#It’s also interesting how his attitude and demeanor change after you beat his ass | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

utterlyhopeful-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Love you too.

A/N: This was initially supposed to be smut but my brain went hay wire and ended in angst. More Mayans coming next week!

MASTERLIST

Also, if I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 2210

Ezekiel Reyes x Reader

Warnings: language, angst, Ez being an asshole, heartbreak, more angst

*****************************************

Ezekiel couldn’t resist ogling Y/N from across the overly crowded bar. Cigar smoke filtrated throughout, pool cues ricocheted, and Y/N dawned that brilliant smile of hers. Her candied glimpse combined with her impeccably short dress, and irrevocably sexiness drove Ez to the brink of combustion. Ez perched an elbow against the wood bar top watching Y/N’s hypnotizing demeanor. She shot him a playful glance unwilling to draw her attention elsewhere than from the beautiful man across the room.

Her voice oozed of alcoholic flirtation as she bit her lower lip catching his interest and walking his way.

“Come here often, hotshot?”

There was no denying the sly chuckle that slipped off his lips; “Smooth line. How often does that one actually work?”

Her kittenish nature only stoked his fire lighting a fire in his belly.

“Well…my boyfriend usually falls for it but he’s kinda into that cutesy bullshit. Come to think of it, you might know him. Tall, dark, and handsome? Ring any bells?”

Her insinuated attitude was driving him crazy. Unbeknownst to Y/N, his cock stirred in the confines of his jeans. She wanted to force his hand, compel to his more dominant side. His blood seethed as his eardrums hummed of desolate waves. Ez bit his tongue to stop the trickle of words begging to slink from his lips.

“Sounds like a sucker. Didn’t think a pretty chica like you to be taken? Such a shame.”

Y/N’s raised an eyebrow in curiosity wondering how much longer she could push him before he turned into putty.

“Now, now. I don’t appreciate you talking shit about my man. It’d be best if you watch yourself.”

Y/N excelled when a challenge presented itself. Defiance buried in her very pitch as she scooted closer to the man in question. Now elbow to elbow, Y/N rested her cheek against her knuckles coyishly.

“Baby, if you keep smiling like that, my panties will be drenched before we have the chance to do a damn thing about it.”

Leaning closer in;” Please don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting I turn you on…make you wet?” There was no hiding the devilish grin cemented on his perfect face.

Her face furiously flushed at his choice words; “Most definitely, E. In all honesty, I’m not wearing underwear because matter of fact just looking at that gorgeous jawline of yours is way too much for my ovaries to handle.”

His tongue met the roof of his mouth creating a tsk sound reverberating from his mouth. Y/N rubbed her thighs together in hopes of alleviating her eccentric inner bits. Y/N pushed her falling tendrils from her face tilting her head his direction. Her hand made quick work caressing her inner breasts as Ez watched her chest beat rapidly.

“Mmmhm, and this girl is hoping her boyfriend just might be able to sneak away from his boys for a minute to properly fuck his girl. But I’d hate to force your hand….”

“I hope you know the punishment that ensues for this behavior baby girl…”

“Oh, so you admit you’ll punish me? God, I’ve been dying for you to fuck me all night. Finally, you got the hint, Prospect.”

Ezekiel chucked at her cleverness. He’d long fallen for the woman before him, but he appreciated the constant challenge she reciprocated time and time again.

“What are you trying to hint at, Y/N?”

“You know exactly what I want and you’re playing coy if you don’t.”

Y/N rested her hand atop his shoulder as his hand perched upon the dip of her luscious hip. Leaning in dangerously close, she trailed sleek kisses against the slick of his neck. Each smooth trailed upwards towards his ear as Y/N leaned in seductively close.

“It’s cute thinking you don’t want to fuck the shit out of me here. Your bashfulness never seizes to amaze me.”

Her hands grazed down his defined abs brutishly stroking the outer layer of his jeans.

“But your dick seems to tell another story.”

Ezekiel gazed around the room watching his brothers too distracted by pool cues and babes to notice their interaction laughing aloud.

“If you haven’t noticed I’m still their bitch boy and I can’t just slip away without someone noticing.”

“Oh, but I promise you won’t have to travel far. The bathrooms are only a few feet away. So, if you’re interested in fucking your super-horny girlfriend, meet me there in five minutes. If not, I’ll just have to do the job myself. But don’t worry, I’ll send you the video.”

“You’re such a goddamn brat, you know that? …” Ez moved his hand grazing his clothed crotch as a moan alluded her.

“Can’t you feel how hard I am for you right now? It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yes, dear boyfriend. If you’re bating me then yes, I do want to fuck you here and now.”

“So quick to make demands when you’re in no position to do so. Shit, I can’t wait to nestle so fucking deep within you, to hear you begging for me. Someone needs to fuck the brat outta ya.”

“Oh, it’s so cute you think I’ll beg. My pussy is your haven, don’t forget that.”

Y/N added just an inch of space between their sweltering bodies unwilling to give into him so easily.

“So, I’ll take your erect cock as a yes. You know where I’ll be…”

Y/N walked by him dripping in her own seductive nature. Ez reached towards her gripping her arm in exchange; “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”

“Well guess you can prove it to me.”

“Oh, you tease….”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!”

“You little…”

“Brat? That’s right, only one person makes me act this way, feel this way and that person is you. So, whether you like it or not, deal with it.”

“Oh, I’ll deal with you alright. Soon enough you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”

“I completely intend on it. In fact, I’ll leave the ball in your court.”

Y/N sauntered past him making sure to graze her breasts against his trunk; “You know where I’ll be.” She winked his way hoping for Ez to catch her hint before walking towards the bathroom hoping the one person she’d hoped would follow. Ezekiel Reyes was genuinely her other half, someone who understood every intricate design she’d been allotted.

Coco approached the Ez clasping his shoulder; “How are you the luckiest bastard outta all of us, Prospect? You get to tap that on the daily? Not fair cabrón.”

His angelic curls fell gently upon his forehead as that signature smirk of his appeared.

“In my defense, she’s a little shit that she tests my patience every damn day. But, yes, I gotta agree with you. I’m the luckiest bastard outta all of us.”

“So quit fuckin talking to me and go get yo girl, newbie.”

Ez nodded agreeing with Coco. He was torn between his club obligations and chasing after Y/N, his eyes bouncing back and forth.

“Don’t worry. I’ll cover you. 10 minutes… now go before I change my mind!”

“Thanks, brother. I owe you one.”

“Damn right you do, now go!”

His boots pounded against the wood; his strides picked up taking him quickly to his destination. Ez’s anticipation peaked as he neared the bathroom door rattling the handle. Ez stood dumbfounded to find the door locked…

“Querida, I know you’re in there. I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson, ain’t I?”

Y/N whispered back through the door; “I’m counting on it.”

The click of the door gave way unlocking as Ez stepped inside swiftly shutting the door behind him. He eyed Y/N like she was his last and final meal wanting to devour her from the outside in. The startled look in her misty eyes only excited him more. He stalked towards her; Y/N walked backwards in sync with him. Soon enough, the back of her thighs met the cold cabinet. Her skin crawled of goosebumps as her panting increased significantly.

“You bait me all night, wearing this ungodly short piece of fabric that barely covers anything on this gorgeous body of yours, and you have the audacity to talk shit?”

Electricity stifled their small quarters as Ez’s hands played with her hemline. Wet kisses tickled down her collar bone. Y/N tilted her head allowing Ez easier access. Torturously slow, Ez pressed the material upwards above her curvy hips revealing her bare pussy.

“No underwear. Glad to see you weren’t lying.”

Y/N slapped his chest in jest; “One thing I will never do is lie to you Ezekiel Reyes.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Only adding fuel to the fire, Y/N grasped his chin between her fingers forcing his gaze to remain on her and only her. She squeezed tightly enough to grab his fleeting attention.

“I don’t joke about that shit, E. I’ve never felt this way before. Don’t spoil it just yet.”

The crow’s feet near his eyes softened exhaling all the excess air loitering in his lungs. His infamous puppy dog looks triggered charging their electricity. Forgetting her momentarily exposure, Y/N closed the gap kissing him with every inch of might fathomable. She mustered every ounce of desire to which Ez gladly reciprocated.

Their moans intermingled as Ez tapped her thigh signaling to jump on the counter. Her legs spread unconscious creating the perfect amount of space for him to slide into. His hands travelled along her sides before finding home and squeezing the globes of her luscious ass. Every dimple and indention turned him on. An illicit squeak was the only other sound accompanying their heavy breathing.

“Please, E.” A whiny undertone whirred to life.

“Please what? I’m right here.”

Her legs wrapped around his hips securely pulling him closer. His jeans rubbed deliciously against her exposed thighs only teasing her further.

“I want you. All of you, Ezekiel Reyes. Forever.”

Something unexplainable shifted in that moment as Ez gazed down at the girl pinned beneath him. For so long, he’d wanted this, dreamt of her, and now he wasn’t sure how to handle himself. The last time he gave himself so freely to another ended up burning him. Emily was his first love but Y/N, Y/N was his epic love. The twinkle in her eyes welcomed him time and time again silently begging for permission. Suddenly it wasn’t just about sex and pleasure but an opportunity of redemption.

“You feel it too, right?”

Y/N pulled back from his grasp embarrassed at her newfound honesty. “Ugh, I’m fucking it up, aren’t I? I didn’t mean for things to get so intense in a fucking bathroom of all places?”

Just as she moved to hop down, Ez stopped her. His this, this life he chose was no place for a woman like Y/N. And though his heart beat victoriously in his chest, Ezekiel knew what had to done. There was no way in hell he’d allow her to morph into his fucked-up life. He wanted to shout it to the rooftops; I’m in love with you too.

He was ripping at the seams dying to scream his unprofessed love but once again denying the beast within him. His silence was enough of an answer. Y/N frowned trying to hide the quiver of her chin. Looking away, Y/N furiously blinked hoping to will her unshed tears into oblivion. Her purity and compassion were too much at risk to sacrifice.

“Y/N….”

“No, don’t Ezekiel.”

“I think we want different things, things I can’t offer you.”

The rumbles in her chest cascaded violently like waves attacking a cliff. His rejection stung like ravenous bees.

“You can but you won’t. There’s a difference! God! I fall for this shit every time. You lure me back in and just when I break through your heavily guarded walls you pull back and shoo me away. How many times do you have to remind me you don’t want me, E?”

A lone tear streaked down her cheek. Sadness swallowed her whole plummeting to an unimaginable depth. His thumb inadvertently reached for the droplet but she flinched in the nick of time. Defeat coursed through his blood. His subconscious screamed for him to speak but nothing came out. Her words seared him, his own personal brand of pain. Calm down heart.

“Tell me you feeling nothing and I’ll never ask again.”

The somber quietness remained suffocating both parties. It was then that the truth finally dawned on him like boulders falling from the sky. Sometimes the hardest battle we fight is the battle within ourselves.

“Jeez, Ez. Guess I got my answer. Next time you have one of your urges, don’t call me, ever.”

Her warm palm pressed against his pectoral lightly shoving him. The minute distance was enough to destroy him. Her rejection simmered into her movements. With her strength fast depleting, Y/N craved fresh fall air. She stopped in place looking over her sunken shoulder; “It’s sad when someone you know becomes someone you knew. Have a nice life, Reyes.”

