier than it had ever been and that your chest felt tight enough to snap.

yoongi angrily walks around his studio, you could think it was a mistake but yoongi would break his computer before calling it a mistake.

but he realized he still had a long way to go.

yoongi had to be patient, he had no other choice.

but he doesn’t realize every second he goes by without telling you what was weighing on his heart, was another second your already dying hope vanished.

he can’t help but think back on the day he overheard you talking to your friend about your relationship, he subconsciously never really let go of that day, that day, he concluded that it was out of yoongi’s hands to do anything.

“i can’t believe you called, it’s been way too long” he heard your sigh of happiness outside the door, and yoongi paused, he doesn’t exactly know why he stayed to listen but he does.

your relationship, by then, had already been on the rocks, but neither of you acknowledged it.

“i wasn’t going to call, but rumi was telling me you were on a date with a certain someone” your friend sang from the other side of the speaker, clearly trying to tease you but you don’t say anything to that.

yoongi knows why you went silent, making him dig his heels deeper and listen closely to see what you would say.

“yeah, about that” you let out a hesitant chuckle, your voice struggling to keep your cheery tone. “hey, you good? what happened?” your friend’s concern was palpable and yoongi almost scoffed at her, he cared about you too, it wasn’t just her.

but yoongi couldn’t deny the weeks you both had gone without so much as exchanging a proper conversation.

yoongi would never take the blame for it, though.

“we didn’t end up going” yoongi peeks through the door to see your face turned away from the camera and he hated that he noticed the pain etched in your furrowed eyebrows. your friend stayed silent at your simple, but heavy answer, she could tell this wasn’t the first time it happened.

“but today is your anniversary?”

“it is.” you agree with a gulp, still refusing to meet her gaze.

“how long has this been going on?” her voice comes softly, so softly that your chin starts to wobble.

“nothing’s been going on, yoongi and i are fine.” you wanted to believe your words but anyone with two eyes and ears could see nothing was fine with you two.

“is that what you are telling yourself?”

“what else am i supposed to do?” your glare turns sharp and angry, you were fed up with everyone coddling you, you felt claustrophobic enough when you were with yourself.

“you know, if you want to cry, you can. none of us would judge you, you know that very well.” she tries to comfort you and yoongi’s breath turns impatient.

why was she trying so hard to convince you something was wrong, when you were telling her that everything was fine?

why did yoongi feel like she was trying to start a fight?

why did yoongi, a small part of him, feel like a fight was inevitable?

“there’s nothing to cry about, my boyfriend is just busy for an anniversary that might come again, it isn’t as important as what he does.” as you say it, a dread falls over both you and yoongi that there might not be another anniversary.

his heart free falls to his feet.

he had been busy; he wasn’t lying about that but yoongi hadn’t checked on you all this while. he can’t remember how many dates he canceled.

but that wasn’t his fault, that was life, that was his life and you knew about his life before you entered it.

it couldn’t be yoongi’s fault, it had to be yours.

yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in bitterness at the defeat in your voice, at the absurdity of the situation he never thought you two would have to be in, at the world for keeping you apart.

he looks away just when your sobs break the silence in the room.

“i thought i couldn’t breathe without yoongi, but i am, i am living many days without him, with only glances of him, i am living and breathing.” yoongi’s head leaves the doorway before you finish your sentence. if you wanted to live without him, he would let you go, he didn’t need you to stay out of pity.

“but it all hurts, and i don’t want to do any of that without him” is what he fails to catch in his anger.

yoongi looks back at the day mournfully now, he should’ve taken you out right then and there, he shouldn’t have given up just because it seemed like you did, his head falls in his hands as he rakes his hands through his hair in agitated motions.

he wasn’t sure if he could win you back.

but he wasn’t going to give up, he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

your days continued, as usual, he made you breakfast and packed you lunch, did your laundry and set them aside, he made sure you ate after you got off work and you both watched a movie or listened to songs together, or anything at all, together at the end of the day.

you were feeling good.

too good.

things were going well enough to make you nervous because suddenly, everything you knew from your breakup to the two weeks of enmity that followed those two weeks, changed drastically.

it felt like everything went back to the way it was and as much as you should be enjoying it, you didn’t, without confirmation of where you both stood, you couldn’t.

and soon, there came a catalyst that changed everything once again.

it was a mistake.

yoongi would never intentionally do this.

he took your pile of clothes as he usually does, placing them in a bucket and preparing to do your laundry along with his.

yoongi’s heart thrums in satisfaction as he places them in the washing machine, he always felt good doing chores for you, he doesn’t know why and with how well things were going, he dances and sings his way to the laundry detergent and whistles happily as he pours it heavily over your clothes, making sure to add extra fabric softener.

he leaves to do some light work in his studio, not knowing the mistake he committed.

yoongi was gunning to ruin your life, you were so sure of it.

nothing else could explain your sopping wet blouses, supposed to be white, at your feet.

you gape in horror as you pick the pile apart frantically to search for any blouses that could be salvaged, after all, these were all you wore to work, and your head falls in defeat once you see all of them in multi-colors instead of their usual stark white.

your hands tighten by your side as you feel hot all over with pure rage, you quickly grab the ex-white blouses and storm into the living room where yoongi scrolls casually on his phone, his pout whistles out tunes which fade away as he catches sight of your heavy steps towards him.

you throw your blouses at his feet and your nose flares, yoongi jumps in his seat.

“what the fuck happened?” he gasps out, not understanding the anger in your eyes.

“yoongi, this isn’t funny.” you manage to say beyond gritted teeth and he scrunches his eyebrows.

“what isn’t funny?” he frowns in confusion.

“stop acting dumb, i will fucking force detergent down your throat” that raises concern in him, he looks down at the pile of clothes by his feet.

none of the whites were whites anymore.

fuck.

“okay, listen i swear this is an accident, i’ll get you new on-“

“i wear these to work! what is wrong with you?” you point down at the pathetic pile of clothes by his feet with hands shaking from anger.

“you know, i wouldn’t do this intentionally, i am aware you wear these to work, let’s go out now and get you new shirts, i’m sure some shops will be open” he gets up from his seat, searching for his keys.

“don’t act dumb yoongi, it doesn’t suit you at all.”

yoongi starts getting frustrated, why don’t you believe him?

“let’s go and get them before the shops close” he tries to remain calm.

“i’m not going anywhere with you.” you stay rooted in your place and yoongi’s patience starts to run thin. “i’m telling you, it was a mistake, i’m not crazy enough to do this intentionally, now let’s not fight and get you shirts you need for tomorrow before we can’t.”

“don’t act like you are some hero, you are the one who ruined them!” you don’t understand why you are so angry or why you can’t seem to move from where you stood.

“and i’m trying to fix it.” he grumbles out, slamming the keys on the counter beside him.

you stare at the keys with heavy breaths and he stares at you, his anger melting as quickly as it came to the surface.

“let’s go.” he takes the keys in his hands again.

maybe it was the confusion that finally manifested with an ugly head.

maybe you hated how comfortable you got around yoongi again.

maybe you are seeing nothing but all his mistakes until that minute.

maybe you aren’t being fair at all.

but you snap.

“you think you are the only one who does important work?” you didn’t mean to get personal or bring up the topic that broke you both up again, but you couldn’t help it. your arms cross against your chest as yoongi spins on his heels to turn back to you.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you clearly think you are the only one in the entire world who does meaningful work, the rest of us are just slaving away for money and security, but of course, the great min yoongi works for the greater good, for the comfort of many, for millions who adore him, that is why any work that is not his, is not valuable” your voice drips with venom and mocking as you take slow steps towards him, yoongi’s face falls into his usual glare as he watches you speak.

you poke your finger against his chest, your voice quivering with poorly controlled fury, “who the fuck do you think you are? do you think that writing a few songs and getting some records will erase how horrible you make people you are supposed to love, feel? do you think that you can get away with everything because your name is not just a name, but also a brand? i can at least say that my name belongs and serves only me, can you? you are nothing but walking merchandise that anyone can buy.” again, you never meant to say all of that, you know better than to call anyone an object but that was the thing about your anger, your anger had the power of making you say the most vicious words in the world and you had never learned to control it.

“you don’t mean that” yoongi forces himself to say because those words from anyone else, wouldn’t mean jack shit to him but coming from you, they speared his heart over and over again. he waits, he waits with his sinking heart that you would agree with him, he doesn’t believe in god but at that moment, he wished for every power to let you agree with him.

the air grew heavier around you both as you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“i have never meant anything more. you fucked with my work life, you know how much of an asshole my manager is about dress codes but you did the one thing that could ruin weeks of work for me, and you did it all by yourself, so congratulations min yoongi, you have once again proved to be the worst thing to ever happen to me” you clapped slowly as you stepped away from him, your face grim and dark as you turn away.

yoongi’s heart clenches as your words circle his body in a dangerous tornado.

walking merchandise that anyone can buy.

walking merchandise that anyone can b-

your glare slips as the words you uttered sink into your skin, and by the time you turn back around, yoongi’s eyes already gathered enough tears that they run down his face.

“is that what you’ve thought of me till now?” his voice breaks and so does your heart. “yoongi, no-“ you step towards him but he backs away, his defenses climb back right infront of your eyes as his body suddenly looks too far away.

“that’s not fair, you don’t get to tell me now, that you thought i was merchandise, that i keep hurting everyone i love, when all i’ve done these past weeks is try and win you back.” your world stops spinning as yoongi admits to his trials.

you feel like the biggest asshole in the world.

“yoongi, you were right, i didn’t mean-“ you walk over to him with hesitant steps, he doesn’t back away this time but he doesn’t let you finish either.

“i know i’ll never be worthy of you, i know i can only try but i’m trying, god knows i’m fucking trying because even if you can live and breathe without me, i can’t do any of that without you.” your own eyes start to tear up as you reach to wipe the wetness of his cheeks and yoongi takes a shaky breathe in as his face involuntarily cuddles into your palm.

“and you were wrong that night, i will never move on from you, i am simply not capable of moving on from you, because i have never loved anyone more than i’ve loved you, i’ve never wanted someone as much as i have wanted you, every bit of me belongs to you, none of me is mine anymore. and it took you being away for me to realize that.” yoongi’s confession stops time and space. he feels exposed like someone stripped him naked and threw him into traffic but he finally lets you know everything he’s dreamed of telling you.

you press your forehead against him with a wobbling chin and cup his face with shaky hands.

“did you ever think, that by loving me, you were hurting me too?” you needed him to know the extent of his pain, the depth of his scars. yoongi lets you tell him, he needed to know as well.

“every day, i waited.” the ball in your throat gets tighter as you speak and yoongi hates that he’s the reason why.

“every single date you canceled, every night i fell asleep without you, every meal i had without you, all those days i went without seeing you, i need you to know that it killed me slowly, that it made me a shell of the person i am.” yoongi felt shame rushing through him at your words, at the pain he caused you.

he would understand if you didn’t let him in again.

he wouldn’t try again if you didn’t want him to, he has too much respect for you.

“i love you too much to not give you a chance, heck i would probably give you a chance even if you don’t ask for it.” he looks up with blurry eyes.

“but i need to believe that it will be different this time, not just know that it will be.” you step away at that, staring at yoongi who was left standing with a burden that suddenly fell on his shoulders.

how was he supposed to make you believe that?

could you not trust his word alone?

but then again, his words haven’t exactly ended things well for you both.

“how do you want me to show you?” he needed to know, there was nothing he needed to know more.

your breathing stalls at his words.

“please tell me.” his voice breaks as he whispers that, yoongi’s eyes gathering tears again and your heart falls to your feet at the redness coating his eyes.

you wished none of today would have happened.

“yoongi.” you whisper back but you don’t even know what he could do to mend things, you are not sure he can but you can’t deny him a chance.

you don’t have an answer for him.

“i am going apartment hunting soon” you confess finally, and he feels his breath get knocked out of his chest. “oh really?” he asks, sniffing as he looks away.

“my friend knows this real estate agent person who set me up for a few tours, you have to understand why i had to do it.” he knows exactly why you had to do it and he hated knowing that it was all because of him.

but he wasn’t going to give up after ripping his heart out for you.

“i’ll come with you.” yoongi nods and you frown at him, “yoongi, you really don’t have to, i know you are bus-“ he cuts you off, “i am not busy, let me come with you, i want to at least make sure you move into a nice place.” that was a total lie but it wasn’t like yoongi had a lot of options left.

you ponder for a while, and yoongi waits patiently for your answer, he won’t push you if you deny but he will be as stubborn as he can be without frustrating you.

“fine, i’ll let you know by tomorrow.” you finally give in and without another word, go back into your room. you close your door with an exhausted sigh, your face aligning with your reflection across the room.

your eyes were redder than ever and all the energy had been sucked out of your face, making you look sick and you felt sick too, your entire body was aching and you wondered if yoongi felt this way too, if he was as tired, if he felt like the world was pulling his body down, if he maybe wanted to give up because of this feeling.

you stay several minutes this way; you hadn’t thought you would call yoongi merchandise. you, of all people, knew how stressful his job got but you no longer wanted to use that as an excuse for how he treated you.

“how do you want me to show you?”

those words sent a shiver down your spine at that moment, it was the desperation that drenched his voice, the way his hands were shaking beside his body, and his eyes that looked through every inch of you, trying to find ways to convince you.

a slow knock drew you out of your mind, your hand locking around the doorknob to pull it open, and there stood the reason for all your pain and yearning.

yoongi held a tray of hot soup with ginger tea, and a bunch of chocolates, his gaze settling everywhere but at you, as he stood with shifting feet.

“you didn’t eat anything.” you didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten all day but apparently, yoongi had and that tightened your chest around your heart a little more, suffocating you with the love you held for him a little more.

with trembling fingers, you hoped he wouldn’t notice, you take the tray from his hands and place it on a table, and yoongi turns to leave, he didn’t want to bother you too much, he just wanted to make sure you ate.

you pulled on his wrist, not exactly sure of what you will do next but somehow, you needed to touch him, feel that he was real and that you both were here, so lost but still together.

“t-thank you.” you stutter out, every other word you had woven all these months stayed trapped in your mouth. yoongi stared at the hand that held his wrist, he had almost forgotten how out of breath this used to make him feel. how he used to lose nights of sleep imagining you and him, in a house, waking up next to you, falling asleep with you, long before you had both ever committed, yoongi had imagined every day in his life with you in it.

he can’t believe how close he is to losing all of it.

“we should talk, yoongi.” you feel tired but you won’t be catching any sleep in the state the both of you were in, he would spend all night worrying about you, and you would spend all night worrying about him.

yoongi silently followed you into the guest room, it was still strange for him to see you in another part of the house, he eyes the makeup that was scattered on the vanity, the clothes lying around on the sofa, your socks at the edge of the bed and as silly as it sounded, he hated that none of this mess was in the room you two shared.

“i’m still going to see the apartments” you start off awkwardly, taking a seat on the bed and yoongi stood at the corner of the bed, hating that it felt wrong to sit next to you at the moment.

when had it become so bad?

“and i’m still coming with you to see them.” he concludes and gathers all his courage before plopping down next to you. if today didn’t go the way it did, you would laugh at the distance between you two and pull him closer and tell him to stop acting funny, but none of that felt right.

“i think you understand you fucked up” you say, finally looking up at his figure next to you and you shouldn’t have, your resolve already was spread thin, and looking at yoongi didn’t help. “i do.” he agrees and nods shamefully.

“what are you going to do to fix it?”

“anything you want me to.” his answer is quick and firm, he was prepared for anything you would ask for, but you were tired of asking.

“it’s not about what i want, yoongi. i need to believe that you want this as much as i do, and that you’re prepared to fight for it, asking me about what to do is you just handing over the responsibility to me instead of at least trying to figure it out by yourself.” he listens intently, and puts himself in your shoes.

“i took a break from work.” your eyes widen at him and you have to force your jaw shut because you could’ve imagined anything but not those words leaving yoongi’s lips of all people.

“you, what?”

“work is good, very good but it was keeping me from you and it was hard to make that decision but i can always work, i can’t lose you. i can lose millions of dollars, this house, all my clothes, everything but nothing mounts to losing you.”

you have to force yourself to look away when he says that, because you never could have imagined that you were worth all of that and more to him and you are well aware of his deep affection for his work which makes it all the more sentimental that he was taking a break for you.

“i want to be worthy of you again, i want to spend time with you, i want to take care of you, i want to be anywhere around you as long as you want me. i thought i was working for us, for us to be comfortable, but i got selfish in the middle, and i ignored the person who kept me going when it got too hard.” he pauses, his breath shaking as his eyes fall shut. he remembers the exact second his chest almost blew up at the sight of you leaving home, he never wants to experience that again.

“it’s all on me, i should’ve never let you feel like i didn’t love you, loving you is one of the only things i can do right.”

“besides music.” you add in hopes to lighten the mood and you are successful when a full grin grows on yoongi, one that has your cheeks warming up with joy.

“besides music.” he agrees, “but i’ve done it for enough time now, i just want to love you, in the way you deserve to be loved. which is why i’m asking, no i’m begging for you to let me do this right, one last time.”

“what will change? if i say, yes?”

“all my time will be yours; all of my attention has always been yours and it will remain yours, i will make your food like i always have, we will go on dates whenever we want, and we will watch all the movies we’ve wanted to watch but couldn’t, we’ll do everything we used to do but better. it won’t go back to how it was but i don’t want us to stay as the shadow of who we used to be, because we’re meant for more than that.” he says sincerely, with his heartbeat echoing in every word and you couldn’t just pretend like you didn’t hear it.

“as much as i try to will this feeling away, i can never stop hoping for us.” in the next second that he utters those words, you throw yourself in his arms, and your final resolve breaks as his shaky hands snake down the length of your back like he can’t believe he gets to hold you like this again.

the first tear slips without knowledge, secretly and it disappears in his shoulder, his tear disappears in the crook of your neck. the tears that follow, fall shamelessly, without any intention of stopping and none of you say another word, not another ‘i need you to stay because i’ll lose the important piece of me if you go’, not another ‘i love you, like i’ve loved nothing else and losing you scares me like nothing else’, all of those remain unspoken but they hang in the air around you.

“i believe, with everything in me, that we’re meant for more than this.” yoongi braves to look at you, his eyes zeroing in on the curves of your cheeks, he hates that he was the reason for the tears that have fallen on them.

he can’t let it ever happen again.

“do you?”

“this one has beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows, i heard you have a passion for reading, so the sunlight will be perfect.” your agent says enthusiastically as he walks you through the sixth apartment you’ve seen today.

“she also has a passion for sleeping so that won’t work.” yoongi groans as he walks behind you, your face grows red as you slap him on the arm.

“if you’re going to complain about every house, just stay outside, i will look through them.” you grit your teeth at him but your heart softens when his mouth pulls into a whine, “our house is perfect, i literally don’t understand why you’re moving.”

all yoongi has done since he’s stepped out of home is complain about every single house you’ve been to.

“the closet won’t hold half your clothes.”

“a big kitchen is useless for you.”

“this literally looks like a druggie’s hideout.”

“it’s too white.”

no, you are not sure what he meant with the last one either but all you know is that he’s whisked you away from all of them before you could even consider them as options.

“we’ve talked about this, and we agreed that space could do us some good, and no, our house isn’t perfect, my bookshelf has no space left.” you complain lowly so that the agent doesn’t hear you but lo and behold he does. yoongi, on the other hand, can’t remember when he agreed that space would do you good, hell that’s the last thing he wants.

“which is why this house would be perfect for you, the bedroom offers a stunning full wall bookshelf that you can stock up with all of your reads without compromising for space!” he cheerfully chatters and yoongi’s jaw tightens, he hates this agent with all his body and soul even if he’s known him for an hour.

“i can build a bookshelf from scratch” he mumbles grumpily but he can’t help the way his heart flutters when he sees you catch sight of the bookshelf. it’s everything you ever want in a bedroom, a proper vanity, a low-set bed, perfect lighting, and of course, the majestic bookshelf.

your smile grows as you trace your fingers over the plush vanity and the bookshelf and yoongi’s face breaks into a half-smile.

it’s bittersweet, to have you, but in a different house, not the home you’ve built for years but yoongi would never deny anything that grew that smile on your face.

