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tinytennisskirt · 2 months

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Angel

Part Two: In Practice

Summary: in continuation of part one, singlemom!reader treats Patrick to dinner. He has a hard time keeping his feelings to himself and it only gets harder to do so as he sees you with every lesson he gives her son.

Warnings: tension, touch, fluff! still unedited, from my notes app. some suggestive content.

“So my sister is on a date with a tennis player,” she said. “I thought we agreed no dating jocks back in high school.” She said. “How old did you say he was?”

“Younger than me- and it’s not a date,” you told her, putting on your lipstick. Your sister caught the lipstick before you put it in your purse.

She looked at you knowingly, “The shade of your lipstick is literally called date night.”

“I like the colour,” you reasoned, shrugging and dropping it in your bag. “I’ll probably be back around 9:30 or 10. Nothing crazy, just something to get to know the man teaching my son tennis.”

“A stranger from the park.”

“And from the grocery store and cafe.” You reasoned again. “He agreed to go to dinner with me and we haven’t settled on a price yet, so I think this night would be very productive to get that settled.”

“Uh huh… a younger man, Y/N.” She pretended to claw at the air, snarling like a cat.

“I’m not old enough to be a cougar,” you laughed. “My guess is he’s mid-twenties. It’s about ten years. He doesn’t seem to mind, he was kind to me either way.”

“When are men not kind to you? You’re a walking model, I don’t know how you popped out a kid and bounced back the way you did. I still feel pregnant most of the time.” Your sister laughed with you. She peered out the window. “Your taxi is here.”

You bid her and Kit, preoccupied with his toys, a goodbye and got in the taxi. The restaurant was one of your favourites. They had amazing tomato soup, you were pretty excited for it. You sat at a table and waited, hands folded.

Patrick wasn’t far behind you. The last time you’d seen him he was all sweaty, the other times he was just casual, jogging, buying groceries. Today he looked noticeably nice.

His curls were the same, but he was wearing a sweater and jeans, unlike his regular shorts and t-shirt. He looked comfortable. “Hi you,” you said as he approached. “How are you?”

Patrick loved how you cared, eyes wide, wondering how he was doing. “I’m good, I’m great, actually. How are you?” He took a seat.

“I’m good. I’m so glad you let me bring you here there’s a lot I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” You said. Patrick knew it wasn’t a date, he could keep his cool, he wouldn’t do anything. Which was admittedly out of character, but you were you. And you were perfect, so he would have to be on his best behaviour. However, it was a bit hard when you looked the way you did. He could tell you put some effort in, so despite this not being a date, he looked at you as if it was. “So I was thinking I should tell you a bit about Kit, but first I want to talk about you.”

“Sure,” Patrick said. He just wanted to hear you speak. Your lips were so pretty, painted such a shade. Patrick was wishing hard for that lipstick to end up staining his white sweater, his neck, his face. He snapped himself away from the vision with a reminder. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Perfect. Well for starters, your last name, maybe?” You giggled. It was a sound made of air. Patrick was becoming a poet.

“Oh, Zweig.” He answered.

“Patrick Zweig,” you replied. He loved his name on your tongue. “That’s familiar, almost?”

“I played a few televised games, might be that.” He replied. He hoped trying to impress you wasn’t coming off as boasting. But to you, it wasn’t. “I wasn’t meaning to show off-“ No girl ever made him doubt the things he said. No woman.

“No, it’s amazing. I’m so impressed, tennis is… hard.” You gushed. “And you’ve been playing since twelve?”

“A little before twelve. Since I was eight? But professional tournaments came around twelve and then tennis academy. I grew up on tennis. I think Kit is at the perfect age, honestly. I wish I started earlier, even now.”

“Really?”

Patrick nodded, “It’s been my life, so if you’re worried about qualifications-“

“It’s not a job, I’m not interviewing you,” you laughed. It sounded like delicate bells chiming. “I know you’re qualified I’m just curious about… you.” You said. You felt inclined to pause there and you weren’t sure why.

He laughed and rubbed his neck. You looked him in the eyes and he forgot everything he knew about himself. Leave it to Patrick to be absolutely dumbstruck by a woman like you. “What are you looking to know?”

“What do you like?”

Patrick felt inclined to state who. But he shrugged just slightly, you were interested in him. “I like tennis a lot. I play it a lot. I like to cook sometimes, mostly easy stuff, but I like a challenge. I like old movies, westerns, guns and horses, that kind of stuff.” He loved how intently you listened. You took in every word.

“My father used to watch a lot of those,” you chuckled. “He played this one on repeat, background noise for doing dishes and folding clothes- something called The Horse’s Man. Lots of guns, horses.”

“That’s a weird one, I’ve seen it, I have it on VHS, actually,” Patrick chuckled. He was impressed that you even knew that one. It was rare, independent. Patrick wondered if it was appropriate to ask what you liked, given his position. “Are you not a fan?”

“I think I’ve been conditioned into it but on my own, I like romantic comedy. And horror comedy, no gore.” You replied. Patrick smiled. The conversation went from there. It strayed from simple things as you and Patrick delved into your passions. You laughed a little too much. He was funny and he was charming and it was odd how nervous he seemed. You liked it though. Not to say you liked him. Not liked him liked him. He was cute, but too young. You were just glad he could legally order a Tom Collins. Patrick settled on $20 per lesson after you insisted and insisted on $60. It was a good fight and you’d almost won but he insisted. You filled him in on everything he needed to know about Kit and he loved every second of learning about the boy you’d sculpted him to be. Kit sounded like a really sweet kid and Patrick was honestly a bit excited.

The banter didn’t cease. It got borderline flirtatious but neither you nor Patrick noticed. You both cared too much to care. The night came to an end after a few drinks and the calling of a cab. You both stood outside in the cool summer breeze, he was facing you. “Thank you for everything,” you said, wind blowing around your face softly. Patrick’s eyes on you were soft, you could see the smile in his eyes.

“I’ve never been taken to dinner out of gratitude, so thank you.” Patrick grinned fully. You smiled. You were so beautiful, Patrick was overtaken. You in this breeze, this lighting- dim but lit by the streetlight, your perfect smile. Your perfect lips…

“Of course,” you said. “I’m glad you obliged, I’ve learned so much about you.”

“I can’t say I know enough about you,” he replied. “But I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“Tuesday,” you repeated the date. Kit’s first lesson. “God, you’re an angel, I’m still so grateful.” You gushed. He loved the title. Patrick had never been called that before, but you’d taken to it. And he loved it.

“I still don’t think so.” He shrugged. Things for you, doing things for you was the easiest thing. The wind gusted stronger, as if in tune with the surges of feeling Patrick was enduring. No woman had ever made him feel like this, not once, not ever. You batted your hair away, out of your face and it was instinct for Patrick to reach and push your hair from your face.

Immediately he apologized. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that-“ Patrick would usually act like it was intention, not apologize, but the action was very much so instinct. He wouldn’t act like it was intention.

“It’s okay, it helped,” you chuckled, your eyes twinkling. Patrick was so done for. “Thank you for being so kind.”

Patrick shook his head, “I don’t think I’ve been kind or even too great, if I’m honest with you. I’m glad you’re letting me do these things.”

“I think it means more to me than you know.” You signed, “And I still think twenty is too little.”

“Good thing I’m twenty-two.” Patrick joked. It would have been funny if his finger hadn’t grazed your cheek as he pushed your hair behind your ear. You tried to stop your eyes from widening. Twenty-two was three years younger than you’d guessed. Your heart beat fast. But it was funny anyway. You laughed as your taxi pulled up.

“This is me,” you said. Patrick leaned over and opened the taxi door for you. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Sounds perfect. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Patrick.” You replied. His name never sounded less beautiful coming from your mouth.

When the first lesson rolled around, everything went perfectly. You sat and watched and cheered on your son, laughing and cheering and you were the brightest thing around in broad daylight. Kit was a fast learner, but he was prone to tripping over his own feet. Patrick found it cute. He did look like you in some ways and anything to do with you, he found perfect.

“He just needs to work on his balance,” Patrick said as he walked you and Kit to your car. “Other than that, he’s a natural.”

Kit tilted his head up to grin a toothless grin at Patrick and you. You smiled back, “That’s wonderful. And you are such a natural teacher, you’re so kind with him. And thank you for being so patient in his moments of doubt.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t know how to get through it any other way,” he shrugged. “It’s my first time teaching so thank you. I needed the confidence boost.”

“You seem so sure of yourself, I can’t imagine a boy such as yourself truly needs it,” Patrick wanted to tell you he was a man, a man, a whole man. An adult man. Not a boy, a man. But he didn’t.

“I do, I do,” he nodded. “You have too much faith in me.”

“I can have less if you’d like,” you smiled, helping Kit into the car.

“No, please, you’re the one with faith for the both of us,” Patrick said. “I appreciate it.”

You smiled, “Well, I appreciate you.”His heart skipped. Maybe he wasn’t a boy or a man. Maybe he was a girl. “I’ll see you in two days for the next one?”

Patrick nodded. “Yes. It was great seeing you.”

“You as well! Goodbye Patrick!” You got in the drivers seat, windows open, you nudged your son. “Kitty, say goodbye to Patrick.”

“Bye bye Patrick!” Kit said in his small voice.

Patrick waved goodbye as you pulled away. Silently, Patrick hoped this kid wouldn’t be the death of him. The kid was adorable.

The next lesson was about the same. Balance issues, racket-holding issues. God, he was cute. God, you were gorgeous, sitting there in your red skort and pink tank top with a red visor. You matched Kit today, apparently having taken a trip to Old Navy. Your hair in the sun was the single most gorgeous thing- THUD.

Kit hit the ball, really hit the ball and it hit Patrick right in the centre of his forehead. It didn’t hurt that bad, it was a tennis ball and Patrick was more than used to it, but it was a big hit for a little guy.

“Are you okay?” You called from the side. You walked over as Patrick pressed a hand to the place of impact.

“That was a great hit buddy!” Patrick called. Kit did a little happy dance. He wondered if you noticed that it was your fault Patrick had been more than distracted. Now it was bad because you were so close, on your tippy toes too, without asking, inspect where the tennis ball hit him. Patrick knew you were a mom, but this was very mom-like. But it was endearing all around and you smelled… amazing. Patrick only could hope he smelled decent, he showered twice already. “I’m okay.” He said, unable to help a smile.

“Okay, good.” You grinned. “Promise?”

“I’m used to it.” He told you. You nodded, comprehending. Patrick debated milking it so you’d stay close but there was no way this kid could have hit it so hard. You returned to the sidelines.

The lesson ended and you let Kit go to the playground as you sat at a picnic table with Patrick. “He’s a great kid.” Patrick told you. “In case nobody’s told you, you’re doing a great job with him.”

Your head turned from the park to Patrick, your expression showing more shock than anything. “Patrick, that’s- nobody has said that to me ever. Not my mom, not my sister, I-“ you could barely speak. Patrick didn’t mean to give so much shock factor, but the truth was you hadn’t heard it. You sat up and covered your face.

It was the easiest, most true compliment, Patrick didn’t think so much of it. “Are you okay?” He reached forward and touched your shoulder. He thought it was a good enough excuse to touch you, just gently.

“Mhm- yes, thank you,” you said, wiping away the two tears you’d let fall. It was good to hear something like that. Patrick was sweet and kind and his hand was so warm. You looked at him and he had a bit of a half-smile, but a look of concern mostly. “You are an angel.”

“You say that but I don’t see any wings,” he replied. It made you smile. Patrick could have called you an angel just the same the way the sun seemed to give you a halo wherever you went. You were the image of perfection to him. He wished you knew the extent to which he thought so.

“I can see them,” you nodded. “That’s all that matters, I think.”

Patrick nodded slowly and looked you in the eyes, “I meant what I said though and I don’t want you to forget it.”

“I couldn’t if I tried, Patrick.” You laughed. His hand slid down where it rested on your arm and rested on the picnic table. Your eyes were so pretty when they were wet, the way your lashes stuck together.

< Part One / Part Three >

#patrick zweig fluff #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig challengers #challengers x y/n #challengers x reader #Challengers fluff

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anhed0nia-ang3l · 21 days

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⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Portrait Of A Ghost Part 2b⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

જ⁀➴ content warnings જ⁀➴

Not all of these themes are in part 2b but these show up in the whole story!

Depersonalisation

Depression

Drowning

Death of a teenager/young person

Emotional isolation

Existential crises

(implied) EDs

Saviour complexes

Suicide

self harm

please stay safe <3

In hindsight, that day specifically wasn’t the certain doom that the 3 of clubs had foretold but what happened after. The incident with the pen was only the beginning, the sunset that lights the sky up in amethyst and citrine before the darkest nights. Was that day the sunset or was the in-between of that day and another day the sunset. Maybe it was all darkness, maybe the two of us were intertwined in a permanent night, blinded by shadows as constellations formed between us.

For the rest of the day after the pen incident, I could feel my insides squirming around inside me. Butterflies didn’t do the feeling justice as it was more like someone had released centipedes inside me and they were crawling around, threatening to crawl up my throat and out of my mouth to let people know what was missing and what had replaced it. Was I really filled with insects or was It something else more powerful, was I being corrupted by an ungodly entity far beyond the understanding of anyone and once it burst out of me I knew whatever was within me could destroy and corrupt the lives of everyone around me.

I am nothing but a vessel for an outbreak of hostilities.

I kept up the act, I tried harder and harder although I knew it was all for nothing, eventually Eri had to do what they had to. All I could do was delay it for as long as possible, like cutting off the circulation to a snakebite. I knew I had to somehow make friends with them and convince them not to tell anyone, it’s what “Rhiannon” would do, she’s perfect after all, she’s just perfect with nothing else below the surface. Her smile is plastered and plastic. But still I would keep playing her, no matter the cost.

I dressed my face in soft smiles , holding my hand out like a false prophet, telling futures too good to be true. Looking back at what happened, it was too good to be true in its own sick, suffering way. I’m not sure if ‘happiness’ is something I’ll ever truly understand but the rush of that year could’ve been the next best thing. I may never understand people but for those brief shining moments the sensation of it blew me about like falling leaves in the wind or how it feels to stand next to a passing train. I grew closer to them, closer and closer like how two plant’s vines can tangle together into a knotted web of thorns and blossoms.

I remember one day we were walking home together with Elliot, he was friends with Eri as well but for different reasons- the right ones, . The car park was empty, so we just sat next to a stream and talked about everything and nothing all at once

“so what bands are you into- please say My Chemical Romance, I swear, I’m the only fan in this class” pleading jokingly as I clasped my hands in a prayer, looking up at Eri with puppy dog eyes

“ Hey- I know Welcome To The Black Parade !” Elliot rebutted, laughing at how ridiculous I looked

“Everyone knows that one” I joked- doing my best impression of a middle aged man when he sees a woman wearing a band T-shirt in public

“No thanks to you” he playfully snarks

“Yeah, I love them,” Eri pipes up “what’s your favourite album?”

“Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge, you?”

“Okay not gonna lie I could tell from English class” They laugh, playfully nudging my shoulder “Mine’s Danger Days”

My heart dropped for a second but to be fair, pretending to cough up blood in an English lesson is a pretty strong first impression.

“Can I get a translation please?” says Elliot

“Basically Rhiannon’s about as dramatic as her eyeliner and I had unrestricted internet access at a concerningly young age,”

“I’m not even gonna ask,” Said Elliot, staring at the two of us, his eyes moving back and forth as Eri and I just about died of laughter.

Little did I know, this was the calm before the storm. It was also one of the few times I’d ever felt normal, like how a person should be, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever feel like that for a long time. What happened next definitely wouldn’t help, if anything that next year was nothing more than the knife of irony twisting itself deeper into my chest. In my efforts to act as a human, I’d become even more separated. Some people might say that I’m no longer a human being because of that year, because of them.

Gradually I grew unsure what it was that drew me to Eri, what was born out of a desperate urge to get by and avoid being found out had changed, at first I wasn’t sure why, when or how I’d grown to be true friends with Eri but I assumed it was a sort of reverse-stockholm syndrome on my part and extremely morbid curiosity on theirs. Sometimes I look back at that and wonder whether I should’ve just let it happen, let myself be found out, or whether I did the right thing. I think it changes every day really, I’m not even sure if there’s any point in thinking about it because of that- it would only make me worse, if that’s even able to happen at this point. I mean I could’ve been less selfish when I could still think of myself as a human being but would it change anything? I didn’t think it would, maybe I’d die with a sense of false martyrdom, that I’d made the right choices leading up to this point, it would stay the same for everyone else but maybe I could’ve stopped all of this from happening.

Regardless of anything like that, Eri and I were pushed together through some unseen force , like we had been tied together and now we were destined to intertwine with one another. We were meant to happen and I could never imagine a universe where it didn’t.I’m not one to believe in fate but in this case fate seemed to be the only explanation for what was happening.

To this day I can’t understand how what happened that year actually happened, what led me to that point. It was awful and it’s one of the reasons I am where I am now but looking back at it feels like looking at a car accident on the road.That urge to observe suffering but never to be a part of it yourself, that was something unique to people. They wanted to see blood without cutting themselves , I know one thing for certain, all of them would enjoy a funeral with no death. Although maybe that desire for suffering with no real consequences wasn’t a uniquely human experience- I’d heard of crows gathering around their dead in mock-funerals while magpies pecked at the corpses, urging their dead to wake up. I knew that I experienced that urge as well, so maybe it wasn’t as human as I thought. The difference between myself and them was that I wanted to feel that pain, the wet blood on my neck, the ecstacy of knowing that this would all end soon. I was in love with the idea of death and wished that I myself would meet with a violent end but I couldn’t quite put myself through the pain of it all.