Now that she had nothing to lose, she was free. Free to mourn the love she so tragically denied. She distracted herself to save herself. After all, how often do we get a second chance…

~~~~~

Tags: @twistnet @ifoundmyhappythought @angelreyesgirl89 @carlaangel86 @imagineredwood @gemini0410 @mayans-mc @reaperwalking @prospectfandom @emmaveale123 @peaky-marvel @kind-wolf @scorpio4dayzzz @starrynite7114 @penny4yourthot @breanime @thegirlwhowritesfics @star017 @threeminutesoflife @woahitslucyylu @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass @blessedboo @lady-pswrld @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @claytoncardenasbabymama @angelreyesgirl89 @cocotheclown @trulysuccubus @janeexo @itsjusttaralove @soaronmywings @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @starrynite7114 @hermankopusortizorsumshite @fvckthisbxtchup @noz4a2 @lharrietg

#ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x reader #ez reyes #ez x reader #ez reyes x reader #mayans #mayans mc #fx #mayans fanfic #mayans fic #mayans x reader #mayans mc x reader #my writing #ez reyes oneshot #angst

169 notes · View notes

dulce-pjm · 4 years ago

Text

“f” for effort

word count: 3.6k

genre: fluff

summary: this feud has gone on far too long. the study room is yours and you no longer care what namjoon has to say about it.

You’re running for your life.

At least, that’s really what it looks like. If you weren’t so goddamn fast, bystanders might have stopped to ask if you were safe or needed help. You’re huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf’s elderly grandma as you tear across campus with only one destination in mind. Beads of sweat drip down your forehead and stains are threatening to form in the pits of your shirt but frankly, you couldn’t give a shit. You’ve got a place to be, and fast.

Said place is your heaven. Your paradise. Your land of milk and honey. Or as a moron would call it, the corner library study room.

It’s roomy, it’s quiet, almost no one knew it was there. When you had loads of coursework to catch up on (which was often and just so happened to be the case on this Friday night), you sought refuge in your precious study room. During the day, the lighting was beautiful. The windows were massive, letting all of the sun’s rays beam into the cozy room and make you feel warm, bright, awake. At night, when you became especially frustrated, you could always slide your rolling chair over to said big windows and gaze at the stars or stare off into the night.

No one appreciated that room correctly, not like you did it.

Which is why you had to stop that little fucker, Namjoon, from stealing it from right under your nose.

The two of you were only freshmen, but your ongoing feud over the glorious study room was intense enough to have lasted generations. You both were willing to pull out all the stops if that’s what it took to keep the other from making it to the room. You used the cheapest of tricks, flat out sabotaging the other if you felt it necessary.

You recall one particular time you planted a fake spider (one of his biggest fears, you’d learned) in his backpack before the end of your shared Calc II class, making him let loose a shrill shriek, much to the annoyance of the professor. And while Namjoon was getting lectured on disrupting class and not acting his age, you were waltzing off to the study room, internally flipping him off as you did. The memory makes you chuckle as you heave and sprint.

It wasn’t that Namjoon had done anything particularly wrong to you. You figured in another context, you might have found him much more bearable, maybe even nice. But something about him just rubbed you the wrong way.

For one, he was an applied mathematics major. Who the fuck majors in just math? People who want to flex how much smarter they are than you, that’s who. And what did the applied part even mean? You suspected someone just as unbearable as Namjoon had added the word in so that he (because of course it was a man) and all his other mathematician friends could be pretentious, annoying fucks together.

Secondly, despite being one of the top students in your class, he was a member of a fraternity. How he had time to both outperform everyone else in the STEM program and party it out with the frat brothers every night was beyond you. You’d heard from your senior friend (who also notified you that Namjoon was after your precious study room) that was also part of the brotherhood that Namjoon was on some kind of fraternity-specific scholarship and that was the only reason he joined. That you understood, tuition was no joke. Didn’t make him any less annoying, though.

And third? Third... Well, you couldn’t think of a third point right now but you’re certain there is one, you know it. You probably couldn’t remember because you were running out of oxygen and dying under the beating sun.

You’re almost crying tears of joy when you enter the library, head whipping around to search for a particular tall blonde. Luckily, he’s nowhere in sight.

Your feet scream as they carry you to your safe haven but you can’t even be bothered until-

“Going somewhere?” He strides next to you, his effortless speed-walking easily overtaking your sloppy attempt at a run. Your books are threatening to slip from your arms and you’re fairly certain you lost the sunglasses on top of your head long ago when you came barreling down the bio building stairs.

“Fuck you, Kim,” you spit harshly. “I came in here first so I get the room.” Your crudeness only makes him laugh maniacally. You curse the little dimples that crease into his cheeks, taking them as an insult to your misery.

“As far as I can see-” He takes advantage of your height difference and takes a massive step in front of you. “-I’m going to get there before you.” As if to tease you further, he spins to face you as he easily surpasses you, approaching the study room and its sign-up sheet with increasing speed.

If you want to win this round- and you really, really do, not only to get your work done but to rub it in his smug face- you’ll need to play dirty.

Moments later, Namjoon is picking up the pen, smirking at you as he moves to haphazardly scribble his name into the time slot. But you’re already formulating a plan. Your textbooks were pretty damn heavy, you bet it’d definitely throw him off if you managed to drop them on his toes. Actually, it definitely would, since the idiot was wearing sandals in late October. As you’re taking aim, however, Namjoon’s face falls.

“The fuck is a board game club?” You freeze, mere steps away from dropping your books on his foot.

“What?” When he doesn’t explain, you nudge him aside and peer at the sign-up sheet. Lo and behold, there it is.

From eight p.m. to midnight, the room is booked. By a... board game club. And it’s seven forty-five now, which means you’re shit out of luck.

“Well, looks like neither of us-”

“This is bullshit.” Namjoon chuckles at your disgusted expression.

“It’s just a study room, Y/N. I’m sure there’s another free one.”

“Well, I don’t want just any study room, Kim. I want my study room.” He scoffs at your arrogance and (quite unfortunately) follows you as you spin on your heel and take off in the other direction.

“Well, what are you gonna do about it? Tell off the game club?”

“I’m going to lodge a complaint and get my study room back.”

“Mhmm.” He trails you incessantly as you march up to the nearest help desk and drop your books in front of the poor employee about to suffer from your wrath.

“Can I help you?” the sheepish girl asks. She couldn’t be much older than you. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do.

“Yes, can you please explain why a-” You raise your fingers for air quotes. “-‘board game club’ has booked a private study room, taking priority over student study time?” The girl is taken aback at your abruptness, clearly not used to being confronted in such a manner. But you weren’t here to waste time by avoiding hurt feelings.

“I-” She hesitates, looking to the blonde beside you for help, of which he gives none. “I’m not sure what to tell you. The study rooms are first come, first serve.”

“For students,” you emphasize, pressing your palms into the desk and leaning forward. “Not unofficial club gatherings.” Something changes in the girl’s face and she turns away from you and faces her computer, typing something across the keyboard. In just a moment, her entire demeanor has flipped. It seems she’s not interested in entertaining your attitude anymore.

“Well, looks like the ‘Board Game Club’ is an official, university-sponsored club. Which means they’re just as much entitled to study room time as you are. Actually, more-so, since you didn’t book your room in advance.” She spins her office chair backs towards you. “Sorry.” She shrugs, flashing you an all-too-fake smile.

“Ugh, fine.” You pile your books back into your arms and roll your eyes, leaving the library altogether.

And your trail follows you.

“What, you’re just gonna leave? There were other study rooms open!” You scoff, annoyed at his ignorance.

“Well the other study rooms that are open at this time either smell like ass or have no air conditioning. So that’s a no-go.” Namjoon laughs quietly, agreeing with your sentiment. He’s been stuck in his fair share of poor study rooms before and knows it can ruin the experience.

“So.... what are you going to do now?”

You find yourself wondering why he’s still here, talking to you when he should be organizing his own study plan for the night. Further yet, you wonder why you’re entertaining his stupid questions at all.

“I dunno. Camp out at the campus Starbucks?”

“What? But they close at ten!” You shoot an exasperated look in his direction.

“And what’s it to you?” You pick up the pace in an effort to shake off your stalker, but much to your annoyance he jumps in front of you, thrusting out his hands before you can take a step further. You nearly collide with his chest.

“Would you just wait a sec?” Your eyes glide up to meet his as you tap your foot, barely acknowledging you’re listening. “Why don’t you just come back to my place with me?” Your eyes narrow.

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but-” His eyes widen and he begins frantically shaking his head. You almost smirk. It’s fun watching him squirm.

“No! That’s not what I meant!” He sighs, wringing his hands. “Most of the fraternity is at this other party so the house will be empty tonight. And quiet. I know that’s why you like the study rooms and it’s the least I can do for you.”

You’re still suspicious. What’s in it for him? He certainly wasn’t just being nice to be nice. There was something else involved.

“If you knew the house would be empty tonight then why did you try to take the study room?” Namjoon shrugs, grinning mischievously.

“You’re just too fun to tease.”

That remark has you scoffing and brushing past him, not even dignifying him with a response.

“Wait! Just slow down, would you?” A heavy hand settles on your shoulder and Namjoon is beside you again. You’re about to scream with frustration.

“What, Namjoon? What could you possibly tell me that will convince me to come study with you?”

He grins sheepishly.

“I’ll buy you pizza?”

Okay, yeah, you’re a tad ashamed you let your morals slide in exchange for greasy pizza that will wreck your stomach in the morning. But you’re hungry, okay? And the dining hall was already closed and your wallet was empty and it just happened.

And now you were plopped on Namjoon’s bed typing away furiously at your laptop. He’d made a few efforts at light conversation, but he quickly gave up trying to push that boulder when you barely grunted in response to his questions.

His room was surprisingly nice and organized. The bedsheets were barely wrinkled and the room smelled pleasant despite it being apart of a literal frat house. Though his desk was a mess, littered with math theory books and philosophy papers and historical fiction novels. The books appeared well-loved and cared for, not like they were simply written as required on a syllabus.

He appeared pretty organized, too. The oak-colored round glasses he’d donned after arriving made him look older, more scholarly. And definitely more pretentious.

You were glad the two of you weren’t doing this at your dorm. Your room was an actual nightmare. Your life might be organized and planned down to the minute, but your bedroom was an entirely different story.

“So...” Namjoon chews on the end of his pen as he reworks old calculus problems. “Psychology major?”

Really, trying at the small talk again? Good luck with that.

You’re about to completely ignore him when it occurs to you that if you don’t talk about your major he will most certainly talk about his. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve heard him rant and preach about math and its many uses in modern society. So before you end up stuck in that situation, you entertain his question. If it could even be called that.

“Mhmm.” You bite the bottom of your lip as you contemplate the next line of your essay. You don’t notice Namjoon staring. “I plan to graduate a year early and go straight to med school. Probably open a family practice one day.” Namjoon leans back into his bed frame, nodding in something close to awe.

“Wow, you really got it that planned out?”

“Yup,” you reply, popping the ‘p.’ “Since I was fifteen. I only majored in psychology because I think it’s interesting and I’ll look well-rounded when I start applying to med school. I’ll definitely just be a family doctor.”

“Well, you are a great people person...” You finally crack the next line of your paper and type it away, completely missing the joke and subtle jab.

Ding dong.

“That the pizza?” It’s the first thing you’ve said to him unprompted since you got here.

“Think so. I’ll be back.” He heaves himself up from the bed and trots out of the room, right as your phone buzzes. You only spare the screen a passing glance, but upon seeing the notification is a text from your roommate, you immediately open it.

9:18 pm. Yeji: where are you? ive looked for you everywhere >:( 9:22 pm. Yeji: Y/N? pls respond or ill be worried 9:23 pm. Y/N: I thought you were using the room for yourself tonight. Why are you at the library? 9:23 pm. Yeji: suho cancelled :( i came to find you at the library but you aren’t here ? 9:24 pm. Y/N: The study rooms were all taken. Me and Namjoon are studying at his place. 9:24 pm. Yeji: wait, really?!?! 9:24 pm. Yeji: oh my god, FINALLY 9:25 pm. Y/N: ??? 9:27 pm. Y/N: Yeji?? 9:28 pm. Yeji: im just relieved you two are finally owning up to the obvious sexual tension in this stupid feud and banging it out ;)

You choke. Is that what people thought about you? The idea made you want to gag.

9:29 pm. Y/N: What ?? 9:29 pm. Y/N: NO 9:29 pm. Y/N: That is most definitely NOT what is happening. 9:29 pm. Y/N: That’s disgusting. 9:30 pm. Yeji: aww booooooo 9:30 pm. Yeji: and to think, i was getting my hopes up for you 9:30 pm. Yeji: but seriously tho 9:31 pm. Yeji: whatever dance you two are playing isn’t gonna last long 9:31 pm. Yeji: its obvious you two like each other

With that, you shut the phone off completely and set it face down, suddenly feeling very, very hot.

Yeji was an idiot. She didn’t know what she was talking about.

Right?

This argument, this feud, this competition, it was fueled by anger and annoyance and, as much as you hate to say it, pettiness. You couldn’t stand Kim. And he didn’t particularly like you either. There was nothing else going on here.

Your arguments weren’t flirting. They were arguments. Simple as that.

But then again, you were sitting in his room. Studying together. Letting him buy you dinner.

Well, fuck.

“Pizza delivery!” You scream in fright as he enters the room, making him nearly drop the box full of your precious dinner.

“Oh my god, fuck, are you okay?” You quickly fan at your cheeks to combat the furnace burning underneath them.

“Yep! I’m fine! Just don’t scare me like that, for god’s sake.”

When you meet his eyes, Namjoon looks genuinely apologetic.

Your heart flutters. This little shit.

“Well, uh, here’s your pizza.” He slides the box next to your laptop and settles on the opposite side of the bed, returning to his work.

“You’re not gonna eat?”

“Nah, I ate earlier. And your stomach is growling. I can hear it from over here.” Your eyes bulge.

Had he cared like this all along? Had you just been too blind to notice it? You were freaking out, your heart rate climaxing and your hands quickly becoming lightly coated in sweat.

The weight of the past few months hits you like a freight train.

It’s much too overwhelming.

You’re suddenly aware of your close proximity. The smell of the room, of him, is overpowering and suffocating. The air is thick and you think you might choke. When did that dimpled grin become so attractive? Just before it immediately pissed you off but now...

You eye his blonde locks, imagining what it’d be like to run your fingers through them before you can stop yourself. The glasses you’d found pretentious somehow make him cute, maybe even endearing. Did you always feel like this?