“i really like this one.” you beam at the agent who sighs out in relief but maintains a professional smile, “if you’re all set for it, i’ll get the paperwork ready.” he offers immediately and your eyes pass on yoongi’s figure in the doorway. he smiles at you encouragingly, as if he’s okay with it, but you know he’s not.

just then, yoongi’s phone rings and he excuses himself to step out to take the call, right before he leaves, he hears you say, “i’ll take this one” in a lovely, sing-song tone that he knows you only use when you’re truly happy. his shoulders slump but he knew that this would happen today, he had told his heart all night to not give up on him.

he answers the phone with an irritated tone, he didn’t know how to feel, he could barely listen to the person speaking to him on the phone, he wanted to be happy just for the fact that you agreed to give him a second chance, and that you were excited to spend time with him, but he couldn’t help the sinking in his chest at the thought of waking up and not seeing you.

“no, i am not coming in for work next week, i already told you this, don’t call me again.” yoongi says in a calm but stern manner, the person tries talking again but you were out of the house, and yoongi could care less about anything else.

“did you sign the papers? did you need a pen? i think i have one in my car, let me go grab it.” he rambles and hastens to make his way to the car but you bite back a smile and grip onto his hand.

“yoongi.” you step into his open arms and hug his torso, yoongi is confused but his arms wrap around you, and unconsciously you both are swaying in each other’s embrace.

the house was great but being in yoongi’s arms for these two minutes felt more like home than any house in the world and every corner of the house reminded you of the lack of his presence.

the kitchen, where he won’t cook, where he won’t make fun of your dishes.

the couch, where his headphones don’t lay carelessly.

the bedroom, where his side is neatly arranged while yours stays a mess.

the balcony, where he won’t sip his coffee dramatically at sunset to amuse you.

and the bookshelf, that he won’t help you fill with all the books he gets home, just because they reminded him of you.

you had wanted a home and space but you could find both of those in yoongi.

“you can build a bookshelf, right?” yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch at your question, he almost feels offended that you have to ask that.

“um duh, you know i can.” he whines and you giggle into his chest.

“then, i’m not moving.” yoongi’s arms almost fall away at your words, a strange mix of relief, gratefulness and content fill his every crevice as he tries not to hug you tighter, a punishment for even thinking of keeping you away from him.

and he will take this mix of emotions and remember it forever, the day you gave up on space to stay with him, he will remember the favor you did for his heart for as long as he breathes.

“i will build a million bookshelves if that’s what you want, all you have to do is stay, forever.” forever is a big word, a word yoongi never believed in, always saying that everything in life was on borrowed time but with you, it feels like too short of time.

you knew how he felt about forever so for him to say it to you, rushes into your chest and spreads with a warmth that makes you feel all things giddy and good.

he says nothing, no words, just keeps you in his arms after time had kept you away for too long.

“let’s go home, yoongi.”

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clairewritesjjkxreader · 6 months

Text

Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) scenario

Request/Inquiry from @aikothingdream:

“It would be funny to see Yuuji also not like his teacher hitting on Onee-chan”

Life as a cursed spirit’s “bride” was hilariously boring.

Gojo described your cursed energy as below average, you had zero martial arts training or talent, and Sukuna threatened Gojo and Yuuji not to put you in danger.

Yuuji was often busy training, studying, or hanging out with his new classmates. You were happy that he had people to look after him in your place, but without a job or a class to attend, you were a parasite.

To alleviate your guilt, you did everyone’s laundry (minus their unmentionables, even Yuuji who furiously insisted he was old enough to wash his own underwear–kids, they grow up so fast *sigh*), mopped the hallways, wiped the windows, and other chores.

You just finished rearranging the clothes in your cabinet for the second time today.

You sprawled yourself on the floor like a starfish.

Free food, no rent. Everything was paid for here. This should’ve been the ideal life, but you were so booooored.

Spurned by the desire to fill the void, you went to the kitchen. No one was around. Of course.

You searched the cupboard, but only found a half-eaten package of cookies. The fridge had a can of whipped cream on the verge of emptiness and some strawberries..

Shutting the fridge close with your hip, you chomped on a cookie and a medium-sized strawberry then sprayed a swirl of cream in your mouth.

“Guess who’s back with treats! I–ah.” Gojo Satoru stopped at the kitchen doorway, a plastic bag full of sweets hanging from his hand.

A silence fell over as you saw each other.

He stood there, quietly as you stared, frozen with a mouth stuffed with sugar.

You: (⊙ｏ⊙)

Gojo: ( ._. )

Gojo: …

Gojo: …pft.

You: …!

You forced yourself to chew faster, but expectedly, the thing that was supposed to be in charge of you and your brother burst into maniacal laughter.

“PWAHAHAHAHA!”

“Mm…mf!”

“Oh, man. I gotta take a picture.” He pulled out his phone.

You wanted to say something, but there was too much stuff in your mouth!

Gojo continued laughing between clicks and flashes until you started choking like a pelican who swallowed too big a fish.

In an instant, he was behind you, arms wound tightly around your abdomen. “Please don’t die. It would be too pathetic!”

“Aurgh..!!!??” Translation: You think I wanna go like this, you a&%****!?

With one, strong squeeze, Gojo forced the food out of you.

“That was close! Good thing I was here or who knows what would’ve happened.”

“...”

“Hm?”

“...”

“Not going to say anything? What’s wrong, nee-san?”

Feeling a vein near popping, you coughed out, “I believe I asked you not to call me that.”

“You’re so cold. Megumi and Kugisaki call you that. Even the second years!”

You had a couple of things to say, but considering that he technically saved your life, you opted to keep them to yourself. “Thank you for the help, now please let go. I’m going to clean this up.”

But as you said this, your knees buckled and his arms shifted to stop you from falling.

“Aw, don’t be like that.”

Whoosh

A giant knife flew towards Gojo, stopped only by his infinity.

You both turned to find Yuuji standing by the door, panic and shock on his face as he gripped hard on his right arm responsible for throwing the blade.

“I-I didn’t know how that happened, I swear!”

Sukuna spoke from his cheek. “You damn blue-eyed bastard. How dare you touch my wife so shamelessly?”

“Excuse me?! I just saved her from cho–”

“Yuuji!” Embarrassed, you pushed yourself out of Gojo’s embrace and walked towards your brother. “Welcome home. Do you have any requests for dinner?”

“I’ve been craving curry rice since this morning.”

“I think we just ran out. I’llgocheckthestorageroom!” Flustered, you rushed out of the kitchen, forgetting your own mess.

Yuuji quietly went to mop the food you choked out.

Gojo sighed. “Yuuji, what should I do, I don’t think your sister likes me.”

“Gojo-sensei.”

When Gojo met his student’s gaze, it held a surprising sharpness. “???”

“Thank you for taking care of us,” Yuuji’s normally cheery tone was flat as he spoke, “but please don’t bother my sister too much.”

“???????”

Later that evening, in Fushiguro’s room…

Gojo: Megumi, why is everybody so mean to me?

Gojo: (˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥)

Megumi: Please leave.

A/N: I tried to have more fun with this one so I was more liberal with my style. Anyway, I got a few more requests, the products are coming soon!

@shadowywizardarcade @hannya-exists @nineooooo @lilachaeyo @pumpkindudeishere @jessbeinme15 @fluffy-koalala @cringeycookies @frogzxch @isimpfordanielpark @marvelsgirl4ever @sanzusmom @sheccidoscar @marvelsgirl4ever @alastorhazbin @satosuguswife @lumaniii @leahlovesreading @blackstaw @nineooooo @boba--12

Other snippets of this au are found here.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna x y/n #sukuna #yandere #husband #sukuna x reader #reincarnation au #married #married au #request

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keikikait · 3 months

Text

ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ (ʙɪᴋᴇʀ!ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

for my other megumi fic, click here (warning - smut!)

pairing: biker!megumi x f!reader (au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 2k

summary: you love your new apartment, as small as it is. it's in the perfect place, right next to the train station, and is cheap as hell. the only downside? your neighbour, who revs his bike outside your window every morning.

warnings: NO SMUT!, no angst!, multi part series, kind of enemies to lovers, slowburn?, megumi is kinda rude lmaoooo, the girls are fighting!, he says sweetheart twice, reader is kinda down bad lmao

a note: sorry for the delay, i've been busy with work! also, 8 square metres is about 86 square feet :).

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

The rent was cheap. Suspiciously cheap.

You should’ve been wary, but you didn’t have many options. After a bitter fallout with your roommate, you needed to move out quickly. You should’ve paid more attention to the listing, you realise, as you stop in front of the building and it sinks in that your new digs weren’t 18 square metres.

It was eight square metres.

Thankfully, you didn’t have much furniture with you, needing to sell it all to afford the move. Your apartment was essentially one long, two-story hallway, just enough for your desk chair and TV.

You get settled in quickly, trying to liven up the place by replanting your herb garden outside on your small porch. The apartment doors faced an alley, and on the other side of the alley was another apartment building. You didn’t know how much sunlight your basil would get, but that’s a problem for future you.

A problem for the current you, however, was your neighbour's motorcycle. The bike is an exact replica of the legendary Honda Super Cub that was used in the original anime Akira, and as pretty as it is, that shit is loud. His apartment is right on the edge by the sidewalk, meaning the only place he can park it is right in front of your window.

You’ve tried everything. Earplugs. Noise-cancelling headphones. Ear plugs under your noise-cancelling headphones. Sleeping with a white noise machine. Nothing works. You only moved in a month ago but you’re already sick of this mysterious man and his bike. You don’t run into each other often, catching glimpses of him as he drives off in the morning and comes home at night. You didn’t want to be that neighbour, the one that complains about every single little thing, but it was driving you mad. He revs his bike so loudly and for so long, that you’re starting to think he’s doing it on purpose.

You wake up that fateful morning and decide you’ve had enough. You wait for him to return home, hyping yourself up in the mirror before heading outside to confront him. You idle nervously in front of his front door for a few seconds before knocking.

He answers, looking exhausted, his hair a mess from his helmet. “Yeah?” You have to admit, he’s pretty cute. Tall and lean, with bicep muscles that strain against the fabric of his black t-shirt. And you swear you can see some eyeliner smudged on his water line.

You smile, trying to come across as calm and casual, slightly flustered by how attractive he is. “Hey. I’m your new next-door neighbour,” You gesture with your thumb. “I don’t wanna be that person, but would it be possible for you to not rev your engine so loud in the morning? It’s just…it’s right by my window, and it’s really loud.”

He lets out a sigh of frustration, not exactly in the mood for what you're throwing at him. It was already 9 pm on the third day in a row that he had worked the late shift, and this was not something he needed right now. He looks at you, his expression a mixture of irritation and confusion. “Look, I'm not doing it on purpose. I park where I park, nothing is going to change that. You just moved in, this is how it's been and how it's always going to be.”

You blink, a little taken aback by how rude he was being. “I understand that, but surely I'm not the only person in the building who gets inconvenienced by your bike.”

He crosses his arms, his eyes narrowing. The last thing he wants to do after a long shift is argue with someone about something as insignificant as noise. “Look, if you don't like it, then move out. I don't see anybody else complaining. You're the only one.”

You clench your jaw. You had some experience with bikes, your ex-boyfriend being a mechanic. You knew it was possible to make the revving quieter, it just seems like he didn’t care. “Can’t you just buy a muffler silencer?”

He lets out a short, sharp laugh, one that doesn't hold a single trace of humor. “A muffler silencer? For a Super Cub? Are you serious? That would be like asking a Ferrari to be quiet.”

“You can’t expect everyone to just be okay with how loud your bike is, man.” You say. “I’m sure it inconveniences everyone in the building, but no one wants to be the person that confronts you.”

He seems to be holding back from saying what he wants to say, taking a shallow breath. “Look. It's my bike. I can do whatever I want with it. No one else is bothered, so why should you be any different? Why do you care so much?”

“You’re not the only person who works early mornings.” You say. “You aren’t the only person in the world, you know.”

That strikes a nerve, clearly, but he still doesn't seem interested in hearing what you're saying. He just rolls his eyes, looking away at his bike for a moment before looking back at you. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but in case you haven't realised, you're not that important.”

“Neither are you.” You say impulsively. It was mean, and you didn’t like being mean, but he wasn’t giving you any other option.

He glares at you, his expression darkening. It's only for a moment, but you can see there is actual vitriol in his eyes. “Look, I'm going to make this simple for you. If you don't like the noise, then move out. That bike is not going anywhere. It has more meaning to me than you'll ever understand.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Akira meant so much to you as a kid,” You say sarcastically. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t keep doing this, man. Buy a muffler silencer.”

He laughs, but there's a slight tinge of bitterness to it. “Oh, so it's just a cartoon to you? It’s not an influential masterpiece that changed motorcycle and animation culture forever? Okay, great. Good to know.” He is starting to get worked up, but then he shakes his head, trying to regain his composure. “Look, like I said, I am not doing anything to this bike. Not the mufflers, nothing.”

“Then park it somewhere else.” You snap. “Keep it away from my window. I don’t want to hear that shit.”

There's a flash of annoyance on his face. “There's no place to park it away from your window unless I block the sidewalk, which I guarantee you would cause more inconvenience. You're just going to have to deal with it.”

“Are you always this rude and stuck up?” The question stumbles out of your mouth before your mind can process it.

His temper flares up. He takes a step towards you, putting his hands on his hips as he glares at you. “Are you always this entitled and self-absorbed?”

You take a step back. You hate to admit it, but the way he towers over you is arousing. His cologne fills your nostrils and you find yourself getting lightheaded. It was slightly spicy, with a hint of vanilla and coffee.

You ground yourself, swallowing hard. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you. I just want us to come to a reasonable compromise.”

He glares at you, his eyes boring into you as you step back. You can feel the heat on your skin as if every drop of sweat in his body has been activated by the situation. His cologne is overwhelming you, filling your whole body. “There is no compromise to make here. You don't like the noise, tough. You're just going to have to get used to it or move out. That's it.”

Your eye twitches. “You’re such an asshole.” At this point, you didn’t feel bad being mean to him. He kind of deserved it.

He laughs, seeming almost amused by your temper. “You're one to talk. You come barging up to my apartment, demanding I make changes to my bike, and then you get mad at me when I tell you not to waste your time. Look in the mirror, sweetheart, and then come back with the right to tell me I'm an asshole.”

Fuck. You shouldn’t like the way he says sweetheart, but it causes your throat to dry up. “I tried to be nice to you,” You say. “You’re the one that got defensive and rude.”

“Nice? Maybe in your little dreamland that's what you think you were doing. Maybe you even believe that you were just being friendly and reasonable, I don't know. But in reality, all you were doing was pissing me off and acting like some sort of entitled princess.” He takes a step closer to you, his finger pointed in your face. “But one thing is certain. I’m not changing anything about my bike just to make you happy.”

He’s so close to you that it makes your head spin. You step back again, leaning against the railing surrounding his small porch. “Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t blame me for being upset.”

He doesn't seem interested in letting you off the hook yet, not when he looks so close to snapping. “It doesn't matter if you're upset or not. You don't get what you want by coming here and giving me an attitude like a fucking brat.”

You swallow hard. Fuck. You shouldn’t be attracted to this man, he was rude as hell and didn’t seem to care that he was inconveniencing not only you but everyone in the building. But you couldn’t help yourself. He was so pretty, and he smelled so good, and his voice was so nice. You were going to have to change your panties when you got back home.

You stand up straight, trying to stay headstrong. “You’re being incredibly rude about this.”

“And you're being incredibly entitled. There's only one of us that needs to change here, and it's not me.” He narrows his eyes, his gaze still burning into you.

You lick your lips. “Look, we’re not going to get anywhere by arguing.”

He gives another one of those short, sharp laughs. He smiles, and it makes your stomach flip. “You finally said something smart. I didn’t know it was so difficult for you. Now, are you ready to accept that you're not going to get what you want, or do you want to keep wasting my time?”

Your eyes narrow. What the fuck? “Excuse me? Did you just call me dumb?”

A smirk spreads across his lips. “You heard me. Or did you need me to repeat it for you?”

You let out a sharp laugh, moving off of his porch. “You know what? Fuck you.”

He raises his eyebrow, a faint smile on his lips. “Oh, so you've switched from demanding to insults? Real mature, aren't you?”

You head over to your apartment, laughing again. “I should’ve known trying to reason with you would be impossible.”

He calls after you. “You're damn right it's impossible. You come here, make some demands, and then get mad when I tell you no. You're a spoiled brat who always gets her way, aren't you? Well, today's a bad day for you, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you.” You say, holding the door to your apartment open. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I’m not sure I want to.” He says, smirking slightly. “I’m not into brats like you. I think you need to be taken down a few pegs. You need someone to put you in your place.”

You scoff and flip him off before slamming the door behind you, and just like that, you have given up.

He leans against his door, crossing his arms and smiling as he watches you leave, his eyes on your ass. He’s just a tiny bit disappointed that you gave up so quickly. He's got to admit, it was pretty fun messing with you, watching how angry you get. He thought you looked cute like that, your cheeks all red and flustered.

Maybe next time…

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part two is here

dedicated to the lovely @whereflowerswenttodie

#keikiwrites #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #biker!megumi #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk megumi #enemies to lovers #slow burn #neighbors to lovers #✿: megumi!#f!reader

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holylulusworld · 3 months

Text

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader; Arthur Ketch x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, time jumps, strong reader, Dean being a douche (implied), unplanned pregnancy

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

One night of passion, a life-long responsibility. The words you wrote echo in your mind. It’s only a few days since you left Dean and the house, but you are already falling apart.

You spent the better part of the drive back to your shared home being scared of the future.

Having a baby so soon into your relationship wasn’t in your plans. Neither was it to raise the child alone. Even though you know, there is no way you’ll not love the life growing inside your body.

“Fuck, what do I do now?” You slam the door shut behind you and immediately sink to your knees. You choke out a sob and hide your face in the palms of your hands.

Six days and Dean didn’t even try to call you, nor did he come home.

He’s over you already, and Lisa will take your place. Maybe it never was your place. You were only a placeholder until she came back into the picture.

You grit your teeth and huff. “Fuck you, Dean Winchester.” Something breaks inside of you, and you don’t know if it’s a bad thing.

The part of you loving Dean unconditionally already starts to fade, and the bitch in the back of your mind taking over whenever you got hurt wins the upper hand.

You straighten your back and look at the woman in the mirror staring back at you. You smirk and put your hands on your hips. “I guess this means we are going to leave and start all over again. Don’t worry little bean,” you lovingly run your hand over your belly, “we are going to fucking rock this…”

One last step and your new life can begin. This is it, the point of no return. Your life with Dean is over, and you are not even sorry anymore.

You gave him time and space to realize what he was about to lose. In the end, you and his baby weren’t important enough to him to even try to talk things out.

Even if he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you any longer, he could’ve at least tried to be a father to his child.

Now you will be a father and mother to the bean growing in your belly. You’re strong and won’t back down, or cry over spilled milk.

If you look back at this moment in a few years, you will clap your hands and cheer for yourself. You’re stronger than Dean or anyone else gave you credit for. Everyone believed you’re only the cheerful and soft girl who loves to bake cookies and dreams of marrying the man you love.

A week ago, you were this person.

Today you are someone else. An Amazon, who will take her life in her hands and move on from a man who never loved her…

The takeoff is both exciting and terrifying. You are flying to another country, to live on another continent. Your old life will be in the past, and you can only think about the future from now on.

Holding your old plushie in your hands, squeezing it tightly you take deep breaths. “In and out,” you tell yourself to calm your nerves. Flying always makes you nervous. This didn’t change.

“How do you like first class, Miss Y/L/N,” your new boss asks. He paid for a first-class ticket so you could talk about your new position and the house he rented for you.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you give him a quick smile. Arthur Ketch is a very polite and charming man, but you cannot appreciate him at the moment.

“I have to thank you for accepting our job offer,” he says and dips his head to watch you nervously run your hand over your belly. “How far are you?”

“Oh—” heat creeps into your cheeks. You should’ve told him that you were pregnant before accepting his company’s offer. “I…I should’ve told you.”