Regardless of anything like that, Eri and I were pushed together through some unseen force , like we had been tied together and now we were destined to intertwine with one another. We were meant to happen and I could never imagine a universe where it didn’t. I’m not one to believe in fate but in this case it was the only explanation for what was happening.

All the while I was slowly changing, My act was becoming a part of me, growing inside my body like a parasite - where it had been exhausting, it was as simple as blinking. Was I turning into another person? I didn’t know what I was becoming but I welcomed this almost-metamorphosis in the hopes I would grow into someone who understood those around them, who could care, who could be cared about. Unfortunately, some of my wishes came true in the worst way they could. My dream of being anyone but myself had become a sick prophecy, one that devoured and corrupted my very being.

I remember one day vividly. A rainy afternoon that was so dark it looked like night had fallen during our second period maths class, when almost everyone had decided to stay inside during break. Eri and I decided to go out into the forest, we were bored out of our minds in the classroom and rain didn’t bother us, besides the trees could shelter us from the worst of it. As we left, I remember looking up at our classroom window and how the sickly yellow light shone feebly out of the window like an eye that stared down constantly but looked away for the two of us.

“This is how horror films start” I laughed as a gust of icy wind blew the old wooden gate open.

“ We’d be the first to die, 100 percent” Eri answered as we walked through the gates hoping it wouldn’t slam into us

“For sure” I smiled at them for a second, as their deep scarlet hair began to come loose from the two messy buns on top of their head.

As we walked through the woods, the trees towered above us like evergreen umbrellas but the wind was unrelenting, and I could see the way their branches wavered above our heads and threatened to be dropped at any moment. I wasn’t sure if I minded that, or if the thought ever crossed my mind at the time. The rain thundered , tapping on the rickety wooden bridge like a million tiny footsteps rushing to come home to the river.

I gave up on trying to keep my hood up, it kept blowing down anyway and I wasn’t sure if I cared about getting wet if it meant I could spend time with Eri. We slipped up on tree roots and leant on each other for support, tripping over our feet and shrieking with laughter. I didn’t care that I slipped in front of them, because I knew they’d catch me or I’d pull them down with me.

Trust feels like a foreign concept to me. I could never tell who to trust or distrust where it came so easily to every other person I could see. But then again, every other sentence they spoke seemed to be a lie or a half-truth. Even then I felt that this was why the world was so out of sorts, those who ran it were liars and those lies spread and evolved like a virus that could kill. But who was I to judge, I myself was a liar, but I knew what I was doing was for my survival. What they did was for selfish gain, not that I was above that either.

Eri and I stand under the tallest tree, whose arms stretch to the heavens and shield us from the rain. The wind grew stronger, shaking the parchment leaves from branches which flew helplessly through the fake night sky like discarded pages from a notebook.Eri spoke a lot of languages, I never if they moved a lot or if it was a hobby. They spoke seamlessly while I stumbled over any syllables besides the Spanish for beginners we were taught in class. They tried to teach me how to say some phrases

“I love you in dutch is jeg elsker dig, try it”

“ jeg elsker dig” I say, laughing in confusion afterwards

There were so many phrases Eri could’ve tried to teach me but they chose ‘I love you’, why would they even think that about me. They found me out within hours of knowing me, how could anyone love someone like me. If anyone ever loved me, it was because they fell for the fake face I pushed out into the world like an empty shop that still had the window display.

My train of thought was derailed by a large wet leaf flopping onto my face, in an attempt to flick it off me the leaf landed onto Eri’s shoulder , they successfully took it off, and tossed it into a stream. We just stood there for a second, staring at that leaf as it ran its course down the stream. At the start it sort of curved itself to fit the way the stream, now fit to burst with rainwater . Once it widened the leaf got stuck against rough gravel and the harsh, rapid streams of water that it had once fit into cut into it as sharply as a razor. If Eri and I were characters in a novel, maybe this would’ve had some deeper meaning but we were just two teenagers in the right place with the wrong thoughts watching a dead leaf get ripped to shreds when we should’ve been walking to class.

Elliot sometimes joined us, the three of us became our own private worlds, constellations of dappled sun, freckles and branches held us together and for a while I felt like it would all be okay, I felt happy. This word, happy, stood out like a red scar on unmarred skin or perhaps it stuck out like flowers in the cracks of city pavement. I guess it stands out so much because maybe for this short time it was the only time I came close to what you’d call happiness.

Although that day was rainy and dark, it felt like the warm gaps of sunlight on a carpet and even though Eri and I returned to class drenched and freezing it was the warmest I would ever feel.

“Where were you guys” Elliot whisper-shouted to us over the documentary

“You know that stream outside the boundaries” Eri Started, trying not to sound nervous about breaking the rules.

“Yeah…”

“We drowned in it together”

I finished, clasping my hand to my forehead in a dramatic stage faint at my desk, trying to lessen Eri’s obvious nerves. If we had tried to drown in the stream, we’d done a pretty rubbish job, seeing as both of us were alive then.

“ you could’ve told me, I’d rather drown than watch this” Elliot feigned disappointment while drawing something in the margin of his notebook

“I know it’s dead boring” Eri whispered softly

I laughed quietly while nodding in agreement, while the teacher’s back was turned.

Later that year I decided to enter an art contest run by the school. I wasn’t sure whether I actually liked art but it was my best subject at school so it was worth a shot. The last thing I can clearly remember was Eri looking at my entry for the contest ; the portrait was of a girl who looked like me but something about her felt almost wrong. She looked exhausted, almost like she was fading against the vivid scarlet camellias that surrounded her.

‘It’s amazing” Eri exclaimed, as they ran their fingers across the painting as if they were feeling around for something deeper in it, something more about me.

“The girl you painted looks like a ghost, is this a picture of a ghost?”

“Yeah I guess so, do you want to keep it after the competition”

“Sure”

Everything was blurry for a while, as if my head was filled with the kind of static you get from sleeping on your arm. I’m not sure when but at some point Eri needed to move schools, I can’t recall the reason why. I was older than when I first moved so I didn’t think it was because they knew the meaning of ‘suicide’. Something about them always seemed older even though we were the same age, I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. But I didn’t think they’d leave, they would’ve said something. It all happened so suddenly, the empty desk next to mine felt full of something heavy and dark.

We stayed friends and texted everyday but something about school felt strange and empty, even though I had friends besides them like Zoe and Elliot. Zoe just happened to be taking the same exam subjects as me , we both decided to take GCSE geography and misery loves company. A part of me always knew Elliot would always be with me in school. It was strange, the way I was friends with people, I felt as though it was all an act, the other girls would pretend to like me while we were together but never outside those times,although we were all 14 we still seemed to play pretend. It was different though, instead of pretending to have superpowers or pretending to be teachers in a school we all pretended to be friends.Though I think everyone pretends to be something they aren’t for different reasons , to keep a job, to keep friends , to make friends, to make themselves.

Privately I thought this was ridiculous though I knew I was one of the unlucky few who could never stop pretending to be something they weren’t. I had no other choice and at this point I wasn’t sure what was left beneath this mask I’d put up, I imagined that it had all withered up like a limb in a plaster cast, it was there but it was no longer able to do anything but hang limply and aimlessly. I wonder if this is who I am now and if who I was is really gone forever. Is she dead now, did I kill her?

I imagine this is how it feels to have someone you don’t like suddenly die. You’re not sure how to feel and you can’t ask someone how to feel because for some reason that’s something you should always know.

I find it strange how other people know exactly how to feel and there’s always a right way to feel in different situations. There are so many rules about how a person should feel that I’m shocked that nobody I know has gone completely off the rails. I’m not sure if I have real feelings anymore, or if I ever did. That’s the problem with all of this, I can’t feel shit. Sometimes I wonder if I’m even a human being, everyone seems to have something that I’m missing .I wonder if I have missing pieces and I’m just supposed to fill in the holes with whatever comes to me. I hope that someday I can be filled in by people and I hope that they all stay.

Everything inside and outside me changed so rapidly that I could’ve sworn it all happened overnight. I got taller but still looked the same as I always had but what had really changed was the way my acting had turned from something that had come naturally to me into an arduous task, putting it on everyday felt like I was carrying invisible rocks in my backpack. I knew that eventually my back was going to break, I imagined the splintered china of my ribs peering from underneath red satin and poking from the back of my shirt like an undeserving angel’s wings as my spine contorted into impossible angles under the weight of who I knew I was supposed to have been for everyone I knew or would have known.

Although this was painful to me, what was worse was the way that everything before that was more vivid like how old photos are always more saturated. I never seem to realise when something matters until it’s already done and it’s too late to change it anymore.

Another change that I noticed wasn’t in me but in Eri, their texts had gotten darker and more serious. We’d gone from chatting about our days to finding out yet another thing we both had in common; however, this one left a pit in my stomach. The kind that spreads and feels like your insides are dissolved and sloshing around inside you, waiting to leak out. They were the same as me.

I wasn’t sure how they knew how I felt. I thought I hid it well, over my 14 years of life I’d become a brilliant actress (or so I thought) . Some people can just see through others. Eri was what I’d call a genius at knowing people, for better or for worse.

Eri was similar to me in many ways, this wasn’t news to me. We liked the same bands, watched the same TV shows and dressed in a similar style. It was deeper than that, I knew something about them made me feel like we were one and the same. I’m not sure quite what it was about them, but something made me feel different than how I felt about anyone else I was friends with. The superstitious part of me thinks we were meant to know each other, like the parts that both of us were missing somehow were completed. My head swam in the sunset clouds when I was with them, I remember the way my heart felt like a rollercoaster that only went up the day they held my hands. I no longer care what is forgotten as long as I remember how those days felt.

We obviously didn’t see each other that much but the long chains of texts and calls that drew on into the late night continued. I’d never noticed how much things seemed to change until I remembered what was going wrong, it wasn’t anything big, at first they were just little red flags in the distance like the kind you see driving past a beach. Red is a beautiful colour but in this case it signalled the tides of whatever was slowly but surely drowning the two of us.

Drowning isn’t so bad when it’s with someone like Eri, because at least you’re drowning together.

From this point onward, it’s all downhill (‘mine has been a life of much shame’ or whatever) but I have one truly happy memory from this time. Me Elliot and Eri went to a theme park. I think it was one of our birthdays. The rest of the day was fun but nothing truly stuck out to me like what happened when Eri and I had to sit together in a carriage on a carousel, leaving Elliot slightly behind us on a slightly menacing looking horse.

We waited for the ride to start and started playing never have I ever

‘Never have I ever… drank”

‘No”

Elliot laughs

“yeah but it was nasty, did you know beer tastes like straight up dish soap”

“Do you eat dish soap?”

“I think you’d drink it”

“You eat soup, and that’s a liquid”

“Elliot… don’t eat or drink soap”

The music starts and the carousel starts spinning slowly, I remember the gentle back and forth rock of the carriage, Elliot had stopped playing but we kept going until Eri asked a question that honestly floored me

“Rhiannon, never have I ever been kissed”

I pause for a second, imagining the music to stop as they asked

“Umm do my parents count?”

“No, like by someone”

The emphasis on ‘someone’ made more sense to me and I shook my head in surprise

“Would you like to?”

I nodded, unsure of what it was really like or what I was supposed to do.

I lifted my head up for a second, squeezing my eyes so tight I could see flashes of blue and purple behind my eyes, until I felt Eri’s lips gently pressing on my cheeks.I can never truly know how I feel and this was no exception, but in that moment I felt flowers blossoming inside of me, once again my head was all the way up in candyfloss clouds. For a second I could’ve sworn we were spinning in slow motion.

Until Eri moved away, then all I could feel was a hot red blush rushing its way up from my heart to my cheeks. I paused for a second then put my hands over my face in the best panic I had ever felt.

“Cute”

I looked up and burst out laughing in confusion and realisation

Uh.. sorry that was a shock-laugh” I stuttered as we got up.

I wasn’t sure if what happened had actually happened. It felt almost dreamlike, in my head I felt the sun set and in my heart I felt a sense of finality, like this would be the last time something like this would ever happen. At that moment My heart was half right.

We never really saw each other after that day, not in real life anyways. Life seemed to move slowly, trickling molasses into a black puddle that never stopped growing. I sat in class watching the clock just ticking away for some indefinite age, that was one half of it. The other half was just too fast, a mad panicked dash like the rush of doing work the night before a deadline.

The painting I was halfway through lay half finished somewhere in my room, it was supposed to be for a self portrait contest. I copied an older photo of myself in front of a bush blooming with the deepest scarlet camelias. The flowers themselves were beautiful, especially with the way they can just fall to the floor when they pleased.I’ve been told I’m ‘pretty’ or ‘cute’ before but I personally can’t see it, I don’t mean that because of any features. I mean it in the sense that something about me seems so wrong, as though I’m staring into the face of a doll or a mask rather than that of a human being.

Even in this photo from god knows how long ago, you can see there’s something wrong in the way my head tilts at an odd angle, at the way my fists are clenched so much you can see my knuckles are white as bone, at how I didn’t really know how to smile so just bared my teeth in the manner of a stray dog. I then realised something important, this wasn’t a picture of me, this was nothing more than a picture of a ghost. If it had once been alive I couldn’t remember anything of it.

I was consumed in my entirety by anxiety that grabbed at me and clawed at my throat. Part of me hoped they would sink deeper and deeper into me, until camelia rivers sprung from my neck, hoping to drain me of whatever life I had. Of course they never did because they were all in my head and unfortunately, if that were to happen I’d have to do something about it and every time I tried to think about it that was blocked by what my dad had said all those years ago, I wasn’t sure where I stood in terms of humanity but I knew for sure that if I tried but survived I would never hear the end of it, that was for sure.

The picture came together while everything around me seemed to fall to pieces. Life felt wrong somehow, I was living through a fever dream I could never wake up from and although dreaming felt realer than anything I'd known while awake, I could never remember anything once I woke up. Every day I could feel something dark and heavy, like the depths of the ocean press down on my chest. I thought to myself Is this what it feels like to drown? I scared myself once I realised that maybe I wouldn’t care if I drowned. I shook the thoughts out of my head sometimes, hoping that they would eventually go away. They never did.

The calls with Eri grew fewer and further between, hearing their voice was like seeing stars in the city at night;beautiful but all that surrounded it was darkness. They spoke of darker and darker things. They were drowning too and I felt responsible for it

had I pulled them into the water with me?

In our own secret language had ‘I love you’ really meant ‘let’s drown together’

I didn’t know about this other meaning and all I could think was one thought that scared me more than anything ever could:

What if they drown and I’m saved?

I knew this meant I was a bad person, though I’m not sure why this is. I’d read about it online and I was sure that I could save them somehow, maybe I’d be their saviour and that would finally be what made me feel like a human being. No, that definitely made me a bad person. I tried to use someone else’s suffering from my own gain, would an actual person think like that? probably not.

In the short space of a few months these calls pushed my heart from the height of the sun to slamming inside of my throat. It was an all consuming sort of fear, not the kind you get from horror films. it was the kind of fear that comes from waiting… waiting for some great inevitability to occur then watching it all crash down onto everyone like a great tidal wave that fully submerged everything I had ever known or ever would know. In a dream world I would be taken away with it all.

One moment I was on the phone laughing and talking like nothing was wrong and the next, I’d be acting as the therapist their parents couldn’t or wouldn’t pay for. However, while they couldn’t see that they deserved to be helped or whether they knew they needed help, I was also the same age as them.

“Eri, what have you eaten today?”

“Not much” they paused and for me the world stopped for a second

“Just your mum’s-” they paused, gasping with laughter over the phone

“Not the time dude, really not the time”

I could feel my face turning red once again, if Eri was good at one thing it was making me blush, scarlet as the camellias I painted in one way or another.

“Please eat something, especially not that’

The call stopped suddenly. I wasn’t sure how to feel, as always.

After that call I realised that maybe I did have a purpose, being a self- appointed saviour gave me a reason to live and having that made a change. I would’ve preferred it if in order to have a reason to live , someone else didn’t have to suffer. That was the worst part, I thought- in order to deserve to live, other people had to suffer.

‘But anyone would rather die than have someone suffer for their own gain’

I can imagine people thinking or even saying this, gasping as they clutch at their imaginary pearls. I don’t know if they’re unaware of how wrong that statement is, or if it’s just another thing people know but will always ignore, drowning out cries with music. I knew that thought was wrong, I knew that some parents made their children sick to the point of death in order to get attention and money. I truly think those are the two things anyone would do anything for: attention and money. As you can see, reader, In that way I was no different from any other person at one point..

The days wore on and on, my camera roll was filled with increasingly concerning pictures, fingers wrapped around bony wrists which were slowly resembling the silver birch trees on my drive. My voice grew from calling and sometimes crying, fake laughter turned to an almost sickly wheezing and everyday I was being drawn deeper into something I never fully understood, I was made of lead , sinking into a dark and murky lake as I hoped to disappear into nonexistence.

What if I died I thought, I wouldn’t be able to do my job if I was dead.

What if I indirectly kill them if I can’t help them

So the thoughts went on and on twisting into spirals like the ones I’d count out of the car window on car rides. I find that you can see spirals anywhere if you look hard enough or if whatever the driver’s ranting about is dull or offensive enough.