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or like you might throw up. Please don’t puke on my floor, I’m begging.”

“Fine!” you squeak, whipping your face back to the laptop screen, unwilling to let your eyes move even an inch in his direction.

Even still, it’s like you can feel his body heat from across the bed, calling you in, taunting you for being the biggest moron you knew.

You gotta get out of here.

You finish your essay in record time, just as the clock strikes eleven. You’ve already instructed Yeji to pick you up at eleven-fifteen, and she’s always early. Now all you had to do was ignore the way your heart was beating in your throat and slip away to forget this ever happened.

After a few days used to succumb to logic, you’d realize this was all a mistake. A misunderstanding. An unnecessary emotional reaction.

“Well-” You stand, gathering your books in your arms. “I’m off. Thanks for buying me dinner and letting me intrude.” He looks up from his work to you, eyes bleary and exhausted. You hate the way you enjoy how he gives you his full attention and concern.

“It’s really no problem. Do you want me to walk you home?”

Goddamn, Namjoon. Stop being such a gentleman, would you?

“No. It’s fine. My roommate is picking me up.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies, appearing slightly disappointed. No, he wasn’t disappointed. You’re just crazy and emotionally unstable at the moment.

You bid him an awkward wave and slowly back out of the room when he calls out for you.

“Y/N!” You freeze in the hallway as he approaches, noticing how his hair has fallen out of its styled position and hangs loosely rumpled in his face.

“Yes?” He probably was gonna ask for you to pay for the pizza since he didn’t eat it. Yeah, that seems like a Namjoon thing to do.

He pauses and grins awkwardly, making your eyes fly to those dimples. He wrings his hands.

“I- uh-” He breathes out sharply through his nose. “I had a nice time.” You nod, allowing no change in your blank expression.

“I appreciated the quiet. Thanks.” He sighs, looking as tired as you feel.

“Look, I’ll cut to the chase. I’ve been trying to tell you I’m interested in you for a few months now.” Your heart stops and you’re unable to offer a response. “I may have got a bit carried away teasing but, well…’

“What do I need to do to secure another study date with you?”

You’re shocked. Flattered, even. But more than anything, you feel your pride inflating in your chest. You quickly forget that just moments before, you were the one drooling over him and instead bask in the fact that he’s been pining for you this whole time. You feel emboldened.

You give him a half-hearted shrug. Namjoon’s face falls.

“If you want a second date with me, you’ll have to do better than trashy pizza and textbooks.” A smile spreads across the boy’s face as he lets out a laugh that he’s desperately trying to contain.

You love seeing him flustered. You’re a bit more comfortable admitting that now.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. I’ll work on that.”

You give him a curt nod as the two of you walk towards the front door.

“Find me in the corner study room when you come up with something.” You give him a glance over your shoulder as you step out into the night.

“Yes ma’am,” he shouts back, playfully saluting you. You’re already missing his annoying presence as he closes the door.

When you collapse into the passenger seat of Yeji’s car, you aren’t listening to her chatter at all. Not that you normally would, but this time there’s not even a chance you don’t tune everything out.

You know, you think you could make room for Namjoon in your life plan. He was a little shit, sure. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t too. And something tells you that you won’t be getting rid of him so easily anymore.

#bts #bts scenario #bts fanfic #namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon fluff #not quite enemies to lovers but somewhere in that realm #more like unknowingly flirtatious idiots to lovers i'd say #namjoon as an asshole #OC as a bigger asshole #but they're assholes in love #ya feel?

36 notes · View notes

therainroguefanfiction · 5 years ago

Text

⁂ How Do You Love? (Tenipuri) o2

📑 Table of Contents | ◂ Previous

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Morning came quicker than I would’ve liked and I found my eyes peeling open just as the sun started to shine through the curtains. I glanced at the clock and sighed; seven o’clock. On the off chance that I did manage to fall asleep again, I probably wouldn’t wake up soon enough to catch our taxi. I looked over at my brother and smiled, throwing the covers back and grabbing my cell phone.

Ryoma was still fast asleep, sprawled out on his back. Wrapped in his arms was a plush cat that looked exactly like his real cat, Karupin. I snapped a quick picture of the cute scene before quietly leaving the bedroom to let him sleep. That boy would never admit it, but I know that he’s happy to be returning home, if only for the fact that he’ll get to see his precious Karupin again. Who could blame him, though? That cat is hella freaking cute.

I grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the fridge before falling onto the couch. I had about three hours of free time before it was time to head to the airport. Ryoma should wake up around eight and then I can make him a quick breakfast if he’s hungry. I had packed our things yesterday so I don’t have that to worry about.

“In the meantime,” I exchanged my soda for the Playstation controller. “Time to kick some ass in some drift events.”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

It was exactly 10:45 when we reached the airport. While I carried both our bags to the terminal, Ryoma darted over to the vending machines. I waited for him to return with a grape soda for him and a DP for me. We showed the woman our passports and ticket and boarded the plane without any issue. While I was busy putting our bags in the compartment above our seats, Ryoma stole my window seat.

I scowled at him, taking the seat next to him in the middle of the row – which his ass was supposed to be in. Like always, I gave in to my baby brother and let him have his way.

“Excuse me… miss?” The stewardess – a young thing no more than twenty-five – leaned down toward me with a nervous expression. “It seems there was a mix up with seats.”

I narrowed my eyes. I know this bitch isn’t about to tell me I have to move seats.

She refused to look at me as she swallowed hard, obviously intimidated. “Umm… well…”

A scoff came from behind her as a boy moved to stand next to her. He was tall, probably about six foot, and he was dressed in a basketball uniform. His hair was sandy brown in color, his eyes slate gray and his skin tanned. He looked around the same age as myself.

He stepped forward. “They gave my seat to some man-hungry middle-aged woman. The only available seat is next to you. You mind?”

I shrugged. “Go for it,”

The boy threw his bag into the compartment before taking the empty seat on my right. The smell of Irish spring reached my nose. Well, at least this boy had good taste in soap.

Ryoma leaned forward to get a better look at him. “Hey, what’s your name?”

The boy glanced at him. “Rei Shishido,”

“Hmm, you’re not from the states, are you?”

“No,” He answered shortly, probably wondering if he should go into detail.

“We’re stuck together for fourteen hours. Let’s get along, senpai~”

I rolled my eyes at my brother’s attitude, sliding down in my seat to get more comfortable. He did have a point, but I wasn’t too interested – we’d probably never even see this kid again. The real question is, why is Ryoma so interested? It was unlike him.

“I’m from Tokyo, returning from a basketball tournament. You?”

“Ryoma Echizen. Tennis tournament.”

I suddenly felt eyes on me and looked up to find both males staring at me. “The fuck are you lookin’ at me like that for?”

Ryoma sighed, motioning toward me with his hand. “This is my nee-chan, Lux.”

Why the hell did I need to be introduced? I wasn’t even part of their conversation.

“Neh, senpai, what school do you attend?”

“Rikkai Daigaku. It’s in the Kanagawa prefecture.”

My body tensed, my left eye twitching. Okay, so maybe we would see each other again… I noticed Ryoma’s smirk out of the corner of my eye. So this is what he was playing at, the cheeky brat. How did he know? Was my baby brother psychic or something?

“What a coincidence, that’s the school my nee-chan is going to attend. Please take care of her for me, senpai~”

“Ryoma,” I narrowed my eyes at him and he tried to pull off this innocent look. It was completely shadowed by the smug smirk, though. I swear to god when I see Kenko, I’m gonna beat his ass. Can’t he keep anything to himself? He’s just like my old man. How meddlesome.

“Y-Yeah. I’ll do my best.” Rei responded, shocking the both of us – not only with his response but also because he was hiding pink cheeks behind his tan hand.

“Don’t force yourself,” I muttered. Ryoma was trying to stifle his laughter but failed when I glared at him.

The rest of the flight passed without incident. Ryoma spent most of the time reading tennis magazines and sleeping. I spent it playing racing games on my Vita. Rei had tuned us out with his headphones.

The plane landed shortly after one in the morning.

Ryoma was fast asleep against the window. I shook him lightly but he only groaned softly, so I decided it would be less work just to carry him. I slid my arms under his small body, bringing him to my chest. He shifted with another groan, wrapping his arms around my neck. When I turned around, Rei was standing in the aisle with his bag slung over one shoulder and ours thrown over the other. Rather than questioning him, I just nodded my thanks when I brushed past him.

“Who’s coming to pick you up?” He questioned.

“Our old man, if he didn’t forget. What about you?”

“My dad.” He shifted the bags when they started to fall. “Maybe my younger brother.”

“Luxray-chan~!”

My body tensed up as a tick mark appeared below my eye. “Kenko,” I growled out, my narrowed eyes quickly searching the crowd of people until I found him. I met him halfway, kicking my leg up to slam the bottom of my boot into his face. “I’m not a fucking pokemon, you asshole!”

“O-Oi!” Rei called in surprise, his voice laced with worry and confusion.

“Welcome home, Miss Winchester~!” Kenko grinned from his position on the ground. His hand was holding his bright red nose, muffling his words. “Your old man was busy, so he sent me to pick you up.”

“Why does this feel planned?”

“Because it was.”

“Kenko.”

“Yes?”

“You’re lucky I’m holding Ryoma.”

“I know.” He smiled, pulling himself to his feet. His violet eyes landed on Rei and his smile dropped, attitude changing from cheerful to tense. “Shishido-san.”

“Yasujirou.” Rei’s attitude didn’t change – he still looked confused.

I raised a brow at my friend. “I take it you two know each other.”

He forced a bright smile. “We’ve both gone to Rikkai high since first year.”

“Heh, I sense some hostility, Kenko-senpai.” Came Ryoma’s cocky voice from my arms. This was the first time he had met Kenko in person, though they’ve talked on the phone numerous times before. “You can put me down now, nee-chan.”

I placed him on his feet.

“No~, there’s no hostility between us at all, chibi-chan.” Kenko honestly should’ve been an actor. Even I almost believed his cheerful demeanor. Almost.

“Bro! There you are.” A younger boy approached Rei. His hair was a darker brown but his skin wasn’t as tan. “Eh? Who are they?”

“No one important.” Kenko gave the boy a closed-eye smile as he took our bags from Rei. “We really should get going, your old man is waiting!” He grabbed both my arm and Ryoma’s in a tight grip, practically dragging us toward the exit despite our protests.

When we made it outside, I ripped my arm from his grip with a scowl. “The fuck is your problem?” He opened his mouth to respond but I cut him off. “And don’t lie to me, idiot.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “Shishido is part of the basketball club, the most brutal club in the entire school. All of the members are cruel, violent, and can’t be trusted. Everyone avoids them if possible. Personally, I don’t trust any of them as far as I can throw them.”

“Which isn’t very far,” I commented.

“He seemed fine to me.” Ryoma shrugged.

“It’s easy to pretend, ne~?” Kenko put on his fake eye-smile again to prove his point.

We exchanged a look before Ryoma shrugged, tugging his cap down. Kenko caught a cab and started to place our bags in the trunk. Before I could slide into the backseat, Ryoma grabbed my wrist and tugged me down so he could whisper in my ear. I snickered at his request and nodded, allowing him to climb in first. Right before Kenko followed, I smacked him in the back of his head making him fall face-first onto the leather seat.

I grinned at him as he shifted to make room for me. “That was for calling him chibi-chan.”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

▸Next

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

4 notes · View notes

stxrrynct · 6 years ago

Text

I’m not supposed to | 01

↳ He was a complete asshole, you knew— but despite knowing what he truly was, he kept drawing you closer. They were uncontrollable, the feelings you had for him, but there wasn’t a moment where you wanted them concealed. What you wanted was him, but his unpredictable and shallow demeanor only brought more mystery to the surface of his character. When he begins to catch on, you find yourself closer than ever to those whom you never thought you cared for— and after realizing that too, you begin to question who this ‘he’ truly applies for.

Pairings; Kim Taehyung x reader, Jeon Jungkook x reader

Genre; Romance, future smut, Hogwarts!Au, Gryffindor!Taehyung, Slytherin!Jungkook

Words; 5 754

| 01 | coming soon ➵

A/N: This maybe won’t be the longest or best series, as it’s not as good as I would want it to be, but I wrote this since the idea has been in my head for a really long time. If people like it, I’ll write more— so please tell me what you think, it means a lot. Enjoy :)

『October 20th, 2018』

__________________

"Fuck you."

Your eyes didn't leave his determined face as you stared at each other across your seats. Hands perched upon the surface of the table, you leaned most of your weight against it as you inched closer to him. The words that you had spat to his face caused a rough chuckle to leave his throat— but you didn't allow any glint of humor to appear in your gleaming eyes.

"Hell, I'd prefer you not to.", he muttered in response, his eyebrows narrowing intensely.

Not allowing his attitude or words to be the last hanging upon the end of the conversation, you smiled sheepishly and slowly raised your right hand beside your face where you knew it would enter his field of vision. His eyes tried desperately to not leave yours, but his mouth twitched into a tight frown as he noticed the middle finger sat beside your head— which you tilted slightly to the left.

"For your cocky ass.", you clarified. “In case you don’t quite understand—”

"Okay you two, seriously", Jimin sighed from the seat beside you, leaning the palm of his hand against his forehead as he watched you two from behind his hand. "I think you're taking this staring contest way too far."

You slowly narrowed your eyes in anticipation as you watched Taehyung viciously, awaiting the surrender that you were expecting. He was weak, you knew— as a regard to the fact that no one could beat you at a staring contest, as you had claimed yourself the official 'no-blink master'. A name that hadn't come to stick around with the rest of your peers.

Yet.

Taehyung, sighing deeply out of pure frustration, lowered his eyes from yours and turned to Jimin, who watched you two with a tense glare. The second his eyes blinked for the first time in five minutes, you followed his actions— cheering loudly for your victory by shooting up from your seat and stretching your arms high above your head, pointing mockingly at Taehyung.

"What did I tell you? I was so fucking right, wasn't I?!", you laughed loudly, Taehyung burying his face into his hands— his elbows leaned against the wooden table that your house had previously eaten peacefully at.

Maybe you'd yelled a little too loudly.

The stern voice from behind you made you jump from surprise, and you slowly lowered your hands as you turned to face the one who stood behind you. Professor McGonagall, who so dearly didn't despise you but didn't necessarily like you either, towered above you with a neutral expression.

As neutral of an expression that she could have when she had to constantly tell you off for the troubles you were causing at a daily.

"Ms.(Y/L/N)", she sighed, the papers in her hands crumbling upon the weight she pressured as her fingers tightly enveloped around them. "Your behaviour is one I have previously spoken to you about. I believe that we came to an agreement that a few more faulty decisions would lead to another detention, am I correct?"