“Most of our employees are mothers and fathers, Y/N. We are a family-friendly company with family-friendly work conditions. And the boss likes you, and your reputation.” He smirks now and leans closer to look at your belly.

“Do you think he’ll like that I didn’t tell them about my pregnancy? I didn’t do it on purpose. I got to know about my pregnancy only a few days ago, and I didn’t intend to accept the job offer at that time.”

“You know that I’m the boss, right?” Ketch grins.

“You are the boss now?” Your eyes round. “Since when?”

He shrugs. “I was the one behind the job offer. Robert Singer talked highly about you when we last met. From that moment on, I wanted you to work for us. If I told you back then that I was the CEO of the BMOL you would’ve never accepted our offer.”

“So, you tricked me,” you chuckle. “Lately all men seem to lie to me.” You sigh deeply. “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t want to…” You sniff. “Sorry.”

“You accepted my job offer because of a bad break-up I assume,” he pats your hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. London is the perfect place to start over. I will show you the town, and help you settle in. If you need help, I’ll be there. We care for our employees.”

“Is that a British thing?” You quirk a brow.

“It’s an Arthur Ketch thing,” he replies. “If you ask me, he’s a fool for letting you go. Sorry. Now I was the one saying inappropriate things, Y/N. You can punch me if you want to.”

“No, you’re right,” you hastily reply. “I gave him a choice, but he just gave up on us after meeting his ex-girlfriend again. The job offer was tempting, but I couldn’t imagine leaving the man I love. He made things so much easier for me. I got a new job and a new life. Maybe I should thank him for being the douche he is.”

“You deserve better,” Ketch softly says. “I know that we barely know each other, but believe me, he’s not worth a single tear. A gentleman should never make a woman cry or hurt her. Especially the one carrying his child.”

You give Ketch a sad smile. You’re embarrassed how easily he saw right through you. It wasn’t your intention to talk about your pregnancy and broken heart with your new boss.

“Y/N don’t worry. Everything we talked about today won’t leave this airplane,” he pats your hand. “If you need a friend, I’ll be there…”

Part 2

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #angst #dean winchester x you #Designed by pain (1)#au!dean winchester #tw: pregnancy

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mjolnirswriststrap · 4 months

Text

Trying To Derail My One Track Mind

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Part 1/2 Life was simple, till you met your boss.

Word Count: 3,300

No warnings till part 2

You wake up to see sun rays peeking through the curtains. Rolling over to face your fiancé you smile at his sleeping form, he looks so peaceful. Too bad you have to go to work and couldn’t just stay like this with him.

You would lie in bed all day with him, if that’s what he wanted. You reach out and pet his beard, pecking his lips before you get up to get ready for work.

You threw on your recycled outfit. Discerning no difference between the black skirt and white button up you wore yesterday. You pull on the dreaded pantyhose that were required for your uniform. Black or tan, you couldn’t express yourself at all.

You look in the mirror, tightly pulling your hair into a high ponytail, leaving out a strand to wrap around the elastic. Makeup was allowed, and recommended during your orientation. Guests prefer being hosted by someone who looks put together.

You work in the kitchen, managing the cooks and wait staff. Sometimes it felt like a real restaurant, and you dreamed of having your own one day. But with the pay you get from the manor, you won’t be following that dream anytime soon.

You give your fiancé one last kiss before you leave. Breakfast is served at 8am, so that means you should be in the kitchen by 6. Most of the people renting it out stroll in well after 9.

You always have to remake half of what you’ve already prepared, with a smile. The owner didn’t care about costs, or you. You never met him, just talked over the phone weekly.

You remember bringing up the food waste after a month of working. He laughed and said “It doesn’t matter what time I serve breakfast, they will find a way to be late. They’re paying, they know they have the luxury to be late.”.

Maybe he was one of them. He sure sounded like it. Like he agreed that money lets you by with things. The people that eat at your table get by with far more than you could imagine at the manor. You’ve been told more than once not to mention a thing that happens inside these walls.

Screams and gunshots have been heard. Guests walking around naked in masquerade masks. One guest brought his own meat, insisted on preparing it himself for everyone. You never saw anything like it, it wasn’t pork, beef, or venison, it reminded you of that page in your biology textbook with the skinless human body.

You don’t like to think about what happened before. The only way you can go back is to forget what happened the day before. You never felt fear, you couldn’t describe it. Like you were apprehensive of every new face you met, but they never snapped their fingers at you. You were never in the room when you heard fights happening, your staff was always well on their way home before dessert finished.

You stayed till the last dish was clean. They’re notified when all the staff goes home, because then there’s no one to wait on them. The bells in the kitchen fall on no ears at all. Leading no one to see which room is ringing.

You saw when they began to turn rowdy. Their drinks from dinner finally hitting them. Drunken debates often broke out, causing the last remaining person on staff to clean up broken glass and wine stains. They were always apologetic and moved the argument to a different room, leaving you alone to clean up their mess.

You sped down the country road, you were running late, today is New Year’s Eve, meaning you’d be staying the night here. You tried to go home last year, but you only spent an hour in bed with your fiancé before you had to return for breakfast.

The owner didn’t care that you had a personal life. Telling you no when you asked to take your paid leave, you told him your fiancé planned the trip as a surprise. Causing him to scoff and deny you again. You knew you should’ve quit then, but you didn’t know what would happen to you if you did. You knew too much, and the mysterious owner was a dick, so you didn’t want to test it.

Pulling down the gravel driveway you park behind the house. Entering through the backdoor that only you have a key to. You prepared for the day, making it easier for your cooks when the guest start ordering things.

The day goes by normally, like there wasn’t a party planned for the night. The owner got it catered by this famous new chef, who wouldn’t be arriving till dinner. You had to wait to be ordered around your own kitchen. The guys French accent was so thick you couldn’t understand a word he said.

Somehow you pulled it together, and your servers were carting out a stuffed bird you’d never heard of. These guests might be the fanciest of any that darkened the doorstep of the manor. They held their heads high, and drank wine that was imported in a big wooden crate you broke a nail opening.

They laughed about politics, and argued pharmaceuticals. You’re about to return to the kitchen when the front of the house man, Bruce, approaches you. “Mr. Barnes will be here at 9. He asked that you be in the library when he gets here.”. He gives you a tight lipped smile, leaving you before you have a chance to respond.

You’ve worked here for two years and the night he decides to meet you is your busiest night. You groan as you walk into the packed kitchen. Dishes being tossed into the sink and metal skillets scrapping the stove causes you sensory overload. You’re already irritated and it’s only 7.

When 9 hits, you decide nows the time you should make your way to the library. You didn’t have time to wait around for him, that kitchen would burn down without you, especially tonight.

When you get there, the doors already cracked open, and there’s a glow of lamplight emitting from it. There’s a man standing with his back to you. “Mr. Barnes?” You ask, not sure since the man seemed younger than you expected.

“You’re late.” He says, you roll your eyes, as if this was planned. “I was busy.” You curtly respond. Taking this as a chance to get off your feet, you sit in the velvet chair across the desk. He turns around once you’ve made yourself comfortable, crossing one leg over the other.

He’s handsome, and like you said, way younger than you expected. He has dark blue eyes, the kind that make a girl act a fool. They had no effect on you though, since all you were focused on is your fiancé. You didn’t really look at other men that way, you could admit when they were attractive, but nothing more. You’re better than that.

He sits down opposite of you, unbuttoning his jacket. “So I’ve been going over your monthly reports. You’re meticulous, you know that?” He gives you a genuine smile. It broke down your wall, filling you with pride at the compliment. “Thank you, I try.” You look down at your hands, picking at your broken nail.

“I know you must be busy with the party and Francois in your kitchen,” he says, causing you to raise your eyebrows. He called it your kitchen, you’re happy the two of you are in agreement. ”, so I don’t want to keep you long. I just thought I should finally meet the person keeping this house afloat.”. You take his compliments like knives. You don’t know if he means them, but you find yourself hoping he does. Causing a pang of guilt to hit you.

Why should you care if another man complimented you. You’re engaged to marry the best guy you could ever ask for. You force the blush down, not letting him see any effect he has on you, you don’t want to give the wrong idea. “If that was all, I think I should be going, like we both said, I’m busy.” You stand up, brushing down your black skirt as you do.

“Of course.” He ignores your attitude, standing to escort you out of the room. You give him a weird look, you know where the door is. “Before you leave tonight I’d like to speak to you again about a pay raise, maybe even a promotion.”.

You stop at the door and turn around and he’s only a foot away from you. You can smell the expensive cologne rolling off him, it almost makes you dizzy. “I’m actually staying tonight.” He seems surprised. “Yeah, it’s just, after I finish closing up the kitchen it will be 2, and it’s almost an hour drive home. I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep before work tomorrow.”.

“Where exactly did you plan on staying? All of the rooms are spoken for?” He asks. “The couch in the break room. It’s employees only, so I was hoping no guests stumble upon me in the night.”. He nods, looking deep in thought. “We’ll talk more later.” He says, like it was a fact.

You return to the kitchen. Things had calmed down a lot, only one cook was left, sprinkling lemon on a platter of hors d’œuvres. You got caught up on washing dishes, and cleaned the messy floors. When you were done, you heard the guests counting down, you walked to the doorway, peering in at them. No one wanted to be alone at this moment, even if you had to spend it with people that didn’t look your way. You watched as a few couples kissed and older men raised their glasses high. Mr. Barnes raised his glass towards you. Keeping his eyes on you as he takes his first sip of the new year.

You flick the kitchen light off. Walking across the dark kitchen you hear the party goes laughing and dancing to thumping music. You know you’d be picking up your champagne flutes out of the carpet in the morning. You smile when you enter the break room, you asked Bonnie, the maid, if she found time today to put you a blanket in here, she didn’t forget. Completely forgetting that your boss wanted to speak to you, you close the door behind you. Grabbing your bag off its hook on the wall, you pull out shorts and a tank top to sleep in.

You quickly change and fall face down on the couch, you don’t even cover up, liking the way your bare legs cooled your body down after sweating in the kitchen all day. You’re out like the kitchen light. That is until you feel a hand on your ankle, shaking you awake.

“Huh?” You say, raising your body up on your knees, causing your ass to lift in the air. “I wanted to speak with you.”. You blink your eyes open, and realize who it is. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.” You say, pulling up the loose strap of your tank top.

You cross your arms in front of your chest, wanting to keep this professional. He sits down on the couch beside you, your heart starts beating a little faster than it should. You haven’t been this close to another man since you started dating your fiancé. It felt weird and taboo, you know you should scoot away, but you don’t.

“I appreciate the work you put in here, and I’d like to show my appreciation by hiring you on as a live in manager of the manor.” You look between his eyes, trying to see if he’s serious. “I- what?” You say, utterly shocked.

He turns, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. “Everyone would report to you, Bruce, security, the maids, a new kitchen manager. You’d be making a lot of the decisions in my place, I think I can trust you.” He says, you think over his offer for a second, you know the money would be out of this world, but “My fiancé, I can’t just move out, we’re getting married soon.” You know you have to turn him down.

“Do you want to see your room?” He stands up and starts walking out of the room, just like Bruce, not waiting on a reply. “I don’t think that’s necessary, sir.” He looks back at you, like he can convince you otherwise. “What’s a look gonna hurt?” He says.

He leads you to the end of the guest hall, the last door in sight. You hadn’t been upstairs since your tour of the mansion, so you weren’t really familiar on which room was which, but you’re pretty sure this is the master suite.

He takes a key from his pocket and unlocks the door, opening it to reveal none other than the master suite. “Mr. Barnes, this is the master suite, what are we doing here?” You say, taking in the giant poster bed and red velvet.

“I know where we are, this would be your room, if you were to accept my proposal and if you do, just call me Bucky.” He says, walking around the room, studying it, as if he didn’t know what every inch of his bedroom looked like. You’re at a loss for words, you never imagined living like this, or having such a high paying job. “I can’t, I want to, but I can’t.” You say, feeling like you’re making a mistake.

He crosses the room, standing infront of you. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” He says reaching out to touch your arm. You lock eyes with him when you feel his hand on your skin. This was inappropriate in so many ways. Here you were half naked at 2 am in the master bedroom being touched by a man that wasn’t your fiancé. You can’t move, just like on the couch.

It’s like you can’t act on what your brains telling you, step away, tell him you’re not okay with this, feel uncomfortable. But you can’t, and you won’t, your body wants to. But there’s something inside of you keeping you close to him like a magnet.

Your heart beats rapidly, fear rushes through you. Not fear of him, but what you could do in a state like this. You’re not thinking clearly, you can’t even remove his hand from your arm. The hand that was numbing the skin on your bicep.

“Like I said, Mr. Barnes, I can’t accept. I hope this doesn’t interfere with my current employment.” Finally, you put your brain on autopilot, jutting out a professional declining of his invitation.

He drops his hand, seemingly letting you win this battle. “Of course not,” he ushers you out of the room, locking it behind him. “I shall let the offer stand, as long as you keep up the good work.” You nod your head, knowing you would never bring it up again.

He insists that you join him for one last drink in the lounge. All the guests were in their rooms, fast asleep. “I’ll just have water thanks.” You say, sitting infront of the roaring fire. He walks over the the bar cart, pouring himself bourbon, and you a glass of water from the crystal pitcher.

He sits down beside you again, you notice he’s closer now than what he was in the break room. You clear your throat, “So how did you come by this place?” You ask, wanting to keep your mind off of the heat radiating off of him.

“Inheritance.” He answers curtly, like exposing any further detail was an invasion of privacy. You find yourself nodding your head yet again tonight. You look at the flames tickling the brick walls of the fireplace, they remind you of your fiancés eyes, and in that moment you feel a bullet create a hole in your chest.

If you found out he were having a drink at 2am with his boss, while she was wearing her pajamas; you’d be furious. How hypocritical, that you find yourself sipping your room temperature water, bumping knees with a man you’ve never even met before.

“What do you want in life?” He asks out of the blue. It shocks you, you don’t know if you should tell him the truth or not. You figured, he knows what he’s paying you, it would never buy a restaurant anyways. “Uhm, first and foremost a family, which I’m currently working on. But in the future?” You say, knowing that’s what he meant.

He seems unbothered by you constantly bringing up your fiancé, like it wasn’t a factor in his motives. “I want my own kitchen. My own tables and menu. My guests sitting in my restaurant.” You say, averting your eyes from him. It’s not everyday you tell your boss you don’t plan on working for them forever.

“If you accepted my offer, you’d have that. You would have say over the menu, you would greet the guests and get to know them as if they were your own. You could redecorate, whatever you wanted.” Your mouth drops open slightly, you don’t know if you should believe him, but he hasn’t given you a reason not to.

As soon as fireworks start popping in your head, they die out. “Missed opportunity I guess.”.

“Well it’s getting late, I should be getting to bed.” You say, leaving your empty glass beside his. You make a beeline for the swinging kitchen door, “I don’t think in good conscience I can let you stay on the couch, employee or not, hosting people is my profession after all.” He stands, giving you a smile that reads in different ways. One could be a business man, just doing what he does best, faking a smile.

The longer you stood on opposite sides of the room, silence growing thick between you, the charming smile read differently, like you were prey, caught in a trap. You could retreat and lick your wounds or stay, and be healed and coddled.

“I insist.” He puts his hands in his pockets, walking to the bottom of the stairs. You could see him waiting from the kitchen door, leaning on the banister. It was nonnegotiable, you huff out a breath before grabbing your bag and shoes from the break room. Might as well let this be the first and last night you every get to stay in one of these rooms.

You follow him back up to the master bedroom, he unlocks the door and leads you in yet again. “Where are you staying? I thought we had a full house?” You say, finally realizing, this locked room was the only free bed. He turns around and shrugs his shoulders, “I just thought, we could share, this beds big enough for the two of us, with plenty of professional space for a pillow wall.”. He says, throwing back the covers, tossing the decorative pillows in the middle of the bed.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say, crossing your arms. “I don’t think the couch is a good idea, seeing as you’re scheduled till 7 tomorrow.” He argues. You’re frozen again, like you should fight against him but you can’t, you just let it happen.

Without another word you drop your bag and shoes on the chest at the foot of the bed. You tuck yourself in close to the edge, facing away from him. You set your alarm and close your eyes when he flicks the light off. “Goodnight.” He says, and you try to pretend you’re already asleep, but “night.” Slips from your lips before you could rethink it.

#avengers fanfiction #avengers #bucky barnes #mcu #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

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camillecrellin · 5 months

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Video Store — Angela Giarratana

Synopsis: You owned a video store. Spencer Agnew's favourite. He constantlly mentions it to his coworkers. What happens when Angela and Chanse pay the store a visit?

A/N: The synopsis is shit, I'm soo sorry. I hate this but please request some Angela/Smosh/Starkid stuff. I need to get my hyperfixation out somehow.

Word Count: 670

Warnings: mentions of death, swearing

Owning a business wasn’t easy. Especially for a dying media, but films and music were your passion. And so, when your mum passed, she left you her old corner store, which after a year long renovation you turned into what it was now. Your very own video and film rental shop.

Instead of Streaming was the name. A simulacrum of the past where you could rent or buy films, music, and video games.

And because of the niche need for physical media anymore, you knew almost everyone that came into the store. There was no way around it. You liked it. Despite not being a very social person, you knew that the people that shopped at your store shared the same interests.

Spencer Agnew was one of these people. A self-proclaimed film and video game nerd, he would come into your store about once a week to look over your new stock. And every now and then he’d bring people in from his work. Some of them even becoming regulars as was the case with Shayne and Damien.

Humming along to the sounds of Iggy Pop over the speakers, you went about your day refilling shelves to an almost empty store when the bell rang, signalling that someone was here.

Looking up you smiled at the two customers as the entered the store with wide smiles on their face. “Holy fucking shit this is soo cool.” The brown-haired girl gushed.

“Thank you, Spencer.” The man, who came in with the girl, sang making you quietly laugh to yourself.

“You’re Spencer’s friends?” You asked.

The pair looked to each other before the boy said, “You know him?”

“Yeah, I own this place.”

“Oh my God, you’re Y/n!” The girl squealed as she held onto the guy’s arm. Composing herself, she looked to you and continued. “Sorry he’s talked about you before; this place is like his man cave.”

“Oh yeah.” You chuckled. “I know.”

“If you need any help, just ask me.” You said, turning back to replenish the stock. “It’s 2 for 1 on the VHS’ but we rent VCR players assuming you don’t have one still.”

“Do you have any musicals?” The girl asked, making you whip back around to face the pair.

“Musical movies are just here, and the cast recordings are up the stairs with all the other music. We have them on vinyl, cassettes, and CDs.” You pointed to the locations.

“You really know your stuff.” The girl chuckled in an almost awe like way.

“Yeah, I love movies and I got a film degree so I guess I should do something with it.” You smiled at the girl, who nodded and walked over to the musical section of the DVDs.

It was around 10 minutes before the pair retreated, the guy having obviously embarrassed his friend as she seemed more on edge and nervous than before.

Carrying the MTV Legally Blonde proshot and the musical Nine, the girl came up to the counter.

Walking up to the checkout, you smiled. “Just those?”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“Good choice.” You said, scanning the DVDs your hand reaching for a paper bag. “Well actually I haven’t seen Nine, but it looks decent.”

“Neither have I but it says it’s Italian so…”

You raised your eyebrows, making her friend speak up, “She’s Italian.”

Laughing, you looked down in embarrassment, “I should’ve guessed.”

Bagging up the items, you set up the card machine, telling the girl the price before she paid. As you went to hand her the bagged DVDs, your hands brushed, a blush creeping onto your face.

Gaining a small confidence, the girl spoke. “I’m Angela by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Angela.” You smiled as you gazed into her eyes before quickly realising that she came with a friend. “Both of you…”

“Chanse.” He introduced himself.

You thanked Chanse with a nod before turning back to Angela, “You should come here more often. I can give you some recommendations.”

Angela agreed, biting her lip. “I will.”

#angela giarratana x reader #angela giarratana #smosh x reader #smosh

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californiaboytoybilly · 6 months

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Eye Candy pt 2

My apologies that this took so long. I’ve been having a hectic few weeks. Part three will come faster!