“I think there’s something seriously wrong with people who don’t want to have children”

1… 2: a pattern in someone’s glass panelled door and on someone’s hoodie

Guess I’ll be adding that to the list then

“It’s because they don’t want responsibility, Rhiannon”

3,4: a petrol spill on the pavement, circles on a tree stump

For the love of all that’s good in the world… please shut the fuck up I thought to myself. I clenched my teeth, nodding in agreement as I tasted blood from biting the insides of my cheeks. I knew all I had to do was say yes in whatever way I saw fit and not to ask questions to avoid further ranting, this time directed at me specifically instead of the so-called ‘snowflake generation’ that I was a part of, looking back , that always seemed the best thing to do however I could’ve got myself into serious danger.

The calls and texts from Eri had stopped suddenly, at first I thought it was because they had exams at their new school so did nothing about it for a few weeks. Even now that was probably my worst mistake, cementing what I did afterwards as a certainty rather than a possibility.

I remembered the look on my teacher’s face in the hallway when I came to class that day. Human faces have always been a mystery to me, but on that day I knew what was going to come up during morning announcements and I knew that I just had to keep up the act though I'd never had to do it during something like this. A dark pit burrowed its way into my stomach so I clutched my stomach to the point that Sophie, one of the other girls noticed.

‘Hi, Rhiannon what’s up?” she looked down at my arms, crossed over the Nirvana logo on my t-shirt, “oh”

“Oh god, it’s not that,” I laugh awkwardly

‘I’m good , my results on that chemistry test however… yikes”

“Oh god, we get it back today, don’t we?”

‘ Yeah, but don’t even worry, you probably got like a 7 or something,”

“I wish, I’d be happy with a 4 on that”

We waited for our class to start, some of us rushed to finish late homework while the rest of us found a way to get past the school wi-fi and took turns playing some sort of game on Xander’s laptop. I sat cross-legged on the side of a desk, pretending to wait my turn but really staring into nothing, sick with worry for the inevitable.

Eventually, the teacher I saw in the hallway came to class. Everything faded to black, I was sure she just stood at the front of the classroom and pretended to be sad as she told us all that someone our age, who used to be in our class had gone and fucking killed themselves. The teacher had the same look of nothing in her eyes that I saw in my own, could I really be mad at her when I was just the same?

I tried to be the same as I always was but it fell to bits, at least I could use my dead friend, no soulmate (could I be sure of that though?) as an excuse for everything like this wasn’t how I’d always been.

I wasn’t even sure how to feel now that they were dead. Of course I did, I was the sort of person who didn’t even know how to feel when someone died.

As for the portrait, it was no longer of the ‘me’ people would recognise. Two ghostly figures stood listlessly in front of a slowly dying camelia bush. Beforeit stood two shadowy figures, they both looked as though they had drowned together, bound by a red ribbon that conjoined the two by their wrists. There were some differences though. One had bandages spiralling up their arms while the other figure’s were wrapped around her neck tightly enough to choke her. The first’s head was bowed in shame as they stood uneasily, only being held up by the other while the other stood with a sick sense of pride, half of her face was covered by an elaborate mask. It was the one picture of me, of us that I could see who i truly was and yet it made me feel vaguely sick every time I saw it

On the day everyone saw the contest entries, mine was ignored.Everyone walked past it, never giving it a first look. I waited and realised that maybe it was for the best they hadn’t noticed, after all this was my real face, our real faces. I stared at the other projects and the groups of people gathered around them as my face burned in caustic shame, then at the emptiness before me. I hadn’t told my parents about the art show, it was during class time anyway and I wasn’t sure they’d like the painting or worse, they’d find me out and stop liking me and I couldn’t face that idea even if they only liked me because of some unspoken law that said that they had to.

I swear I saw someone whip their neck rapidly before turning to their friend, a cold sharp breeze of dread blew coldly down my back, in all my years of performing, these two incidents were the only ones I was sure had happened. I can’t remember the rest of what happened at school that day. What I do remember, unfortunately, is what happened afterwards.

I told my parents some fake story about what a good day I’d had.

“We did high jump in PE today”

“Really, how did it go?”

“Brilliant, except for falling in front of the whole class” I let out a small laugh, praying it was convincing before leaving the car, running up to my room. I felt myself choking on tears as I ran up the staircase, my mask had slipped and I couldn’t let anyone see my real face , the one picture of which is probably still rotting in a store cupboard at the school - I’ll end my days before I take it home anyway.

As I locked the door to my room I had a horrific realisation, I truly wasn’t safe anywhere. There was always something, someone out there hoping to find out who or what I really was. Most people feel safest when they’re at home, they can be themselves while I didn't. I knew that my parents were good and I knew other parents could be worse therefore this had to be a problem with me, I couldn’t love properly and the only one I had experienced what I thought was love for had died and it was my own fault.

Maybe I’d done it on purpose, I think I was the sort of person to lead someone to die for my own gain, for attention. I’m sick but I wasn’t sure if I could ever be sorry for what I'd done as I hadn’t technically killed Eri, they had killed themselves but I had let them do it. Sobs wracked my body as I felt something for the first time in a while, if this was what it meant to be human then maybe I was blessed with the possibility of otherness . I balled up my fist and shoved it in my mouth, a gag in case my parents heard me. I could feel the metal of my braces dig into the skin on my knuckles, I tasted a metallic sourness and I wasn’t sure if it was from my throat or my hand.

My mouth tasted like blood when I cried.

I heard a car pull out of the driveway, I was alone now and I would be for a long time. I snuck down to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of something clear and expensive looking, when I opened it it smelled like a waiting room. I read in a book somewhere that if you drink enough you can forget everything for a second and this was the best time to try it.

Dear god, the idea of never remembering anything , being a blank slate and as innocent to myself as I was to anyone I had never known sounded better than anything ever could. I scrunched my nose and took a big gulp of whatever was in that bottle, my mouth and throat rung with pain, I thought I was dying of an allergic reaction but didn’t care and kept going drinking more and more until I stopped for a second, and felt my head spin around the room like I’d stood up too quickly. Looking at the considerable dent I’d made in the contents of that bottle I rushed to the kitchen sink in a panic, I felt like Alice In Wonderland as I clutched the bottle and ran through my house that was changing from big to small with each frenzied step and sterile breath I took. I hadn’t seen anyone drink this and I was pretty sure it was for cooking so nobody would notice if I added water.

I felt a suggestion of a person standing behind me, I didn’t know who they were, only that they were there, and I wasn’t in danger. I was home alone, nobody had come over- I didn’t feel like this around my parents. Was I hallucinating

Am I going insane?

They gestured for me and I followed them up the stairs into the bathroom, I didn’t care that they weren’t real. I was just happy to see them again.I remember asking myself Why did they need to go here?

I also don’t remember taking a small but sharp knife there. Unfortunately, I can fully remember what happened next. I sat on the cold tile floor ,looking up at the sun out of the window as it dyed the clouds a candyfloss pink.

I wondered what being dead or dying would feel like. Would all of this stop, I was sure there was nothing afterwards, that or some terrible incarnation of hell waiting for me. I thought back to a late night conversation I could only half remember. Eri and I were talking on one of our calls, I had the bright idea of distracting them from our collective suicidal thoughts by asking what they thought being dead was like. (genius, I know)

“I guess Being dead is kind of like sleeping with no dreams- I guess that’s the best way I’d describe it”

“So it’s like sleeping normally for me , I don’t dream, I’m not sure if I ever told you that”

I could never dream, I remember a lesson we had about dream analysis. I didn’t dream so I used a scene from a comic I was reading at the time. The teacher then made some comments about “humanity’ and ‘identity” then asked if I was in hospital a lot when I was younger. I wasn’t but in a way I always felt like I was diseased, corrupted even.

“I guessed from that lesson but yeah, it would feel like you were going to sleep- at least that’s what I think”

Another thought passed me by like the moon on a late night car journey- bright,momentous and impossible to ignore despite being so far away.

We were in yet another English class, this time we were told to write a love story. Eri, Elliot and I had a competition with these types of lessons: whoever wrote the most disturbing or ridiculous plot won. I was usually the winner of these, I could write exactly what I was thinking or feeling at the time and everyone would just see it as another joke, rather than a look into my head- red ink as opposed to blood streaming from my mouth. This time I was writing about a suicide pact between 2 people.

“Rhiannon… that was certainly original … a love suicide?” The teacher said, I’m sure we did her a favour, reading 12 of the same generic love story must’ve been dead boring (pun intended).

As I kept doing what I was doing, with the feeling that someone safe was behind me. I imagined them watching me, loving me, killing me. Something about their presence felt final for the both of us.Was I living out this specific story, my very own love suicide? The act itself was a lot prettier when I wrote about it. I'd styled it to be a way for the two of them to be in the afterlife together, I think. I can’t remember now…

I pressed it in harder this time, I could’ve sworn I hit bone at one point.

Another line. My head spun and spun. Is it wrong to be forced to live? surely choosing to die should be allowed if we don’t have a choice in being born. The ledge of the sink was slick and slippery, gears spun wildly in my head, how would I explain this if I was found, if I lived - who cares anyway, I’ll be dead then.

I’m so cold now, it’s too cold to sleep, why is it so cold?

could this be the uneasiness that lies in being loved?

The sun had set, it was dark and my eyes were only seeing blurs of what I prayed were passing car lights.

It’s warmer now.

I’m …. I'm so sleepy.

Everything went black as I crumpled in a heap on the bathroom floor, everything was right for a second. I did the right thing, everyone would be okay now.

That’s what I thought at least.

#dark writing #writeblr #mental illness #psychological drama #teen canon event #angst #this chapter is responsible for most of the content warnings

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veshialles · 2 years

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The interaction with Sera after Adamant makes me so insane when playing as Valyhra.

Like they’re both roughly the same age (20-something), and they start talking about Grey Wardens and The Battle Of Denerim, and while The Hero Of Ferelden’s victory was barely even a memory from Sera’s point of view, Valyhra more or less grew up on stories about The Warden’s adventures and came to idolize her because she hadn’t heard many stories about heroic elves outside of the Dalish oral traditions and writings.

And now here Valyhra is stepping up to become a hero herself, leading the fight against Corypheus’ forces.

Which in turn ties back to all those years ago when Kieshara was in the alienage desperately avoiding her wedding, sitting down to talk with those kids who told her they had never heard of any elven heroes, and so she invented one on the spot (Tathas the elven bandit), and it all just makes me feel so. so..... *screams*

#not to even mention that Sera remembers playing with a Small Painted Box {plot item}#which means in a way Sera's life has been more directly affected by Kieshara's actions than Valyhra #which is like if you had a favourite rockstar and your friend who hasn't even heard of that band just happened to own a signed t-shirt #and they said it was their favourite t-shirt to wear before they grew out of it #OH AND ALSO YOU FIND OUT THEY GREW UP IN THE SAME NEIGHBORHOOD #i am sobbing over this ngl #i can't even say anything coherent about it #something something the power of representation and how different people feel represented by different things #valyhra lavellan #kieshara tabris #dragon age #inquisitor lavellan #sera #warden tabris #here lies the abyss #a day for celebration #friends of red jenny #ruby's ocs

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magewritesstories · 2 years

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[ ᴊᴏᴇʏ ᴛʀɪʙʙɪᴀɴɪ ] ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʜ ɴᴏ

summary: You come knocking at Phoebe's door in the middle of the night because you've had a realisation about your relationship with Joey. TW: none note: a little imagine for my favourite Himbo.

"Phoebe open up, it's an emergency!" You shouted, pounding on your best friend's apartment door. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" She shouted back from behind the door.

After a few seconds, the door opened to reveal a very disgruntled Phoebe. She was wearing some shorts and what looked like Mike's T-shirt. "What's wrong, Y/N?" She asked worriedly, you'd never visited her this late at night before.

"I really needed to talk to you I'm sorry for waking you up," You said apologetically. Phoebe shook her head, "Oh no, it's fine, I love having you around!" She said, "But what's wrong, it's pretty late?"

You stepped into the apartment and flopped onto her couch. "Well, you might want to sit down for this one..."You said. Seemingly out of nowhere she handed you a cup of hot cocoa, and sat down.

"So, have you ever had a really close friend, and you love them, like in platonic way. But then they do this one small thing and you have this feeling of Oh, Oh no..?" You asked. Phoebe shook her head; "No, but continue."

"Well, I kind of had that feeling today..." You mumbled. Phoebe's eyes grew wide, "Oh. My. God!" She shouted, "Who?!" You mumbled something incoherently, "What?" You mumbled again, but Phoebe still didn't hear you.

"Joey!" You shouted finally. "Wha– tell me everything." Phoebe said, getting more comfortable in her position.

"Wow, that was fun," You said between laughs, putting down your bag on the floor next to the Foosball table. Joey grinned, "I told you, if you were my girlfriend we would be having even more fun right now." You laughed as he shamelessly tried to flirt with you.

This wasn't anything new. Every few months the two of you would go out on a "date". The two of you would act like you hadn't been friends for years and act like you would on a normal date. Until you walked into the apartment. Although you had come up with the no kissing rule, much to Joey's dismay.

You walked into your room and quickly changed out of the black dress into more comfortable clothes ( Joey's old Nicks T-shirt that was too big for you and a pair of shorts.) Out of the corner of you eye you saw the DVD of Scream.

"Hey Joe, wanna stay up and watch some horror movies?" You asked. "But you hate them?" Joey asked, walking out of his room. You shrugged, grabbing some extra blankets, "That's half the fun, right?" And soon the two of you were snuggled up in the barcalounger.

Halfway through the movie you were practically hiding behind Joey. He laughed at you, "What was that about half the fun?" He asked teasingly. "Shut up," You said, but your sound was muffled by his sweater, since you were half turned away from the TV now. Joey laughed at you before reaching for the remote. "I think that's enough horror films for you," he said turning of the TV. He quickly planted a kiss on your forehead before walking back into his room, "'Night!"

You smiled and relaxed into your seat.

So cute.

Wait, no, did you just call Joey cute?!

You shook your head wildly, no, no way... Although, maybe...

Uh oh

Oh no.

#ross geller #rachel green #chandler bing #joey tribbiani #joey tribbiani x reader #monica geller #friends tv #friends #friends tv show

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nicohischierz · 2 years

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you belong with me: matthew knies

tagging: @cuttergauth @tpwkvirgi80 @mackieraymond @hockey-lover86 and fellow taylor swift fan @1-800-iluvhockey

you and matthew have been best friends since before the two of you could walk. your parents had been best friends and now the two of you were as well.

growing up, you couldn’t help but develop a crush on your best friend. matthew had been with. you through every up and down of your life; now he became the popular hockey player and you felt as if you were becoming invisible to him.

You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset

She's going off about something that you said

'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do

you sat in matthew’s room, spinning on his desk chair bored out of your mind. the two of you were supposed to have a movie night, but his girlfriend had called an hour ago to complain.

apparently, matthew made a comment that didn’t sit too well with her and her friends.

when matthew told you the joke you found it hilarious. but of course you and his girlfriend had different personalities and grew up under different circumstances.

“god, sometimes she can be so overbearing,” matthew moaned as fell next to you on the bed. you shook your head and pushed him slightly.

“she’s your girlfriend matt, you can’t call her overbearing.”

I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night

I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like

And she'll never know your story like I do

tuesday’s after practice matthew always came over to your room. the two of you always had sleepovers and this tuesday was no different.

when matthew walked in to your house he smiled at the faint melody of his favourite song in the distance. his favourite thing about you was how similar your music taste was.

“finally, some good music,” matthew announced his presence.

you smiled up at him and ran over for a hug. you didn’t care that you had seen him eight hours ago. matthew’s hugs were the best ever and you always found yourself in need of one.

that night you and matthew lay in your bed talking about different points in your childhood. ones he felt his girlfriend wouldn’t understand because she wasn’t there.

you were.

But she wears short skirts

I wear T-shirts

She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers

tonight matthew had his first game as a minnesota gopher.

you were ecstatic for your best friend. you stood in the stand with his parents as you watched your boy on the ice.

after the game, matthew met up with you and his parents, his girlfriend beside him.

taking a quick glance at her outfit, you suddenly felt self conscious of what you were wearing.

she was wearing a yellow top with white pants, in support of the gophers, along with one of matthew’s jackets and a beanie. and she looked gorgeous.

you on the other hand were wearing one of matthew’s old jerseys you’d stolen along with a pair of his sweatpants. or maybe it was his brothers sweatpants?

matthew’s girlfriend greeted his parents and explained that her and a couple other girlfriends decided to go down near the ice and be the boys personal cheerleaders.

‘of course they would,’ you thought to yourself. they were all built like cheerleaders and you were built like a band student.

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find

That what you're looking for has been here the whole time

matthews teammate brock faber was the only one who knew of your crush on your best friend. the minnesota native would go out of his way to make you comfortable around everyone, especially when matthew was gone.

today at a party specifically for student athletes, you found matthew around you more often. his girlfriend was out of town for the weekend, so he resulted to spending time with his best friend.

he thought the two of you would be together like old time. but he was wrong.

upon entering the crowded campus house, matthew spotted you in a long embrace with brock. his fists clenched by his sides as watched the two of you laugh with the other.

after that interaction matthew did everything in his power to keep the two of you apart and honestly he felt so much more at peace that night.

he enjoyed your presence, more than he normally would.

If you could see that I'm the one

Who understands you

Been here all along

So, why can't you see?

matthew’s and his girlfriend decided to split up. again.

and just like every other time, he found himself surrounded by his teammates, his closest friends, yet he felt like something was missing.

his heart jumped as he saw you walk into your house next door. his eyes trained on your movements and how you seemed so shy but confident with every step.

that night he called you once again to vent out his frustrations like he always did when he fought with his girlfriend.

but this time matthew couldn’t help but assume that you were distracted.

you were lying against your bedhead listening to him, on facetime. but your eyes were concentrated on something in front of you.

matthew grew annoyed at your lack of attention and scoffed at you. “god y/n, if you have more important things to do please don’t waste your time with me,” he chastised, ending the call.