You didn't dare to meet her eyes with your own, and you instead lowered them to the shoes of your uniform as you fiddled with the sleeves of your robes. The fact that you were constantly in trouble with the head of your house was talk that often found its way amongst the other students. It was unknown from where, but sources last year had even spread the rumour that you had been closer than ever to leaving the school permanently— until your furious father had informed the headmaster that incidents like the previous ones would never occur again during your last few years at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

But you had already been handed a detention during the first night of returning the following term— the first term of Year 6.

"I thought so.", you heard Professor McGonagall tsk under her breath, violently picking a sheet of paper from her giant pile and handing it to you with a slight shove. "I expect to see you present in my lesson this afternoon, Ms.(Y/L/N)."

You didn't dare to look up from the floor until the echo of her heels had completely vanished from your field of sound. Crumbling the sheet of paper that contained your schedule for the year, you furiously turned around to sit back down— your tongue pressing to the inside of your cheek to prevent any curses to be thrown in the path of your Professor.

"You kind of did deserve that.", Taehyung stated honestly as he picked at his long fingers, his dark eyes meeting yours for only a split second before glancing down at his untouched plate of breakfast.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate you?", you looked at him, cocking your eyebrows upwards as you awaited an answer— though the only one you received was a short and soft chuckle escaping his tinted lips.

Jimin frowned, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched Professor McGonagall walk down the hall to the staff table, handing each student the schedule on her way. His innocent eyes snapped to your face, where he slowly exhaled a breath that he'd most likely been holding onto whilst the Professor had been scolding you.

"(Y/N).. maybe you should try and lay low for a while.", he said softly, scanning your face as you turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow in question. "I mean, it hasn't even been a day and you've already gotten into a bit of trouble. Maybe you should just.. you know.. stay out of the spotlight for a while?"

"Right..", you answered slowly, nodding your head along your own words. "Right, lay low— I can do that— "

You were cut off by a rough snort from Taehyung, and you abruptly turned your head in his direction.

"Can you fucking stay out of this? You're not a part of this conversation.", you growled, sighing loudly and then turning back to Jimin.

"No fucking manners."

About to explode of rage with words that you had wanted to spew to Taehyung's face for a long period of time, you were stopped by the loud chanting of laughter that broke out across the Great Hall. The entirety of the Gryffindor table looked around in confusion for the source of the sound, and you weren't surprised by the faces that met yours at the other end of the Hall.

The Slytherin table.

But you caught onto that one particular face quickly, your eyebrows narrowing angrily to the point where you swore they met your nose. His black hair parted where it met his forehead, and his sharp features highlighted his face as it shone in the natural light of the early morning that gleamed in through the tall windows. He sat in the center crowd of his friends, but even then you managed to spot him as clearly as you'd done all those past years.

If there was one person you hated more than anyone, it was definitely Jeon Jungkook.

You'd always hated him— ever since you’d come face to face with his obnoxious ego. In all honesty, the two of you had gotten along quite well when you'd travelled on the Hogwarts Express together for your first year. You had spoken to one another, and you'd bonded quite fondly as a result of the similarities in interests and family— though that had all changed the moment he had been sorted into Slytherin house and you, into Gryffindor. That was when he had stopped speaking to you, and his true loathsome personality had made its appearance.

He disgusted you.

Jungkook watched you, his lips pulled into a cocky smirk as he joined his friends in the snickering. Your hands balled into tight fists, crumbling the schedule in your grip to a crushed ball— and the urge to throw it in the direction of his head was one you had to bury out of concern, as Jimin had told you to lay low.

And laying low meant to not give in to Jeon Jungkook's ego.

That boy only wanted two things; Admiration and high prestige, though he also enjoyed messing with people's heads, yours in particular after the incidents that you two had gone through during your first year— the ones you pretended had never happened. Because it was an embarrassment to admit that you used to enjoy being around Jeon Jungkook.

Used to— not anymore. And never again.

”Have I ever told you how you look like a fucking egg?”

Slowly narrowing your eyes, you turned your expression to Taehyung as heat rose to your face out of rage and fury.

”You must be fucking kidding me.”, you muttered under your breath, cracking your knuckles underneath the table.

At the sight of your expression, his face lit up into a bright smirk— and he hastily pushed himself from the table the same second that you did, sprinting out of the Great Hall with you at his feet.

Jimin’s rough sigh was the last that you heard after you and Taehyung left through the open doors of the Great Hall, your laughter echoing along the abandoned, morning corridors of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

”Okay, but seriously", Taehyung sighed, his footsteps pounding as they made contact with the floor tiles. "You're not as intimidating as you think you are."

You tried your best not to glare at him with furious eyes, but instead balled your clammy hands into tight fists at your side that prevented any blood from flowing through your veins. You could only imagine the cocky and punch-worthy expression that had spread across his already smug face, and decided against glancing at him from the corner of your eyes.

You only tilted your head up from the ground when the sound of chatter rose amongst the two of you— the moment you set foot into the first lesson of the term. Majority of the students stood in groups by various rows of desks as they spoke to one another regarding friendships, summer loves and how unnecessary they felt it was to return back to school.

There only seemed to exist a small and limited amount of students who sat quietly in their seats, dazing or glaring off in dread at the ongoing chatter that never appeared to come to an end.

You turned and looked over at Taehyung, who seemed to search the classroom for a particular face. You did not quite know who he was looking for— if it possibly was someone from Ravenclaw house who had History of Magic with you first thing in the morning.

Before you’d completely had the possibility to ask Taehyung out of curiosity, he pivoted forward and slipped into an empty seat beside Jimin— who you recognized from the pale blonde hair that fell over his bright eyes.

With a sour expression on your face, you turned your body around in many directions in search of a vacant seat next to someone— anyone, as you weren’t picky when it came to your fellow students. Especially not the Ravenclaw’s, as they were normally kind and welcoming to the students in your house— which was a factor that you admired dearly.

Therefore, you settled down beside a tall and slim boy whose long slanted eyes were glued to the open book that rested between each of his balled hands. The matte blue badge on his uniform informed you of his position as Prefect, which with slight intimidation caused you to avert your eyes elsewhere.

You couldn’t prevent yourself from moving your sight between each of the packed rows of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students that scattered across the floorboards of the classroom, but as your eyes drifted to the desk behind your own, your eyes locked with the black orbs belonging to Taehyung.

He seemed to have already been watching you from behind, his head tilted slightly to the right which caused the bangs of his silver hair to fall over his eyes. As you stared at him through silence, a quick yet gentle smile tugged at each end of his downturned lips— which at that moment didn’t contain his usually mocking demeanor.

“Welcome, welcome!”, the ringing of Professor Cuthbert Binns voice woke you without startle, and you slowly turned your body back to face the blackboard before you, as the first introductory lesson of term began.

Your heels pounded against the floor tiles of the third floor corridors as you hurried to catch up with the body pacing in front of you, the fury that boiled in your blood heating the cheeks of your face.

“Taehyung!”, you hissed through your gritted teeth as you stopped ahead of him, crossing your robed arms across your chest.

He stopped as he noticed you, his slender hands stuffed into the pockets of the pants of his uniforms, the absence of his robes outlining his slim body that towered over your own as his face tipped down to look over you.

“You!—”, your hands pressed into his chest with a hefty force which only caused him to raise his prominent eyebrows. “You’re the reason those points got taken away!”

“Oh come on Y/N, don’t come at me with this shit.”, you didn’t expect the rough chuckle that escaped his parted lips— or the smug smile that spread across his face. “Have I ever mentioned how adorable you are when you’re frustrated?”

As you cocked your head to the side with a strained smile, you lifted one of your fingers to bop the tip of his pale nose in a mocking manner. As you caught him slightly off guard, your smile dropped along your poise. “In that case you’ll think I’m even more adorable when I beat the crap out of you, asshole—“

Your face collided with the arm of your fellow Gryffindor when a sudden individual forced past you without sensibility, Taehyung stumbling backwards which prevented your fall. After stabilizing yourself, you hastily tipped your head to the side to watch the student who had pushed past you as he walked away, and you scoffed under your breath as you recognized the face of the boy who’d shared your table during History of Magic; the reason you’d gotten points taken away from Gryffindor.

It had been an accident, of course— as all you had necessarily done was watch the boy beside you as he contributed to the class throughout the lesson and successfully managed his studies, which was a struggle you constantly had found yourself ground to. When he had carefully moved past you through the silence of the working students with his finished work, you couldn’t have prevented your jaw from dropping to the floor.

The dumbfounded look that had settled upon your face hadn’t been missed by Taehyung, who had tapped you violently on the shoulder to agitate your blank mind. As a natural instinct, you had spun to get a conscious reply to what he wanted, and he had scoffed at the irritated image before him.

“Chill your ass, Y/N— I just wanted to assure you that there’s no reason to feel like a dumbfuck compared to him.”, he jerked his chin towards the direction of the Ravenclaw boy who stood and spoke to Professor Binns with his hands held behind his straightened back. “Namjoon’s literally the smartest kid here.”

Taehyung lowered his eyes from your face as he picked up his quill with a swift movement of his hands, continuing to answer the questions that stood written on the blackboard. His face twisted into a strange expression as he muttered in a tone that was only intended for you to hear, “But they say he’s clumsy— apparently he isn’t as perfect as he seems to be.”

You snickered to yourself before you turned back around, but your heart skipped a beat as your widened eyes locked on to the hovering body of your Professor, who stood— eh, floated— whilst shaking his head in disapproval. His lips pressed into a thin line as he surveyed you, completely oblivious to Taehyung who had engaged in the conversation. You couldn’t help but notice how the silence that had previously been directed towards each individuals work, seemed to have grown heavier and instead aimed in your direction.

“I heard Professor McGonagall’s scold this morning, Ms.(Y/L/N)— and I haven’t failed to catch the many detentions you have been assigned.”, you sunk low into your seat as Professor Binns spoke, the hollow eyes of the Ravenclaw boy, Namjoon, boring into your face from behind the Professor’s translucent body.

“Therefore I do not have any other form of punishment for you, Ms.(Y/L/N), than to rid points from Gryffindor house.”, He watched you for a couple of long seconds before turning back to the blackboard. “Continue working, students. This should be finished by the end of the lesson.”

You slowly turned back to threateningly glare at the boy behind you, but his attention was completely directed at the work that Professor Bins had assigned— though as you caught the look of disappointment on Jimin’s soft face, you didn’t dare cast your sight towards any of the other Gryffindors.

Taehyung muttered a line of incoherent words under his breath, which caused you to shift your attention from the silhouette of Namjoon that grew further and further from your view range with each of his heavy steps. You hurriedly moved away from the boy beside you, swallowing the words of fury that threatened to pour from your lips with a single part.

“Get your shit together, Y/N.”, you felt your head forcefully move slightly to the right as Taehyung’s large hands pressed against your temple mockingly, moving past you with a stride of steps.

You lifted your hand to where he had touched your head, your nose scrunching as you watched him stroll down the corridor towards his next lesson beside the outline of another one of the many students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The day drained longer than any other you had previously experienced, and seemed to be an intentional deed executed by your Professors in order to torturously make you rethink your choice of continuing your education. Yes, you weren’t going to lie that returning to school was something that you had many times contemplated, but every moment you considered speaking of the subject with your parents they began spewing just how proud they were that you had almost finished your education— and that soon enough the time would come for, as they called it, ‘adulting’. It was enough to send you running back to Hogwarts.

You hadn’t muted a single word to Taehyung since the encounter after the History of Magics lesson— though you weren’t completely sure whether that was a positive factor or not. Even though he was a complete ass, Taehyung, Jimin and you had always been a close trio, and not being on speaking terms with one another was a strange event in itself.

You tried not think too much of it as the day slowly moved past, but as the first day of lessons began reaching its peaking end, you couldn’t take the lasting silence anymore. Therefore, as you entered the the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor for your final lesson of the day, your immediate intention was to seat yourself beside Taehyung.

Identifying the back of his head from the entrance at the end of the room that was packed with students bearing red and green uniforms, turned out to be harder than expected— and you had to push yourself past several rows of crowding packs of faces that sent you looks of disgust to find the Gryffindor you were searching for.

You stopped near the middle row as your eyes locked on the outline of the boy you were searching for— but the seat that you had hoped to be vacant beside him was occupied by a bubbly taller girl with straight, brown hair that was tightly pulled to the top of her head in a ponytail. What caught you off guard wasn’t the girl herself, but instead the green badge that sat atop her robe to represent the house that she belonged to.

The vibration of the door as it slammed shut made you aware of the presence of your Professor, and you were left with no other choice— the fists at your side clenching unintentionally as you glanced around yourself for a seat, a moment that you had found yourself experiencing far too many times in one single day. As you turned in various directions, you jumped when you came face to face with the body of Professor Rakepick standing before you, bearing a pile of books in her hands.

You cowered backwards, apologizing with a quick bow of your head before you moved in the direction of the first seat you laid your eyes upon— which turned out to be at the furthest back of the classroom beside a boy whose chin was leaned against the palm of his hand as he stared emptily at the head direct of his view.

Hesitantly, you placed your notebooks and essentials down on the surface of the desk, settling beside the Slytherin boy in stiff movements— which signalled Professor Rakepick to begin the lecture. As she spoke, her words flowing in a fluent manner about the upcoming lessons and what she expected from each individual, she moved past the first rows of desks that lined the space between the students and the teaching grounds.