Steve had no idea how to feel the moment his eyes locked on the man who’d spoken.

On one hand, he felt distinctly caught. Something like embarrassment crawled up the back of his neck, hot and twitchy, motivating his feet to take off in a run. Robin would probably kill him if he did, however.

But he was also warm for an entirely different reason.

Because holy fuck, this just might be the single most attractive man he’d ever seen and every single one of his nerves was firing sporadically.

They were about the same height, but that’s where the similarities ended. The man had soft looking blond curls pulled back from the sides of his face with sleek silver clips. A single, perfect ringlet dangled over his forehead artfully.

His eyes- a startling blue even in the dim light- were rimmed with smoked out eyeliner, sparkling with amusement as Steve’s silence stretched on. Golden skin was showcased by a silky ruby toned shirt only half done up, tucked into a leather corset style belt with hand etched designs so intricate Steve would bet it cost more than two months of his rent.

“I… I uh-“ Steve stuttered over his attempt to answer, cheeks flooding red. The pretty man ran his tongue over a pointed canine as he waited.

“We must’ve gotten the wrong address.” Robin interrupted when she realized Steve’s brain was fully broken.

More of those pearly teeth flashed at them with the answer. “Ah, of course.” He didn’t believe them at all, the dimple in his cheek twitching with the effort not to laugh. Robin grabbed Steve by the wrist, yanking him towards her and the door none too subtly.

“Sorry, we’ll be- uh, on our way!” She gave the guy a tight smile, tugging at Steve again. Giving in, the brunette man started to follow her towards the door, only to be stopped by a larger hand clasping around his opposite wrist.

Steve’s eyes shot up and back to lock with an intense blue gaze. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Come in, I promise I don’t bite.”

*Unless you ask nicely*, Steve could’ve sworn he heard exhaled afterwards.

He should’ve said no, apologized and left probably. They didn’t know this guy and this had already been an embarrassing start. But Steve really was a sucker for pretty boys.

“Uh-uhm, yeah. Okay. Why not?” His voice was a little strained and he tried to ignore the stunned look Robin shot him. He was gonna get an earful for this later, that was clear.

“Perfect…” The man smiled more genuinely, letting go of his wrist. Steve tried not to mourn the loss. “You can call me Billy, by the way.”

Billy. Steve rolled the name around in his mouth and decided he liked it. He would’ve expected the fallen angel currently guiding them through the other guests to have a name as elegant as his clothes but for some reason the commonality of it almost stood out more.

It suited him.

“Steve. And that is Robin.” He replied with a tongue that felt too big for his mouth, trying not to drool. The entire back of Billy’s shirt was taken up by a sheer panel that showed each fluid shift of his back muscles as he walked.

Steve wanted to bite them.

He was shaken out of his trance when they arrived to a smaller living room than the one at the front, where only a small handful of guests lingered. Five or six people besides them, max. A guard stood at the entrance, but paid Steve and Robin no mind as they trailed in at Billy’s heels.

He led them to a couch, where only one other person was sitting. A lithe, wisp of a girl in a lilac satin cocktail dress, a silver chain belt draped over her hips and wild brown curls she’d hauled up into a bun. She was almost as captivating as the blond, with pointed, lovely features that reminded him of a little of the elves in Dustin’s movies.

Her eyes brightened as they landed on Billy, then turned sly as she moved to their guests. “Ooh, where’d you find these ones?” She all but purred, getting to her feet with feline grace. Steve didn’t have to feel guilty about his mind’s preoccupation with Billy, though.

Most of her attention seemed locked on Robin, who was currently wide eyed like a deer in traffic.

“They ah… got a little lost. Figured I’d be a good host and let them stay.” Billy sounded amused repeating their bad excuse, which made Steve bite down a little harder on his lip.

“I’m not complaining. Have a seat.” She said, taking a step back and lowering herself onto the black couch once again. “Heather.” She held out a hand towards Robin, who took it expecting a shake.

“Nice to meet you. I’m um- uh…“ Steve almost wanted to laugh at how flustered the girl was, but he was self aware he’d been even worse than her before. He wasn’t going to invite her to call him out.

“Robin?” She finally managed, though it sounded a little like a question. Heather let out a pleasant peal of soft laughter. “You’re an awfully cute one.” She said like a fact, Robin’s freckles officially vanishing as her blush darkened impossibly more.

Oh god, what had they gotten themselves into?

#Eye Candy Ficlet #model!billy #model!heather #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #heather holloway #robin buckley #buckleway #billy antis dni #part three coming when my brain likes me #🌌 — w r i t i n g

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bluehoodiewoozi · 1 year

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The First Step

Boo Seungkwan x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, coming of age

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: mental breakdowns. adulting is hard. food mentions. mutual pining.

[Series: Serenity Street 17] Your neighbour witnessed your mental breakdown and decided to take you under his protective wing.

The first step is always the hardest.

You found yourself repeating the mantra to yourself day and night after moving into your new apartment. It was a free comfort.

No more parents, siblings or roommates. Just you, yourself, and your new independence, in an apartment that you were almost entirely responsible of. You could decorate to your own desires, you could sleep until noon without anyone judging, you could get as many houseplants and paintings and chairs and blankets as you ever wished.

You had smiled brightly when you first placed your three plates into the cupboard and fluffed the cushions on the sofa. You had laughed in joy when you played your music out loud without anyone telling you to lower the volume. These were your first steps into adulthood and the first steps were always the hardest.

At first the mantra seemed to work and you didn’t feel too awful about your newfound independence, but after a while, the words lost their magic.

How many steps could be the counted as the first ones? Who’s to say if you had already taken all of them and all that was left was adult misery?

Now, a month into living entirely on your own, you were on the breaking point. You paid rent and bills for the first time and you realised a crucial fact: you were entirely alone.

For some reason, today, this thought made your return from work uneasy. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to go there at all. Would it be too late to catch a train to your old home?

The lift moved upwards too fast for your liking that day. You opted for the slow route the stairs provided. Just so you could feel miserable for a little longer. Just to have a little more time to comfort yourself.

Four floors of stairs should have been more than enough to resolve the conflict raging in you. At the very least it should’ve distracted you. But the travel did neither and you were just as miserable – if not more – when you reached the door of apartment 4A.

As you stared the number, feeling somehow hollow at the thought of spending yet another night alone, lonely and miserable, something warm touched your cheek. It rolled gently along the skin. A single tear.

You scoffed at the idea of crying over something so silly. There was no way you were crying. Absolutely no way; you brushed the tear off your cheek and sniffled while searching your pockets for the key.

Your hands were shaking. Why were they shaking? Why was the entire world seeming to shake around you, mocking your loneliness?

“Hey, are you okay?” a soft voice sounded from your left.

Hastily, you brushed any tears off your face and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

It was easier to ignore the way your voice cracked in the middle of the sentence. But the person worrying for you seemed to think otherwise. He sighed.

“There’s no use in lying to me, you know,” he told you matter-of-factly while taking slow steps closer to you. “I’m kind of like a human lie detector.”

“It’s fine. It’s whatever.” You shook any ideas of telling him out of your head. You had no interest in having a therapy session with a stranger.

Yet tears still fell as you held the key up to the hole it was supposed to fit in. You brushed them off again before a streak of black became visible on the sleeve. You scoffed. “And now my make-up’s ruined! Great!”

“Here,” the man offered and took the key from your shaking hands. He unlocked the door for you and led you inside with a gentle hand on your upper back. “There we go. You look like you need to lie down for a little.”

You opened your mouth to argue. Only a breathless sob came out as you nearly fell onto the sofa. Your own body was betraying you in front of a stranger.

“I’m Seungkwan,” he offered, as if reading your mind and the doubts inside of it, “I live in 4B. So, I’m not a complete stranger. You can trust me, even if it’s just a little.” He then grimaced a little. “Or, if you really don’t trust me, you can just report me to Lee Jihoon. I’m sure he’d be glad to yell at me for causing an already-crying person distress.”

For some reason, his words made you feel a little better. Maybe it served as a distraction. Maybe it reminded you that you weren’t as alone in this building as you felt.

“Would he really yell at you?” you asked in a meek voice when your cries subsided after a little a while.

As your eyes slowly cleared, you found yourself staring at a friendly-looking man, his hair a dark tousled mess, his grey sweater covered in patches of white dog fur, and a pair of bunny slippers on his feet. He seemed nothing if not friendly.

Seungkwan scoffed at your question. “Jihoon would yell at me for fun on a random Wednesday midnight. He once chewed me out for removing a silly post-it note off the notice board.” His feet nudged yours. “Have you met him yet? He’s the building owner’s son so he’s sort of in charge of all the tenants. How long have you lived here anyway? I think I was out of town when you moved in.”

“A month now.”

“A whole month? And this is the first time we’ve talked?” He seemed puzzled, flabbergasted, and almost offended. “That’s strange. I’m usually friends with everyone within a week.”

You sighed and stared at your feet. “I’m not the most sociable type. Sorry.”

Immediately he frowned. “What are you apologising for? It’s fine. We’re going to be friends now.” He said it with such conviction that you had no option but to trust him.

Maybe you just liked the thought of having a friend in this building. Someone to talk to and vent to and to offer you emotional support. A friend, finally.

“Did you have dinner yet?” he asked soon after. “If you don’t feel like cooking, we can share mine? I made too much food again anyway.”

“I…” You really doubted you should agree. He was still, essentially, a stranger. Your neighbour, sure, and a possible future friend, but you knew nothing about him outside of his overly kind nature. Perhaps you were feeling desperate for some company that night, or maybe you wanted to take yet another first step – you said yes.

Within fifteen minutes, Seungkwan had covered your coffee table with plates full of side dishes and rice. He smiled brightly as he watched you eat your first mouthfuls. And it seemed that just as fast as the impromptu dinner started, it ended. Soon, your stomach was full as was your heart and your mind felt a little bit more at peace now.

“See, you look happier already,” he cooed and offered you a sweet look that made butterflies fly just a little in your lonely heart. “Eat some more. If we can’t finish this, I’ll have to bring these to the sixth floor to Vernon again and I just don’t have the energy to deal with him today.”

“I can’t fit any more food in me,” you whined and fell further into your soft sofa. “I’m going to burst at this rate. Why do you cook so much anyway?”

He shrugged. “Force of habit. I used to room with Vernon and Junhui in 6A and they eat a lot, but they’re such a mess that I just couldn’t take it anymore and moved to 4B when the possibility came.” He ate a mouthful of kimchi before adding, “Best decision of my life.”

Your heart felt heavy again. “Did you ever feel lonely after you moved into 4B?”

“Lonely?” He blinked at you. “Lonely how?”

“Like you’re all on your own again and you don’t have anyone to depend on? Like you’re entirely responsible for your life now? And now if you break the washing machine you have to replace it entirely out of your funds?”

You watched him as the reality of your situation sunk in. His lips fell into a pout the more he thought about it.

“Is that why you were crying earlier?” he asked gently. “You’re scared of living on your own like this?”

“It’s not that I’m afraid,” you corrected with a deep breath between the phrases, “but it is all a little scary. It’s like the real life has just begun.”

“Because it has,” he reminded you with a gentle pat on the back, “but that’s the best part. You’ll get used to it soon, you’ll find more friends soon, and then you’ll have people to depend on and you’ll know what to do. It just takes a little time to figure it out.”

You sighed. It came out a little shaky. “Will you help me? Will you help me figure it all out?”

He offered a smile. “If you want my help, absolutely. And if you want the help of other people in this building, just say the word, and they’ll all come running to help you fix your washing machine, okay?”

You let out a laugh, and though it wasn’t quite cheerful yet, it was getting there slowly, just as you were getting used to your situation slowly.

“But to answer your question,” Seungkwan began after a moment of thought, “yes. I felt lonely at first. I kept going back to 6A in the evenings, just lounging on their couch as they ate my leftovers. I still cook for three even though it’s just me.” He sighed. “I did get a dog though, so that’s good. I never could’ve gotten a dog living with those two. They’re both cat people.”

“Should I get a pet too?” you wondered for a moment, more just to have a thought than to actually consider it.

Seungkwan looked around the apartment for a moment, then turned to give you a glance and a smile. “I think maybe start with a houseplant first. If you need someone to water it when you’re out of town, just call me or any of the other tenants. I think Chan and Anna both have a knack for plants. Just don’t call Jihyeon – she’s as forgetful and lazy as they come.”

Feeling a little lighter after hearing his words, you decided to joke, “And if I break my washing machine, which tenant do I call then?”

Seungkwan took a bite of rice and radish. He chewed thoughtfully before deciding, “Joshua from 3A. He’s good with this kind of stuff.”

Funnily enough Jihoon had told you the exact opposite: to avoid asking for Joshua’s help at any cost. You laughed at the contradiction. This time laughter didn’t feel so difficult.

Little did you know, it was at this moment that Seungkwan made a silent promise to protect your smile for as long as you would allow him.

He quickly became your best friend in the entire city. It came easy with the way he always seemed to return from his morning run just as you were leaving for work. The at-first hesitant bows and smiles quickly turned into cheerful waves and morning news. And just like that, you had a friend. You didn’t feel so lonely anymore.

“Oh, I hate to ask this, but do you mind if we have dinner together tonight?” he had asked you this morning, his face still red from the physical exertion. “My cooker broke last week and I’m about to go insane if I don’t get a home-cooked meal.”

You had shrugged and told him, “Fine, but you’re cooking.”

Truthfully, you almost forgot about your promise at work. There was so much to do, and so little time. The memory of the morning exchange only came to you as you walked into the building on Serenity Street. You wondered if Seungkwan had known you’d be too exhausted to cook dinner that night.

The thought of warm food on your mind, with a newfound vigour, you stepped into the lift and pressed the button for the 4th floor. Before long – but just long enough that you felt a little impatient – you were at your destination, and so was Seungkwan.

He was once again wearing his bright smile, red pyjama pants and a grey sweater (this time it didn’t have any dog fur at least). His hair was still a tired mess and he was wearing his signature bunny slippers as he waited outside of your door.

“Good evening, my wonderful neighbour,” he declared loudly the moment you stepped into his view.

You offered him a playfully dramatic bow and unlocked the door, opening it for him. “What’s on the menu today, my good sir?”

He snorted at the honorific and practically ran to throw his phone onto the coffee table and himself onto your sofa as if it was his own home. “Whatever the master of the house wishes. I can cook well.”

“In that case,” you contemplated for a bit before deciding on your latest craving, “pancakes?”

“Pancakes?” He hummed in agreement but made no movement to remove himself from your sofa.

You lifted your foot to nudge him with it. “Do you not have a sofa of your own? Or, like, a bed?”

He grunted and closed his eyes tighter. “My sofa isn’t as soft. Seriously,” he sat up just a bit to give it a once-over, “where did you get this thing from? It’s like a luxury item.”

“I don’t know, it was here when I moved in,” you laughed. “Ask Jihoon.”

He fell back into the softness and moaned in content. “I will. The next time I see him.”

You shrugged off your coat and sat down next to him, lifting your legs onto the sofa and, when you realised you could have more fun with it because this was your sofa, you threw your legs over his thighs. He only hummed and gave your calf a soft pat.

When a few minutes had passed of just relaxing and becoming one with the couch, you finally felt your tummy grumble. So, you nudged Seungkwan. “Hey, when are you going to make pancakes?”

Seungkwan sighed. “Do I have to?”

“You promised.”

“I also promised my mom I’d stop eating convenience store snacks every other day, and yet here we are.”

“So, you’re not going to make me pancakes?”

He hummed affirmative.

You shook your head in mock disappointment. “Guess I’ll have to report you to Jihoon then. Such a shame. I’m sure he’ll love to yell at you though.”

His eyes opened just a little to glare at you. When you offered an innocent smile, he groaned and sat up properly. “And to think I took you under my wing because you seemed like such a shy little sweetheart.”

“Are you suggesting I’m not?”

“You might actually be the devil.”

“Ouch. Now, make us some pancakes.”

Seungkwan sighed deeply and reached for his phone. You watched curiously as he unlocked it. “Hey, Siri?” He paused for a moment before sighing once again and asking, “How do you make pancakes?”

Your laughter quickly filled the apartment, unable to believe he didn’t know how to make something a simple as pancakes. What a great cook!

“Do you want me to cook instead?” you teased as he read over the instructions provided by his phone. “I think I’ll do better than you.”

He offered you a mild glare. “I’d like you to put a bit more trust in my ability to cook, neighbour.”

“I’d trust you if you didn’t have to ask Siri for a pancake recipe,” you retorted with a laugh and relaxed into the couch.

“I’ll show you!” He stood up abruptly, pushing your legs off his own, and offered you yet another mild glare, a bit more playful than irked.

You hummed. “Let me know if you need any help.”

“I won’t need any help. I’m not five.” He stuck out his tongue before laughing at his own silliness and waddling to the kitchen while mumbling to himself, “I’m like a child today; what’s going on?”

Deciding to give Seungkwan the benefit of a doubt, you remained in your seat and picked up your phone to pass the time. He was an adult man, so surely he could make pancakes on his own.

Barely two minutes passed – complete with the sound of cupboards being opened and closed – before you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. Seungkwan stood behind the couch, looking like a sheepish child with the way he slumped and pouted in your front of your eyes.

You blinked up at him. “... Yes?”

He pouted some more. “Where’s your mixing bowl?”

“I thought you didn’t need help.”

“Just tell me where the mixing bowl is and I won’t ask for any more help,” he vowed but somehow the both of you knew it was an empty promise. Still, you got up and helped him out.

Watching him cook would at least distract you from your exhaustion.

Five minutes passed and you found yourself questioning your decision to let him into your kitchen at all. As he continued adding more and more flour to the mix, you tapped his wrist. “I’m not entirely sure that’s correct.”

“Are you questioning my judgement?”

“Absolutely. You’re going to break our teeth.”

He blinked at you. “Isn’t the mix supposed to be thick?”

“You’re not baking a cookies, you’re frying pancakes.”

“... Is that why not even Vernon liked my pancakes?” he realised, looking as annoyed as he did heartbroken. “No one ever told me the mix was supposed to be lighter.”

“I’m telling you now,” you told him with a laugh and a gentle pat on his head. “The mix is ready, you just have to fry it now. Do you want some help?”

He scoffed. “I’ve got this part down, I’m sure. I’m not that dumb.”

“I’m not saying you’re dumb,” you whined in response, “I’m just saying that this will take you forever do make on your own and I’m hungry now. I’m gonna faint at this rate, Seungkwan.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed and put his hands up in defeat. “You get the pans, I’ll turn the cooker on.” He clicked his tongue at your excitement. “You’re so lucky we’re friends.”

Unfortunately your friend couldn’t always be there to comfort you and offer amusement after a long day.

“Leave your message after the signal,” you heard his voice repeat back to you when you tried to call him on your way home. The things you would’ve done for just one minute of his company after this Friday.

It had been a horrible day all around, ever since you opened your eyes. You woke up late, the lift kept jolting weirdly when you tried to leave the building, then you were late to work and making mistakes left and right, eventually spilling your hot drink on your legs during lunch break – all around terrible and horrible and awful.

All you wanted was your best friend’s support.

“Leave your message after the signal,” his voice asked you once again, the pre-recorded message just playing back every time you dialled his number. You’d have to spend this lonely and bad evening on your own.

As you entered the apartment building, you just about started crying on the spot right in front of the lift.

“Out of service due to a mechanical error. Sorry :(” read the building owner’s son’s handwriting on a white piece of paper taped to the doors.

Of course the lift was broken on this particular day. Tears were already burning in your eyes, but at least you now knew why the lift had been so shaky in the morning.

You took a deep breath and turned towards the stairs. To your dismay, the building owner just so happened to enter the hallway when you turned that way. He offered you curious look. “Hey, are you okay? Is this because of the lift? It should be fixed by next week.”

You wished it had been just about the lift. You replied with a shake of your head and headed up the stairs. He called after you but you decided to ignore it. You needed the comfort of either you best friend or no one, but not a stranger you only saw once a week.

The door of your apartment could not have been further away. When you finally reached it, another horrible reality hit you.