“y/n/n, can we go play now?” your cousin asked. you were slighlty stunned but nodded anyway. you didn’t understand why matthew was frustrated with you.

after all, you are the only one who listens to him complain day in and day out every time he has a fight with his girlfriend.

You belong with me

when you and matthew were younger, you always played family with your siblings. you and matthew would be the parents and your siblings would either be the pet or the children.

one day, your mothers caught you and matthew trying to steal one of their wedding dresses.

“matt, it’s too big,” you giggled as you stood in the wedding dress, the bottom was pooling at your feet and the straps were slipping off your shoulders.

matthew laughed with you and held the dress up as the two of you scurried over to the living room. “what are you doing?” your mother asked as the two of you tried not to trip over.

“y/n and i are going to get married and be happy like you and dad,” he called as the two of you reached your hand-made alter. y

our sister was your made of honour and matthew’s brother was his best man. your parents had found themselves seats on the couch and watched as the two of you had your fake marriage.

when it was time to kiss the bride, you gave your left hand for matthew to kiss. matthew excepted your hand and then kissed your nose. you scrunched your nose up and stuck your tongue out at matthew.

that night you and matthew had a sleepover, where the two of you promised to get married to each other before you turn thirty.

Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans

I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be

Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself

Hey, isn't this easy?

matthew got back together with his girlfriend again. the two of them were always at his house, it got to a point where matthew’s brother would come over to your house and spend time with you.

today however, matthew decided to leave his girlfriend and spend time with you.

the two of you were sat outside on the bench between your houses. matthew was wearing his favourite pair of jeans with a silly shirt you bought him for christmas.

matthew recounted everything that happened the past week between his teammates.

you couldn’t remember the last time you saw matthew smile the way he was now. you’d missed his smile. and his laugh.

And you've got a smile

That can light up this whole town

I haven't seen it in a while

Since she brought you down

matthe was always a lively boy who enjoyed a good joke. that was until he met her.

she could never handle one of his jokes and made a big deal out of them.

everyone who knew matthew knew what she was doing to him and told him on multiple occasions about her ways. but he never listened.

he was too far caught up with her charm.

so you watched from the sidelines as your best friends bright light dimmed over time.

You say you're fine, I know you better than that

Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?

september 19th was a day you would always remember.

it was the day you and matthew had your first ever fight. sure the two of you would have minor arguments but this was a major fight.

a fight that ended with tears and promises to never bother the other.

it was the fight that ended your friendship.

matthew had promised to spend the day with you shopping for a dress for your cousins wedding. matthew was your date for the day and he wanted to make sure the two of you matched.

but when you arrived at the knies household to see matthew getting ready to leave with his girlfriend to the lake you snapped.

this wasn’t the first time he had moved plans for you. and whilst you understood his commitment to his girlfriend, you thought your friendship meant more to him.

you tried having a normal conversation with him, asking if they could possible postpone their trip to the lake for a later date. his girlfriend interjected by saying you were being too clingy.

“y/n, why don’t you go buy a dress and i’ll make sure my tie is the same colour or something alright,” he told you.

you shook your head “no.”

“you promised me matthew. you promised to come shopping with me today. we spent a whole week trying to come up with a date that fit with both our schedules and today was that day,” you ranted.

matthew took one step towards you “look y/n/n, you’re my best friend and i’m sorry for this but i want to show her the spot by the lake.”

for the first time in your eighteen years of friendship you slapped matthew across the face.

it was one thing that he was blowing you off again but it was another for him to take a girl who hated you to your special spot. the spot you showed matthew when you were at your lowest.

“don’t you dare take her to my spot!”

“i can take her wherever the hell i want. god y/n why do you have to be so controlling!”

“i’m not controlling!”

“yes you are! god i feel so suffocated being your friend.”

“then don’t be my friend,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face now.

matthew was a bit baffled by your response. hurt flashed across his face before he sighed “fine,”

She wears high heels

I wear sneakers

She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find

That what you're looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I'm the one

Who understands you

Been here all along

So, why can't you see?

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor

All this time how could you not know, baby?

matthew felt your absence the most.

he found himself being unable to wake up and be happy about something when he knew you weren’t going to be with him through the day.

so he waited.

matthew waited outside your house for you everyday but you never showed up.

he would wait day and night for you on your swing set. your mother would watch him from the window and cover him up every night.

You belong with me

Oh, I remember you driving to my house

In the middle of the night

I'm the one who makes you laugh

When you know you're 'bout to cry

And I know your favorite songs

And you tell me 'bout your dreams

Think I know where you belong

Think I know it's with me

Can't you see that I'm the one

Who understands you?

matthew finally broke up with his girlfriend. for good.

after a month of not being with you he couldn’t take it anymore.

he hated seeing you with his friends when couldn’t be with you. how you would laugh with brock whilst he was stuck with his girlfriend and her gaggle of girls.

he came to his senses after he saw his mother pull up a video of yours and matthews wedding.

you were always so kind and patient with him and all he did to you was bring you pain.

it was then that matthew realised he wanted to spend his whole life with you by his side.

he wanted to make your fake wedding a reality.

Been here all along

So, why can't you see?

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor

All this time how could you not know, baby?

on october 20th matthew knies was stood at your backdoor with flowers in hand. you were shocked to say the least, he was never one for grand gestures.

“matthew what are you doing here?” you asked slightly baffled.

the boy entered the house, placed the flowers on the counter and brought you in for a kiss.

at first you didn’t respond, startled, but then you melted into his hold and responded.

you pulled away slightly to catch your breath, and to ask what he was doing, when he ran his thumb over your cheek.

“i love you y/n, i love you so much and i’m so sorry it took me so long to realise that you belong with me,”

you smiled over at him and brought him in for another kiss.

You belong with me

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me?

You belong with me

#matthew knies #nicohischierz writes

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Please could you write one with Grealish where you’re a Chelsea fan so refuse to wear a Villa shirt with his name on, and for bants Mount gets you a Chelsea shirt with his name and Jack gets all pouty?

omg I love this idea!! gets very smutty at the end ;) enjoy!

Villa Boy

A love for Chelsea had been something you adapted and grew to into as a young girl. Your dad was never entirely sure how to bond with his only daughter and your mother told him just to include you in what he loved. And so came your season pass with a little lanyard that still hung proudly in your childhood room right next to a shirt mounted in a glass photo frame with Frank Lampard's signature scrawled along the eight on the back.

It was actually how you met Jack in the first place, which is the only one single reason that he has for liking your club affiliation. Otherwise, it was one of the most annoying things in his world. It was often a source of teasing and taunting, you saying your team was better than his and him swaggering home and gloating for weeks when Aston Villa take a win over Chelsea. It was the bane of his life that he couldn't get you into that claret and blue. Not even to sleep in or wear around the house, you just would not dare put it on.

"I would feel my dad's shame emanate through the walls, maybe it would kill him. And then I'd lose every morsel of self respect I have, so not a chance." You'd snort, not even giving him a window for more persuasion.

His England shirt? that was fair game. You'd wear that with pride, to the shops, round the house, walking the dog and especially at his games but there was just absolutely no chance of getting you into his Villa shirt.

Though Jack may never admit it, it was one of his biggest wants. Seeing you in his England short was nothing short revolutionary - he'd said. It only made him want to see you in the Villa shirt more. That was his childhood club, getting to captain that was one of his biggest achievements and while he knew you were absolutely proud of him. You were the most proud and encouraging person in his life and there were no ifs buts or maybes in that.

But my god he knew you'd look fit in that claret and blue.

No matter how much it annoyed him, he wouldn't get you out of the darker blue home jersey of your favourite club no matter what he did. It was something he had come to accept over the course of your relationship, it was by and large fine.

Until that jersey said someone else's name across the back.

"Awh come on!" He yelps, mouth dropped open as you emerge into the kitchen with your toothbrush hanging out your mouth and only one shoe on. Jack knows you slept in because he switched off your alarm last night in hopes you'd miss the game, but Jack dropped a bowl when he tripped over the dog and woke you up anyway.

You going to the Villa v Chelsea game in a Chelsea shirt was bad enough, but now he's just clocked something that's sent his mind firing a mile a minute.

MOUNT

Not a fucking chance.

"Oi, you!" He calls out, throwing himself off the chair at the kitchen island, his feet fumbling over one another to get after you as quickly as possible. "What's up, Jack?" You hum innocently, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you stand in the doorway shoving on your other shoe. "Is something the matter?"

Jack gawks, opening and closing his mouth awaiting words to find his frazzled brain. "Yes!" He squeaks, a tone you'd never heard from a man before, let along your very deep voiced man. "There's no way that you're- what are you doing? Come back." He groans, his feet shuffling after you as you walk back through the house to find your car keys. "We're going to be late if you don't hurry up." You note sweetly, Jack drops his jaw. "We're not going anywhere until-"

"Hi Mason, yeah I got it. Fits like glove actually. Yeah, we're just leaving now. I'll meet you in the car park."

Jack's face was literally priceless. His agape, eye's wild, brows furrowed. A pout settles itself firmly into his lips the second he sits in the car with his arms folded over his chest like a toddler. You have to physically stifle a laugh at him as you beam the entire drive to Villa Park.

"M' gonna burn that." He states. You cast him a glance out the corner of your eye as you pull into the players parking. A snigger escapes despite your very best efforts and Jack resumes his frontward glare at the dashboard with his lips in a firm line. "Gonna win this game, burn that shirt and knock Mount flat."

You know he's not being serious about Mason. He's very fond of the player when they're on the same side. But you had become very close friends with him through the mutual love for the club he plays at and Jack absolutely despised that. He wasn't the kind to be bothered by your friends even to a moderate degree and even here he trusted you, he just fucking hated the concept of another club and another mans name over your back. It ticked him right off.

You know this very well. You knew what you were getting into the second Mason handed you that dark blue shirt. It was all fun and games really. You loved the club but you only wore the Mount shirt to get under Jack's skin. You thought it might even throw off his game a little.

The second he stormed onto the pitch and scored a goal 5 minutes into the game, you figured that might not be the case.

Every opportunity, every goal, every opening and every single tackle, Jack turned to you. He turned to you with fire in those brown eyes, sending you a cheeky wink. His passion, the very serious look etched onto his features and the way he was looking at you was fuelling a very different kind of fire in you.

Jack played the whole 90 minutes and he took Mason Mount down at every single given opportunity in a careful way that just evaded him getting a yellow card. He finished hot, sweaty and with a man of the match trophy for 2 goals and one assist with a majority of the game spent with the ball at his feet.

The 3 nil win should have been a lot more disappointing that it was, but he just looked so fucking good. The sweat stuck his hair to his temples, his muscles tight and protruding through exertion as he walks off the field after shaking every hand.

You're standing just outside the tunnel with Mason and John McGinn standing with you, talking about the match mostly. John makes a joke about you wearing that top more often, seems to be a good luck charm for Villa even if it's the opposing team. Mason scoffs and says; "More like an angry boyfriend wants to murder me charm."

That's when Jack appears and John barely gets his mouth open to greet him before Jack shoulders through the two footballers. His mouth finds your immediately. Hot, passionate, fiery and filled with his dominance.

He pulls back and grabs onto your hand tightly with his back to the two midfielders. Jack twists his body round with a daggering glare.

"Nobody," Jack growls, "fucks around with girl."

His tone, deep and gravelly, only serves to dampen your panties further in a way that makes your clench your legs together.

Jack's done with pouting, the teasing can resume later. For now, he's dragging you by the hand to a darkened conference room. Hiking you up his body before setting you on the table that sits at a miraculously perfect height that places you right against his bulge.

He wastes no time whatsoever ripping down your leggings and panties, his fingers finding you immediately to swirl pressured motions around your sensitive clit. "Ahh, who's got you moaning like that baby?" He rumbles, words vibrating through your lips.

"You Jack, oh god, you!" You pant as his fingers leave you feeling empty and needy. Jack easily tugs down his shorts and pulls himself out of his boxers to line up with your entrance. His victory sex is hot always, but usually there was a dry spell after a Villa v Chelsea game, so it had never been this hot.

"And who am I?" He grunts, pushing himself into you to hear your shuddering squeak of pleasure. He lays you down over the table, hands following you under your shirt to carefully and tentatively swirl his fingers over your nipples from under your bra. "Oh god, Jack," you move your hands to the hem of the blue shirt to lift it over your head, but Jack's hands stop them before you have the chance.

"No, no, no," he chastises with a smirk, "Want to fuck you in their colours," He continues to thrust roughly into you with each heavy breath, mouth and squeak that escapes you only spurring him on. "Want to fuck you with his name on your back, baby. Remind you who you belong to."

You shudder in pleasure with the feeling of his lips attaching to your neck, letting out a shaky, heavy breath as he snakes a hand down between you to swirl those circles around your more pleasureful spot once again. He knows the intricate details of your body better than any man ever has and he always ensures he uses it to his advantage, but nothing like today. His lips on the sweet spot of your neck, hitting and stretching you perfect between your legs with masterful work of his fingers pushing you closer and closer with each second that passed.

"Fuck , I'm so close-"

"Who's making you feel so good, baby?" He pants, skin slapping and heavy breathing echoing around the room. "You, Jack. You!"

"Not a Chelsea boy eh?" He grunts, teeth nibbling down over your collarbone. "Not a Chelsea boy baby is it?" He reiterates, pairing the movements of his hand only until you snap open your eyes again, "No Jack, it's all you. not a- oh god!"

Jack breathes a chuckle into your ear with an appreciative hum to follow.

"Yeah, Villa Captain isn't it? You're screaming out for a Villa boy, ain't ya?" He coaxes, edging you further and further as he speeds up to a pace he's never quite hit you with before. The adrenaline of the match, the irritation of that blue jersey and the passion for the win colliding to give him an energy he's never yet had. Watching your eyes roll beneath him wearing that stupid blue entices him on, only makes him want to pleasure you more if even possible. "Yes! Yes, I am, oh god just don't stop."

"Go on then," he encourages, voice deep in your ear. "Come undone for the Villa Captain baby."

He didn't have to tell you twice, that was for sure. The sight of your eyes fluttering, the feeling of you clenching around him with a steam of, "Fuck yes Jack!" sends him tumbling over the edge of his orgasm right after you, a strangle cry out of your name as it wracks through him.

When he lays down beside you in the table that very surpassingly withstood the pace of your antics, you're both breathless and shining with sweat. Your legs feel like jelly as you still throb from the pleasure. Jack turns his head to you with a lazy smirk, brushing some hair off your forehead as you turn to look at him.

"Well, I certainly do love a Villa boy."

#jack grealish smut #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish imagines #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish imagine #england national team imagine #england national team #footballer fics #football fics #footie fics

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radiosandrecordings · 3 years

Text

I found the start of a script I was working on in.. apparently June last year. It was supposed to be for a podfic because I wanted to do my own travelling-to-the-safehouse fic but apparently this is as far as I got. I think it’s pretty good though so may as well post it. Left in all the ah... More creative notes I was apparently giving myself for direction. [Tape clicks on]

[Sound of two sets of footsteps on stone, reverberating around a confined tunnel. Possibly water drip?]

JON [Firm, but soft. Like a memory foam mattress.] Martin? Are you still with me?

MARTIN [As if distracted, snapping back to himself] … What? Oh, yes, yes, still… Still here. Sorry it’s just- [He falters, struggling for the words] Hard. With- With everything. It’s all a bit… [A pause. He’s making vague hand gestures with one hand.] A bit much.

JON [Flatly] Oh. [Realising] Oh!- Do you- Do you want me to let go of your-

[Walking stops around here]

MARTIN (OVERLAPPING) [Firmly, almost panicked] No! Uh- No. No. This is… This is good.

JON [Trying not to sound pleased. Failing] Oh! Uh- Good. Good.

[Several beats of silence as the walking starts up again]

MARTIN … It’s grounding, really. Everything else is… A lot. Even breathing feels weird. I’m too… Hyper-aware. Of my own lungs. Not sure I breathed in there, not properly anyway. You just kind of dissolve into the background. Even yourself is too much company. Your whole body just kind of feels like a limb you’ve been sitting on too long, all the blood flowed out of it. So it’s… Nice. To have you. As a- As a focus point.

JON [Muttered] Something to be said about anchors, and all that.

MARTIN What was that?

JON Nothing, just a… Bit of a personal joke.

JON (CONT’D) Anyway. I think there’s light ahead, hopefully this should be the end of the tunnel. No idea where it’ll spit us out though.

MARTIN Guess we’ll see.

[Beat]

Just… Don’t let go?

JON [Unbearly fond. Get it together, gayboy] ‘Course not.

[Tape clicks off]

[Tape clicks on]

[They’re outside. There are outside noises. You know what those sound like, don’t you? I know you’ve been at home for 3 months but please. Please try and remember. Is there wind outside? Maybe a pigeon? It’s south bank there has to be pigeons. You remember pigeons, right? Also, river noises. Boat.]

MARTIN Are we at-

JON (OVERLAPPING) Southbank. Yes.

MARTIN Southbank? But the river, we’d have to have-

JON (OVERLAPPING) Yes, I’m… Not quite sure the same physics applies, when it comes to those tunnels. They’ve spent more time being moved around by a Leitner than not. I think they end where they want to end. Bloody miracle we’re not halfway to Twickenham. Or still in London at all for that matter.

MARTIN ...Right.

[He absolutely does not get it]

MARTIN (CONT’D) [He lets out a breath] Can we just- Can we just sit? For a minute?