Scribbles lined the pages in your notebook as you noted the words that your Professor spoke, but you couldn’t help yourself from stealing a glance at the boy beside you between each pause of words. The vast emptiness in his black eyes gave off a fierce aura that made you move towards the edge of your seat, further and further from him in slight intimidation. You noticed the notebooks and quill that lay untouched at the corner of his end of the desk, and you frowned in dissatisfaction at him— but you promptly moved your attention to the Professor the second that the boy’s eyes rose from their stare to yours, a cold shudder running through your body.

The students scattered across the classroom turned their heads in union to glance at the doors to the room as they flew open, a pair of hurried steps pounding against the floorboards until they came to a stop inside. Professor Rakepick stopped mid sentence as she noticed the figure, her mouth hanging open as she blinked rapidly— confusion written across her face.

You recognized the Professor who had entered the classroom as the Herbology teacher, Professor Sprout, whose full cheeks were lined with clammy sweat and flashes of red. Her breaths were heavy as she settled her eyes on the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, her brown eyes wide with concern.

“I am terribly sorry for intruding so suddenly, Patricia— but the other teachers and I need your help now.”, she spoke quickly between each of her breaths, and you furrowed your brows in bewilderment as you glanced between her and your Professor. “It's regarding a student.”

At the last words, Professor Rakepick’s eyes grew wide— as if she instantly understood who Professor Sprout seemed to be implying.

“Ah yes.. no worries, Pomona—“, the Professor up front turned to her desk to set down The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, before glancing across the faces distributed along each rows of desks. “I will return shortly— begin answering the questions on the board after you have finished your note taking.”

Without any seconds to waste, the faces of Professor Rakepick and Professor Sprout disappeared through the entrance to the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom.

The instant that the doors slammed shut at the hands of your Professor, a loud chorus of voices erupted in the narrow space of the classroom. At that moment, you knew that the noise wouldn’t die down until the return of Professor Rakepick, and you sighed in slight frustration as you let your quill fall to your open notebook in defeat.

Fine, let’s all just not give a fuck then.

“Yoongi!”, a voice called from the row to your left.

You stiffened the second that recognition kicked in.

Jungkook.

The Slytherin boy beside you— Yoongi— lazily lifted his eyes in the direction of Jungkook, irritation made apparent as he raised one of his eyebrows in question.

“You on for Friday?!”, Jungkook’s voice grew louder as he called for his housemate seated beside you, the voices in the classroom raising with each passing moment.

Yoongi let out a deep sigh of frustration as he straightened his posture, pressing his lips together as he contemplated his answer.

“Depends.”

“Don’t be that little fucker, Yoongs— it’ll be fun.”

“Because of that nickname I’m definitely not showing up. Good luck organizing it on your own, asshole—”, Yoongi’s words were cut off by the rough chuckle of Jungkook, who tipped his head to the right in a cocky manner whilst his eyes travelled to someone else— you.

“You can come too, Y/N.”

You raised your eyes to him, your nose scrunching as you watched the broad smirk that spread across his tinted lips.

“I’m not even going to pretend like I know what you’re talking about.”, you replied coolly, shrugging your shoulders at the end of your words.

“It’s— what should I call it.. a little gathering in the Slytherin common room.”, he added nothing more before he turned his body from the direction of Yoongi and your desk back to the blackboard.

You narrowed your brows as your eyes lingered on Jungkook, but you didn’t dare turn to Yoongi as you felt his eyes burn the back of your head with bitterness. You slowly lowered your sight from the boy to your left and instead focused on your hands that were balled into tight fists— your knuckles pale from the lack of circulation.

A shaky breath was exhaled before you picked up the quill from the clottered page of your notebook, slowly continuing your initiated notes that mirrored the teacher’s previous words.

The fork that you held in your hand picked at the food that occupied your plate that same evening. The sky that clouded the outside of the windows in the Great Hall had faded from its earlier grey state into a dark, gloomy shade of blue that trickled with twinkling stars. The sound of exhausted yet cheerful students filled the Hall as everyone dug into the food before them, sharing tales and complaints about the first day of term.

Laughter was a common sound that echoed amongst the Gryffindor table, particularly in the presence of the triangular position that you, Taehyung and Jimin always sat in. They were seats that the three of you had claimed yours since the year that you had first arrived at Hogwarts, and even to this day you refused to sit elsewhere.

You caught quick glimpses and patches of sentences from the conversation that was ongoing between your closest friends which regarded the ‘student incident’ that had come up during the Defence against the Dark Arts lesson. Taehyung had heard from a couple of the other Gryffindors in your year that a Hufflepuff named Hoseok had developed a really serious panic attack during Herbology, which resulted in him passing out in the midst of the ongoing lesson. You, on the other hand, had no interest in the topic of discussion as you didn’t find it humorous at all.

You just felt bad for that Hoseok kid.

“Why so quiet, Y/N?”, Taehyung’s soothing voice caught your attention as you averted your gaze to his face after setting down your eating attire. “Don’t you always have something to add?”

He looked at you with his familiarly forced yet innocent smile that covered his pale lips, and he unexpectedly bopped your nose with the back of his metal fork which made you scoff grumpily.

Your expression didn’t soften with any of his motions, and you simply stared at him with narrowed eyebrows before you returned to poking at the vegetables that were piled on your plate.

“I’m still mad at you for being so butthurt earlier.”, you muttered silently in response, which earned a deep laugh from his end.

“Cute,Y/N, but this isn’t a pity party.”

Taehyung continued to nag you throughout the majority of the dinner, which you consistently tried to stop by threateningly pointing your knife in his direction— but that move was quickly prevented by Jimin, who harshly told you not to joke about tossing knives at one another. Taehyung, on the other hand, found your replies amusing, and seemed to have no interest in calming his teasing anytime soon.

You had come to a point where your patience was running low, and the irritation that boiled in your blood readied you to spew curses in his direction— but you stopped yourself as you noticed the fall of Taehyung’s smile once his gentle eyes settled on a shadow that towered behind you and Jimin. He lowered the fork in his hand that he had used to teasingly poke you with, straightening his back and leaning his weight on his arms that he settled on the surface of the table.

Curious, both you and Jimin turned to glance over your shoulders at the student behind you, and at the sight of the familiar face, your lips pressed into a thin line.

It was the same girl who had sat next to Taehyung during the Defence against the Dark Arts lesson, and she smiled brightly as her eyes met his. Taehyung stiffly waved at her, and she took it as an invitation to begin speaking.

“Hey— sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I forgot to ask you earlier if you maybe wanted to meet and go through our notes later this week..”, her voice was calm yet persistent, and you turned your body away from her to continue glaring at your untouched food.

“Yeah— Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Okay, good— see you on friday!”, you assumed that she bid him goodbye as he waved in her direction, and continued to stare silently at her passing figure before she had returned to the Slytherin table.

A short silence lasted over your trio before you leaned over the table to hit the top of Taehyung’s head with a hard force— and he called out in surprise at the sudden action whilst rubbing at the area.

“What the fuck was that for?!”

“You’re an idiot, giving into that girl.”, you earned a nod of agreement from Jimin, who glanced between the two of you as you spoke. “She’s a typical Slytherin, Tae— and you know that.”

“You don’t even know her.”, he grumbled under his breath, avoiding eye contact as he straightened his back and picked up his fork to begin eating the cold food on his plate.

You laughed at his words, shaking your head in amusement. “Okay, okay— my bad.”

You snapped your head in the direction of Jimin, who simply raised his eyebrows in surprise at the words that left Taehyung’s lips.

“He’s been infected, Chim— he’s gone for good.”, you shook your head in sorrow. “I guess it’s just the two of us from now on.”

“Ha ha— so funny.”, Taehyung rolled his eyes at you, which only resulted in you glancing over at him with a skeptical raise of your brows. “Aren’t you one of the biggest supporters of the term ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’?—“

“Don’t use that shit against me, traitor—“

“Did she invite you to that party on Friday?”, Jimin asked, speaking over you out of pure disrespect.

Your expression faltered as you watched Taehyung slowly nod his head, chewing at his food with the corners of his mouth— though his eyes weren’t focused on Jimin, but were instead fixed on you.

You force a tight smile after he swallowed his food, leaning your chin to the palm of your hand as you spoke.

“I’m happy for you, Tae. I mean, I couldn’t have imagined anyone better to suit your charming personality.”, the sarcasm in your voice earned a scoff from Taehyung, as well as burning eyes of disapproval from Jimin. “I guess I’ll see you at that party.”

Taehyung stiffened at your words, his jaw clenched as he stopped chewing at the food in his mouth.

“You’re going?”, he seemed to be on the verge of laughter.

“You think I’m lying?”, you cocked your eyebrows upwards, scoffing at his response.

“Well—“

“He invited you?!”, the gasp that left Jimin caused you to jump in surprise, and for a single moment you were utterly confused as to who he was talking about. “That dickhead—”

Nope. You were completely aware of who he was talking about.

Taehyung had the appeal of a lost puppy as he glanced between you and Jimin, raising his hands in frustration.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Jungkook!— you fucking oblivious cow—”, Jimin hissed, his hands perched upon the surface of the table as if to forfeit his message to the dumbfounded boy in front of him.

At the mention of the Slytherin boy, the Gryffindor table fell into complete silence. A silence that was soon followed in confusion by the nearest table that belonged to the Hufflepuff students.

You exhaled a long breath as you closed your eyes heatedly, burying your face in your hands. You could only picture the smug look on said boy’s face across the opposite end of the Great Hall, and your face heated at the horrifying thought.

“Jungkook?!”, Taehyung spat the name with absolute disgust, almost choking on his own words as he tried to contain his anger.

As you slowly lowered your clammy hands from your face, you glanced at the boy before you with an inability to mute any words of response. You pushed yourself to a standing position despite the eyes that bore into you from all possible directions of the Hall— in particular the ones of your closest friends. Grabbing the straps of your bag, you hoisted it over your right shoulder before forcefully bringing your eyes to meet Taehyung’s.

“Fuck off.”, you managed to heave the words with a tone of disgust, casting a lingering glimpse in the direction of Jimin before you turned on your heel and left the Great Hall, the eyes of your peers burning your back through each drifting motion.

128 notes · View notes

sad-af1121 · 7 years ago

Text

Everybody Knows: Part 2/2

Summary: Steve couldn’t keep up with his relationship, always putting you second and ignoring what you needed. The world came first and so did the shield. You two fell out of love, there was no point in saving it as you grew tired. Even after you tried and tried, only to fail. After your departure, Steve now realizes his mistakes and he needs you more than ever, but you’re not his anymore. Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader T’Challa x Reader Word Count: 2606 Warnings: ANGST, a flashback, language, more heartache, Tony being extra this time. A/N: Thank you for everyone being patient! This is part 2 for @jurassicbarnes Winter Writing Challenge! Sentence prompt “I wish I’d never met you.” “Just give me a chance. Please.” Also, Ed Sheeran’s Perfect is mentioned in this fic, so y’all can listen to it at that part :’) Feedback is welcomed 💜

“Steve,” You say, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, flabbergasted to see him after the breakup. It’s only been a few months, the sting in your heart remains.

“I didn’t know you came back.” Steve breathes, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His expression was unreadable, mixed between discomfort and relief.

A lump forms in his throat, making it hard to swallow down the fear. When you broke it off, Steve refused to see you, shutting you out and not giving you the gratification of having the last word. Yet a miserable weight lifted off his shoulders, hoping something good would come out of this encounter. Maybe you’ll understand why he couldn’t see you or talk. However, the flutter in his stomach returned, palms beginning to sweat while his cheeks grew pink like the first time he met you.

“No. I came back to grab the remaining of my things. And had some S.H.I.E.L.D. things to take care of.” You say awkwardly and cold, swaying side to side while avoiding his eyes. Your chest tightens, guilt forming in your gut. You saw how his eyes lightened with optimism again, but it quickly diminishes, that hope he’s holding on by a thread breaking.

You weren’t planning to see Steve at the tower, especially this late in the night. It was as if you two were given one final test to see if things changed since your departure. Or if he had at all.

“Oh.” Was all Steve could say. Disappointment laced his features and tone. He felt his heart shrivel up into a ball, the thought of mending the relationship flew out the window now. You were going back no matter what, you were set on it. Even if he showed interest.

“Thought I’d have a chance to talk things out. Work on us but that ship’s been sailed for a long time huh?” He chuckles bitterly, scratching his beard. You clench your jaw at his words, sick and tired of his lack of care.

“Look, whatever happened- is in the past now. I gave you multiple chances to fix us but you’re too stubborn, Steve. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. I gave you all of me while I struggled for you.” You blurt with anger, noticing his demeanor change in a flash like a whiny child whose plaything has been taken away. Every emotion and thought you had about the situation resurfaced, making your blood boil. You had enough and needed him to hear the ache he contributed to.

“Our relationship was amazing in the beginning. But what happened Steve? Did I do something wrong? Did you stop loving me?” Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t stop. Your wounds were severe, everlasting.

Every word that soared out of your mouth stabbed Steve in the chest, the pain twisting and turning like a pierced blade in his flesh. Finally, he could see what he did to you, blame and sorrow drenching his being as his heart continued to shrink until he could feel it breaking.

“If I wasn’t enough, why didn’t you just leave me instead of breaking me apart!? I loved you, Steve! Did you!?” You cry out, dropping your bag to the ground as it echoes with your voice in the vast empty hallway. Your chest heaves heavily, your eyes searching for something in his. “Why didn’t you save us? Why couldn’t I’ve been important to you?” Your voice cracks, hanging in your head in exhaustion.

You were desperate for answers.

“You are, Y/N. I love you so much.” He says quietly, releasing a shaky sigh, his own eyes watering. He wishes he could give you answers but he can’t. They refuse to come out. “You don’t think I knew I wasn’t giving you enough attention? You were always in the back of my mind if I wasn’t around you. There wasn’t one day where I didn’t wish I could drop everything to be with you. To get away from everything but -“