You felt your pockets, rummaging through them with increasing panic. Soon you were crying while desperately searching your pockets and bag. Finally, it became clear: you had forgotten your apartment key in your desk drawer at work. The mental image of shutting said drawer as you left work seemed to echo in your mind. You slumped against the door and sat on the floor with a sob.

“Hey, are you okay?” your other friendly neighbour asked.

Jihyeon was her name and she was a college student living in apartment 4D – the least least renovated apartment in the building, and thus the cheapest one. You only knew about her through Seungkwan’s retellings of his playful feud with said neighbour.

Could you consider a friend to confide in?

“Did something happen?” she wondered and rushed to kneel in front of you. “Do you want me to call someone?”

“I can’t get into my apartment,” you eventually told her through tears. “God, this day has been absolutely horrible.”

She frowned at your words and reached out to pat your shoulder. “I don’t have the spare key of 4A either. I don’t know if even Jihoon does. Do you want me to go ask him?”

You dreaded going back to the first floor to ask for Jihoon’s help when he’d already witnessed you have a break-down over what he must have assumed was the lift. You figured you’d rather just sleep on your welcome mat.

“I guess that’s a no,” Jihyeon concluded hurriedly and pulled you into a gentle hug when you started crying just a little harder. Crying into her shoulder felt a little safer, at least. “There, there, I’ve got you.”

“What’s going on here?” you heard a familiar voice you’d been longing for after what felt like hours of crying.

Jihyeon let you keep crying as she answered, “She had a bad day and she doesn’t have her key. She’s been crying for 15 minutes now.”

Seungkwan let out a little whine. Then you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, gently pulling you away from Jihyeon’s comforting embrace. The smell of Seungkwan’s cologne did wonders to you.

“What happened, hm?” he asked you softly when your cries let up a little.

“I forgot my key at work,” you told him, unsure if you could recount the rest of your day without crying more yet. “I just want to eat dinner and sleep all of this off.”

The feel of his lips on your forehead was unfamiliar. Another first step. You wondered how hard it was for him. Was it was difficult at all.

He then offered, “Do you want to come to my apartment? I’ll make you some food and you can sleep a little.”

You nodded so lightly that you wondered if he’d realise you did it at all. But Seungkwan knew you better than anyone in this building – and possibly this entire town – and he knew perfectly well what you meant.

He leaned down to offer you a little smile before helping you onto your shaky legs. His key was ready in his hand already, just waiting to unlock the door.

When you stepped into his apartment, you quickly realised that in your months of friendship, you hadn’t been to Seungkwan’s home even once. He always came to your apartment, often with dinner and a wide smile. Today you came into his apartment, with a sad heart and eyes full of tears.

“Here, I’ll take your coat.”

You let him do as he pleased. You didn’t even protest when he just about dragged you to his sofa and placed a soft throw blanket over your lap. As tears dried, you just felt a little numb. You distracted yourself from the empty feeling with the affection of Seungkwan’s little white dog. The small animal had made his way into your lap and seemed to greatly enjoy tummy rubs.

“I think he likes you more than he likes me,” you hazily remember Seungkwan telling you at one point.

Your sense of time must have also been affected because you could’ve sworn dinner was ready within mere minutes and it was finished just as fast. In reality over an hour had passed.

“Do you want to stay the night?” he offered while encouraging you to nap on his sofa. “Then you could sleep in your own bed instead of my sofa– Actually, do you want my bed? I can’t let you sleep on this thing made of bricks.”

“It’s not too bad,” you managed to tell him over the edge of the blanket. The dog had also settled down with you under the fleece material, happy to rest his little head on your arm.

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Are you insane? You’ll get back problems.”

“You don’t have to give up your bed for me,” you told him as he began dragging you towards his bedroom. “I’m fine on the sofa.”

“No, I’m fine on the sofa. You had a hard day and deserve the best sleep,” he declared and began searching through his drawers when he eventually got you to sit on the soft mattress. Before you could even say anything, he handed you a t-shirt and some shorts. “I can’t let you sleep in your work clothes either. These will be more comfortable.”

He left the room without giving you the chance to protest. So, you did as he expected and dressed in his clothes. Something about them felt so comforting that you found yourself regretting the thought of rejecting them.

“There you go,” Seungkwan told you just a few minutes later, placing the blankets over you in a motherly manner. He had made sure to bring the fleece throw he had given you on the sofa, as well as the white little dog – Bookkeu was his name.

“He’ll keep you warm at night,” your friend joked and gave the dog a little pat on the head. The dog didn’t seem to mind and just snuggled further into your side. “I’ll leave you to sleep now,” Seungkwan whispered after pressing just one more small kiss to your forehead. “If you need anything, I’m in the living room. Good night.”

Whatever his bed was made of, it was the best sleep you had had since moving into the building. You felt at home in his room, his dog by your side, and sleep still heavy in your eyes.

When you finally woke up on Saturday, your brain was less emotionally distressed and more annoyed. As you sat there, you wondered if you’d have to spend the entire weekend in Seungkwan’s apartment – your one houseplant would die of loneliness (but mostly underwatering).

Deciding this was a problem to be solved after breakfast, you stumbled out of Seungkwan’s room. Bookkeu was right on your tail.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Seungkwan’s singing voice greeted you, accompanied by the smell of fresh pancakes.

You weren’t sure you could trust his pancakes. His last attempt hadn’t exactly been encouraging. Suspicious of the food but grateful nevertheless, you sat down at his table. “You cooked.”

“I did,” he told you with a laugh. “And now you get to eat.”

You placed a pancake on your plate carefully, eyeing it as if it would start screaming at any moment.

“I think I made them the right way this time,” Seungkwan mentioned as he watched your theatrical act. “I even asked for Mingyu’s help. I never ask for Mingyu’s help.”

“Mingyu?” You raised an eyebrow and finally took a forkful of the pancake, hesitantly lifting it. “You called him?”

“No, we met when I went downstairs to see Jihoon.”

He gently pushed your full fork upwards towards your lips. It helped that your jaw had fallen open to ask the next question. Your words were muffled by the bite of pancakes as you asked, “Why did you go to see Jihoon?”

Seungkwan snapped his fingers, remembering something. He jumped up and rushed towards the kitchen to rummage through something. A moment later, he returned with something small and shiny in his hand. He opened his palm and smiled at your proudly. “I got you a spare key.”

You dropped your fork. “A spare key?”

“Yeah, Jihoon said he was going to give you one anyway, to give to one of the neighbours in case you forget your own,” he told you and placed the key in your hand. “All apartments have two spares, one for you to give to someone you trust, and another for the owners, or Jihoon, in the case of emergency.”

“Then I’m supposed to give this to someone I trust?”

He nodded. “I gave mine to Jihyeon. She may be a little lazy and she might procrastinate more than healthy, but she’s trustworthy. I’m sure she’d be happy if you gave yours to her too.”

“Who has her key then?” you wondered, your finally curiosity making a comeback after the previous day’s dreadful events.

“I’m pretty sure Junhui has it.”

“Why Junhui?” As much as you thought the man in question was a sweetheart, you highly doubted his ability to keep a spare key safe. Especially after all of the horror stories Seungkwan had told you about Junhui and Vernon’s apartment.

Seungkwan thought for a moment, brows furrowing, before shrugging. “Who knows what goes through her head, honestly. I’m sure you’ll make a better choice though.”

You told yourself you’d think about it later, but you had an idea already.

The more time you spent with Seungkwan, the more you began to wonder if what was between you was just friendship. Maybe it was and you were just overthinking it. Or maybe his heart fluttered a little bit whenever he saw your smile too.

“Just date already,” Mingyu told the two of you when you returned from shopping and Seungkwan took half of your bags from you. You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at the nosy neighbour but Seungkwan beat you to it.

“Mind your own business, Kim Mingyu!”

The man in question rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to but the two of you are blocking the lift with all of these bags and your heart-eyes.”

“What business do you have that you need to use the lift anyway? You live on the first floor,” you wondered, fully aware that he lived on the first floor. The only possible reason you could think of was escaping Xin’s or Jihoon’s wrath.

He sighed deeply and turned on his heel. “Fine, I’ll just take the stairs.”

“Nice,” Seungkwan laughed as the doors closed, “we have the lift to ourselves. This thing is too small for three people.”

He then began inspecting your bags. “What did you buy anyway? These don’t look like groceries.”

“Thought I’d finally decorate my apartment to my liking,” you confessed. “It’s getting kind of dull living like this.”

“But you still didn’t buy any houseplants though,” Seungkwan joked. “I think your apartment could use some better air.”

You grimaced. “I don’t know anything about houseplants though. I’d probably kill it like I did the last three.”

“Have you tried getting a cactus?”

The lift came to a stop and opened its doors. You stepped out and headed towards your apartment with Seungkwan in tow.

“Oh, wait,” Seungkwan begged and rushed to his own door, “let me get Bookkeu. He’d love to see your apartment.”

You weren’t sure if white dog fur would go with your new vision of the apartment, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no.

Within seconds, Bookkeu was out the door and jumping in front of your feet, excited beyond belief.

“He really likes you more than his own owner,” Seungkwan sighed in disappointment and waited for you to unlock the door. “And to think I spent all those years raising you, you brat.”

“I’m starting to think Bookkeu likes everyone but Seungkwan,” Jihyeon cracked her door open just to make the joke and then closed the door again. Rumour had it her apartment has zero noise isolation and she could hear every word uttered in this hallway. You felt a little bad for her.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes before closing them and reminding himself, “Everyone is free to form their own opinions.”

You opened the door in the meantime. Unsurprisingly, Bookkeu was the first one inside. You and Seungkwan struggled a little to enter with all of the bags. How you had made it home at all was a miracle.

“This is a lot of stuff,” Seungkwan concluded once the bags were laid out onto the floor. “Do you need all of this?”

“I just want to feel at home in my apartment,” you told him with a shrug.

He hummed in agreement. “Are you also going to do any actual remodelling? Or just the decorations?”

“I’m thinking of changing the wallpaper.”

“Great, just let me know when and I’ll come over to help. That’s a two-people job.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little flustered at how easily he agreed to help you, even without being asked. He just expected to help you wherever he could. You’d pay back the favour one day.

“Should we put on some music?” he suggested, already reaching for his phone with one hand while heading to your bedroom. “Your speaker’s on your bedside table, right?”

You nodded and began unpacking the first bag. Bit by bit, you uncovered the new curtains and table cloths you had purchased. Just seeing them in your apartment brought you joy.

As you debated which curtains to put up, you heard the speaker beginning to play on the coffee table – you must have been very distracted to not notice Seungkwan returning and sitting so close to you on the floor that he was touching you.

“Oh, I put this together for you,” he excitedly told you while turning the volume up. “I think you’ll like these songs.”

Your heart stuttered. It wasn’t fair that he had this effect on you when he was just being friendly.

Once you were sure your voice wouldn’t betray your conflict of feelings, you uttered, “You made me a playlist?” He nodded nonchalantly (but if you had paid him just a little more attention, you would’ve realised his ears were more red than his hoodie). You just couldn’t believe it. “A playlist? For me?”

“Yeah,” he stuttered after a while, unable to meet your eyes as he tried to play it cool. “If you don’t like it, you can just say.”

“Can you send me the link?”

He gulped and whipped his head to meet your eyes. “What?”

“The link. Send it.” It was your turn to act cool. Your hands were shaking just a little as you continued unpacking. “I’ll have to give it a good listen one day to judge if you know me that well at all.”

You weren’t looking so he dared to smile. “Alright. I’ll send it later.”

“By the way,” you cleared your throat and continued your act, “take the spare key when you leave later.”

Seungkwan just about dropped his phone on Bookkeu’s head. It occurred to you that maybe – just maybe – you had a similar effect on him as he did on you.

“You want me to have it?” he asked to confirm. “Are you sure? You don’t want to give it to Jihyeon?”

“I trust you more,” you told him softly. “I’d like you to have it.”

His lips formed a pout as he bit back the wish to cry of joy – he had earned your trust and made you feel safe, just as he had promised himself he would. You thought of him as your friend.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he whispered after a while, his hand finding yours to give it a gentle squeeze before returning to where Bookkeu sat in his lap. “I’ll keep your key safe.” (He wished he had the courage take the first steps and add, “just like I’ll keep you safe.”)

NOTE: Happy holiday season! This fic was written when I was homesick and thus it may be self-indulgent, but I hope it brought some comfort or was at least somewhat enjoyable to read <3

This was originally supposed to have more romance, but you know what? Not everyone needs to be in love and not every fic needs to have a cheesy confession scene. I like this fic the way it is. However, fully expect these two to become a cute couple in the background of the next serenity street fics!

#seventeenweeklyarticle #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #boo seungkwan scenarios #svt scenarios #seungkwan fic #.avy writes

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nothannuh · 2 years

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take my breath away

in which steve drags you to watch top gun. [wc 2.1k]

pairing; steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings; tom cruise, fluff, best friends to lovers, one pet name (bub), swearing, ghostbusters slander (i’m sorry i love ghostbusters), the timeline is all messed up because i’m making up stuff to match with when top gun came out, minorly edited so there is bound to be many mistakes

“so... does this mean you’ll see top gun with me?” steve asks. he was being strange, stranger than usual. more touchy too.

you sigh. “steve, i don’t want to watch some stupid plane movie.”

he scoffed, “it’s not just a plane movie, it’s about fighter pilots, which is so much cooler than just planes!”

steve had showed up to your door, begging you to see top gun with him. robin didn’t feel like going, claiming she was sick. “you are going to be the death of me, harrington.” you say, grabbing your jacket and pushing him out the door.

“you’re gonna love it, i promise.” he held out his pinky. “c’mon, pinky promise?”

locking your pinky finger with his, you laugh. “whatever you say. if i end up hating this you’re gonna pay for everything for the next movie night, that includes snacks, drinks, and the movie.”

“i always pay for the movie, perks of working at family video.” he winked. you fake gagged.

“actually, i’ll pay for the movie. you can get everything else. you have horrible taste.”

steve began to drive, but took one hand off the wheel to hold it to his heart, “you wound me, bub! you are so evil.”

“i’m not the one who made us watch ghostbusters three days in a row.” you tease.

“oh c’mon, ghostbusters is awesome!”

“steve, it was so boring! i almost fell asleep all three times!”

steve gave you a look, “i’m telling the kids that you said that. be prepared.”

“you suck.”

steve knew it was all in good fun, “yeah, yeah, whatever. i’m sure you’ll like top gun better than ghostbusters.”

“and why is that?”

“tom cruise! every girl like tom cruise, right?”

you pause, “he’s... definitely alright.”

“am i better than tom cruise?”

regret filled your stomach as you answered, “somewhat.” steve smiled ear to ear. “oh god, i can see your ego inflating. i shouldn’t have said anything.”

steve just responded by turning the radio up.

upon arriving at the theater, you could see a large group of people crowding in.

“holy shit... i think we should’ve waited until you could rent it.”

“and miss out of the whole movie theater experience? yeah right!”

you hid your face, aggressively rubbing at your cheeks. “steve we’re gonna be packed in there like sardines!”

you both climbed out of his car, and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “it’ll be fine! i made sure to save the best seats in the house, so that’s gotta mean something right?”

“how’d you reserve seats?”

he winked, “i have my ways.”

“oh right, forgot about your harrington charm.” you tease

hugging you closer into his side, he whispered, “like it hasn’t worked on you.”

usually, the closeness wouldn’t bother you, but steve was a lot closer than usual. it made you feel funny on the inside. you couldn’t tell if it was good or not.

“in your dreams, harrington.”

the inside of the theater was insane. long lines to get drinks and popcorn, and an even longer line to the bathroom. “jesus...”

“hey, go get some popcorn while i get the tickets. remember, no butter!” he urged you towards the machine.

“forgot you were a freak.” you mumbled to yourself. steve was a strange character, that’s for sure.

once he paid for the tickets, he made his way over to you. you were shaking slightly, thinking about the amount of people probably crowded beyond belief. he noticed this, putting a hand on the small of your back. “it’ll be alright, just focus on the movie.”

“yeah, focus on dumb planes...”

“dumb planes.” he repeated to himself, then chuckled. “you love it! i pinky promised, remember?”

“whatever, harrington.”

the inside of the room wasn’t that packed, definitely not shoulder-to-shoulder, but still enough people to make you uncomfortable.

steve was right, he did reserve the best seats in the house. they were in the very back, two empty seats.

previews were already playing, your favorite part.

“oh my god, we have to see that!” you exclaimed at every trailer. steve just laughed, but he knew you would end up dragging him to see every single one. he wouldn’t complain, anything with you was fun.

this was undoubtedly the loudest theater you’ve ever been in. as soon as “TOP GUN” showed up on screen, everyone cheered. they cheered for every actor, and started clapping when danger zone by kenny loggins started playing.

steve was one of those people, cheering at everything. although you thought the opening sequence was a little long, it made steve happy, so you didn’t mind.

“ghostrider is such a sexy name for a plane.” steve whispered to you. it made you laugh.

as the movie progressed, you couldn’t help but enjoy it. “okay, it’s not a dumb plane movie.”

“see!” steve said all too loud, then quieter. “i told you, fighter pilots top everything.”

goose had become your favorite character already.

“oh my god...” you whispered at the volleyball scene.

“oh, so you like oily guys playing volleyball? noted.” steve whispered. if it wasn’t so dark in the theater, he would’ve made fun of your blush. the thought of steve playing volleyball, shirtless, entered your mind. you shook your head slightly.

steve noticed your mind was somewhere else. he smiled to himself.

as soon as the lights turned back on, you were in awe. it was actually a really good dumb plane movie. steve seemed to love it too, although he was staring at you.

you gave him a puzzled look, “what?”

“so... good?”

you hit his shoulder, starting to get up. “yeah, whatever. it was good. i can’t believe i cried so much at goose’s death. that was extremely fucked up of them.”

he nodded, “agreed. what do you say we go on a little drive? i’m not too keen on going home yet.”

you understood what he meant. his parents weren’t home, and unlike other teens, he didn’t like to be alone. the house was all too big and all too quiet. it scared him.

“of course, butt-muncher.” you laughed.

“butt-muncher? that’s new.”

“it’s your call sign, i’ve just made it up.”

“ha ha. very sweet of you, bub, but i think i deserve something a little cooler than butt-muncher. maybe something along the lines of maverick, maybe iceman?”

getting back into his car, you looked over at him with a strange look on your face. “so you just wanna steal the ones from the movie? why not be original? butt-muncher is original and funny.”

“whatever you say, ass-hat.”

“wow, that was a low blow, butt-muncher!” you and steve both laugh.

steve started the drive, driving down roads you had never seen before, allowing you to see a different side of hawkins than you were used to.

you two sat in silence for what seemed like forever, although it was only 15 minutes.

steve broke the silence. “i’d be a good fighter pilot, right?”

“you’re telling me that you, steve harrington, would fly a fighter jet?” you ask and he nods. “i don’t believe that. i mean, sure, you’d look good doing it, but the thought of you flying something is so funny.”

“i’d look good doing it?” steve felt weird. a good weird, but hearing that you think he would look doing something was strange. he felt happy. maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way.

steve was good at hiding how he felt. all of his touches, though wanting to be more than friendly, weren’t seen as that. they were just little pieces of affection that only friends would do. his flirting was taken as a joke, but it wasn’t.

“you look good doing everything.” you say in a small voice. and he did. he looked good in that moment, driving with one hand, glancing over at you every so often. “steve? you good over there?”

he shook his head. his attention was frozen on the road for a little bit, unresponsive. “what? oh yeah, i’m totally fine. tubular even.”

“you are so stupid.” you laugh.

“oh but you love me.” he teased.

“yeah, i do.” you admitted. you were best friends, you had said you loved the other one before. there was something different about this time, though. steve felt it, and you certainly felt it too.

the car fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the engine the only thing in the air. steve had the radio so low it was almost silent. you couldn’t tell what was on.

“what did you think of the piano scene? great balls of fire.”

steve looked to you, catching your eyes. his ears were red. “i liked it. i liked the i laughed at love ‘cause i thought it was funny bit.”

“you think love is funny?” you ask. you hoped he hadn’t taken it the wrong way.

“eh, it’s confusing for sure.”

the atmosphere was awkward, so you decided to make it less awkward. or maybe, a little more awkward. you wanted steve to smile again.