JON [Quiet] Of course, of course…

[Movement as they make their way to a bench and sit]

[A seagull squawks overhead]

MARTIN The sunrise is nice…

JON [Clearly not looking at the sunrise] Yeah, it is…

MARTIN Do you have any idea what time it is?

JON I’d say… Just coming up on seven.

MARTIN What, Beholding goes to the trouble of telling you that and it can’t even pin it to the minute?

JON Martin, not to sound like the most stereotypical Englishman in the world, but we’re on South Bank. I just looked over at Big Ben.

MARTIN Oh- Er- Right.

[A sigh. He relaxes from all the wound up tension]

… God it really is just there isn’t it. Like, it’s one of those things that, if you didn’t grow up here, you don’t really get that it’s… Real, y’know? It’s like, you can see it every day and never quite get past the notion that it’s something that only exists as… Cheap, shitty fridge magnets and… And novelty t-shirts.

… Does that make sense? No, no sorry I’m rambling-

JON (CUTTING HIM OFF) [Quick, reassuring] No, no I get what you mean.

[A pause. He’s searching for something to fill the empty air, desperate not to leave a silence between them. It’s only tangentially on topic, but it will do]

… I grew up in Bournemouth. Did I ever tell you that?

MARTIN [Voice slightly shaky, but solidifying] Not in as many words, no. I think you mentioned it, on a… Tape. At some point. Not directly.

[He hesitates]

… Do you want to tell me about it?

JON [Hesitant. He may not have been Lonely, but he’s spent a fair amount of time trying to diminish himself] Only if you want me to.

MARTIN But do you want to tell me about it?

JON [Meekly] … Probably not the best story for now, actually. Not terribly interesting. And when it is, it’s just a bit… Miserable, really. Childhood orphaning never really leads upwards in the ways Dickens would have you believe.

MARTIN ...Some other time then?

JON [Stumbles slightly, as if shocked by the knowledge that there will be times that aren’t this. NOW YOU’VE THROWN HIM OFF HIS RHYTHM!] Y-yes. Some other time.

[Pause. 5 Seconds? Ambience. Sound of voices around has started to filter in.]

JON [Slow] I was just… I was thinking. About what- What Peter Lukas said, back in… [With vehemence] There. And how it was… Partially true, in a way. We may not know each that well but… I’d like to change that. If- If you do.

MARTIN [Soft] I would like that.

[Content hum]

… Tell me something non-miserable, then.

JON What?

MARTIN About yourself. Something that isn’t, I dunno, doom and gloom. What about, mmm, favourite colour?

JON [Amused, mock scolding] Are you five?

MARTIN Humour me!

JON Fine, fine… Actually, no.

MARTIN No?

JON No, you tell me what you think it is.

MARTIN [Under his breath] I tell you what I think…

[Contemplative] Okay. Okay. What is… What is Jonathan Sims’ favourite colour… You used to wear a lot of green around the office, dark jumpers and tweed jackets and stuff… But I’m half convinced you just thought it was a ‘professional’ colour, to match your fancy new job. I think it’s… I think it’s purple.

JON [Surprised] Purple? Why

MARTIN When… When you were in the hospital… Georgie stuck some photos up on the wall next to your bed. Old ones, polaroids, but in a kind of artsy way since they clearly weren’t from anywhere before the 2000′s. They were you in uni, and you had this ridiculous purple streak in your hair. So… Purple.

JON [Quietly mouthing the words along, not quite processing] Had a purple streak in Uni…

[Startled, just processed fully the implications] Wait, you met Georgie?

MARTIN Not in the hospital, a bit later in the Institute yeah, but… That’s another story for later. No, we never met in the hospital, I never quite felt…

[Grimace] Up to company, when I was there.

JON Right, of course. I remember that, though. Some time in my second year; I got a bit tired of people assuming I was a post-grad student and thought I’d try and dye my grey streaks purple. It fit in with the sort of… Aesthetic, I was cultivating at the time.

MARTIN [Absentmindedly, almost as if he doesn’t realise he’s saying it] I always liked your grey streaks.

JON [Shocked Pikachu but he’s got Dreamworks single raised eyebrow syndrome] Oh?

MARTIN [Oh shit, oh fuck, did I say that out loud] It’s just… Y’know. Nice. Not something you should want to hide.

[Quickly changing the subject] … You didn’t answer though. Am I right or wrong?

JON [Slow, amused. In a visual medium he’d be spreading his hands out] You got me.

MARTIN [Inordinately pleased] Really? Huh. Okay. Guess mine. And no Knowing!

JON Oh, gosh, uhm… Yellow?

MARTIN [Hah!] Green!

JON [Audibly :D because Martin laughed] Green? Why?

MARTIN [Hummed] Mm, I dunno. Just something about it.

[Volume of crowd has increased considerably now]

MARTIN [Slightly more nervous. The slight break in conversation gave him time to notice the people beginning to crowd around]

I apparently didn’t get to include it in the script, but it was going to be a reveal later that actually, Jon doesn’t have a favourite colour. He just agreed because he wanted to make Martin happy.

#My Post #My Writing #The Magnus Archives #Jonmartin

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years

Text

OBSESSIVE STOLAS x Male Imp pt.5

(Hold up!!! Before you read this, at the bottom I've left links to the first 4 parts. Go read them first, so youve got all the back story.)

((This is a long fanfic and will consist of multiple parts.)

True to your word, you sent him the address later that day.

You agreed to meet up in the afternoon, telling him the meeting up time to meet.

Stolas had suggested a dinner date, but you had turned that down for some reason, telling him you had a better idea.

You had actually asked him on a date.

So happy was he, the rest of the day seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, the owl caught in a blissful haze.

Eventually it was dinner time, where the prince found himself eating alone, again.

He hadn't eaten with his family since, well you know.

He chose something simple.

Leftovers.

Grabbing the plate of last night's roast, he popped them into the microwave.

As he waited for his meal to heat, he quickly scrolled through his phone.

He was checking your voxtigram again, enjoying the collection of photos of you.

As he looked through he found the picture of you and Blitzø, the sight sending a pang of regret through his chest.

It was strange to think, just a day ago, he'd been head over heels for the Imp. Totally infatuated with him, and now... now he knew the truth.

Blitzø saw him as a meal ticket,nothing more.

He was just way to get to the living realm. What an idiot he'd been, a few kind words, a bit of sex there and he was totally under Blitzøs spell. He felt like an idiot.

His eyes shifted to you, and such warmth bloomed through his chest.

But you. You were genuine. You didn't want money or power, you wanted to make him happy.

You wanted to actually spend time with him, he wasn't just a meal ticket to you, he was someone worthy of love an attention.

He knew you weren't in love with him, not yet, but you would be, he'd show you just how worthy he was of your love.

His thoughts were interrupted by his dinner finished heating up.

He ate in silence, Stolas spending the whole time staring at the pictures of you.

After dinner he went for a shower, the hot water cascading down his body, the heat reminding him of the warmth you brought him just a day ago.

His thought slid to his time with you, fantasising about how intimate, how delicate and seductive you'd been.

The complete opposite of Blitzø.

His thighs ground together, his breath picking up as he slid a hand between his thighs.

He imagined you, holding him close, treating him like that delicate work of art, bringing him pleasure he didn't know existed.

Pleasure racked his body, his breathing hitched. And before he knew it, a mind shattering orgasm wracked his body.

After recovering from his little self pleasuring, he cleaned himself up and got out of the shower.

Walking into his room, he fell on his bed, feeling quiet satisfied. Curling up in bed, he fantasied about what the next day could hold for him.

He had a dreamless sleep that night waking up later than he had the morning prior, finding himself again, well rested.

Getting up, he went about his usual morning routine, all the way until he chose his outfit.

You had said something about wine, so did that mean it was more of a fine dining establishment. But you had said a pizza place right? So was it more of a casual, family restaurant.

He spent nearly half an hour thinking it over before he just decided to text you.

Stolas: Is there a dress code for tonight? I'm just picking out my outfit and don't want to come over dressed, I want something that to wow! you.

(Y/N): Hehehe, not really. Pick something casual and probably bring a coat as well, It gets kinda chilly out there at night.

(Y/N): We'll only be staying at the restaurant to eat, then I've got something planned for afterwards elsewhere.

Stolas: Is that so? And what have you got planned, something exciting I hope.

(Y/N): Nu uh, no hints. You'll just have to wait till tonight.

Stolas: Not even a little hint? 🥺🥺🥺

(Y/N): Nope, but I can promise it'll at least be the most romantic thing an Imp has ever done for you.

That kinda stung, bringing many unwanted memories to the forefront of his mind. You quickly texted again,

(Y/N): Fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything like that. I just, doubt an Imp like me could match the typical royal date.

Stolas: it's alright, I understand what you meant.

(Y/N): But I can promise it'll be the most romantic thing someone's done with you on a budget.

Stolas actually laughed at that, falling onto his bed like a teenager. The two of you exchanged a little more info, before he finally picked an outfit.

He chose a fairly simple outfit; A stylish pair of jeans, a simple red and black T-shirt with a rather attractive heart pattern across it and then it was one of his favourite leather jackets with a beautiful fur collar

He left the manor grounds just as the sun began to set, the city night-life around the manor already beginning to pick up.

It was a fairly short drive, most people knowing to stay out of the way of a royal limousines.

Finding the street and location you'd described, he had the limo park in front of a rather unassuming building, not really looking any different from the hundred other boarded up buildings on the block.

Getting out, he stood there for a few minutes before he heard you call out. 'Hey good lookin, looking for a good time?' Turning around, he found you approaching.

You carried a simple wicker basket, wearing a humble, yet fitting attire,

You wore a stylish black T-shirt that seemed to just cling to all the right places, your jeans were faded, but not enough to warrant throwing out. And a pair of simple black shoes.

When you got closer, the demon piped up, 'If you were planning a picnic, the basket kind of gives it away.' He told you playfully.

You released a laugh, shaking your head. 'Nah, all that's already set up. I just don't wanna carry everything from here to there by hand.' You told him simply.

'Ooooh' he cood, 'and what is it your getting here, hmm?' He asked, playfully gesturing to the building.

'Oh you know, this and that, you'll be surprised how much they serve here.' You told him just as playful.

Stolas stood up before looking around, 'Speaking of what they serve here', I can't help but wonder where "here" is, this doesn't exactly look like a restaurant.' He told you, gesturing to the rather dull wall of buildings before you.

You just chuckled, looking up at the prince before telling him, 'Dont judge a book by its cover, dear prince of mine' you told him playfully.

You hadn't realised it, but when you called him yours, it sent a wave of euphoria through the owl that he simply couldn't describe.

His mind was addled, the owl clutched himself as he watched you speak, to caught up in this feeling to catch what you said.

He was snapped from his stupor, when he found you were looking up at him, seemingly expecting a response.

The owl panicked, snapping to attention and blurting out, 'Of course, words to live by,' before he just stood there, smiling like an idiot.

You stared at him for several moments, the awkwardness so palpable you could practically see it in the air.

After another moment, Stolas shook his head, 'S-sorry, uh, what was that last thing?' He asked, trying to salvage the situation.

You chuckled, shaking your head, 'nothin, let's go shall we?' You asked him, stepping forward.

He followed close behind, following you into a nearby alleyway.

He followed in silence, but as your path grew longer he decided to ask where you were going. Only for you to suddenly stop and turn towards a large metal shudder.

Looking up at him, you did a little knock on the shudder, before just standing there.

A few minutes pass by before Stolas whispered, 'what are we waiting for?'

You laughed at that, before telling him, 'He always takes a minute to get here... any second now.'

A few seconds go by, just as Stolas was gonna pipe up again, the shudder suddenly shot up, revealing an middle aged Imp carrying a shotgun.

The Imp stared at him for a few moments before looking down and spotting you, 'Oh (Y/n)! Didnt expect you so early.' He told you, lowering the shotgun, 'who's the string bean?' He asked bluntly.

You just laughed as Stolas became indignant, looking himself up and down before asking himself if he really look like a string bean?

''This is my...' you hesitated for a moment, the owl held his breath, waiting for you to finish the sentence

'... my date' you finished, 'this is my date "Prince" Stolas.' You told him firmly, enough pride in your voice to make Stolas flush.

The Imp looked him up and down, 'A prince huh? Damn (Y/n), really pickin up your game' The older Imp gave you a rather lecherous grin.

You scoffed, stepping forward and asking 'Can we come in or are we just gonna stand around talking all night?'

The elder Imp just huffed before stepping out of the way.

The two of you walked into a somewhat narrow stairwell, the prince having to crouch walk to squeeze in there.

'Sorry 'bout the tight fit there your highness, we usually only get Imps down here, it'll be more roomy downstairs.' The old Imp spoke up as they made there way down the stairs.

Stolas chose not to reply, choosing instead to just take it in stride.

It was another minute of walking down the cramped stairwell when they suddenly entered a much larger chamber, the owl able to stand up.

Once he'd stretched his back, Stolas got a good look around, and found himself transfixed by the splendour of the place.

Honestly the place could probably give most of the restaurants he'd been too a run for there money.

It was a large hall, clearly some old structure with black bricks making up most of the walls.

A number of quaint little lanterns hung from the roof giving the whole chamber a pleasantly dim atmosphere.

A series of tables filled the centre of the chamber, each one decked in a cloth, with its very own candle lit center piece.

The architecture created smaller arches along the walls, many of them gave way to small booths where other Imps were enjoying there meal. While others were filled in by wine wracks, each one filled with a variety of bottles.

'My it's... it's...' before Stolas could finish, you cut in, 'yeah... I know, it's not exactly the rits, but for an Imp run business, it's pretty sophisticated.' You seemed disappointed, likely having interpreting his stunned silence as disappointment.

Stolas quickly cleared that up, telling you 'it's beautiful, I've never seen a place like it.' He told you honestly.

Looking down he found you positively beaming.

Reaching out, you grabbed his hand. You dragged him along like an excited child, taking him to what was obviously the front desk.

Placing the wicker basket on top the counter, you binged the bell.

A moment passed before a shorter and clearly much older Imp walked out. Upon seeing you there face lit up, 'Oh (Y/N), so good to see you.' They said cheerfully, pulling out a medium leather bound book from under the counter, they looked up and said, 'Lets see. Ah! Here you are. One table. A high ceiling and a strong bottle, correct?' They asked pleasantly.

You just nodded, them quickly putting the book away and began leading you away.

He found himself led into another chamber, this one much smaller but still just as pleasant.

In this one, a quaint little chandelier, giving the room a pleasant warm glow.

The older Imp quickly left, promising to bring menu's upon his return.

You led him in 'Beautiful place, isn't it?' You asked, seeming a hundred miles away.

'It is' He agreed, never taking his eyes off of you.

It took a few moments, but eventually you locked eyes, a smile growing across your lips.

After a moment, you seemed to snap back to reality, quickly walking over and pulling out one of the chairs, 'Your highness' you told him, an almost seductive tone to your voice.

'Such a gentleman' he spoke playfully, taking his seat.

Pushing him in, you walked around and took your seat.

Sitting down, you leaned forward, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment, neither of you sure what to say.

Eventually you spoke up, 'Can... can I ask you something?' You asked hesitantly.

Stolas, seeing the mood shift, leaned forward, responding with 'of course you can... what is it?'

You took a moment, placing your mouth behind your balled fist, 'I just... I just want to know... What is this?' You asked somberly.

That took him off guard, 'I, uh... I thought this was a date,' he tried to lighten the mood.

You did smile at that, but it was short lived, the sombre look returning.

'No... I mean like, you and me. What is this?' You asked him.

Stolas found himself at a loss.

What were you?

This was a date, wasn't it? So that would make you a potential couple? But he was already married... so, what the hell did that make you?

He sat there for longer than he'd like without an answer, before he felt he just had to say something. 'I don't... I don't know.' He told you honestly.

'I mean, this is a date? And I uh...' He didn't know were to go.

Out of options, he decided to do something that hadn't gone the best for him lately, but with you he felt it would be his best course to take.

He was gonna go with his gut.

'I want there to be something.' He told you, 'You make me feel like... like I deserve to be loved. Like I can be loved... Something I haven't felt in quiet a while.'

'I haven't felt like I really deserve anything in... Hell.... Decades?' He was tearing up now, his voice thick with emotion, 'I don't know if I deserve love, (Y/N).'

'I only ever seem to end up hurting the people I care about.' Tears formed in his eyes, the owl gripped his head, 'Lately I feel like a curse. Like I can only bring pain and misery to those around me... and after what I've done, I can't help but feel I deserve it.'

He looked up at you, a little smile across his face, 'But you... you make me feel like... like someone cares about me... Like someone cares about what I want. And you don't want anything from me... your not just using me as a means to an end... You care about me.' He was shaking now, a gentle tear sliding down his cheek.

He sat there for a moment, on the brink of tears, just as he felt you grab his hand.

Looking down he found you gently grasping his hand. You slowly inspected it, gently running your fingers along the long slender digits.

'You know...' you began, unease in your voice. 'I had no idea what I was doing, that first time.'

'I wanted to cheer you up, make you smile.' You let out a little chuckle, 'And as cliché as it might sound, I could tell you just wanted someone to love you, to make you feel something.' you smiled up at him.

'I knew you needed some kind of affection and I... I couldn't just let you sit there, drowning in despair. So I did it, I gave you the love you needed' You told him, your voice getting a little unbalanced.

You looked up at him, your throat tightening and voice becoming shaky, 'And if after that first time together... I after what we did... you had said you wanted to just pretend like nothing happened. I would have accepted it. I could have accepted that.' You told him firmly.