“But you’re Captain America, right? Can’t step away.” You remind him. “I bet Peggy felt the same way when you left her.” You spit, words burning a hole within.

Steve’s mouth drops, baffled by your attitude. He takes a second to control the anger fueling inside, running his hands through his hair. Never did he thought you’d hit a blow that low. “This isn’t fair, Y/N. I’m tryin’.” His tone comes out small, almost inaudible.

“There’s no point.” You whisper, whipping the tears that trickled down your cheeks. Picking up your bag, you drape the strap over your shoulder before looking Steve dead in the eyes.

“I wish I’d never meet you.” The words bite as you walk past him, gripping the strap tightly as you fight the urge to break down. Steve quickly turns, speed walking to catch up to you.

“J-just give me a chance. Please.” He says hopelessly. You ignore him, running out the building where your car waits for you.

Goodbye, Steven.

“Steve. Steve!”

“Huh.” Steve shifts away from his daze, eyes moving from you to Natasha.

“You alright?” She asks, her eyes darting between the two.

Steve doesn’t answer, looking back to see the royal highness himself, King T’Challa. His hand is interlocked with yours, passion radiating off the pair. Your smile was something he hadn’t seen in a long time, a twinkle shining in your eyes. He’s convinced you’ve found your soulmate or else you wouldn’t look this stunning and in love.

He knows that look very well.

Everyone’s in awe, star-stricken by the beautiful couple. It makes sense, T’Challa has heart and strength- determination. He can balance his love life and duty better than Steve ever could. If you hadn’t learned from Steve, you wouldn’t be with T’Challa. You knew he had more responsibility than any man did, however, you probably were cautious before perusing any form of relationship.

Apart from Steve wishes it wasn’t true, but how could it not?

You were finally happy. He’s content with the thought of someone else giving it to you because he failed.

“We can leave if you want? If anyone asks, we’ll tell them you weren’t feeling the party.” Natasha says concern etched on her face. Sam and Bucky keep their eyes on the unannounced couple, making sure you don’t look their way. They’d be the first to protect Steve, vowing the code of valued friendship.

“Nah, guys. I’m good. What’s in the past, stays there right?” Steve smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Praying they’ll take his nonchalant attitude and not care to think he might be hurting with you being here. Staying strong was all he got.

C’mon you can do this. It’s been 4 years. It’s time to move on.

Nat, Sam, and Bucky nod in defeat. With the years you were gone, they stuck by Steve’s side, trying their best to make him whole again. You left him broken- tearing down his confidence and self-image. He thought himself as a monster, no humanity whatsoever. He constantly thought if he could ever love again. Peggy was first then you. Who’d be the next victim? All because of his own mistakes.

They can see tonight, Steve wants to forget and distract himself as he sits back down, turning away from the commotion and orders another drink. Little did they know, Steve kept a flask of Asgardian Mead in his pocket whenever he needed a little pick me up.

He pours the liquid into his beer bottle before downing it whole, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Bucky sighs, taking his seat as do everyone else.

The night goes on as expected. Nat stepped away to catch up with you, she had nothing against you. She’s still your close friend and teammate even if you weren’t working at the tower. She was thrilled to talk yet Steve was bolted to the back of her mind.

Sam and Bucky kept their distance after you stopped them on the way to the bathroom. They felt awkward nonetheless showed their respect as they embraced you in a hug. They missed having you around, especially to beat their asses on the mat.

Steve admired you from afar. Smiling whenever he could from hearing one of your mission stories. Excitement sprung within you like a child. You had a voice and it was being heard by everyone in the room. Not getting overlooked anymore. Every person knew how much you had changed over the years, proud of your accomplishments and to call you their friend. Steve was just proud to have met a strong and beautiful woman as yourself. Reminding him what he truly loves.

You.

He can feel the mead running through his veins, the warmth throughout his body. It’s tingling, relaxing each and every fiber of his being. The more he drinks, the more he’s getting closer to you, coming to his senses. He doesn’t want to hate you because he doesn’t. He still loves you, craving for the girl he met 8 years ago. The girl who would dance in the shower and sing on the top of her lungs. The girl who’d attempt to cook but opt out for ordering take out. The girl who’d set aside a bird’s nest in a middle of a chase down by drug dealers.

Steve needed you, regardless if you were his or not. You’d always be in his heart.

Darting to the bathroom, Steve splashes cold water on his face, thinking up ways to talk to you. He wasn’t scared anymore, he had to face this. Grabbing a towel, he dries off before taking a deep breath and walking out the men’s room. He looks around, seeing you’re with Nat and Wanda while Sam and Buck are with Scott, trying to convince him to shrink Tony.

T’Challa’s with Thor and Bruce, the perfect time to have some alone time with you. Crossing his fingers, he takes his steps towards you, nerves wrecked to the point where he might faint. The corner of Steve’s lips can’t help but curve into a smirk as he watches you struggle with latching the hook to your necklace. You never asked for help, waiting for someone to do it for you. Steve remembers the many times he’d do that, and you’d kiss his nose right after as a thank you.

“Hey, Captain Crunch! Come here for a sec!”

Steve stops abruptly, almost knocking over one of the caterers, swiftly turning and cursing under his breath, Tony calling him over. His eyes meet T’Challa, giving him a tight smile. Steve makes his way to the group of men.

“T’Challa.” Steve nods, placing his hand out.

“Steve Rogers. It is nice to finally talk to you tonight. I was starting to sense you did not want to.” T’Challa admits, shaking his hand firmly, a knowing brow raised.

Steve clears his throat, taken aback. “Oh no, not at all. I wanted to wait till you were alone. Didn’t want to steal your spotlight. Since you’ve taken majority of it.”

Tony and Bruce choke on their drinks as T’Challa chuckles lightly, ignoring Steve’s passive aggressiveness, “My apologies. I thought you knew we were coming tonight. No worries.” He nods, pursing his lips.

There’s a moment of silence, the atmosphere growing awkward. T’Challa looks over to you, smiling and clears his throat, grabbing everyone’s attention, “Y/N is really happy to be back, Tony. I want to thank you for doing this for us.”

Tony grins, waving it off. “She’s family, just like you’re about to be. It would be rude if I didn’t arrange all this.” He gestures around the room.

Knitting his brows together, Steve tries to understand what Tony meant by that, curiosity gracing his features. What? Did I miss something?

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I wanna catch up with Y/N before she leaves,” Steve informs, stepping away. It’s now or never, and time is slipping out of his precious fingers.

“Oh shit! T’Challa it's time!” Tony exclaims, pushing T’Challa’s back towards the dance floor. Steve turns around, stopping in his tracks once again.

“Sorry, Steven. You’ll have to catch up after this.” T’Challa informs, getting dragged by Tony and disappearing into the ocean of the mass.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Steve groans, running his fingers through his hair. Looking around the room, he doesn’t spot you, clenching his jaw as he throws his hands in the air. “Great.”

Sam and Bucky walk up behind Steve, nudging his shoulders, “You good?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, no.” Steve sighs. “I’m tryin’ to get a hold of Y/N so I can talk to her. But I keep gettin’ distracted. Fucken annoyed.”

Bucky snorts, “Dude she’s right there. Go.” He points in the direction as Steve’s eyes follow. You’re near the DJ booth, wondering why there’s so much commotion around it. It was like they were about to announce the king and queen of homecoming.

“Thanks, man.” Steve smiles, patting Bucky’s shoulder as he pushes through the crowd, determined to get to you.

“Alright everyone, settle down! Our lovely King here has an announcement to make. Would Y/N L/N please come to the center of the floor.” Tony beams, gripping the microphone.

Once again Steve halts, given a clear view of the two. Everyone is enclosed around them, whispering to one another with smirks and excited giggles. Observing his surroundings, Steve keeps his eyes trained on you, never daring to pull them off. Ed Sheeran’s Perfect is playing in the background, the light becoming dimmer, the room coming to a silence. From the looks of it, Steve can tell what’s about to happen, his chest tightening, heaving.

Slowly, Steve’s gravitating into reality, a great loss occurring in front of his eyes. At this point, all memories connected to you are bitter-sweet. He’s remembering all the good times, reliving them in his mind as he watches you cover your mouth with your hand, the other encased in T’Challa’s. Steve can feel the pillars of his strength tumble down, noticing the King getting on one knee. Like an insatiable fire that burnt all the oxygen in his body, leaving him listless and empty, Steve slowly retracts away. The sting in his eyes hurt, his vision coming to a blur.

“Will you marry me, Y/N L/N?”

An inaudible sob leaves Steve’s mouth, body in shock as it shakes. The world is coming to an end, or so it feels. Those words are a gentle reminder of the pain that came with loving you. He’s supposed to be there, asking you to be his. Not some other guy.

“Yes.” You exhale, turning your head as your gaze meets familiar blue-green eyes that once held love, now replaced with a growing grey cloud, full of agony. Your breath hitches in your throat, tears spilling out of your eyes, wishing you could have Steve back again, but your heart isn’t ready for another inferno. It’s ready to move on.

With a slight nod, Steve continues to walk backwards, careless that he’s bumping into people. It’s becoming hard to breathe and you’re so desperately trying to, yet it’s useless. The room suffocates the two of you, strangling your throats as time stops, paralyzing your body. You want to pull away, explain yourself to Steve nevertheless he knows.

He ran out of time.

Your eyes never leave Steve’s until his back hits the door, the bright colored Exit sign casting over his head. With one last look, Steve’s out the door.

Forever, out of your life.

Goodbye Y/N.

PERM TAGS: @thatawkwardtinyperson @jezzula @finallybreathee @plumfondler @atari-writes @angryschnauzer @badassbaker @papi-chulo-bucky @amrita31199 @cumonbucky @soldatbarnes @random-fandom-girl20-deactivate @lostinspace33 @feelthemusicfuckwhatheyresaying @rda1989 @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt @melconnor2007 @feelmyroarrrr @iamsooooohappy @elaacreditava @broken-pieces @ms-potts-to-you @hardcollectiontrashworld @i-kneel-for-king-loki @hufflevirgoclaw @curvybihufflepuff @saharzek @charliexowrite @valkyeries @retroasgardian @chrisevanshh @palaiasaurus64 @secondsandstars @megs4real @isaxhorror @geeksareunique @negans-only-wife @titty-teetee

FIC TAGS: @projectxhappiness @sarahp879 @teresaoliva20 @whooolemilk @ria2710 @gigi-xavier @weird-dee @ladydragonpurplefire @adriana-sweet-buckyboo @llamaandi

(permanent tag list is open)

539 notes · View notes

marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer · 7 years ago

Text

MTVS Epic Rewatch #183

BTVS 7x04 Help

Stray thoughts

1) I feel that season 7 had started on the right foot, and Help is one of the prime examples of that. Hardly ever were MOW episodes the most memorable of the show, albeit a few exceptions that include unique premises and/or demons (Hush, OMWF.) But I feel Help is definitely one of the strongest episodes of the season. It is in no small part because of Cassie Newton. And let’s be real, how often is the victim more memorable than the monster? The actress who plays Cassie does a marvelous job of playing the “woe is me” type without being obnoxious, which is quite the feat. Instead, Cassie comes off as sensitive, intuitive, empathetic, and, unfortunately, doomed. But I think the real reason this episode works so well is how Cassie’s predicament mirrors Buffy’s, and ultimately, how Cassie is just yet another person of the countless Buffy feels she failed to help. But more on that later.

2) The montage of Buffy trying to counsel the kids is pretty neat because they kind of nailed their different reactions to being counseled. You’ve got Amanda, who’s honest and opens up immediately and kind of welcomes Buffy’s pieces of advice. Then the douche (who also played a douche in VM, btw…) who is basically just a douche. And the kid who doesn’t want to talk and just stares at her. And then there’s Buffy, who kind of doesn’t know what to do with any of them, regardless of their attitude.

XANDER I bet she's giving them great advice.

WILLOW Absolutely! Those kids are lucky to have Buffy looking out for them.

That’s sweet! Especially considering Xander and Willow are having this conversation on their own. They’re being 100% honest.

4) Willow’s timid and insecure demure is such a welcome change from her almighty and overconfident demeanor in season 6. And it’s an arc that eventually pays off.

WILLOW I don't know what I can do. I mean, frankly, I'm scared of what I might do.

XANDER Yeah, I get that. Figuring out how to control your magic seems a lot like hammering a nail. Well, uh, hear me out. So you're hammering, right? OK, well at the end of the hammer, you have the power, but no control. It takes, like, two strokes to hit the nail in, or you could hit your thumb.

WILLOW Ouch.

XANDER So you choke up. Control, but no power. It could take like ten strokes to knock the nail in. Power, control. It's a tradeoff.

WILLOW That's actually not a bad analogy.

XANDER Thanks.

WILLOW Except... I'm less worried about hitting my thumb, and more worried about going all black-eyed baddy and bewitching that hammer into cracking my friends' skulls open like coconuts.

XANDER Right. Ouch.

WILLOW Sorry. Xander, being back here... I don't know...

XANDER It'll take time. Are you sure you're ready for this?

Also, kudos to Xander because I think he was doing a great job of acknowledging Willow’s concerns while giving her sound advice, you know? He wasn’t his typical “it’ll be okay” self. He was honest. He admitted it would take time and that it would be hard on her, but he didn’t doubt for a second that she would make it.

5) And then…

6) This is perfect…

BUFFY It sounds like it's difficult for you. Like maybe your sister makes it hard for you to establish your own identity. You said she's controlling, she doesn't let you make your own decisions—

On a more serious note, though, how does the school allow Buffy to counsel her own sister? I mean, talk about conflict of interest, right?

PRINCIPAL When I was in high school, I had a thing with this guy, right? Real bully. I kept telling everyone that he'd better sleep with one eye open 'cause I was gonna bust his ass. Well, I got suspended. Talk like that is taken pretty seriously where I come from.

BUFFY The hood?

PRINCIPAL Beverly Hills...

Yeah, Buffy, you know what happens when you assume...

PRINCIPAL Every time there's a threat like this, we do the same dance. Inform teachers, search lockers, but we can't—we can't know what's gonna happen, and we can't search their brains. We just—we just do what we can.

BUFFY It's not enough. I need to fix this. I don't usually get a heads up before somebody dies.

This is what’s interesting about what Carrie represents, both in the show and in real life. Buffy goes into this purely as a counselor, and she soon finds out that her resources as such are very limited. She probably thinks Cassie is having suicidal thoughts, and Buffy finds herself helpless to prevent this. The education system’s red tape makes it impossible for her to take action in a more effective way, and there’s no demon she can kill to prevent Cassie from dying. This is addressed again when she goes to Willow and Xander.

XANDER Buff, you spilled a cup of coffee. I'm not saying you don't have slayer grace, but it's not the first time.

WILLOW I mean maybe, just maybe, you're trying so hard to help that you're seeing paranormal when there's just normal.

9) Wow is this joke dated!

WILLOW Have you googled her yet?

XANDER Willow, she's 17.

Side note: did you know this line right here made BTVS the first TV show to use the word “google�� as a verb?

10) It seems Xander took a line from Veronica’s book, right? You marshmallows out there will get what I mean...

BUFFY Wow, that's a lot of poems.