“but you came along and you moved me honey.” you sang, incredibly off-key and loud. you had a twang in your voice, trying to make steve laugh. it worked.

“i’ve changed my mind,” he yelled, tapping on the steering wheel. “this love is fine.”

“goodness gracious, great balls of fire!” you said simultaneously.

you two had broken out into song, singing the entire thing as if you hadn’t heard it for the first time earlier that day. there was no music, nothing to keep you in the rhythm. you two created it for yourselves.

your eyes were closed, too caught up in singing to notice the car was parked. steve was still singing with you, just quieter. he was admiring you. you looked so peaceful in his eyes, in your element. he loved you.

as you neared the end of the song, you turned to steve. he was quiet. “you look weird.” you say.

he was taken aback. “what?”

“you’re all red. i think you were singing too hard.” you laugh. he was singing too hard, but he wasn’t red for that reason. “c’mon.”

he had driven to his house, figuring it would be more bearable to be there if you were with him.

you got to the door before him. when he went to unlock it, his hands were shaking. “did you eat too much candy, harrington?”

“what?” he looked to his hands, running one through his hair to ease the shakes. “yeah, uh... yeah.”

you thought he was being really strange, stranger than steve normally was. he was weird the whole day.

steve was quiet as he led you to his room. you spent many summers laying on his floor. he had air conditioning, and hawkins heat was killer. “hey, so... i was wondering-” you started.

“take my breath away. that song in the movie? reminded me of you.”

the confession was rushed, steve seemingly regretting it as he began to mess with papers on his desk. “oh yeah? it reminded me of tom cruise. he takes my breath away.”

“seriously? i basically just told you i liked you and you mention tom cruise?” he sounded hurt, but then he started laughing. you worried you actually hurt his feelings.

“okay, skipping over that confession, remember when i said you were better than tom cruise? yeah.”

“oh.”

“i like you too, butt-muncher.”

steve suddenly felt very hot, and very unstable, like he would fall down if he stood any longer. he flopped onto the bed. “i don’t know what came over me to say that.”

“so you don’t like me?”

he was quick to correct himself. “no! no, i uh, i definitely do. i just don’t know what possessed me to say it so... weirdly, i guess?.”

you laughed, sitting next to him. “i don’t know either. you are strange and weird.”

“well, you like strange and weird me, so.”

“that i do.”

“can i kiss you?” usually steve would be less nervous kissing someone, but it was you. his best friend, who he just found out felt the same way.

you nodded your head, too stunned to think of something witty.

the kiss felt normal, like you two were made to be together. it was beyond nice. your hand found his neck, touching the hair there.

the kiss was short, but left you breathless. “whatcha thinking ‘bout?” steve said. he was still oh so close to your face. you almost couldn’t speak, but alas, you found words.

“tom cruise playing volleyball.”

“oh you suck, you are even more evil than i thought.” he teased, leaning in to kiss you all over your face.

the whole time, you replayed take my breath away by berlin. steve took your breath away.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff

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water-to-drink · 1 year

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Ghost Puncher

(Characters): Scaramouche, Childe, & Xinyan

(Summary): After moving into a new apartment you realize there’s a ghost haunting it, but you don’t plan on making it easy for the ghost

(Warnings): Cursing, like a lot of cursing, reader almost dies, Scara is referred to as ghost until the last part, not proofread, (let me know if I miss anything)

(A/n): Heavily inspired by the 4chan greentext post of the same name, you can listen to a reading here, wrote this in one sitting, and don’t anything in this too seriously

─────────── ☠︎ ───────────

Finally having months of saving and looking for an apartment you found one! You were surprised when it was cheap and in a nice place which means everything is a lot more expensive

Everything seems to going your way until on your way back from food shopping, an air conditioner almost falls on your head; had you been a few steps closer it definitely would have landed on you

Despite being shaken up by this, you chalked it up to it being a near freak accident and continued with your day

After that incident you noticed a lot more unusual things happen around or to you. It all culminated when while watching tv you noticed the little silver charm you carry for protection was melted. It wasn’t hot, it was cold to the touch

Suddenly the lights went off, you know your electric bill had been paid so maybe a power outage? No. You can see the block still have there lights on. So what the fuck?

A loud scream turns your attention towards a corner of the room that’s drenched in darkness

You grabbed the bat you always kept near the tv and swung it at the noise

The bat hit something and the screaming stopped

The lights turn back on and you see that your bat connected to the wall, making a hole in it

Well shit, that’s something you’re gonna have to deal with later. You decided to call it a night and go to bed

The next day as you were about to make yourself dinner you see a shadowy figure run towards you. While trying to escape the figure you ran out of the apartment and the moment you got out, your front door slammed shut

“What the FUCK?!?!?!”

“Oh you’re the unlucky person who just moved into that haunted apartment?”

A tall man with messy orange hair asked while he rummage for his keys in his pocket

You stood there dumbfounded, your apartment is haunted by a fucking ghost. You should’ve noticed something was up with how cheap rent was. Usually a normal person’s response to this revelation is to move out, but that’s bitch behavior and you weren’t raised to pussy out when things get tough

“Hey are you okay…?” Your neighbor asked concerned about your silence

“Yeah, I’m good.” You muttered as you made sure you had your phone in your pocket, which you did. “I need to do some shopping.”

You walked down the hall, not giving your neighbor a chance to respond to you. If he said something then you didn’t hear it over you thanking your older relatives constantly nagging to wear shoes inside so you don’t get sick. You walked outside with your house shoes on, another reason to be pissed at the ghost

After a few hours out, you finally came back into your apartment

You put your bags down and continue to make yourself dinner. When you needed to chop some vegetables, you walked towards the bags and pull out the ouija board you bought. Taking it out and washing it you used it as a cutting board

“You know you ain’t shit, ghost?” You said as you chopped onions. “You’re doing all this poltergeist shit to make me scared of you. You can eat my ass with this bullshit!”

Once done cutting up the vegetables, you started stabbing the knife into the ouija board

“Bitch ass ghost! Trying to make me leave MY HOUSE!!!!” You said as you stabbed into the board

The board was unusable when you were done. You broke the ouija in half and threw it in the garbage can

After that whole ordeal you took your plate and had dinner

A few days have passed and you gotten to know your neighbors pretty well, the ginger who told you your apartment is haunted was a pretty cool guy. He introduced himself as Childe and introduced you to another neighbor just on a different floor, Xinyan. You’re at a cafe with your new friends, well you’re outside making a call while the two talk. You eventually got back to the table and apologize for leaving them

“Don’t be, must’a been important to make it outside.” Xinyan reassured

“Were you calling a priest? The noises in your apartment have been loud as of late, louder than when the last person lived there.” Childe said as he took a sip from his drink

“No I was leaving a voicemail to my house. I got one of those old house phones that tells you the message someone left.”

“Uhh… What was in the message?” Xinyan asked almost afraid of your answer

“I told the ghost if I find my shit all over the place, I’ma slap the shit out it.”

Xinyan and Childe looked at you like you were crazy (which has some truth to it to be doing what you’re doing)

“What…” Childe said in disbelief and horror

“The other night when it was screaming I took my bat and swung around, and I connected with something fleshy a few times so I knows I’m serious.”

Your two friends shared glances at each other, not sure if they should call a priest or a psychiatrist for you

The next day you were visited by Xinyan and Childe. You greeted them and saw how the smiles on their faces quickly turned into looks of pure horror

Your walls has messages written all over it such as: bitch ghost, suck my dick ghost fucker and a lot more they don’t want to repeat

“Please don’t mind the mess.” You lead them in with a smile

How can you still smile when in a situation like this?!

Xinyan puts the container full of cookies on your coffee table and noticed a book with multiple pages torn from it

“Ermm, what’s this book here and why are there pages missing?” The rocker asked hesitantly

“It’s a book about demons, I’ve been blowing my nose and wiping my ass with the pages.” You explained nonchalantly

Yeah, definitely a psychiatrist

Before the two can express their concerns high pitched screaming filled the apartment

Childe tries to shield Xinyan with his body while you went and grabbed your trusty bat

“Showing your ass, now that there’s people here?!?!” You yelled as you looked for a shadowy figure to hit

Not seeing one you opted to start hitting the wall, the screaming got more intense, you didn’t know if was Xinyan and Childe screaming at you, or the ghost, or both. You didn’t care so you kept making holes in the wall

“Oh my god! Stop! Stop!!!” A disembodied voice shrieked

A short man with indigo hair and blue eyes materialized in front of you

Xinyan started screaming uncontrollably and you smashed a hole in the wall, making a pre-existenting hole bigger

“Don’t scream! You’re giving this musty fucker more power!” You yelled as you try to undo what Xinyan did by making another hole

“Don’t make anymore holes in the wall! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The ghost exclaimed

“You’re attached to this apartment?” You asked

“Yeah, jackass! Why would I be haunting you if I didn’t have an attachment to this place?! So stop destroying it!!”

“Why should I? You’re just going to keep being a dickhead!” You asked while readying your bat

“I promise I won’t haunt you anymore! The screaming, the flickering lights, all that, just stop!”

You lowered your bat and turned towards your neglected guests

“You guys hungry?”

The ghost stayed true to his word, he didn’t cause you any problems. In a sense you have a roommate who’s a ghost. He seems cool, a bit of an asshole, but he gets quiet real quick when you reach for the bat. Other than that he’s a good friend you learned his name, Scaramouche, but you just call him Scara for short

Xinyan and Childe still can’t believe you scared a ghost so much to the point the ghost had to tell you to stop. They’ve gotten used to him though, you four even come together to play games and watch moves. And that’s how you got the nickname “Ghost Puncher”

#genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #don’t take this too seriously

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cabin-12-resident-daddy-issues · 8 days

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Here

BEFORE YOU READ: This is not canon (yet), so do not respond in character! This is entirely self indulgent, and while I was trying to write another angsty piece, this ended up overtaking it.

It’d been years since Marjorie left Camp.

The truth had come out, she’d tried to kill herself, and then decided to evaporate. Told herself she’d come back when she felt like herself again.

Her and Sage set out to fix things.

She was doing well, going to school to become a history major, living in a studio apartment with her girlfriend, and was medicated. By all means, she should’ve gone back to camp.

But she didn’t feel like herself, not entirely. There was one thing intrinsically missing.

CJ. Her older brother. She wanted her brother, her only brother, as far as she was aware. Pollux, Castor, and Jax probably disowned her, which was fair, she supposed, she was a lieutenant in the Titan Army.

Sighing, she got up from her and Sage’s bed, Sage had left for Camp, she always went back for summer. Marjorie admired that particular strength.

Flicking on the light, she mutters “Let there be light, I guess.”

Wake up, bathroom, meds, breakfast, get dressed, grab bag, grab keys, and get her ass to work.

That was her morning routine.

The museum paid fairly well, enough for Marjorie to cover rent for the summer months on her own and not worry about food. It was entertaining, too, to walk through the different exhibits.

She avoided the ancient civilizations exhibit like the fucking plague, though. Too difficult, too many memories, too many references to her mistakes-

“In and Out, Marjorie.” She reminds herself.

It’s moments like these she thinks about relapsing. She’d been sober since she left, had to be, her meds didn’t allow her to drink, or smoke, or do anything she used to.

The cost of being healthy, she supposed.

Work flew by, it was easy, mindless work.

She pulled into the allotted parking spot, confused by a really, really shitty 70’s Ford Pinto in the spot next to hers.

“The fuck?” She mutters to herself.

She shakes her head, getting out of her car and walking to her apartment.

Get home, drop off keys and bag, grab a Coke, say hi to CJ-

Wait-

What!?

Marjorie snaps her head up, staring at CJ’s amused smirk, before checking if she took her meds today.

“You took them.”

“Then I need to up my dosage.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m hallucinating my godsdamn older brother!?”

“You’re not hallucinating.”

“I gotta be! You, the real you, hates me.”

“You really think that?”

“Yup. I mean obviously, I betrayed camp, hid it from everyone, tried to off myself multiple times, and then just dipped. If he still loves me after all that, he is a godsdamn fool.”

“.......Marj.”

“What? It’s tru-”

He’s hugging her before she can finish the sentence, and before she realizes, she’s crying like a fucking baby.

Her older brother was here, he was here and he was hugging her and saying something she can’t quite hear, but he was here.

CJ was here, and he didn’t hate her, although it was an objectively dumb thing to do.

Things would be okay now, because her big brother was here.

@likeapriceless-wine

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ahonice · 1 year

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Until Now

Cale Makar x Reader x Tyson Jost

Warnings: drinking, toxic relationships, some sexual scenes but no actual smut (ok maybe a little smut, depends on what you define it as).

WC: 11k (got a little carried away sorry babes)

*Some things might not actually match up to the real life timeline and something just straight up never happened, this is a work of fiction.*

*March 15th 2022*

“I don’t understand why you’re getting so upset.”

That phrase only made you more upset. Tyson had just found out he was being traded a couple hours before and he immediately began packing his things, and yours.

“Tyson I cannot just pick up my life and move across the country. My friends are here, my family is here, I have a job that I love here, I am not leaving.”

“If any of the other guys were traded their partners wouldn’t have to think twice about going with them. Why do you have to be so difficult? Quit your job, I can provide for the two of us, and we can come back to visit during the holidays. All I want is my girlfriend and for us to be there for each other.”

“No, what you want is a trophy wife and I will not be that. This is over Tyson, thanks for the headstart on packing my shit. I’ll be back in the morning to get all my stuff.”

***

You had plenty of options of where to stay overnight, plenty of them having no ties with Tyson or any of the Avalanche players for that matter, but you still found yourself at Cale’s front door. After knocking and getting no answer you began heading towards the stairwell but the sound of a door opening stopped you.

“Y/n? What are you doing here? It's late, come in.”

“He is getting traded.”

“I know, it’s so unfortunate, I’m gonna miss him.”

Cale didn’t just assume you were leaving your life in Colorado behind, you appreciated that.

“We broke up. He wanted me to just drop everything and follow him like I’m some sad little puppy who can’t function without its owner.”

“Oh. Well, do you need somewhere to stay tonight?”

Yes. “No. Just wanted a friend to talk to, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do now.”

And that is what Cale was that night, a friend for you to talk to, as well as a friend who did not let you leave once the both of you realized it was almost 3am and gave you his guest bed to sleep on.

***

You had called out of work on your way to Cale’s last night knowing you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to teach rambunctious high school students about whichever history course of yours they were enrolled into.

Walking out of the guest room you were met with an empty apartment, which was to be expected as the Avalanche had a practice scheduled at this time. I cleaned up any mess I made in the guest bedroom and tidied up around the living room, texting Cale a thank you for everything before slipping out of his apartment and heading over to yours.

***

“Where did you go last night? None of your friends could tell me where you were, I was worried sick.”

The first words to come out of Tyson’s mouth upset you more than they probably should’ve.

“I’m not yours to worry about anymore Tyson.”

You walked towards the bedroom without another word, more rage blinded you as you saw all of your things Tyson had previously packed now out of their boxes and put back where they used to belong.

Before you were able to yell out towards your ex you felt a presence at the door.

“I’m not breaking the lease, this is where you live too. I’m not just gonna leave you with nowhere to stay, I’m not that cruel.”

“I can’t afford this place by myself, you know that.”

It was true, while you loved your job, you were still a public school teacher in a very underfunded school district. Tyson always offered to just cover all of the rent, but ended up settling for a 70/30 split rent, you insisted on helping out even if it was the smallest amount of money.

“I know, I paid for the next three months in advance. If you plan on moving out please just wait three months, I know you don’t like money wasted.”

“Tyson, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He trailed off realizing the time. “I should go, I have a flight to catch.”

You nodded, sniffling. You don’t know when you teared up, but they were now clouding your vision.

“Baby, please don’t cry. I know we aren’t together anymore, but I don’t want to lose contact with you. Please reach out to me, I know I will reach out to you.”

“What about Cleo?”

Cleo, the cat you two had together, had never been Tyson’s biggest fan. You liked to blame it on her not liking men, but Tyson always fired back with a “She loves Cale.” That was true, she loved Cale, probably more than she loved you.

“She can stay here with you, she would probably run away if I took her.”

You laughed at his statement.

“She would miss Cale too much anyways. “ You joked. “Thank you.”

“Of course, you know she loves you more than me.”

“No Tys, thank you for everything. These past three years have been amazing, I love you.”

“I love you too Y/n.” His phone ringing interrupted him. “I really need to go, my uber is here. Don’t be a stranger Y/n, I expect to be hearing from you.”

***

*April 11th 2022*

Tyson definitely reached out more than you did, but he still got the occasional message from you with an update on Cleo or something that happened to you during work that day. He did get a picture of you in the jersey he sent just days after he moved out, the green material and the number 10 feeling foreign on you, having never worn anything with “JOST” on it that wasn’t navy or maroon.

Almost a month later you sat in your apartment watching the Wild game, wearing Tyson’s jersey cuddled up with Cleo, who you had somehow gotten to wear the Wild bandana Tyson sent a few days ago, sending him a selfie of the two of you with a text message right after saying, “Rooting from you, Cleo isn’t suffering in that bandana for you to lose the game!”

A knock on your door interrupted the trance you had been in while watching the game, your first plan to ignore whoever was at your door was abandoned as the person continued knocking, now almost banging on the door.

You cautiously opened the door, immediately fearing who or what could be behind that door.

“Hey.”

It was Cale.

“Hey Cale, what’s up.”

“I haven’t seen you in a while, just wanted to check in. You’ve been ignoring my messages and calls, I know because you’ve been ignoring everyone else.”

He has a right to sound as upset as he is. Cale, as well as all the rest of the Avalanche roster and their partners, have been given the cold shoulder ever since Tyson moved, but after almost two weeks of radio silence they had all seemed to give up, all but Cale.

“Look Cale I’m really sorry but I just couldn’t bring myself to be around his friends. Everything reminds me of him.”

“Is that why you’re wearing his jersey right now? To help get him off your mind?”

“Cale–”

The Canadian wouldn’t let you finish what you were gonna say.

“I’m taking you out to eat, I know you’re hungry. Go change.”

Cale always knew how to read you because you were starving. He made his way inside, shutting the door behind him and immediately making his way towards Cleo who was still laying on the couch. He pet her, quickly pulling off the Wild bandana she wore and making a mental note to buy her an Avalanche one.

“I can tell she has missed you. If you were anyone else she would be in my bedroom hiding.” You spoke, walking out of the bathroom is an old hoodie rather than Tyson’s jersey you were wearing just moments prior.

“I missed her too, did Tyson not want her?”

“No, he knows she doesn’t like him, she doesn’t like any men.” You spoke with a chuckle.

“She likes me.”

“That’s because you’re special Cale.”

He blushed as the two of you walked out, not even realizing you forgot your phone on the coffee table in the living room. A text from Tyson lighting up your phone reading, “I miss my girls, when I’m in Denver next can we meet for dinner?”

***

“There is no way that actually happened.” Cale laughed, nearly choking on his coffee.

He had taken you to Waffle House as that was the only open that sounded somewhat appetizing, you had arrived nearly two hours before, the two of you getting lost in the conversation talking about anything and everything, which was now leading to the senior prank that was pulled last year.

“I swear, they took the tires off of the principal's car and placed them in the trophy display case.”

“That is so funny, did they get in trouble?”

“Oh yea, they were suspended and weren’t allowed to walk at graduation, but I think it was worth it. It was hilarious.”

Soon the laughter faded out into a comfortable silence.

“We should probably head back, it’s almost 9pm. I’ve got work in the morning.” You said, even though you never wanted this night to end.

***

Cale walked you up to your front door, claiming he wanted to see Cleo one more time.

“You know you can come see her whenever you want to? I’ll unmute your contact info, I was wrong to try and ignore you.”

“You had your reasons, but yes please do that. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You trailed off not knowing what to do, the tension in the air feeling all but friendly. Luckily the sound of your phone ringing cut through it, you quickly shuffled to where you had left your phone hours before. The screen lighting up with the name “Tyson 🤍” you never brought yourself to change his contact name.

“It’s Tyson, tonight has been very fun. We should do it again soon, just message me whenever you're free.” Cale nodded, a quiet “Goodbye.” leaving his lips as he walked out the door.