'Theres so much misery around me, so many suffering for no real reason. So if I could make you happy, even for just a moment. I'd be happy.' A smile spreading across your face.

'I don't know what's gonna happen next.' You told him. 'And I don't know what's gonna happen next.'

Your voice grew firmer, as did your resolve. 'But I wanna get closer to you and you wanna get closer to me. So how's about we just... see where this goes?' You asked him.

Stolas was a little shocked, 'You... you'd really do that, just give it a shot, to be with me?' He asked incredulously.

You just nodded your head, a little smile across your face, 'I... I wanna be with you Stolas, if that's alright with you?' You asked almost playfully.

Stolas couldn't help but laugh, vigorously nodding his head, 'Yes, Yes, a thousand times Yes.' He told you getting to his feet.

His emense height allowing him to lean over the table, locking you into a passionate kiss.

The Owl couldn't help it, he pressed into the kiss, so much so he was scared he might hurt your lips.

But he just couldn't help it, he was feeling such passion right now, all he could think to do was get as close to you as possible.

Hey Hey. Doing some old stories now. I've got so many requests I think I'll just relax a little, do them at my own pace.

This is the 5th part of my series Here's the link to my other chapters

OBSESSIVE STOLAS X Male Imp Pt.1

OBSESSIVE STOLAS x Male Imp Pt.2

OBSESSIVE STOLAS X Male Imp Pt.3

OBSESSIVE STOLAS x Male Imp pt.4

so check that out. I'm gonna be doing some more of my own original works lately, but feel free to leave a request, just don't expect me to get to it any time soon. Any way, hope you enjoyed the story. Bye Bye.

#helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss #headcanon #x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva stolas #stolas x reader #stolas

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hnychn · 4 years

Text

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 [𝐈𝐈𝐈]

sypnosis : life with your five lovers has been more than fulfilling, but when you're paired with a student from general studies for a project, your quintet seems a little less full

word count : 4000+

warnings : mutual pining, gender neutral reader, relationship insecurities, bakugo tries but. . .it doesn't go as well as he planned, grammar errors and spelling errors, it's . . . a long one, a bit rushed at the end so uhh pls don't mind that :)

parts : [ 𝐈 ] [ 𝐈𝐈 ] [ 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ]

a/n : so sorry for the long wait LMAO- i know i said my bokuto fic would be coming out today but uhhh ahaha my depression hit me full force this weekend and i didn't even look at the dock because i was too busy sleeping, but uhh enjoy this :D

↩︎ back to student masterlist | main mha masterlist

- WELCOME TO PART THREE sorry for the log wait 😭 life has been kicking my ass but we're not here to hear me complain, we're here for the tea

- so, it's a couple months after you joined the bakusquad and their relationship. and let me tell you, it has been nothing but amazing. 😩 your days are never quiet and they're always filled with some sort of excitement and love.

- you kaminari and mina often get into trouble for leaving the dorms late at night because you want snacks and there's nothing in the kitchens. you become kirishima's pillow, don't matter about your size or whatever, you are his pillow and you better not argue 🔫 sero always puts on some type of bachata or reggaeton or some spanish song and dances with you in his dorms. and bakugo is your go to person to cook with and just generally annoy or prank since it's so easy to get a reaction out of him.

- and you couldn't have asked for a better relationship. you all are so communicative and talk about your feelings often and how you're doing. every saturday or sunday, you all go to a dorm (usually it's bakugo's cause it's the cleanest) and have a huge cuddle pile and talk about your mental states, how you're doing, what you have problems with, etc etc.

- like damn ok i see you with the mentally and emotionally stable relationship 🤪🤪

- it's so refreshing too because sometimes you'll have a tough week and you jsut need to let it all out, and you can in the comfort of bakugo's dorm and you know none of them will judge you because they're all so open about their love for you (and vise versa)

- anyways, yeah y'all got the best relationship

- you never thought about anyone else in a romantic sense because the squad took up nearly all of the space in your heart. but when you teacher announced one day the general studies kids would be coming in to have a joint project to create gadgets for the hero course students, you had no idea your life would suddenly be turned upsidedown.

- you were paired with a guy named shinsou. he looked friendly enough and returned the wave you sent him with a little surprise as he made his way to the open seat next to you. he seemed surprised when you started a small conversation but he talked to you in a quiet soothing voice. he seemed nice enough and you figured the project would be a breeze since he seemed so nice and offered to meet up over the weekend to start up some ideas for the project.

- you agreed and the two of you met up that lunch period in the library to pre-draft some ideas and get to know each other more.

"i'm surprised you don't mind being seen with me."

his sudden comment took you by surprise as you looked up from your paper with messily drawn gadgets and chicken scratch writing to look up at him, "what do you mean?"

it was true you had never seen him before or even heard of him, but his hesitance to talk to you and open up to you made you feel as though you should.

shinsou rubbed the back of his neck and looked away shyly, "so you really haven't heard anything about me, have you?"

he looked almost guilty to bring it up, his gaze falling to the table in front of him as be played with a strand of his hair.

you shook your head. you never really payed attention to gossip around school, your head always too high up in the clouds to care about rumors and gossip (bakugo often scolded you for being such an airhead and ignorant to your surroundings, but you knew he was just worried about something happening to you). plus, to you, gossip was nearly never right and more often made up and fictitious.

shinsou refused to look up at you, "well. . .i'm known throughout the school as a. . ." he looked hesitant to continue but before you could reassure him he didn't have to talk about it if he didn't want to, he continued, "well, a villain."

he prised his lips as if the words left a bitter taste in his mouth, and all you could do was tilt your head. shinsou didn't seem like a bad person - or a 'villain' as he had said. on the way to the library he held open doors for you and helped you carry some of your books to your locker and even bought you a drink you wanted buy but were a bit short of change on.

"do you think you are?"

"what?" shinsou looked at you for the first time since he brought up the topic.

"do you think you're a villain?" he shuffled slightly in his seat and looked away again from your intense stare. he felt like you were looking straight into his soul from how strongly you were looking into his eyes, he wasn't sure if you had even blinked in the last minute.

shinsou thought back to all the times he's been called a villain or a criminal. it was always unwarranted, a passing comment that seemed like no big deal to others but shattered his heart into smaller and smaller pieces. but never once had he ever thought he was a villain - a monster.

if anything, he used those comments as encouragement to become a hero, to be better than those who always thought he would turn to a life of crime. so, "no... i don't think i'm a villain."

"well, that's that."

shinsou could only stare at you, your smile brighter than any star he'd ever seen, so full of hope and encouragement shinsou felt like he could take on the world. he looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, a shy smile pulling at his lips and a weird feeling blossoming in his chest. how curious. . .

- so yeah, a new friendship 🤪 the two of you started to spend a lot of free time together for the project. you would often meet up during lunches or free time between classes to work some more on the project, all the while getting to know each other in depth. you learned many things about shinsou and spilled many of your own secrets, you laughed together over old childhood stories, and played animal crossing on the rooftop during lunch, your project discarded and forgotten beside you.

- your sudden absence didn't go unnoticed by your lovers, and they grew curious to your whereabouts when you would blow them off for the fifth time that week to "work on your project". now, don't get me wrong, they had conplete trust in you and knew you would never cheat, but they were just curious as to what - or who - was taking up so much of your time.

- so, they did the smartest thing, and followed you. after blowing them off for the sixth time, they decided to follow you to your destination. mina and kaminari tried to be inconspicuous and wear disguises, but the fake mustache, black glasses (indoors, might i add) and hat weren't all too discreet as they thought.

- they followed you through every turn and weave you took and hid behind a corner when you stopped at a vending machine to get your favourite drink. but what surprised them the most was you also bought a coffee. bakugo was most surprised you even thought about even touching the can of caffine because he remembered you telling him you would get terrible caffine rushes that would make you dizzy if you drank coffee.

- but, as you finally reached the rooftop and made your way to a hunched over figure in the corner, it all made sense.

- they all saw how effortlessly you and shinsou acted around each other. they could see the soft looks he would send you when you weren't looking and the way his hand would hover over yours for a split second too long before snapping away as if you were made of lava. but surprisingly, they didn't feel any sort of jealousy or anger, it felt like a piece of them had returned they didn't even know was missing. the sort of feeling that walks through the door unexpectedly but it's wholesomely welcomed.

- the "oh, there you are, welcome back" type of feeling. they were happy you had found someone that made you feel comfortable, arguably more comfortable than you had been with them so far because truthfully, while you had felt welcomed and appreciated in the relationship, it still felt like you were an outsider. the five of them had inside jokes before you came and didn't get them when they came up, the five of them had habits special to each other that inadvertently excluded you. and while they never meant to hurt you (god knows that's the last thing they ever wanted to do), they had. but you knew that wasn't their intention so you held no malitious feelings towards them (not that you think you'd ever could).

- but the way you and shinsou so effortlessly opened up to each other, shared intimate details and secrets with each other - it warmed their hearts. so, bakugo grabbed them all by the back of their shirts and dragged them away, mumbling about giving the two of you space. there was a fond look in his eyes as he looked at the two of you he would be teased about later but would deny.

- it was undeniable bakugo held the softest spot for you. he tried as best as he could to include you in their inside jokes and habits but he was. . well . . . bakugo 🧍🏽‍♀️

- words aren't necessarily his strong suit and he could only hope his smaller actions let you know you were as loved and cherished as any of them there. and you knew, you caught on a little after bakugo had a little "secret talk" with the group (that wasn't really secret at all, he grabbed them all by their shirts and dragged them to a secluded spot while you distracted on your phone) and they all started to explain their jokes and include you in their habits.

- anyways, back to you and shinsou. 🤪 he was aware you were in a ployamorous relationship with the bakusquad and he's heard the way you talk about them and the soft airy tone of your voice and the starry look in your eyes; and he didn't want to get in between that. the last thing he ever wanted was to ruin your relationship for his own selfish reasons.

- so for the time being, he would be okay with watching you from afar, the sweetness of your love so close for him to taste; yet too far for him to savour.

- as more and more times passed, the bakusquad began to notice the lingering looks you would give shinsou when you passed him in the halls and how he would always be waiting for you outside of your class with your favourite drink before leaving you to go to lunch while he went off and . . . well, you weren't sure what he did during his free time, but he never brought it up so you never figured to ask.

- when you fell asleep the next time you all had a cuddle session in bakugo's room, they all talked about it. talked about your obvious feelings for each other and the possibility of including shinsou in their relationship. they spent hours talking about it and still talked about it even when the moon vanished over the horizon and the sun rose. and, in not very smart fashion, bakugo was tasked to confronting shinsou about their conclusion.

- which - almost as if there were an author behind all of this - didn't go as well as any of them planned.

it was perfect, really. almost as if the universe had been listening to their conversation and aligned itself perfectly for this very moment.

you woke up that morning with a terrible stomach ache and chose to stay back in your dorm after bakugo made you a bowl of soup and threatened you to take your medicine. his classes ended a little earlier than usual and, sending his lover's a nod, made his way over to your class, where, lo and behold, shinsou was standing near the door, the familiar brand of your favourite drink in one hand and his own cold coffee in the other.

bakugo wasn't sure what he was going to say when he reached shinsou. he opted to just speak from the heart over rehearsing lines with the others like they had wanted, besides, what kind of lover would be be if he couldn't even do this for you? but, what he didn't take into consideration, was his emotional constipation and tsundere attidute.

"hey, eye bags!" bakugo called out.

shinsou nearly jumped out of his skin at bakugo's sudden loud voice. he looked over with the same eyes of indifference he normally had, but bakugo could see the slight far in them. not at his brash attitude (shinsou could never be afriad of bakugo and confronting him before the sports fesitval was a perfect example of that) but the fear of ruining your relationship with the bakusquad.

shinsou nodded at bakugo when he got close enough. bakugo stood in front of him, his hands still shoved into the pockets of his pants, "they're sick."

it was a simple enough statement but shinsou blinked, "what?"

"y/n." bakugo stated and rolled his eyes as if the answer had been written on his forehead (and it basically had, shinsou was just a bit shocked at his appearance), "they're sick and mina's staying back with them in their dorm."

shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, "oh."

there was an awkward silence as the two boys stood in the vacant hallway. bakugo didn't know what to say and shinsou wasn't sure if he should leave or go visit you for their lunch break.

"i'll go drop this off to them-"

"no." bakugo practically growled, "i'll drop it off. go get eat your lunch or i'll make your face an eye bag."

shinsou flushed a bit in embarrassment. he was overstepping, of course he was. for a minute, having you all to himself for nearly a week straight made him forget about the relationship you were in and this was a smack of reality. you weren't his. you were in a relationship with others, other people who could give you nearly double what he could - everything he couldn't.

handing bakugo the drink, shinsou stalked away to the cafeteria, his cheeks still a light shade of pink. bakugo sighed and knew he most likely made things worse, and he came there originally to make things right.

but fate will work itself out. and what will be, will be.

- so... maybe sending bakugo wasn't the best idea ... 🧍🏽‍♀️

- because now, shinsou started avoiding you. when the two for you worked on your projects together, he would remain mostly silent and only input his opinion when he thought of an idea or needed help putting something together. you had no idea why and you honestly felt a little hurt that he ignored you as easily as breathing.

- you brought this up to your lovers on your weekly cuddle session, knowing they would have brought up your downpour attitude either way. what you didn't notice as your face was burried in denki's sweater were the glares they all were throwing at bakugo.

- "yeah, i wonder what happened..." sero smiled, though obviously strained, as he pet your head and told you shinsou was probably just going through something.

- and it was obvious you were hurt that shinsou had suddenly stopped talking to you because honestly it was kind of hard for you to make friends. a lot of people assumed you thought you were higher than everyone else because you were dating five students from the top hero course, but that obviously is far from the truth.

- anyways, a long time goes by and the two of you still haven't rekindled anything and the squad is getting a bit frustrated because hello??? join our cult lover circle ?????

- so the squad comes up with another solution and this time they don't send bakugo to collect shinsou

- they learned their mistake last time.

- anyways

- so sero goes and gets shinsou and tells him you need him for a little last touch of the project since it was near the due date and you wanted to make sure it was perfect. and shinsou agrees to meet up with you and follows sero.

- sero takes him into an empty classroom and it's pitch black. the windows have been covered with tape and all the lights are off. before he could ask what the hell was going on, the door slams shut and the lights suddenly turn on and shinsou's blinded for a moment.

- and he's met with a very interesting sight.

- mina, kaminari, and kirishima are standing in front of him with sunglasses and hats on, their arms are crossed and they have a blank look on their faces (though he can tell kaminari is about to burst into laughter and nearly does but kirishima jabs him in his side.)

- "uhh..."

- "shut up, eye bags." bakugo calls from behind him. he's leaning against the door with his arms crossed and an obviously pissed off look on his face.

- sero is just standing next to him with a 'sorry pal' kind of smile.

- "what is-"

- "what are your intentions with, y/n?" kaminari shouted suddenly as he slammed his hand on a nearby desk.

- "denki- no." mina pushed him back lightly, "that's not what-"

- "did you not listen last night, sparky?" bakugo rolled his eyes and scoffed lightly.

- kaminari shyly scratched his cheek, "i might have fellen asleep-"

- "he did." sero confirmed, "he drooled on me and everything.

- "I do not drool!!"

- "yes you do, it was like a waterfall, 'ki. "

- "no i don't, right kiri?"

- "well.. only a few drops.."

- "WHAT?! and none of you told me?!"

- "well, y/n kind of made us promise not to tell..."

- "SPEAKING OF Y/N," mina interjected into the conversation, her fingers rubbing at her temples as she wondered when she became the rational one, that was bakugo's job, "why don't we stick to the script, boys."

- kirishima slung an arm over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her cheek, "sorry, princess."

- "right." sero turned to shinsou and crossed his arms, "you have feelings for them don't you?"

- shinsou tensed. his mind was still trying to comprehend the conversation that happened just a few seconds ago and processing the fact that kaminari drools in his sleep. he wasn't sure how to respond.

- of course he had feelings for you, any rational person who came into contact with you would catch feelings. it was part of your natural charm that seemed to effortlessly draw people in and never let them go. in a matter of minutes, you had simultaneously become his best friend and his closest confidant. often at night he cursed himself for catching feelings for you when things were perfect just the way they were.

- but shinsou couldn't help it. you had treated him like a normal person and weren't apprehensive about his quirk. you gave him a taste of normalcy in his world of anxieties and judgement, and he craved more and more the more time he spent with you.

- so dispte wanting to desparately scream 'yes, i do love her' at the top of his lungs, he looked down at the ground, "no. . . i . . i don't."

- "liar."

- bakugo seethed behind him.

- shoving himself off the wall he was leaning on, bakugo walked closer and closer to shinsou as he spoke, "don't lie. we all see the way you look at them, the way your stupid face lights up with a small smile when they're with you or the airy chuckle you give when they do one of those stupid dances when they make food and-"

- "OK OK I GET IT!" shinsou snapped. mina jumped slightly in kirishima's arms and shinsou sent her a small apologetic look, "you know! I'm in love with them! i've been. . ." he trailed off before collapsing into a chair behind him, his head hanging back and staring into the bright flourescent lights hanging from the ceiling.

- "i've been trying to distance myself from them, to make getting over them easier."

- "they've been hurting, y'know."

- shinsou groaned and hid his face in his hands, "i know. you think i don't see the looks they give me when i avoid them in the halls? it hurts knowing i'm the reason they're in pain."

- "so why are you doing it?"