XANDER Poems. Always a sign of pretentious inner turmoil.

11)

WILLOW I don't know. I mean, a lot of teens post some pretty angsty poetry on the web. I mean, I even posted a melodramatic love poem or two back in the day.

XANDER Love poems?

WILLOW I'm over you now, sweetie.

12) Buffy was really stepping over her boundaries, though…

BUFFY We know you've been picked up by the police a couple of times. We wanted to know if you still— drink a lot.

MR. NEWTON What's that got to do with Cassie?

BUFFY Frankly, we were worried that you might—drink too much and hurt Cassie. That's all. (that’s all???? you’re accusing this guy of beating up his daughter!!!)

MR. NEWTON Oh. Oh, I see. That's-that's all. You just come in here in the middle of the night, into my home, and start accusing me of beating on my daughter? That's all?

BUFFY We just want to make sure that Cassie's—

MR. NEWTON Well, that's a lie! Who told you this? Did Cassie's mother put you up to this, 'cause I pay my support, OK? To the dime! She just wants to take away the one weekend a month I get to be with my girl.

I’m sure in any other town but Sunnydale this type of behavior would get a counselor fired, right?

13) And isn’t Cassie Buffy’s mirror image?

CASSIE You think I want this? You think I don't care? Believe me, I want to...be here, do things. I want to graduate from high school, and I want to go to the stupid winter formal... I have this friend, and it would be fun to go with him. Just to dance and hear lame music to wear a silly dress and laugh and stuff. I'd like to go. There's a lot of stuff I'd like to do. I'd love to ice skate at Rockefeller Center. And I'd love to see my cousins grow up and see how they turn out 'cause they're really mean and I think they're gonna be fat. I'd love to backpack across the country or, I don't know, fall in love, but I won't. I just never will.

This is pretty much Buffy’s plight to a tee, right? The wanting to have a normal life but knowing she won’t be able to. I actually made a parallel set between this speech and Buffy’s in Becoming, but there are so many other examples of Buffy voicing this same concerns and wants (Welcome to the Hellmouth, Prophecy Girl...)

14)

SPIKE Yes. There's evil. Down here. Right here. I'm a bad man. William is a baaad man. I hurt the girl.

BUFFY Spike, stop it! What did you do?

SPIKE I hurt you, Buffy, and I will pay. I am paying because I hurt the girl.

BUFFY Spike. No. It's not me. It's a different girl, OK? Her name is Cassie Newton. Please, do you know anything specific?

SPIKE Don't—don't leave me. Stay here, and help me be quiet.

BUFFY I think it's worse when I'm here.

On the one hand, I think it was necessary to see Spike flogging himself over what he’d almost done. I mean, how do you keep a character who’s done what he did without having him beat himself up for it? And I get that Buffy, as the victim of his assault, needed to be the person to witness how guilty and sorrowful he was. But... on the other hand, the writers had put themselves in a no-win scenario. They ruined Spike’s character development by having him almost rape Buffy, and now the only way to turn things around was to have Buffy, his victim, feel sorry for him. She shouldn’t have been put on that spot, especially when so little thought was given to her own trauma (a few flashbacks in Beneath You, that was it... never again does she flinch from Spike’s touch or get away from his company...) At the same time, Buffy is this type of person, the one who constantly puts the other cheek. Not only does she forgive easily but she also takes care of those who hurt her (think of her comforting Willow right after she almost had Dawn killed, or the oh so many times she tried to help Faith after one of her betrayals...) She is selfless, and I don’t see why this time should have been any different. Still, I can understand why this can make people uncomfortable. It sets a weird - to say the least - example for assault victims. But I don’t think it’s fair to say Buffy was out of character.

15) I kind of liked this guy until he said this…

BUFFY You aren't mad at Cassie, with her rejecting you like that?

MIKE Nah, she's a girl right? Making boys crazy is like your job description.

Well, your job description is being a stupid dumbass, apparently. And Buffy laughed??? Buffy would NEVER laugh!!!

16)

PETER Back off. Get back! Get back, you stupid bitch!

Now that’s the Buffy I know and love.

17) I have nothing to base this assumption on, but I’m guessing they had Spike beat up the douche and get a headache because fans might have bought the previous season’s red herring that he had gone on the quest to get the chip removed, so this was the writers’ way of telling the fans: “Spike still has the chip, he really did get his soul back.”

18) This is so sad…

19)

WILLOW Cassie didn't know? Then it was fate?

XANDER I think she was gonna die, no matter what, wasn't she? Didn't matter what you did.

BUFFY She just knew. She was special. I failed her.

DAWN Uh-uh. No. You didn't, 'cause you tried. You listened, and you tried. She died 'cause of her heart, not 'cause of you. She was my friend because of you. I guess sometimes you can't help.

BUFFY So what then? What do you do when you know that? When you know that maybe you can't help?

It’s kind of odd that Buffy went seven seasons without asking herself this question, though. It is a quintessential superhero question, after all. And it’s very similar to the question that’s brought up on ATS in season 1, although we do get an answer there. So, Buffy, here’s your answer:

If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do.

#Buffy the Vampire Slayer #BTVS #Buffy Summers #Cassie Newton #Spike #MTVSepicrewatch #BTVSrewatch2015 #mine #recap #Help #btvsrecap

42 notes · View notes

missblanchette · 7 years ago

Text

Long Dream [5/7]

Series: Joker Game

Characters: Hatano/Jitsui; special guest star appearance: Tazaki

Rating: PG (for language)

Summary: Hatano wasn’t one to read shoujo manga, but there was something familiar about this mangaka named Kunio.

Words: 4947 + bonus

Notes: Modern AU/Reincarnation AU; Spin off to Déjà Vu (KamiMiyo); *wheezes* I promised an update in November, so here we are...!! Sorry for the long wait, life got in the way + writer’s block, but it’s done TwT

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | You can read this on AO3! Thank you guys for your patience and reading; I hope you enjoy~! ☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ

Ch. 5 - Hatano III: Days of Suffering

As hazy as his recollections may be, Hatano recognized this room. Though perhaps it wasn't the room itself, but whom sat on the other end of it. The hardwood floors were the same as any, just as the beige walls and wooden shelves that lined every other room were. But he could pick out that familiar head of black hair from anywhere, even if facing away from him.

Hatano couldn't recall why he'd entered the room nor why he'd sought Jitsui out in the first place, but a mischievous grin grew on his face. As quietly as possible, he crept into the room and stopped short behind Jitsui. He waited one second, two, three --

"Boo."

Slamming his hands onto Jitsui's shoulders, Jitsui hardly reacted save for the quirk of his body.

"Can't you let me have my fun?" Hatano said, feigning annoyance. Jitsui's next words were lost on him, though, as he took a seat next to him. But his body knew the act by heart and went through the motions as usual: he scoffed, placing his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his seat.

"That's an insult if I've heard one."

"Don't worry --" Jitsui's lips read. "You --"

"Gee, thanks."

The conversation dipped into a lull, which allowed Hatano to observe him. Even if he couldn't make out his features, he'd have to be blind not to notice how different Jitsui appeared. The black frames he wore were the most obvious point, but it was also in the the way he held himself (shrinking inwards, not refined and professional) and the way he'd marked his place in the book he held (bookmarked, not doggy-eared). And maybe, just maybe, the looming sense of separation didn't help the matter either.

"The glasses look suits you," Hatano said finally.

"You --" Jitsui took them off his face, running a hand through his hair. Just like that, the Jitsui he'd always known sat before him.

"Mhm, fits a bookworm like you." He glanced at the book that rested on Jitsui's lap. "Mythology? Didn't think you were into that."

"-- not --" Jitsui placed the glasses on the table beside them. "-- Kunio --"

The name brought about a sense of sorrow that Hatano couldn't quite place, one that he pushed back immediately as soon as it sprung up.

"Yeah? Then what does Kunio think of it?"

"Enjoyable --"

"I'll take your word on that, but --" He grabbed the glasses, pushing them high up the bridge of his nose, and brushed his bangs up. "-- maybe Shimano would."

Without missing a beat, Jitsui curled into himself like a shrinking violet. Even the way he thumbed the book matched the demeanor he now took on, handling it with gentleness.

“-- sure?”

"Try me."

Writing off the gaps in the tale as his incomplete memories would've been an easy lie; the myth Jitsui -- Kunio, rather -- told didn't interest Hatano in the slightest. But he wouldn't be a very good actor, much less a spy, if he couldn't pretend to be interested, so Hatano -- acting as Shimano -- listened to the Egyptian tale of Osiris and Isis. From what he could glean, they'd been lovers separated by Osiris' death. Isis, distraught, searched for Osiris' body parts to put him back together. While she'd succeeded, Osiris' resurrection made him king of the Underworld, keeping them away from each other once more. Surely Jitsui had been more detailed, but that was the gist of it.

"You were right," Hatano said, taking the glasses off and shaking his hair back in place. "I didn't care at all."

"-- the one listening --" Jitsui mouthed. "What --"

Hatano hummed, pretending to think about his response.

"Searching for a lost lover seems like a waste of time, doesn't it?" He shrugged. "Sure Isis brought Osiris back, but what's the point if they're going to be separated again?"

"Depends --"

"Wow, didn't realize you were a romantic deep down inside," he said with a teasing lilt.

Though he couldn't make out his expression, Hatano grew warm underneath Jitsui's gaze.

"I'd do the same," his lips read, and Hatano didn't need to be told for whom. "Wouldn't you?"

Taken aback, Hatano merely stared at Jitsui. He mulled over his next words, wary of their surroundings.

"Careful," he said, trying to maintain the levity in his voice. "Someone might think you're actually capable of love."

To this, Jitsui gave no reply. Instead, he smiled -- a rather sweet smile that Hatano decided suited him the best. And in return, Hatano smiled back.

They soon fell into a silence, but Hatano didn't mind in the slightest. Considering everything going around them, he could almost believe they were at peace in this little bubble of theirs. There'd be no goodbyes between them when they left for their missions and he'd have to pretend as if what they had never existed -- that Jitsui didn't exist.

But had the circumstances been different, had fate been a little kinder towards them, Hatano would've answered Jitsui's question with an "Of course." He would do anything for him, after all.

Forgetful he may be, Hatano still considered himself a perceptive guy.

Minor details like what shirt somebody was wearing or what he did for the day often escaped him, but patterns in behavior were ingrained to his mind. Cycles of repetition made it easier to catch nuances in behavior, whether they be a change in tone or even a simple gesture. No matter how good the actor may be, there was always some hint of their true intentions in their actions.

Take his dad, for example. The guy was always an ass towards him, but now he was just taciturn and evasive.

And it all started with that unknown visitor.

The first incident, Hatano could brush off as nothing; they didn't typically get visitors -- especially unannounced ones, at that -- so of course his dad would get upset. Sure, he was bitchier than usual, but he'd give him the benefit of the doubt just this once.

The second time around, however, Hatano couldn't ignore as easily.

It was strange enough to have someone drop by one day, but it was a flat out abnormality for it to happen twice in a row.

Hatano hardly had time to think when the doorbell rang, having been hit with a migraine as soon as he stepped into the house on top of pondering the whereabouts of the letter. By the time he stumbled off his bed, he heard the door being unlocked.

By all means, he could've just minded his own business, flop back into bed and try to sleep the pain off, but curiosity won him over and his feet dragged him out into the hallway with Yoru following in tow. Staying hidden, Hatano strained his ears to catch the conversation.

"Good afternoon," the person behind the door said. At the sound of those words, Hatano's heart skipped a beat. Though he couldn't see who it was, he could tell it was a guy's voice -- polite, refined, and most importantly, familiar . But much to his frustration, he couldn't place exactly where he'd heard it.

His dad clicked his tongue, bringing Hatano's attention back to the present.

"You again."

A pause.

"Yes, it's me again," the other man said. Though soft spoken, an underlying edge crept into his voice. "You said Hatano would be around later and since it's later, I was wondering if he was around?"

Hatano furrowed his eyebrows. His dad never mentioned anyone looking for him.

"Sorry, kid. He's not here."

"Then could you tell me when he'll be back -- exactly ?"

"I wouldn't be able to tell you; he's back when he's back. Now leave."

Something blocked the door as his dad closed it. From this angle, Hatano couldn't see what was going on outside, but he could only assume it was the other guy who’d done it.

"I'm sorry, but --"

"I said leave." Without giving him a chance to finish, his dad pushed him back and slammed the door with finality.

The air suffocated him, much like how the tension stabbed his head. It seemed that the other guy had given up for the day but his dad made no sign of moving, staring at the door as if daring it to respond. Hatano waited, counting his heartbeats before stepping out into the living room.

"Who was that?" Hatano asked as casually as he possibly could.

A beat.

"No one important," his dad said, slowly turning to him.

"Same shit head as yesterday?"

His dad's lips twitched.

"Yeah."

His dad gave no further explanation, not like he expected him to in the first place. The annoyance written all over his face told him more than he needed, anyways.

As his dad retreated into his own room, Hatano looked back towards the door. The very fact that someone was looking for him was difficult to swallow, especially given his small social circle. The guy certainly didn't sound like any of his friends nor could he think of anyone who'd want anything to do with him. Even so, his eyes drifted down to his wrist, yet he couldn't find it in himself to be sure.

He couldn't rely on naive hopes, he'd learned that long ago. Regardless, Hatano made note to keep watch. The missing letter, the unknown visitor, his dad's attitude -- something was up, and not for the better.

Hatano had stopped anticipating anything in the mail but that didn’t stop the disappointment that struck up at the sight of the empty mailbox. Sometimes, being a monster seemed easier than dealing with these human feelings.

Thankful for the minimal contact with his dad upon his return, Hatano made his way to his room. As much as he wanted to rest his throbbing head, he ripped off the post-it note that he'd stuck onto his headboard and checked off "mailbox." Underneath it, "visitor" had yet to be touched. If there was a pattern to be seen, it was that these two happened to coincide.

He clicked his tongue as he checked his watch, berating himself for not taking down the time. That might've been a smart idea, but whatever. It'd happen eventually. In the meantime, Yoru's meows filled the room and while he loved the fur ball, he could only take so much before his head exploded.

"What d'ya want, bud?" He said, kneeling down to scratch the underside of Yoru's neck.

All of a sudden, a clank resounded, causing him to jump as he'd been too focused on petting Yoru. He looked around and nearly dismissed it as nothing when another clank followed, his hand raising to his head to settle down his headache. His mind raced, scrambling to find the most likely source of the noise. As far as he knew, there wasn't anything that could've made such a loud sound.

Well, maybe there was one thing.

Yoru tailed after him as he made his way towards the balcony. The only thing he could think of was outside -- the fire escape to be exact. The trap door was the only thing he could think of that was heavy enough to make such a noise. Then again, if it was the fire escape, why the hell was it making that noise? At a first glance, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then he heard another clanking sound, stronger this time, and moved to slide open the door. Just as his hands gripped the handle, his father called out.