You answered the phone, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

“Hey Tyson.”

“Where were you?”

“Tys–”

“No! You haven’t answered me in hours, i know you couldn’t have been sleeping because you keep your ringer one so where were you? Are you okay?”

His last question did not match his angry tone at all.

“I was out with a friend and I left my phone in the apartment. Tyson you have no right to yell at me like that.”

“Y/n I was worried, am I not allowed to be worried about my girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend. Tyson, if I have to remind you that we are broken up one more time I don’t think I can play along with this whole “friends” act. I am not yours to worry about anymore.”

“Fine.”

“Tyson please stop messaging me, it is for the best. We both need to move on, our relationship is over and there is nothing we can do to fix it. Agreeing to stay friends was a big mistake.”

“There is something that we can do to fix our relationship, you can come move out here with me. I still love you Y/n and I know you still love me. Leave your job, I found a private school twenty minutes away from the arena that needs teachers.”

“Would you just stop it Tyson! We are over. I'm not leaving my life in Denver, I am done having this conversation with you. Goodbye Tyson, please stop contacting me.”

“Wait no Y/n please–”

You hung up before Tyson could finish his sentence.

***

The next day Tyson would not stop calling you, during the school day you had to turn your phone completely off because “do not disturb” wasn’t even helping. By the time you arrived back at your apartment you’d had enough.

“Enough Tyson! I told you to leave me alone I’m blocking you–”

“Woah put the claws away, it’s just me.”

Cale.

“Oh I’m sorry Cale, I thought Tyson was calling me again.”

“Is he bothering you? Because I can talk to him for you.”

“No Cale it’s nothing you want to get involved in I promise.”

“Do you wanna meet for a late dinner after my game is over?”

“Yea I’d love to, good luck tonight by the way.”

You could hear his smile over the phone as he suggested you wear one of his jerseys tonight.

“--and put Cleo in that new Avalanche bandana I sent you.”

“Will do Cale, but I should probably go. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye Y/n,”

***

The knock on your door pulled you out of your trance, quickly lowering the volume on your speaker as you walked towards the door to answer it.

“Hey Cale, you can come in, just give me a second to change and grab my shoes.”

“Ok, take your time.” His breathing stopped as he saw you turn around, his name and number branded on your back. He quickly walked towards the couch to take a seat, noting what songs were playing over your speakers so he could play it in the car.

“What artist is this?” He asks as you walk out of your bedroom, still in his jersey, but in jeans instead of the sleep shorts you were wearing when you answered the door.

“Harry Styles, he is one of my favorite singers ever.”

“Oh yea the one from that band, you went to see him in concert last year?”

You found it sweet that he remembered. Tyson had joined you at the concert but couldn’t even bother to learn the name of the artist, who you so lovingly adore.

“Yea I did, it was one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to. I’ve been listening to him since he was in One Direction and I just love his music so much. I’ve begun collecting his merch, and I think I’m gonna start collecting his records. I don’t even have a record player though.” You looked up trying to catch your breath, “Sorry I didn’t mean to ramble, I don’t mean to annoy you.” You spoke looking down again, a blush forming on your cheeks.

Cale gently grabbed your chin, making me look up at him, “You don’t need to be sorry, I don’t think you realize how adorable it is when you’re talking about something you love.”

“Be careful, if someone else heard you say that they might think you’re flirting with me.” You chuckled out.

“Well they would be correct.” Cale paused for a moment “We should go, I don’t know how busy Waffle House is going to be right now.” He finished while walking out your door leaving you standing in your living room too stunned to move.

“Did he actually just say that?”

“Yes I did, can we go now? I’m hungry.”

***

“Is everything ok? You’ve been silent all night.” Cale said. It was true, but he had just dropped a bomb on you.

“Did you mean what you said? That you were flirting with me? Do you actually not find it annoying when I talk? Because if you’re just here to pity me because of Tyson then just leave.” You blurted out, immediately embarrassed by your short rant.

“No Y/n, not at all. Nothing you could do would ever annoy me. Did Tyson ever make you feel that way? Because I will beat him up.”

“Cale, please, stop. Let's just forget about it, I don’t like talking about it.”

“Ok, but please eat your food before I do. Somehow I’m still very hungry.

***

“Cale, we should probably head back, it’s almost 1am.”

“Oh my goodness I didn’t even realize how late it was getting, I just lose track of time when I’m with you.” Cale spoke while standing up and gathering his things, “-And I don’t mean that in a bad way, I really enjoy spending time with you.”

“Thank you Cale, I appreciate you.” You said while following his actions. “I don’t think you realize how good it feels to hear those words, especially when the person saying them is being genuine.”

***

Cale knew there was something off about your relationship with Tyson, even before he had moved to Minnesota. The way you responded to compliments and criticisms spoke enough on how poorly Tyson had treated you, he wanted to make that right. He wanted you to accept compliments without arguing, and he wanted you to know that no criticism that was thrown your way would change the way he felt about you. Cale wanted you, he always had ever since the night he met you almost three years ago, the same night you met Tyson.

*May 9th 2019*

The Avalanche decided to celebrate their season coming to an end at a club in downtown Denver. That club just so happened to be where you were working as a bartender, the job you had while in college.

“We better be making good tips tonight, these guys make like one million dollars a year.”

“Don’t be a bitch and that won’t be an issue.” You spoke laughing at your friend, Callie’s, reaction.

“Put your tits away Y/n.” She fires back while walking away to her side of the bar. You laugh while you finish preparing your side of the bar.

Soon enough it was time for the team to come up to the private floor, you had no idea how they would act. Would they be respectful? Would they be creepy? Either way you need to get those tips, college is expensive.

“Y/n if you pull your tits out anymore i think you would flash them.” Callie said, fake judging you.

“I need money, and your ass is out Callie.”

“I also need money.” The two of you laughed but were quickly silenced by the sound of footsteps outside the door.

Your coworker led them inside and they all took seats, some at booths and some at the bar. You immediately began taking orders and working on drinks, trying to get everything done as quickly as possible as to have a little down time before the next rush of orders came through. After about 15 minutes the bar had died down and you were able to start talking, more gossiping than anything, with Callie.

“That blonde with the red cheeks has not stopped staring at you, like not once has he even blinked.” Callie told you, not bothering to be quiet because no one was around, or so you had thought.

“I have also not taken my eyes off of you since I got here.”

You and Callie quickly turned around to see a boy with curly brown hair.

“I’m Tyson by the way and you are?” Tyson gestured over towards you, making sure you knew who he was talking about.

“I’m Y/n.”

“And I’m Callie, not that either of you are acknowledging my existence right now.”

You giggled and apologized about your friend before falling into conversation with Tyson.

“So you aren’t old enough to drink, but you are old enough to be a bartender? How does that make sense.”

“You have to be 18 to serve alcohol, 21 to drink alcohol. It’s just how this country works, you’re gonna have to get used to it Canada.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, well yeah I actually do, but Y/n you have a job to do that isn’t flirting with Tyson here.” Callie chimed in, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

“I am sorry but she is right, I have to get back to work. It was very nice meeting you though.” Tyson gave you a smile before you turned to take orders and make drinks for his teammates.

As you were making a drink someone sat down in the stool in front of you, the blonde Callie pointed out earlier who “hadn’t taken his eyes off you”.

“Hey can I get you anything?” You asked, setting the whiskey sour down for the man who had ordered it.

“Do you have apple juice?” The blonde asked.

“I believe we do, would you like that with vodka? Or what do you want?” You asked back, a little confused because that wasn’t a question you were asked before.

“No, can I have just apple juice? I’m not old enough to drink and water is boring.” He said avoiding eye contact with you.

“Of course, just give me a second to find it.” You responded while looking around the bar for the bottle of apple juice. Handing the cup to him after you finished pouring it, he began asking about you and why you’re working as a bartender.

“Well I’m actually a student at The University of Denver and I work here for money to pay off my loan debt.” You told him. “I am a few days away from finishing my second year of school, so don’t worry about ordering apple juice, I would also have to order that if I were on the other side of this bar. I’m only 19.”

“You aren’t allowed to drink alcohol, but you can make and serve alcoholic drinks? How does that make sense?” He asked you, almost baffled at the news you just told him.

“It confused me too Cale–” Another voice cut in, Tyson took the seat next to the boy who you have now been able to place a name on, Cale. “-Hello Y/n, it is nice to see you again. I was worried my teammates would steal you away from me for the rest of the night.”

“Well they couldn’t even if they tried cause you would just interrupt them anyways.” You chirped at him, making it obvious that he just walked in on a conversation that you were really enjoying.

“Alright well I was just gonna order another drink, and also was hoping to talk to you some more. Would it be ok if I joined in on you and Cale’s conversation Y/n?” He asked in a tone, knowing what your answer would be.

“What would you like to drink Tyson?”

***

“Come on boys, they're closing.” A blonde man came up to grab both Cale and Tyson’s shoulders. They quickly nodded their heads towards the guy grinning at you with some of his teeth missing. Cale opened his mouth to say something, but Tyson had beat him to it.

“Can I get your number Y/n? I wanna take you out sometime.” A blush rose to your cheeks, you weren’t blind he was attractive and you would actually be stupid if you didn’t give it to him. So that’s what you did, not noticing the defeated look on Cale’s face. Tyson beat him by asking you out, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be your friend.

*May 2nd, 2022*

The first round of playoffs began tonight and you could tell Cale was nervous, but so were you. Not only for your friend, who so deserved to win the cup, but also at the fact that this was the first Avalanche game you would be attending since you and Tyson broke up as well as the first time you would even be speaking and seeing the other players and partners.

“Why don’t you wear my jersey tonight? I know you aren’t wearing your jacket so you’ll need something to wear.” Cale suggested, walking into your apartment already knowing you were struggling to pick out an outfit without even walking into your room. What he didn’t know was that you had your headphones on so you didn’t hear him come in or speak to you, Cale also didn’t know that you were only dressed in your underwear while rummaging through your closet. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as a crimson color crept up to his cheeks, sure he has seen you in a swimsuit before, but this was just different. He quickly turned around and tried to make his way out of your room unnoticed, tried to. He ran into your bedside table while walking out, causing your lamp to tumble over, and making you jump in reaction. Quickly whipping your head around and saw a very red Cale looking at the blue lace that covered your intimates, rubbing his neck in shame.

“Oh Cale, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in.”

He was surprised at your tone, why weren’t you the littlest shocked at him seeing you basically naked, did you want him to see you like that? Were you into him like he was into you? He cut his own thoughts off.

“I’m so sorry, um I’ll just be in the living room waiting.” He spoke before basically running out of your room. You found it adorable how flustered he got, it was just some skin you didn’t really see the big deal.

You quickly got dressed in one of Cale’s jerseys and some black leather pants. Putting on some accessories and your signature perfume before walking into the living room and bending over to put on your booties, catching Cale staring at you once again.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to Cale, you always had been ever since the night you had met him. But nothing could ever happen, you were with Tyson, well you used to be. Cale was there for you whenever you needed it, he was everything you wanted in a partner. He was everything Tyson was and more. Maybe you did begin flirting with Cale a bit more noticeably a few weeks after the break up, but could anyone blame you it's Cale fucking Makar.

“Ready to go?” you asked, turning to face him. He nodded in response quickly getting up, you could finally get a good look at his game day suit and god did he look good. Hiding the crush you had on him was getting harder and harder every moment.

***

“Y/n! Ugh I have missed you so much!” Mel was quick to greet you once you stepped into the friends and family box. You had no idea how everyone would react to you attending an Avalanche game not as Tyson’s girlfriend, but as Cale’s friend.

“Hey Mel, sorry I haven’t been in contact–” The captain's wife was quick to shut down your apologies.

“Don’t. I know it couldn’t have been easy to constantly surround yourself with things that remind you of him. I was a little surprised when Cale told us that you guys had been spending all your time together.”

“Yea he has been a great support system for me, it feels nice to be friends with him again.”

It was known that after your relationship with Tyson had become something more serious, moving in together and getting a cat, that you and Cale had drifted apart from one another. He was your closest friend, you would’ve even considered him your best friend, but Tyson wasn’t a fan of the two of you. He claimed that he didn’t trust Cale because he had ulterior motives and didn’t just want to be your friend.

“You’re not dating? Oh I’m sorry Gabe mentioned that you and Cale had been going on dates, I just assumed.” Your eyes widened at not only the assumption, but also at the bedazzled jean jacket with Cale’s name and number on it that was brought for you. You just shook your head at Mel’s apologies and took the jacket from her. “Maybe I’ll wear it to the next playoff game.” You told her with a fake smile on your face. Had you and Cale actually been going on dates without even realizing it? Did Cale think you were going on dates and you were the one in the dark about it?

***

You continued to attend all of the playoff games that took place in Denver and by the end of the first round it felt like you had never lost contact with everyone. They were kind enough to never mention Tyson in front of you, knowing it was still a hot topic and you appreciated that a lot more than they could ever know. You had to have Mel and Sydney stop you from texting Tyson, apologizing for the loss but also congratulating him on finishing the season with the Wild.

With Cale being so busy you haven't been able to hang out with each other, but you’re still texting and calling whenever the both of you are available. Tonight was the first game of the second round and you were trying to figure out what to wear and that damn jean jacket was just staring at you from its spot in your closet.

“It wouldn’t be horrible to wear it, I mean just because I’m wearing it doesn’t mean we’re together I’m just wearing a jacket, just like how I wear his jersey.” You spoke to yourself, an internal battle happening in your mind as you finally slipped the denim over your shoulders.

“Do you still have my jean jacket?” A voice that was all too familiar to you spoke from the entryway of your room. Tyson. “You know you should probably stop keeping the front door unlocked, who knows what kind of weirdo could just walk in.”

You slowly turned around, tears welling in your eyes as you looked at the man who you had loved so much. His hair was grown out and he wasn’t clean shaven anymore, he looked different.

“Tyson, what- um how- what are you doing here?” On any other occasion you would’ve been embarrassed by stumbling over your words but you were too shocked to care, the tears that had been settling in your eyes finally began falling as neither of you spoke, both keeping your eyes on each other scared that if you looked away that they would no longer be there.

His presence shouldn’t bother you this much, you shouldn’t allow him to bother you this much.

“My season is over, I wanted to come down to support the team. They’re still my friends even if we aren’t on the same roster anymore.” He answered while walking towards you, him just being centimeters away from you by the end of his statement.

“No, what are you doing here Tyson? Why are you in my apartment?” You ask softly, trying to hide yourself from him. You didn’t want Tyson to see you in such a vulnerable state.

Tyson reaches up to gently grab your face, his thumbs wiping your tears away as he leans into your lips. As much as you wanted to fight him, and to not let him kiss you, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling into the kiss and wrapping my hands around him, managing to bring him closer to you. The kiss quickly deepens as you walk back towards your bed.

“I’ve missed you.” Tyson spoke in between kisses. His hands began roaming your body, but stopping as he touched the jewels that spelt out “MAKAR” on your back.

“I need you to take his name off of your back.” Tyson said, the jealousy was apparent in his voice.

Tyson knew that Cale always had a thing for you, he was horrible at hiding it. Tyson was never the biggest fan of you being friends with Cale, he didn’t trust the younger Canadian knowing that Cale had been in love with you since you met the both of them that night in May, Tyson had been too.

“Tyson, we need to stop this.” you said, pulling away from him. His lips chasing yours before letting out a sigh.

“Why? I am off of work all summer and so are you? Please can we just be together again? Be us again? I miss you so fucking much and I don’t know if I can keep doing this without you by my side. It was horrible after we broke up, I cannot function without you. Please Y/n, at least just consider going on a date with me? I’m in Denver for the next month and a half, I’m staying at a hotel.” Tyson rambled as you considered his words, you were doing horrible as well nothing Cale or any of your other friends could do or say was able to fully close up the hole in your heart that Tyson left you with.

“You can stay here, there is a guest room. No need for you to pay for a hotel room.” You whispered, shocking yourself with the offer. Him staying with you for almost two months would probably be one of the worst mistakes in your life, but you didn’t want him staying in a hotel, you knew how much he hated them.

“Y/n thank you, I hate-” Tyson started. “Staying in hotels. I know.” You finished.

“Can we skip the game please, go get some dinner and talk about everything. I think that is what we need, to just go over everything that happened and how we are feeling.” Tyson suggested to you, a little nervous that you would say no.

Your heart spoke before your brain could, “Yea I think that would be what’s best for us moving forward.”

***

You quickly changed into a dress and some heels, Tyson changing into a dress shirt and slacks. He had made reservations for the two of you at your favorite Italian place before he had even got to your apartment because he knew you would say yes, you hated him for knowing you so well. You walked out after putting your favorite earrings on, the ones you haven’t worn since the last date you had gone on with Tyson.

“You’re wearing my earrings.” Tyson muttered so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

“They’re beautiful Tyson, of course I’m going to wear them. You also put a lot of thought into the gift, they mean a lot to me.” You were fully aware that Cale had gone out and bought your anniversary gift for Tyson because he had no idea what to get you, and Cale had seen you eyeing that pair of earrings every time you went window shopping with him, he even saw the tabs open on your computer once, one of them being the link to the online shop that sold those earrings. They were all you could’ve ever wanted as a gift, and Tyson didn’t even know that.

“We should get going before we miss our reservations” He said standing up, ending the slight stare down the two of you were having, you wanted him to admit he didn’t get you those earrings but he never would. That was the biggest issue, your relationship was built on lies.

***

“Please be my girlfriend again”

Tyson didn’t even wait for the hostess who showed you to your table to leave before speaking.

“Tyson–”

“Y/n I have been so miserable since you left me, I’m not eating, I’m not sleeping, my game has been complete shit. Without you I am nothing, I need you back. I fucked up, I know that, but please if you just give me a second chance I will be the loving boyfriend that you deserve. Please Y/n.” He pleaded, tears building up in his eyes.

“Tyson, can we please just treat this like a normal date and discuss our future in private.” He nodded as you both quickly shoved your heads into the menu, even though you both knew what you would be getting already.

***

Dinner was filled with the two of you catching up, you telling him about the things you have been up to since he moved and him telling you about Minnesota and the team.

“Did you stay close with any of the players or their partners?” Tyson asked after your stories had stopped being shared.

“No, the only one I talked to and saw on a regular basis was Cale. I kind of shut everyone out except for him after we broke up, but I’ve started to go to games again. Which reminds me I need to inform them that I’m alive and just missing the game tonight.” You said while pulling your phone out to see a few texts already.

From: Mel🏒❤️

Hey! Just wondering if you were dead or not lol.

From: Mel🏒❤️

I’m gonna assume you’re not coming tonight, hope everything is ok. Text me when you can.

From: Mel🏒❤️

Text Cale too. He is worried.

From: Makar🥰

Hey Y/n after the game tonight could you go down to the tunnels with Mel and Syd? I want to talk to you.

From: Makar🥰

Mel just told me you aren’t up in the box with them, are you gonna be late to the game?

From: Makar🥰

Is everything alright Y/n? It isn’t like you to ignore messages.

From: Makar🥰

Text me whenever you see this so I know you’re ok, I’m going out onto the ice now, I hope you’re watching from wherever you are.

You quickly typed a response to Mel’s texts.

To: Mel🏒❤️

Hey I’m alive. Tyson is in town, came by my apartment and now we’re at dinner discussing everything. Tell the girls I’m sorry I couldn’t make it and if Cale asks anything do not mention Tyson please, just tell him I’m sick and that I just needed rest.

From: Mel🏒❤️

Oh shit.

You chuckled lightly at the text before going into your conversation with Cale.

To: Makar🥰

I am so sorry Cale but I woke up super sick this morning and needed some rest, sorry I didn’t text earlier I’ve been sleeping all day. Good job on the game today! Cleo and I were rooting for you the whole time!❤️❤️

You sent the text congratulating him on the game even though it was only the 1st period, he probably wasn’t going to see it until after the game had ended.

“Everything ok?” Your head shot up, having forgotten about the real reason why you were not in attendance at the game the voice of your ex startled you.

“Yea I just had to text Mel quickly, what were we talking about?” You asked, placing your phone in your purse.