- "because they have you guys," shinsou sighed as it if we're the most obvious thing in the world, "you all could love them a lot more than i ever could alone. plus, they're so happy with you, i couldn't be the reason to disturb that."

- "you gotta be fucking kidding me." bakugo growled and pinched the bridge of his nose.

- kaminari snorted, "i think i just got deja vu."

- "you could say that again," mina sighed, "i'm heading back to the dorms, this is giving me a headache."

- with his arm still slung over her shoulder, kirishima agreed, "yeah, not sure how we didn't see this from the beginning. i'll walk you back, princess."

- shinsou only stared blankly as mina and kirishima left the room with kaminari in tow, complaining about getting some math work done. never in his life did he feel as confused as he did now

- lost. mans was lost..

- someone get him a map and help him please

- they acted as if they hadn't been the ones to literally kidnap him

- only to nonchalantly walk out the door?????

- sero's voice snapped him back to the remaining two people in the room, "you two really are a match made in heaven." sero smiled at him and shinsou felt head rise in his cheeks, whether it be from embarassment or something else, he didn't know.

- "i'll see you two around" and then he left, leaving shinsou alone with bakugo, who had yet to realease the bridge of his nose from his pinch.

- "you're both a pair of dumbasses."

- "i'm offended-"

- "y/n said the same fucking thing when we confronted them."

- shinsou stayed silent.

- "they felt like their presence would ruin the routine we had set a long time ago when we first started our relationship. . . sound familiar?"

- shinsou rubbed the back of his neck and opened his mouth to speak, but bakugo interrupted.

- "shut up, eye bags, i'm not finished."

- "i dIdNt eVEn sAy aNyTHiNg"

- "sure there were some things we had to adjust to include them in our schedule and a whole new bundle of emotions to incorporate into our lives; but the while point of a relationship is to open up slowly and learn to trust the ones you love. and eventually, we all learned to trust them the same way they learned to trust us; but trust isn't something you can learn over night. it's gradual."

- bakugo sighed, how in the hell did he get stuck in this situation again. at the very least no one got injured this time, "what I'm trying to say is, if y/n makes you happy, then we're all willing to let you in our relationship and put our trust in you.

- "will you put your trust in us?"

- how dramatic ˙ ͜ʟ˙

- so

- :) shinsou decides, fuck it. i deserve the good things in life, and he puts his trust in the squad the same way they all put their trust in him.

- and they decided it was a good time to surprise you too and kill two birds with one stone :)

- so you walk in to bakugo's dorm after a long day of school. you were returning from turning in your project with shinsou, and while the teacher had given you many compliments and basically secured your A, you still felt a bit sad knowing it would be the last time you would see shinsou since your schedules didn't collide and you had ended on a . . . confusing note.

- so you were just looking to cuddle with your lovers on a Friday night and wallow away in your sadness.

- when you walked in the group had been piled in their natural spots on bakugo's bed. mina was giggling with kaminari as they scrolled through tiktok, bakugo was reading a book you had reccomend to him a while a go, sero and kirishima were softly play fighting as they laughed and chuckled.

- everything was as it should be

- until you got to where your spot usually was, cradled between bakugo's warm and firm chest and mina's plush thighs and stomach, and it was occupied by someone else.

- everyone stopped what they were doing, as they watched a smile pull at your lips when you recognised the disheveled pruple hair lazily sprawled in your spot. everyone watched with bated breath as they waited for your reaction and small smiles of their own shining through as they watched your interaction.

- you lifted your hand and smacked shinsou's knee that had been raised up slightly as one of his arms lay behind his head and the other fiddled with a bracelet around mina's wrist, and his lips pulled into a lazy smirk of his own as he watched you.

- "get up, fat head, you're in my spot."

- his smirk only grew.

- "do something about it, hero."

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#mha headcanons #my hero academia #imagines #mha #bakugo x reader #mina x reader #sero x reader #kaminari x reader #kirishima x reader #poly bakusquad #bakusquad poly #shinsou x reader #my hero academia imagines #mha x reader #gender neutral reader

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v-hope · 4 years

Text

New camera, 9:03PM — Tiger Flower

“Yah, don’t” Jeongguk whined as soon as he was done taking a particular picture and caught your phone’s camera pointing his way.

Giggling to yourself, you brought your phone closer to your face to inspect the picture you had just taken of him, deciding right then you were posting it and mindlessly crossing your legs as you made yourself more comfortable on your spot on the floor, where you had been lying down on for a while as you watched your boyfriend take picture after picture.

“You look so cute!” you fought him back with that simple compliment, enjoying the way he visibly grew shy in front of you. “Although I don’t get to see much of your face with that hat of yours”.

He smiled sweetly, admiring the cute pout that had just taken over your mouth. “Such a shame” his sarcastic tone earned a roll of eyes from you. “There’s a reason I’m always behind the camera, petal”.

“Maybe in your camera, but in mine you’re the star”.

You couldn’t help but tilt your head back and let out a loud laugh at the way he had just snorted at your cheesy words. Although he would always get shy as hell and call you out because of it whenever you ever so bluntly complimented him, you knew he loved it — the huge smile that would part his lips every single time, was all the confirmation you needed.

You were not lying though, as you both knew well enough your camera roll was now taken up mostly by pictures of him. And spontaneous ones at that, for those were your favourite kind when it came to him. Not like his camera roll was any different when it came to you, though.

Going back to your phone, you finished posting his picture on Instagram while you let him do his thing, missing the way his eyes softened at the sight of you after he was done examining the last picture he had taken. And then also missing the light “click” that had came out of his camera as he took a picture of you.

He just couldn’t help himself, and he most definitely could not help but stare right after, smiling at the way you pulled your dress lower down your legs as you tried to cover them after a particular night breeze had reached them, and then chuckling at how you unconsciously hugged the cozy black jacket closer to your body — the one of his he had forced you to take with you earlier that day when you had dropped by to his place before heading out to buy the camera, knowing well enough —although you kept denying it— that the dress you had decided to wear would do little to nothing for you when the night and its low temperature came.

“What’s so funny?” you wondered when the sound of his laugh had reached your ears, head snapping up to fix your eyes on his smiling mouth.

Jeongguk shook his head, walking over to you and offering his hand for you to grab. “Let’s go home?”

“You’re done?” you wondered with pouty lips, nevertheless, holding onto his hand to let him help you up to your feet.

“Mhm…” he nodded, taking the backpack you had been watching for him and carefully placing the camera inside. “It’s late and I can’t have my stubborn baby freeze to death, so…”

“Yah!” you playfully slapped his arm, earning another laugh from him as he threw his backpack over his shoulder and held your hand in his once more. “I’m not freezing to death. It’s just a little cold”.

“So you admit you’re stubborn” he taunted you with a smile.

This time, you lightly shoved him with your shoulder, having him tighten his hold on your hand for a second before he let go of it, instead throwing his arm over your shoulder as the two of you started walking.

“You were literally telling me to bring a jacket whilst changing into a lighter t-shirt, you hypocrite”.

He shook his head in amusement. “Yes, but you always get cold. I don’t”.

You chuckled, wrapping your arm tighter around his waist and letting a cheeky smile curve up your mouth. “We’ve been knew you’re hot as hell”.

“Oh my God, you are insufferable”.

Letting out another laugh, you stared up to him, not having to think twice before planting a kiss to his jaw. “It was worth the wait then?”

“Huh?”

“Your camera” you clarified, chuckling at how lost he had looked for a second. “Is it as great as you expected?”

He smiled, nodding his head in a heartbeat. “I think you’ve had enough of my nerd talking for today though”.

“Aw, but I love it when you nerd talk” you pouted.

However, you could not help but replace your said pout with a sweet smile in a heartbeat, at the mental images of the way he had been smiling that entire evening, from the moment you were at the store looking for the camera as he excitedly —and rather impatiently— waited for it to be handed to him, to the way he later focused on getting the right angles and explained technical things you didn’t fully understand, yet found yourself being really interested in.

You truly did love the way he would talk about the things he was most passionate about — that you had learned ever since the first time you got together and his nervous ass would only open his mouth to drop random facts about cameras and photography, well, for that and to help with the project, of course.

“There will be a lot of it for the next few days, so don’t worry”.

Although he knew your words were genuine, for that was one of the reasons it was so easy for him to talk to you about just anything to begin with, he couldn’t help his words from coming out rather sheepishly as he admitted that.

“I’m ready for it” your dramatic words got a roll of eyes from him. “So where are we going now?”

“Home” he mindlessly repeated what he had said before, turning right in a corner as you made it to the street the closest subway station was at.

“I know,” you laughed lightly. “I mean yours or mine”.

“Oh,” he simply let out at the realisation.

Truth is, at this point, when you would not only stay over at each other’s on a daily basis but also had left a few clothes over, both your and his place could qualify as such. So he didn’t have an actual place in mind, he just meant going back somewhere, anywhere, with you.

“Joon-ie hyung is staying at Areum noona’s tonight, so we could go to mine”.

“Your place is it then” you nodded. Just like him, not really minding which place to crash at. “Should we go get some food to make dinner?”

“I’m lazy” he pouted. “There should be enough back at mine”.

“Did you get more ramen after we ran out the other day?”

He shut his eyes closed, and that was all you needed to know he didn’t. Now, he had intended to, since ramen was pretty much all there ever was to eat for dinner at his and Joon’s place, along with a few vegetables to season them with, but you had invited him over for dinner the very next day after running out of them, and the one after that, and so he just naturally forgot.

“It’s okay, we can just make a short run to the store near your place”.

Jeongguk whined, pulling you closer to him and resting his head on yours for a second as you reached the subways’ entrance. “Baby, I’m tired”.

Snorting, you got slightly away from him so you could properly walk down the stairs. “Then we’ll just go to sleep straight away once we get there, I guess”.

“By sleeping you mean…”

“Sleeping” you remarked, with a taunting smile letting him know that was all there was to it. “I mean, since you’re so tired…”

“You know…” he cut you off, already getting a smirk out of you as you knew well enough what he would say. You had been the one to tell him he could get his way with you that night after all. “Suddenly I’m not that tired anymore…”

#bts #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts fake texts #jungkook fake texts #bts social media au #jungkook social media au #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook

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bookyeom · 3 years

Text

pairing: jin x reader / word count: 2.6k / genre: idiots to lovers, friends (kinda?) to lovers

summary: It was her birthday, and she really only wanted one thing.

tags: pure unadulterated fluff, maknae line shenanigans

warnings: none, just... alcohol maybe?

Happiest of early birthdays, dearest @taejinnies. It’s short and it’s sweet and I hope you like it. I love you! (This is completely unedited and I’m sorry for that, I wanted to get it out for bb’s birthday before I head out on vacation!! I know your birthday isn’t until tomorrow - it’s already the 4th here - but I hope it’s okay that it’s early!!!)

*****

“Hobi.”

She drew out the last syllable of her roommate’s name, the wine making her a little bit more tipsy than she probably should have been at this hour. Who cared? It was her birthday, and all of the people she loved the most were in the apartment she shared with her best friend, and she was happy… and so she’d had an extra glass. Sue her.

Hoseok let out a chuckle. “I guess you like the wine Tae got for you? He pretended he was at a small winery in the French countryside the entire time we were in the store picking it out.”

“I’m sad I missed that,” came her solemn reply. “I’ll have to thank him for going all the way to Bordeaux for me. It’s great, though. Have you tried some of it?”

Hoseok shook his head, holding up his cup. “I’ve got my trusty rum and coke, I’m satisfied.”

She hummed in response, her eyes wandering over her friend’s shoulder to look around the room. She heard her name, and turned back to find Hoseok staring at her, eyebrows raised teasingly.

“Don’t worry, I asked Jin to come. Just for you.”

“Huh?” She tried to play innocent, but Hoseok simply took a sip of his drink, staring back at her. “Where is he then?” She finally caved with a pout.

Her friend rolled his eyes fondly as he grabbed her by the shoulders. He gave her a little shake as he replied, “You’re so whipped, and you’ve only met him like four times.”

“We’ve met five times,” she muttered, looking away, and Hobi let out a snort. She paused, contemplating. “How drunk do you think I need to be before I ask him to make out?”

Her friend opened his mouth to respond, but the voice that spoke came from behind her.

“Why don’t you ask him now?”

She turned around in a flash, her eyes landing on the man before her, his eyes crinkled at the sides as he smiled. Even without alcohol, she was usually confident, but ever since she’d met Jin months prior, she’d felt a bit like a fraud. She could easily talk to her friends about him, about how hot he was, about how nice he was, about how much she wanted to shove her tongue down his throat… but as soon as he walked into a room, she forgot how to function.

Her gaze finally broke from his, eyes wandering up to his hair, parted on one side and falling softly across his forehead on the other. Her gaze traveled down to find him wearing a yellow and white collared casual dress shirt, and it briefly crossed her mind that the only other person who could pull off a shirt like that was Hoseok. On Jin, it looked amazing. It was a shirt she couldn’t ever recall seeing him wear in the few months she’d known him, and a thought suddenly crossed her mind. The last time she’d seen him, he’d asked, and she’d told him that yellow was her favourite colour. It was just a coincidence, right? There was no way he’d worn a yellow shirt on purpose because she’d said she liked that colour… Right?

But then his hand was lifting towards her, extending a yellow gift bag in her direction. “Happy Birthday,” he said softly.

His free hand lifted to scratch the back of his neck, and she felt rooted in place. She wasn’t sober, but she also wasn’t drunk enough not to realize the implications. Either he’d remembered, or he just also happened to really love the colour yellow. It was too much for her hazy brain to comprehend.

It wasn’t a secret that she had the hots for Jin, and all of their friends told her they could tell he felt the same. When she flirted with him, he would blatantly flirt back, and she knew that there was definitely something there. Still, a voice in the back of her mind was consistently filling her with doubt. It had been three months since he’d transferred to their university, three months since they’d met, and he still hadn’t made an official move. Her friends all told her that maybe she needed to be the one to do it, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She was confident, sure, but she still didn’t like being rejected.

After a moment passed without her taking the bag from Jin’s outstretched hand, she heard Hoseok clear his throat from behind them.

“I’ll put this with the other stuff,” he said, and she nodded at him gratefully. He sent her a smile, and she turned back to Jin, hoping her cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt.

“I like your shirt,” she managed, and her stomach flipped as the smile on his mouth grew even wider. She could tell he was pleased with her compliment, and if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a soft pink blush dusting across his cheekbones.

“Thanks. I bought it just for you.” He stated it simply, and the wind was knocked out of her for a moment, before she finally managed to steel herself for a witty response.

“For me? Didn’t I say my favourite colour was puke green?”

Jin let out a barking laugh at that, and she couldn’t help smiling, too. “Shit. Guess I’ll have to take it back and exchange it, then.” He paused before adding, eyes twinkling, “I’d do it for you, you know.”

The words left his mouth, and she wondered, yet again, if she should just do it. If she should just ask him out first, kiss him first, cross the line first. As he looked down at her, brown eyes sparkling as he teased her, she made a promise to herself. Tonight, she would do it. It was her birthday party, after all. Why not ask for the gift she really wanted?

*****

She did not do it.

What she did do was get roped into taking shots with Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook - lots of shots. Lots and lots of shots.

Before she knew it, she was drunk, Happy Birthday had been sung, they’d cut the cake, it was 1am, and everyone was leaving. As she lay on the couch with her head in Hoseok’s lap, all she could think about was how grateful she was… and how absolutely exhausted she felt.

“I’m going to head out.”

She looked up to find Jin, tipsy but not drunk. Curse him and his high tolerance. He was smiling over at her, a bag of recycling in his hands, and she could do nothing but stare at him for a moment.

“How are you getting home?” She’d meant to ask it, but it was Hobi that finally did. He spoke from above her, and she looked up at him before looking back at Jin, waiting for his answer.

“Taxi,” Jin shrugged. He lifted up the bag. “I’ll take this out on the way.”

“You should stay,” Hoseok suggested, and she turned to him in surprise. Hoseok shrugged. “Tae and Jimin are already crashed in the spare room, but the couch folds out.”

She could feel Jin’s eyes on her. Every fiber of her being wanted him to stay - but with her. In her bed. She somehow managed to stay silent, the sane side of her thankfully warning that that would be a very, very bad idea. Especially with how good he looked now, his hair looser than when he’d arrived, and his shirt unbuttoned more at the top. If she wasn’t so tired, she’d have gone over and messed his hair up some more herself.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

*****

She woke up in the morning, a soft pounding in her head, her mouth dry. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and she was grateful for that, but she still had to grab an Advil from her bedside table. She quickly brushed her teeth in the bathroom, wincing at her reflection in the mirror. She could thank her past self for remembering to take her makeup off, at least.

She headed into the hall towards the kitchen to grab some water, but stopped short in her tracks as she saw a familiar, broad back stretching from the foldout bed in the living room. He was sitting up, wearing just the white t-shirt he’d had on underneath his yellow shirt, his hair messy from sleep, and she wanted nothing more than to climb in with him.

“Morning,” was what she said instead, because there was no way she could get to the kitchen without him seeing her.

He turned to her mid-stretch, his face lighting up when he saw her, arms falling back to his sides. “Morning,” he replied back, and when he lifted a hand to rub some more sleep out of his eye, she was a goner. He was so, so cute. How had she let last night pass her by?

“I’m getting some water, if you want some.” She jutted her thumb towards the kitchen, and he nodded. She had meant that she would bring him some, but he stood up to follow her, still clad in his jeans from the night before. “Sorry if you were uncomfortable last night.”

Jin shook his head, leaning against the counter as she grabbed the water judge from the fridge, as well as two glasses from the cupboard. “Nah, I was out like a light,” he reassured her.