"Hatano!"

Hatano huffed, debating on whether or not he should humor his dad.

"Yeah?" he called back, only to get no response.

"What?" He tried again to no avail. Rolling his eyes so hard they could've fell out of his sockets, he turned away just as another clank rang out.

"Be right back," he told Yoru. "Keep an eye out for me, 'kay?"

With Yoru's meow of affirmation, Hatano took one last glance outside the balcony before leaving his room. It probably wasn't a big deal anyways, he thought to keep his nerves down. Still, that didn't stop him from wondering.

Usually, Hatano could deal with his migraines and suck it up to go about his day, but there were times where he wanted nothing more than the sweet relief of death. As he burrowed his head deeper into his pillow, he made such a wish to rid himself of the damn stabbing in his head. It must've been a culmination of all the stress from the past couple of days, where he felt like he was going outta his goddamn mind; having been constantly on the edge, it'd gotten to the point where he swore he heard someone calling his name. Who? He didn't know. Either way, he simply couldn't bring himself to get out of bed, let alone crack open his eyes.

Days to himself were far and few in between and if not for his current state, Hatano would've have taken advantage of the time alone. His dad was out at work so he was free to do as he pleased, which meant he could've even done more investigating on that mystery visitor. Though, he supposed, there wasn't much to be done about that. Even if he had his suspicions, he couldn’t determine anything was a sign from them. Well, good thing he was incapacitated -- he wouldn't have been able to do a damn thing if they actually stopped by.

Fur filled his vision, Yoru's meows greeting him like nails against a chalkboard. He reached out to pet him, partly to silence him, partly to find some semblance of being alive. He managed to quiet Yoru down into a purr -- much like a flick to the forehead -- but that only spurred Yoru into pawing at him. Deigning himself to the outside world, Hatano squinted at him.

"Need something?" he asked. Yoru mewled in reply. Hatano sighed.

"Can it wait? 'm kinda preoccupied." Lazily, he gestured to his head. Yoru's reply was to stare at him, his yellow eyes boring into his. With a look like that, Hatano knew he wasn't gonna win.

"Okay," he said. "Give me a sec."

Mentally counting to ten, Hatano hauled himself up from bed and rolled out. He landed on his feet rather unsteadily, but brushed it off as he made a face at Yoru.

"Lead the way," he said, exhausted.

As much as he detested special treatment, Hatano was glad Yoru didn't move too quickly. His own steps were but stumbles in comparison to his, what with his migraine making it difficult to walk around. Though it was a short trip, it seemed to last longer than one of Tazaki's pigeon care lessons and he'd nearly blanked out when Yoru stopped. He nearly tripped over him as his hand slammed against the nearest surface to keep him steady. With that, the door in front of him creaked open and it was then that Hatano realized where Yoru brought him.

"...You sure 'bout this?" he asked, peering into the room. It wasn't that he'd never been in his dad's room before, but he never went in unless absolutely necessary. Maybe he needed to stop watching horror movies, but it felt like cold air hung around the room like some ghost haunted it.

In response, Yoru pushed the door open further. Hatano hugged himself as a shiver ran through his body, missing his chance to scold Yoru as Yoru ventured in further. Resigning himself to Yoru's judgement, he trudged after him. Yoru's last stop was the drawer that stood opposite to them, and he climbed on top of it before beckoning Hatano with his yellow eyes. His tail swung back and forth across the top drawer as if signalling him. After a moment's hesitation, Hatano stepped forward and inspected it.

"Open it?"

Yoru blinked slowly.

Running his hands across the wood, he found a keyhole in the center. He clicked his tongue as he pulled on it to no avail. But dammit, he was no quitter. He gripped onto the handles, using the pressure from his migraine to edge him on, and after a few pulls, the drawer popped open.

"All right, so... what am I looking for?"

A meow.

"Very helpful." Nonetheless, he began shifting through the drawer's contents.

Hatano wasn't sure what surprised him more: the fact that his dad kept this stuff or that it existed at all. To the side were some certificates, a ripped up marriage certificate and his birth certificate right underneath. On top of them was a tarnished ring, a wedding ring from the looks of it. Further on was a family picture from when he was a toddler, or what was left of it anyways. His mother was torn off, the tear cutting right into his own face. As he reached out for it, something else caught his eye -- an envelope. With his name on it.

Everything else now forgotten, Hatano grabbed it immediately. Flipping it back and forth, Hatano noted two things: the letter had already been opened and the sender's name was painstakingly familiar. Wasting no time, Hatano pulled the letter out and began reading.

Dear Hatano,

Hopefully this has met the right person. If it has, then I won't be keeping this too long. Admittedly, part of it is because I'm not quite sure what to say. Ironic, isn't it? I've spent a long time wanting to see you again but now that you're within reach, I find myself speechless. For now, I'll put down my feelings as best as I can.

There are stories of lost loves, of the harrowing journeys taken to find them, and there was once a life where I'd found them far-fetched. After all, there are other things to do than wasting it on a futile search for some person. But thinking about it -- about us -- I'd do the same, wouldn't you? Perhaps this will sound cliche, but I've found that cliches do just the trick. I don't know if you feel the same, if you remember me, or have any idea of what I'm talking about, but that's okay. It's funny how much just the memory of someone can influence you, and how much you've motivated me even if you weren't by my side. I just wanted to let you know that even if I haven't met you in this lifetime, you're still important to me.

With that said, I hope you don't mind me dropping by and that we can catch up then.

Love,

Jitsui

The letter tight in his grip, Hatano stumbled backwards and fell right onto the bed behind him. So. He was right. Kunio was Jitsui, Jitsui was Kunio -- the very same guy. Getting that confirmation, Hatano felt a weight lift off his shoulders, the ache in his head beginning to dull. To think that Jitsui had been looking for him, too, this whole time -- even longer than he'd been, in fact. It was a concept Hatano could barely wrap his mind around, the concept that someone had missed him and wanted him.

But it was just as the words he'd read began to sink in that Hatano realized the circumstances in which he'd found the letter: a locked drawer in his dad's room, with the letter having already been opened. Not to mention, the letter was dated from last week. His dad had been keeping it from him, but Hatano couldn't fathom why. Before he could question it further, the doorbell rang.

He glanced towards the clock and saw that it was just about the time his dad came home, but he should've had his key on him. Regardless, Hatano carefully folded the letter and placed it in his pocket but not before giving the words another glance over. He then patted his pocket to make sure the letter was still there and headed towards the door.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to confront his dad about it now or not. But then again, if not now, then when? Perhaps he was more of a coward than he thought he was. As Hatano beat himself up over the matter, he slowly removed the hatch and unlocked the door. Allowing himself a moment's breath, he swung it open, only to grow numb at what greeted him.

"Hatano?"

His breath caught at the sound of his name, the voice so familiar but yet not so. Similarly, he knew the head of obsidian black hair, the cherubic face, and the porcelain skin; vaguely, he recalled dreams that felt far out of reach. And the eyes, especially -- though he couldn't remember seeing them, he knew those big, dark brown eyes. He knew him, and Hatano had never felt so sure of anything in his life.

There was a name on the tip of his tongue. His thoughts drifted to the characters written on his wrist.

"Ji --"

"Excuse me." His dad's voice cut in, Jitsui suddenly being pulled back as his dad entered the fray. "We're not having visitors right now."

Before Hatano could even process what was happening, his dad pushed him back into the house. Too stunned to even think, Hatano stood numbly as his dad locked the door behind them. Loud bangs reverberated throughout the room from the other side, the door practically reaching off its hinges, but his dad paid no mind to them. It was only until his dad passed him by, their shoulders touching ever so briefly, that Hatano snapped back into reality.

"What the hell was that about!?" Hatano said the first thing to come to mind, repercussions be damned.

"What the hell was what?" His dad was as dismissive as always, only adding more fire to Hatano's temper.

"You know exactly what I mean."

Still, his dad continued playing it off as he put his belongings away.

"It's none of your business."

"Are you shitting me?" Without thinking, Hatano grabbed his dad by the collar, their gazes clashing against each other's. In any other situation, Hatano would've hated laying an eye on the man -- equal parts spite and fear -- but now, all he saw was a target to beat the crap out of. "You keep things away from me , and you say it's none of my business?"

His dad remained silent, his stare piercing. It was only once the adrenaline started wearing off that Hatano began to think that maybe he should’ve gone about this differently. His grip loosened, and it was then that his dad shoved him onto the floor. Hatano hissed as his body made contact, his hands shooting out just in time to protect himself from too much damage.

"You live under my roof, don't you?" Towering over him, his dad grabbed the back of his head and forced him to look up. "I'm just doing what's best for you."

"What's best for me?" Hatano spat the words out. "You've done nothing but make my life hell!"

Hatano bit down on his lips, the iron taste of blood filling his tongue as his dad's grip on him tightened. Even if his heart pounded against his chest, he didn't once dare look away.

"Your mother left you in my care," his dad said, the coldness in his tone enough to send shivers down his body. "I'm just doing what she asked of me."

A bout of silence fell over the two, but Hatano wasn't about to let his dad have the last word.

"No wonder she left you."

His face slammed against the floor faster than he could comprehend. The side of his face was going to bruise for sure, if the stinging was anything to go by. But he had no time to take care of his wounds, as his dad forced him to look up again.

"Hate me all you want, but you're under my rule, whether you like it or not."

His dad dropping his head against the floor, Hatano was left lying there. Attempting to get up proved useless, as he was too tired, too overwhelmed to pick himself up and fell back down. He didn't know how long he stayed there, but time didn't matter when he couldn't even think properly. It was only when Yoru neared him, prodding and poking him as if to make sure he was all right, that Hatano returned to his senses.

Slowly, Hatano sat up. The room had gone eerily silent after all the banging on the door that must've stopped some time ago. Looking at the window, Hatano noted how late it was as the sun had already set. Clicking his tongue, Hatano pet Yoru, letting his purrs soothe him.

"Well, that was a fucking mess," he said more to himself than anything. In return, Yoru nuzzled against him.

He sighed, trying to figure out all the thoughts running through his head. But if there was one thing he knew, he knew that he couldn't stay here. Not for the time being at least.

Taking the letter out from his pocket, he found the sender's address. It wasn't too far away from where he lived, actually, but something inside of him told him not to go tonight. It was late, was the excuse he thought of, but he knew deep down that he couldn't handle anything else going wrong today. Loathe as he is to admit it, he was scared. Of being wrong. Of being rejected. Of loss.

Regardless of his feelings, he knew he'd have to face it eventually. So picking himself up, Hatano wobbled into his room and began stuffing his belongings into his bag. With each thing he grabbed, a voice told him to drop it and stay put with what was familiar. Try as he might to ignore it, it only grew louder and louder until he'd gotten everything. As much as he entertained the thought of running away, he'd never actually gone through with it before. Leaving what was a shitty environment was for the better, but it was all Hatano knew, all he could remember, all he could grasp. Though, this wasn't really running away, was it? He'd come back once he'd dealt with everything, though he supposed the consequences would be the same. Then again, did his dad even care --

A meow came from his side, shaking him out of his thoughts. Right, he knew he was forgetting something.

"Let's go, Yoru," Hatano said, picking Yoru up. "We're taking a little trip."

Opening the balcony door, he slid down the fire escape.

Running away staggering on his feet and nursing a migraine probably wasn't his best idea, but no way in hell was he going back now. Since it was pretty late, Hatano could only hope that one of the guys saw one of his many texts. He reconsidered Kunio's (no -- Jitsui's, he reminded himself) address but decided that he wasn’t mentally prepared for that reunion yet. Talk big he may, but the thought of reuniting was a little daunting.

Just a little.

Okay. Very daunting. He didn't wanna keep Jitsui waiting, but he didn't wanna disappoint him with his current self either (despite no matter how many times he reassured himself that Jitsui didn't care, Jitsui would be happy to see him, Jitsui cared about him). The most important thing now was that he had to get away from the place he called “home” and recollect himself.

Within a few seconds of him knocking, the door swung open to reveal a sleepy-eyed Tazaki.

"...Do you realize what time it is?" Tazaki mumbled.

"I know, I know," Hatano said, wasting no time stepping in and letting Yoru down. "I'll be gone in the morning, but I’ll pay you back somehow."

"You're always welcome here, you know," Tazaki said as he closed the door behind them. Once the lights were on, Hatano could clearly see the worry etched on Tazaki's face -- his furrowed eyebrows and the frown he wore. Then, Tazaki's eyes bulged and he reached out to touch his face. "Oh my God, are you all right!?"

Out of instinct, Hatano flinched but he reminded himself that it was just Tazaki and forced himself to relax.

"I am -- will be," he said, finding it difficult to keep eye contact with Tazaki. He turned away, setting his bag down. "It's just..." He trailed off, not even sure how to explain himself.

Now that he thought about it, he never really discussed anything that was going on lately with the guys; sending a text that said "im dropping by" in the dead of night didn't really count. Whether he was just tired or just truly speechless, Hatano couldn't find the words to speak even after all that happened. So instead, he put a hand on Tazaki's arm. "There's a lot going on; I'll explain later. Right now, I just need to get away from there," he said, both of them knowing exactly what "there" meant.

Tazaki didn't say anything at first, his gray eyes running over him as if looking for further explanation. Thankfully, he didn't push the topic, patting a hand on his and nodding.

"Whenever you're ready, okay?" he said. He paused, as if wanting to say something else. "Let me get you a blanket. And an ice pack."

"Thanks," Hatano said, slumping into the couch and finally letting his body rest. He was gonna get through this, he told himself. With the image of Jitsui in mind, he knew that things would work out somehow.

bonus

Just as he sank into the couch, a thought hit Hatano. Immediately, he popped into a sitting position and started rummaging through his bag.

"Wait!” he said, causing Tazaki to freeze in his steps. “I have something for you."

It didn't take him too long to find what he needed and handed it to Tazaki, whom looked at it incredulously.

"Is... this my hot glue gun?"

"Yep," Hatano said, popping the "p."

"I lent this to you, like, six months ago."

Hatano shrugged.

"Said I'd give it back to you, didn't I?"

Tazaki looked back and forth between him and the hot glue gun.

"...True."

#joker game #!fanfic #!f: joker game #!hybrid #wheezes even more hopefully next ch will be up soon

3 notes · View notes