“How you just began attending Avalanche games recently.” He answered.

“Oh yea, I felt a bit awkward going after we broke up but Cale convinced me to go for the playoff games. The girls have been super nice about everything. I was scared they would hate me for having cut off our communication with them, but they said they understood why I did it.” You explained while playing with your food, a habit you displayed when you were nervous.

“So how is Cale?” Tyson's question shouldn’t have shocked you as much as it did.

“Oh um he is great. He has had an amazing season, hasn’t he been texting you bragging about everything he has accomplished?” You didn’t know if you should tell Tyson about how close the two of you had become in the two months he has been gone, afraid of his reaction.

“Well he has blocked my number and all of my socials so the only updates I get on him are through the boys, but they usually just talk about the two of you when I ask about him. They say that the two of you have been going on dates and spend every night together, and that he asked for a playoff jacket to be made for you with his name and number on it. Is there something you’re not telling me Y/n?”

With Tyson there is no trust, he gets extremely jealous and once he has the thought of you being with someone else he fixates on it and sees the guy as a threat. You would say his only threat is Cale.

“Tyson, nothing is going on with me and Cale. We’re just friends, if you can’t trust me then why should I bother attempting to rekindle our relationship if you can’t trust me and my best friend.” You spoke, frustration clear in your tone. You could tell that you were making those around you uncomfortable so you proposed that the two of you pay the check and continue your conversation in a more private place, or just somewhere that wasn’t filled with happy couples.

***

“Are you sure nothing happened between you and Cale while I was gone.” Tyson asked for what felt like the 100th time, but it was probably just the third or fourth.

“Yes Tyson, for the last time nothing happened between us and nothing is happening between us right now. But if anything did happen you aren’t allowed to be upset, we are broken up. I can do and see whoever I want and so can you.” You basically yelled at the boy who sat on your couch.

“I don’t want to be with just anyone, I want to be with you Y/n. Am I not making that clear enough because I think I’ve said that plenty of times tonight.” Tyson yelled back.

“Let's just calm down, I’m gonna go change, you can turn on the tv. Play the game or something.” You told him before turning to walk towards your bedroom.

Once you’ve entered the room to search for a shirt to wear over your spandex, you saw one of Tyson’s Wild shirts sitting on top of your bed. One of your favorite habits of his, he always left a shirt out for you to change into after a night out. Contemplating whether or not you should put it on or just find another shirt to wear, you decide to just put on Tyson’s shirt thinking you’ve hurt his feelings enough for one night.

Quickly putting some fuzzy socks on you walk out to the living room, freezing at the sight.

“I think she missed me.” Tyson was cuddled up with Cleo, she was wearing a jersey that had his number on it but the name said “DADDY” you were amazed at how he was able to get it on her as well as wondering where the hell he found a jersey that fits a cat.

“Please tell me you didn’t order a custom jersey for our cat.” You said trying to hide your laughter.

“I did, but don’t worry it's a jersey meant for a baby. I’m not that crazy to order a jersey made for a cat.” He responded, as Cleo went to lay on his chest.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” He gave you a fake glare before laughing and patting the spot next to him. “I can tell she misses you, I would find her cuddled up in your old dresser sometimes with some of the clothes you left here.” He smiled at that and situated himself and Cleo so that you could sit next to them.

“The avalanche game ended, they won, now it’s just playing the highlights.” He whispered to you, your bodies so close that a volume louder would cause a headache. You nodded and focused on the tv, well tried to focus. You and Tyson had broken up 2 months ago, which meant it had been 2 months since you had sex, and god were you frustrated. Sure you had a vibrator, but nothing was gonna beat actual sex, especially sex with Tyson. Thinking about it made it worse, so you shifted on the couch uncomfortably, crossing your legs to try and relieve some of the tension in your body, before looking at the TV, which was showing a compilation of Cale’s three goals, he got a fucking hat trick and you weren’t there to see it. You quickly picked up your phone to send a text to him.

To: Makar🥰

Congratulations on your hat trick tonight!! I cannot believe I missed it, I am so sorry. I’ll be there for your next one though 😁❤️

“What does he want?” Tyson asked, annoyed while looking at the contact in your phone.

“I’m just congratulating him on his hat trick tonight, and apologizing for not being able to attend the game.” You answered with a sigh, leaning over the couch and setting your phone down on the table in front of you. Which gave Tyson a very nice view of your ass. Was it a horrible idea to sleep with your ex while he is trying to win you back, or just in general? Absolutely, but you don't care, you just need to have a release. You stayed bent over, deciding to text Mel just to try and get Tyson a little riled up.

To: Mel🏒❤️

Girl I know this is a bad idea but I think I’m gonna sleep with Tyson😭

To: Mel🏒❤️

I haven’t had an orgasm in two months, seriously if he doesn’t fuck me I don’t know what I’m gonna do. Wish me luck!!

From: Mel🏒❤️

Get that dick babe!!

From: Mel🏒❤️

But seriously the second he leaves Denver I’m setting you up with someone. This has to be a one time thing, you’re better off without him.

You smiled at the messages before turning your phone on do not disturb and setting it down, missing a message from Cale.

From: Makar🥰

Hey Y/n, I’m coming over to your place. Hope it’s ok because I’m almost there.

From: Makar🥰

I’m bringing soup and tea, I assume you’re asleep so I’ll just let myself in.

Unaware that Cale was on his way you sat back down on the couch leaning your body onto Tyson’s. You hoped he would’ve picked up on your signals, but he just wrapped his arm around you and did nothing else.

“Tyson how many more signals am I gonna have to give you until you fuck me.” You whispered in his ear, and that was it.

His mouth instantly found yours, your tongues fighting for dominance as he grabs your hips to straddle his own.

Soon the clothes were coming off, Tyson was in just his boxers as you were only in Tyson’s Wild shirt. The marks being left on your neck made the shape of a T, one of Tyson’s favorite things to do during sex, it claimed you as his. He began lifting your shirt up, not all the way, but just enough to be able to latch his mouth onto your nipple. So caught up in the moment, your moans and his grunts caused by your bare core grinding against his clothed one, you didn’t hear your front door unlock and the sound of footsteps entering your apartment. You did however hear the sound of soup hitting the floor, you felt it too. You yelped, catching Tyson’s attention whose first instinct was to protect you. He quickly pushed you onto the couch and moved up to cover you, he still didn’t know who had entered your apartment.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” Cale yelled towards your ex, your eyes widened as you tried to find your shorts, or anything to cover your exposed bottom half.

“I could ask you the same thing Makar.” Tyson asks, getting angrier by the moment. Cale having a key to your apartment, bringing you things thinking you were sick, and being protective over you did not sit well in Tyson’s stomach. You had spent the whole night trying to convince Tyson that nothing was going on between you and Cale and now all that work was out the window.

“I knew it, I fucking knew there was something going on between you two. Y/n tried to tell me that nothing was happening but I’ve always known you loved her, you never got over her even after you lost her to me.” Tyson spoke venomously.

“Fuck you Tyson, and you Y/n–” Cale pointed at you. “I’m really disappointed in you. After all this time trying to get over him you just fell back into his trap. Was this your plan all along? To string me along and get my hopes up and then break my heart, because if so you accomplished it. Whore.” That's when Tyson swung and tears welled in your eyes. Cale regained his balance as a face of guilt washed over him, but he left before you could say anything to him or he could say anything to you.

You quickly got up finding your spandex and put them on before running out the front door to chase after Cale.

“Where are you going? Are you seriously chasing after him? He just called you a whore.” Tyson yelled as you made your way to the hallway.

“He’s my best friend.” you whispered back towards him, not even thinking he had heard it, but Tyson nodded at you as a way to tell you to go after him.

***

Luckily Cale lived in the same building as you so all you had to do was go up the stairwell to get his floor, but he had some leg and speed advantage on you, as well as a head start because you couldn’t get your damn shorts on, so Cale’s door was shut.

“Cale open the door.” You said while knocking, more like pounding, on the door. “-Please.” You were met with silence as you continued to beg to be let in. Eventually your legs got tired and you began sliding your back down the door, the tears you had been holding back finally slipping free as you lost control of your breathing.

“Cale, please.” Your voice was barely there, he wouldn’t be able to hear you unless he was at the other side of the door. “I’m so sorry.” Even if Cale was on the other side of the door your weeps were enough to make the words coming out of your mouth sound like a foreign language.

You continued to cry until you heard the door to the stairwell open.

“Come on Y/n, we have to go. You need to go to bed.” Tyson tried to coax you into coming back to your apartment but you weren’t having it.

“NO TYSON-” you shouted. “-I fucked up ok. I need to make it right, he is my best friend and I cannot leave or go to sleep until I have talked to him.” Your words grew quieter as a new wave of tears washed over you.

“Baby…” he trailed off before walking over to you, “Let's go Y/n. He doesn’t wanna talk to you right now, you can try again tomorrow. Just give him some space. Come on love, I’ve got you.” Tyson picked you up bridal style, too tired to care you wrapped your arms around his neck and snuggled into his chest, almost immediately falling asleep. Neither you or Tyson heard Cale’s door open or the faint “Y/n.” that left his lips.

***

“Wait so Cale walked in on you and Tyson doing it and called you a whore? What a fucking dick, why does he think he has the right to just enter your apartment and get upset at what he sees.” Mel exclaimed.

You had asked her to meet you for coffee so you could debrief what had happened the night before.

“Mel, I don’t think you’re focusing on the thing I want you to.” you sighed “he told me that I strung him along and broke his heart, do you think he likes me?”

“Sweetie, is the sky blue? Cale has liked you ever since the night he met you, that same night you met Tyson.” Mel said, laughing shortly after because of your reaction.

“I need to go, I need to talk to him.” You said rushing out the door.

“Good luck Y/n!” You sent a smile before sprinting to your apartment.

***

Luckily the coffee shop was less than a mile away from your complex so you got there quite quickly. Not wanting to deal with the shitty elevator you took the stairs, quickly regretting that decision by the time you got to the third floor, but nonetheless you still made it to his door in one piece, you just couldn’t breath. You quickly recollected yourself before knocking on Cale’s door.

“Cale, please open up, I need to talk to you.” You said hoping he could hear the desperation in your voice. He did.

His front door opened and you were met with the sight of your best friend who looked just as horrible as you did, possibly even worse. His eyes were red, his nose crusted, and his face puffy and glistening from tears. You would have laughed if the circumstances were different, but right now his appearance crushed you. You had a staring contest, neither of you moving or speaking, your breathing was even rigged. You broke the silence, “Can I come in?” he nodded in response, fully opening his door for you to walk in.

“Look Cale, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have slept with him, well we actually didn’t have sex last night we were just- nevermind, but still that doesn’t give you the right to call me a whore. That hurt Cale.” You said trying your hardest to get the tears out of your eyes.

“I know I’m sorry, that was way out of line, but you have to look at it through my eyes” Cale paused trying to figure out his next words carefully. “-Y/n, I’m in love with you. I have been for awhile, and seeing you with Tyson was horrible, but seeing you broken because of him was even worse. I really thought you were making progress, you were hanging out with the guys and their partners more, you seemed like you were finally you again and to see you just throw all of that out the window because Tyson showed up on your doorstep unannounced hurts the most. What were you thinking Y/n?”

“I wasn’t. Ok Cale, I wasn’t thinking. Tyson is back and he really wants to get back together with me and have me move out to Minnesota with him. He really wants me to be his again.”

“Do you want to be his again? Do you want to be anyone’s? Why can’t you just be your own person and not settle, not be ok with being claimed as an object by a guy who doesn’t even realize how good he has it with you? If you do move out there, what about your life in Denver? What about your friendships? What about your job? What about us? What about our relationship?”

“Cale you’ll always be my best friend, I’ll always lo–”

“NO DON’T SAY THAT! I don’t wanna be your best friend, I wanna be your boyfriend, your lover, the guy who is there for you no matter what, the guy who loves you no matter what. I want to be the one who lets you see how wonderful you are, to help you gain back that self confidence you lost to Tyson, I want you to see how much you deserve and I wanna give you that and more Y/n. I wanna marry you, I wanna give you your dream wedding, I know you’ve been planning it since you were young. I want to start a family with you, one boy and a girl. We'll name them those names you’ve had picked out since childhood, Dylan and Jane. I know you want Dylan to be older but you would be happy with twins as well. Y/n I want to give you the life you’ve always wanted, the one that you deserve, Y/n I–”

Cale was cut off by your lips, you had never even thought of spending the rest of your life with Cale, until now, sure you had thought he was cute and over the past couple of months you had gotten much closer with him, but you never had considered that he could be the one for you, until now.

The kiss was desperate on both sides. Cale had wanted to kiss you since the moment he saw you, he wanted to know what you tasted like, if you chewed mint or fruity gum, it was fruity, he wanted to know how you felt wrapped in his arms, he loved it. Pulling away he chased your lips before sighing to himself and letting his head fall onto your shoulder. You welcomed his embrace by wrapping your arms around his torso, staying like that for a while before he felt wetness on his hair and heard your sniffling.

“Hey, hey are you ok? What’s wrong?” Cale asked gently, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him.

“It’s just, ugh it’s stupid-”

“If it is making you cry it isn’t stupid.” Cale told you affirmatively before motioning you to continue.

“Those things you said to me about my future, well our future, were you just saying that or did you mean it?” You whispered, ducking your head to try and hide from him, hoping that wasn’t all just for show.

“Every word of it.”

You lifted your head to see Cale smiling softly at you, a blush spread across his cheeks.

“Was it too much? I didn’t mean to overbear you or anything, you just needed to know how I feel.”

“It was a lot, I’m gonna be honest–” you both let out a chuckle, “but it was amazing. That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, ever.” The blush on both of your cheeks were deepening as you began leaning in, letting your lips mold together once again.

***

It was a few hours later that Cale had to leave to go to the rink, time in between you first showing up and him having to leave was spent kissing, talking, baking cookies, and some more kissing.

“Will you be there tonight?” Cale asked while double checking he had everything in his bag.

“I don’t know, probably not. I’m telling Tyson that we’re officially over and that I’m not moving with him tonight and I already know that conversation isn’t going to go well.” You answered truthfully, not wanting him to get his hopes up too much.

“Ok.” Cale nodded, picking his bag up and heading out the door.

“I’m sorry. Good luck Makar, score a goal for me tonight.” He smiled as he walked out the door. You stayed on his couch a little while longer before heading out the door and walking up to your apartment.

***

“Tyson?” You shouted as you walked into your front door, “Are you in here?” You were met with silence, so you walked up to the guest room where he was staying and knocked on the door.

“Tyson?” You asked again, this time in a softer voice. You heard the sound of sniffling coming from the room and decided to enter.

“Tyson are you ok? What is wrong?” You asked, finding him curled up into a ball on the bed, tissues surrounding him.

“I’m getting traded. Again.” He weakly stated.

“Oh Tys…” You didn’t know what to say, what to do. He had just joined the Wild and they’re already having him pack his bags. “-where are they sending you now?”

“I have no idea, no one has picked me up yet. Why do they want me gone? I just started with them, am I that horrible at hockey?”

“No Tyson, don’t say that about yourself. This is what happens in sports, players get traded. You can’t let it affect your game, and your life as well, that’s what happened when you went to Minnesota.” You worried he would take your bluntness the wrong way.

“I know that, it just still hurts.” You hummed at his response, not knowing what else to say.

“Have you spoken to Cale yet? Or is he still ignoring you?” You instantly froze, how were you supposed to tell him that not only were you not moving back with Tyson, thus telling him you will not be getting back together with him, but also tell him that not only had you made up with Cale, you also made out with Cale.

“Yea, I actually just got back from his apartment. This is probably not the best timing but–”

“You’re not getting back together with me?”

“Tyson. I love you, I always will, but our relationship is not healthy. I need to put myself first, and I get how that might be selfish but I cannot put myself in a relationship that has made me feel unworthy of so much. I’m so sorry.” Now it was your turn to tear up.

“Y/n, I understand. I never thought you would actually come back to me. I’m sorry too, that our relationship made you feel like that, that I made you feel like that.”

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“You belong with Cale, I hope you know that. Obviously I wish that we could be together, but if it's not me it should be Cale. Last night I saw how much it affected you, him being upset with you, and seeing you sitting out there for so long made me realize that not once in our relationship did you fight that hard to make things right with me, I didn’t either. It hurts, but I understand that he means more to you than me, but I love you so much that I wanna see you happy, even if it’s not with me.``

You smiled at him, sitting up and wiping the last of your tears away.

“-but if things don’t end up going well with Cale I’ll always be here.” Tyson added in a jokingly flirting tone causing you to laugh.

You got up and instantly started getting ready, you were going to the game tonight and you were gonna wear your Makar jacket.

***

“Oh Y/n you made it!” Mel said enthusiastically when you entered the friends and family box. “How did it go this morning?” She added needing to know all the details.

“Really well…” You trailed off trying to quiet your voice down so those around don’t hear all of your business. “-we actually kissed, like a lot.”

“YOU GUYS KISSED?” Mel yelled, the opposite of the reaction you were hoping for.

“Shhh Mel come on dude.” You said moving your hands around trying to get her to understand how badly she needed to shut up. “Anyways, we kissed, and he confessed to me and told me all these sweet things like really sweet things that made me cry.” You told her, smiling at the memory of it.

“What kind of sweet things?” Mel asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Nothing like that you perv, but maybe I’ll tell you in the future.” You smiled towards your friend before you began paying attention to the game in front of you.

***

The Avalanche ended up winning their game in a shutout, 7-0 and letting them advance into the finals of the Stanley Cup, Cale also got a hat trick tonight. You followed Mel and the other family members towards the dressing rooms to meet up with the players.

You stood there leaned against the wall, nervously playing with your necklace. Gabe had exited the locker room a few minutes earlier and quickly took the attention of Mel, leaving you to your own devices while you wait for Cale, he still didn’t know you were here so you didn’t know how long it would take for him to exit the locker room.

From: Makar🥰

Hey! Game is over and I just finished up, about to head back to my place. I hope your conversation with Tyson went ok, and I hope I can see you again tonight. Maybe you can go up to my apartment and I’ll meet you there? I’ll pick up some food.

To: Makar🥰

Look up dummy.

Confused, Cale looked up from his phone and met your eyes. His face instantly turned into a smile before he quickly walked over to you and dropped his bags.

“Hey you-” but Cale didn’t let you finish your thought, he grabbed your face and brought his lips down to yours, ignoring the hollering and whistling from the players around him. It wasn’t until Gabe shouted out a “Get a room you two!” Did you guys part from each other.

“You made it. Did you see my goals.” He whispered, a blush coating his cheeks.

“I did, all three of them. Congrats honey.” You whispered back.

“Ugh you’re gonna drive me crazy with that name.” He groaned, his head leaning back.

“Well I don’t have to call you it then, I can just continue to call you Cale.” You teased.

“No no no, please continue to call me that. You’ll get a nickname of your own soon, I just have to find the perfect one. Babe? No, that doesn’t sound natural. Love?”

“Oh I like that one.” You giggled a blush reaching your face.

“Alright love, let's go, I am starving.” Cale said, picking his bags back up off the ground.

“You’re not even gonna acknowledge me wearing your playoff jacket? I’m offended Makar.” You quipped, purposefully walking in front of him so he could see his name and number branded on your back.

“Oh shit.” He said lowly, obviously flustered at the sight. “You look amazing, like really amazing. My last name looks pretty good on you, wanna take it forever?” He winked as you turned round to face him.

“One thing at a time Makar we aren’t even dating yet.” You said while walking up to his car.

“Well then will you be my girlfriend Y/n?”

“Of course.”

“Great, now will you marry me?”

“Shut up and drive before I walk home.”

*A/N y’all this is the longest thing i’ve ever written lmao. i hope y’all enjoyed it, i kinda just write things and hope they make sense because planning and proofreading a story is for suckers. but if anything doesn’t actually line up to what happened in real life then oh well it’s a work of fiction. HOPE Y’ALL HAVE A GREAT DAY*

#ahonice #cale makar #tyson jost #nhl imagine #cale makar imagine #tyson jost imagine #colorado avalanche #ahonice writes #fluff #angst

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