She handed him one of the glasses, ignoring the way their fingers brushed as she did so. He thanked her, bringing the glass to his lips, and she cursed herself for being unable to look away as he swallowed. She finally turned to her own glass, but she knew he’d seen her ogling when she caught the soft smirk on his lips.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, it was fine,” came her reply. “Didn’t get too much of it, but I’m alright.”

“You could always go back to sleep,” he suggested, and she brought the glass back up to her lips with a shrug.

“I have a hard time getting back to sleep once I’m awake,” she admitted. Jin hummed in acknowledgement.

“Well, if you’re up for it, we could always do something else.”

She nearly spat out her water, and she watched his eyes widen as he realized what he’d said.

“I meant we could play Mario Kart or something,” he groaned, and she could see the tips of his ears becoming red.

As she watched him apologize, so genuine and endearing, she finally made the decision. She couldn’t go one more day without trying.

It was now or never.

“I’m up for anything you have in mind, Jin,” she said softly, making sure to keep her gaze firm on his, trying to convey just exactly what she meant.

He seemed to understand almost immediately, straightening his shoulders. “Yeah?”

She nodded, her back leaning against the counter as he took a hesitant step towards her. He continued to close the distance, their eyes never once wavering from each other. He was tentative as he reached her, giving her room to back out if she wanted, but as her eyes fell to his mouth, he seemed to realize that she didn’t plan on going anywhere.

“You know,” she began, voice a soft mumble. “I didn’t get what I really wanted for my birthday.”

“No? And what was that?” He was staring down at her, his brown eyes twinkling as he asked the question. He was so close now, his mouth inches from hers, and she slowly lifted a hand to his face.

Their noses brushed as Jin’s hand gripped into her waist, pulling her even closer before she whispered, “A million dollars to pay off my student loans.”

It was silent for a moment, Jin’s eyes opening slowly, and he blinked down at her. She couldn’t help but giggle, her hand falling from his face to cover her mouth, and she watched as he began to laugh, too.

“You’re the worst,” he whined, his forehead falling to rest against hers, and she couldn’t help but loop her arms around his neck.

She was still smiling, giggles getting quieter until she was able to speak again. “I think you know exactly what I wanted, Jin.” She paused, her skin feeling electric wherever he touched her. “What I still want.”

He moved his face away then, his hands finding the small of her back as his eyes wandered across her face. “I think I have some idea,” he said softly, and she nodded as he closed the distance again.

“Dude, Jin! You actually did it? You asked her out? Nice!”

The two of them sprang apart as Jimin and Taehyung entered the kitchen, and she held back an audible groan.

“Could you knock?” She cried, her heart still pounding in her chest. Jin leaned back against the counter next to her, his arms crossed as he tried to contain his laughter at her obvious irritation.

Jimin furrowed his brows in confusion. “It’s a kitchen… without a door.”

“We just wanted some Lucky Charms,” Taehyung added, as if that would help dispel the tension.

She sighed, raising her eyebrows at the two men pointedly, and Jimin finally seemed to take the hint, tugging on Taehyung’s arm. “Let’s go to the cafe across the street, Tae, my treat.”

The two of them turned to leave, but not before Taehyung gave Jin a pointed look, eyes flitting between the two of them leaning against the counter. When they were finally out of sight, she let out the breath she’d been holding, her eyes squeezing shut. It was Jin that spoke first.

“Should I get going?”

She opened her eyes to look at him again, and he gazed back. He sent her a soft smile, and she could have killed her friends for ruining their moment.

“Um, yeah,” she said softly, looking down at the floor. “If you want to.”

He didn’t move.

She felt his eyes on her, and she met his gaze again, eyebrows raising in question.

“Taehyung’s not crazy,” Jin finally spoke into the silence. “I had planned to ask you out, that’s why he asked if I’d done it.”

She short circuited. It took a second before she managed, “What?”

Jin let out a soft chuckle. “I was going to ask you yesterday. At your party.”

She stared up at him, blinking slowly, before letting her head fall back with a groan. “Fuck. Fuck Jeon Jungkook for roping me into a drinking game,” she whined, and she could hear Jin begin to laugh. “You’re telling me we actually could have made out last night?” She sounded delirious, but she didn’t care - she would never forgive her friends for this one.

“Yes,” the man beside her grinned. He took a step forward, and she turned to him again. “We also can make out right now. Which is what I was trying to do before we were rudely interrupted.”

She couldn’t help it as her mouth parted slightly at his words. Sure, they’d almost kissed just moments before, but hearing him say the words out loud had goosebumps spreading across her skin.

“You’d better fucking do it this time,” she managed breathlessly, and then he was beaming, his smile wider than she’d ever seen it, and then - his lips were pressed to hers.

It was everything she’d imagined, but better. He kissed her soft but firm, slow but insistent, his mouth moving against hers in a way that had her entire world spinning. He pulled her in flush against him, one hand in the hair at the nape of her neck, the other firm on her waist. Her fingers twisted into his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer as they kissed each other breathless. She couldn’t get enough. They finally pulled apart, chests heaving, and Jin moved to rest his forehead against hers.

“Happy Birthday,” he whispered, and she pulled him back in for another kiss before she replied.

“Happy, indeed.”

*****

tagging @taehyungsupremacy @tae-bebe @snackhobi @moon-write @xjoonchildx @hazeltae if you wanna read xoxoxo

#jin x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #jin fluff #ksj fic #my writing #w: yellow

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sonderthroughthestreets · 3 years

Text

Hi! Idk what came over me but I thought an AU where Sander’s kid is anti-Bowie was the most hilarious thing thanks to @hidden-joy @kylesbishops and @sanderijzermans so I wrote it skdjdj

Disclaimer: it’s all fun and chaos and I don’t really know anything about how to write kids

x, x, x, x, credit to the chaos 🤪

The day Sander Driesen hears the words come out of his child’s mouth is the day he wonders if this is his child at all.

He’s standing there, leather jacket, white t-shirt and all, bleached hair icy even in the summer sun, and he looks down at the small stature in front of him. Grey-green eyes, dark locks and an air of confidence that could only be learned from a certain music-loving individual fill his sight. There’s so much innocence standing before him but a driven insistence breaks through the words spoken.

“Dad,” he hears. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but...I don’t really like David Bowie all that much.”

Sander thinks he’s lost his senses. He is definitely not hearing right. Hell, he’s only a man in his early thirties, he could not be this hard of hearing already. He tries to brace himself on the couch from falling over. Shit, he’s also too young to feel this frail.

“Wh-what do you mean you don’t like David Bowie all that much?”

The question comes out in gasps of air, ragged and winded, like he can’t believe what’s happening. He feels like his world’s spinning, like he’s entered another dimension, like there was no way, absolutely no way, his child doesn’t like David Bowie.

Denial is a pretty powerful thing, though...

See, when Alexandra Driesen was born, she brought light and life to Sander and Robbe’s eyes. She had a chubby face and squishy cheeks and eyes the colour of a summer storm. Her dark hair had been a blessing to match Robbe’s. Everything about her was as perfect as it could get. And then came the perpetual frustrations of parenthood with the screaming and the crying.

Sleep was something to be cherished at the Driesen-Ijzermans household. A few day-naps here and a doze-off there. But God, oh God, did Alexandra know how to cry in the middle of the night. Robbe and Sander spent hours upon hours holding her and swaying her and rocking her on a chair. Sander had read that sometimes music helps so he’d even done all that. Bowie usually floated in the shriek-filled room during these times and yet, Alexandra just wept.

“Come on, baby, just a little bit of sleep. Don’t you get tired of screaming all night?” Sander asked in that exhausted tone of parentese. He held her against the crook of his neck and walked around in sweats until he saw Robbe enter the room with blood-shot eyes and curls disarrayed.

“She’s still crying?” he asked with a rasp in his voice.

“She literally won’t stop and I don’t know what to do, I’ve tried everything. I’ve even got Bowie on for her,” he said.

Robbe took her from his arms and swayed her a little, cooing and kissing her tiny head.

“It’s kind of loud, though,” Robbe said to him as he then stepped over to turn off the music.

And in an instant miracle, the house was all quiet.

It seems that’s what’s always happened and Sander just hadn’t noticed it. Alexandra settled into Robbe’s chest and stretched her mouth in a heavy yawn. Her warmth radiated and glowed through Robbe, but Sander was stunned. He’s completely shocked.

“You-she-“ he stuttered clumsily for a bit. “But it was Bowie,” he said weakly.

How could his own daughter not feel at peace with Bowie? It was a connection he held with him, something connecting him and Robbe and what he hoped would connect their child to them in this little family.

“Hmmm,” Robbe hums pensively. “Maybe Bowie’s not her thing.”

“Not her thing?” Sander just about exploded. Then he suddenly remembered Alexandra’s finally gone to sleep and whispered, seething. “That is not our child!”

“Biologically, no. Legally and emotionally, yes,” smirked Robbe. “Calm down, babe, she’ll learn to like him soon enough. For now, how about we hold off on Bowie for a bit, yeah?”

He swayed her just a little more, just to really make sure she’s easing into sleep and then set her gently back down in her crib.

“How long?” Sander muttered and Robbe gave him a confused look. “How long without Bowie?”

Robbe contemplated.

“Maybe we give it six months or so,” he said.

And now it was Sander who wanted to weep. -

As the months and years went on, Alexandra had gone on without her Bowie-loving phase, only mildly being interested in the lightning bolt plushies and the songs blasting on road trips and the shirts Sander would get for her. Robbe says it just takes time for kids to get into stuff. That it’s better to leave it there in the open for them than to shove it down their throats.

“It’s barely any shoving,” Sander had grumbled.

“I know, babe. But I know how you can get sometimes,” Robbe had placed a soothing kiss upon his lips.

Still, Sander’s worries were increasingly growing.

Then a few years later, they’d adopted another beautiful girl. Mia was a radiant vision of blonde curls and brown eyes. They held a similar warmth that Robbe’s eyes held and Sander couldn’t be happier to lose himself in pools of coffee or dark, earthy soils or any other sort of metaphor for his favourite kind of brown.

To his relief, though, Mia loved listening to Bowie. She loved playing with the lightning bolt plushy and wearing all the shirts and as she grew, she and Sander had lots of music jam sessions blasting Bowie throughout the house. Alexandra was enticed into joining for a bit in the beginning but as time went on, Sander found it that she was making more and more excuses to not be in the same room when Bowie was mentioned.

“Uh, I got homework, Dad,” she’d nervously run her fingers through her hair.

“Uh, Papa needs help with dinner I think,” she’d run out with a tight smile.

“Group project due soon. Léon’s being a piece of shit and not pulling his weight at all.”

“Language,” Robbe would chastise coming around the corner.

“He’s being a dick?” she suggested.

“Fuck him.”

“Sander!”

“Sorry.”

Her interests lay instead in skateboarding with her friends, headphones in her ears listening to rap: BROCKHAMPTON and Stormzy with even a little Ed Sheeran in the mix, and keeping her hair as short as possible. She’d had a bit of a habit wearing overgrown shirts like Robbe did. But Sander found that endearing and he didn’t really think it was a case of ‘not-like-other-girls’ syndrome. He and Robbe just let her wear whatever she wanted.

And in fact, it was at thirteen years of age that Alexandra came out to the family as a boy. Sander remembers it clearly with them all huddled on the couch looking at the person in front of them with beady eyes, waiting.

“Dad, Papa, Mia. I think I’m a boy. I think I’m trans and I’d like to formally introduce myself to you all. I’m Alexander, or just Alex. And I use he/they pronouns.”

Sander had wanted to tear up, emotions flooding inside his rib cage. Happy tears, though, a joyous occasion where his son felt comfortable enough to tell them about this part of himself. That he and Robbe had created a space where he felt safe enough. Loved enough.

“I kept Alexander ‘cause, Sander,” he gestured to Sander. “But really, Alex is fine.”

And Sander wanted to cry all over again.

They’d all been encased in a huge family hug with Mia chirping that she’d ‘always wanted a big brother.’

Robbe and Sander had been quite supportive of it all, calling the school to change both the name and preferred name and asking if Alex was considering wearing a binder or getting a proper haircut. “Yes” to the haircut. “Hold off for a bit” on the binder. He’d whined a “Daaaaaad” when Sander ruffled the short brown locks. Most of Alex’s friends were cool with it, too and while it wasn’t all smooth sailing, he’d never run out of love from his family.

It was a big change and everything, but Sander thought, well...as long as he had his Bowie-loving children, it was all fine. -

It’s his worst nightmare. It’s the stuff that haunts you from the depths of the worst kind of hell, making your limbs feel like jelly. He’s cursing every name and divine entity and he’s really hoping Robbe’s right about those parallel universes because he’d love to hop over to the one where this wasn’t happening right now.

Sander’s having a hard time even looking at Alex in the eye.

“Dad?” he hears his concerned voice.

“I think I need to sit down,” says Sander, grabbing the armrest of the couch, lowering himself onto the cushion.

“It’s really not a big deal,” says Alex.

“Not a big deal?” Sander looks at him with wide eyes. “My own son hates David Bowie.”

“I never said I-“

“The man who infinitely changed my life. Space Oddity, Life on Mars, Ziggy Stardust, Ashes to Ashes. None of them?” Sander waves his arms. “You’re telling me you like none of them?”

“They’re...fine, I guess,” Alex shrugs innocently with a cringe to his face.

“Fine?” Sander squeaks.

“What’s fine?” Robbe trudges to them overhearing the conversation.

“Your son hates Bowie,” Sander squints his eyes at him.

“I do not,” says Alex. “I’m just pretty indifferent to him. He’s not exactly my style,” he shrugs, his hoodie moving with the movement.

“And what is your style?” Robbe laughs as he comes up behind him to rub his shoulders. He looks up at Sander with long lashes and a questioning smile stretching across his face. They share one of those ‘parenting looks.’ The ones where they know it’s not all that serious. But Sander thinks it is.

“A bit of rap, a bit of hip hop, some pop, some mainstream,” Alex lists off. “Not exactly the ‘80s vibes in me,” he laughs.

Robbe cheers as their tastes in music are quite similar and he proceeds to carry out their very own handshake they’d created when Alex was nine. There’s a different one with Sander. Sander, who’s getting more and more agitated by this revelation.

“Oh, okay,” he pats his knees and stands up. “Well, if you two are having such a grand time hating Bowie and bonding over your own music, I’ll just take myself and leave. No child of mine doesn’t like David Bowie,” he says dramatically.

“Sander…” Robbe looks at him.

“Dad…” says Alex.

“No, no. It’s fine. Really,” he begrudgingly walks out of the living room, almost knocking into Mia on the way.

“What’s with him?” she blinks twice and points a finger back.

Robbe sighs as he looks back at Alex.

“Your father, he…” Robbe puts a hand on his shoulder. “Bowie’s practically his life and so are the two of you, so I guess it’s really important to him that you like him, too. He’s just gonna need some time with all this.”

His eyes are apologetic and he gives him a half-smile, hand leaving his shoulder.

Alex takes in the words while Mia wiggles herself onto the couch and finds the tv remote beside her.

“You finally told him about Bowie, huh?” she gives him a gravely sad look. One that says he’s about to be doomed.

Alex just lets out a stressed breath as Robbe follows to go find Sander.

What’s so special about David Bowie anyway?

————————————————————————

Part 2 is coming! IM SO SORRY SKDJJF I just need sleep and rest

#wtfock #this sucks so much omg I’m so sorry #sobbe’s anti-bowie kid #<- liz I used the tag skdjdb #me writing a dad AU my god how did this happen #thanks Sarah for reading it over <3

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years

Text

idea of perfection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: kinda angsty, subtle mentions of weight / body image issues Word Count: 1.3k Request: anonymous: “i was wondering if you could write something with Spencer and a plus size reader based on the song heather but please let them end up together.” A/N: so for context i made jj ‘heather’ in this fic. this kinda takes place around the first season so will isn't in the picture yet and spencer is crushing on her. hope you like it!

The air caught in your throat as the petite blonde entered the room. She neatly placed the latest case files on the conference table and peeked up at you; a warm grin illuminating her already perfect features. Your mouth twitched into an awkward half-smile before she turned her attention to the screen turning it on.

Your eyes however were still fixated on her. Rather on what she was wearing. A burgundy sweater you knew all too well hung loosely on her figure. Underneath, she wore a white blouse. Silk no doubt. The collar was elegantly placed around the ruff making the colour of the sweater pop even more.

There was no denying JJ looked great, like an off-duty runway model. When you were lucky enough to wear that exact same burgundy garment that one afternoon it clung to your body tightly, you were afraid you might stretch it out on him. You glanced down at your stomach and sighed quietly.

A million questions raced through your mind. Why was JJ wearing that? Where did she get it? Did he give it to her? Obviously he must have, that was the only logical explanation, but why did he give it to her. Why? Why-

The young doctor entered the briefing room and immediately breaking you away from your thoughts. Sitting up straight in your chair you watched as Spencer sat down across from you, his eyes glued to JJ. The two of them exchanged soft smiles. He complimented her awkwardly, pointing at the sweater. Her smile widened. “Thanks Spence. And thank you for letting me borrow it.”

The lump in your throat grew tighter with every passing second. It was clear that the blonde cared about him deeply. Whether her feelings were romantic or platonic no-one really knew but either way you couldn't compete with JJ. A sight for sore eyes. Brighter than the blue sky. You stood no chance. It made you want to curl into a ball and cry.

“You have to just come clean Y/N.” Elle whispered as the two of you walked out of the briefing. “Are you crazy?” You muttered back. “Babe, you will never know until you try.” “I do know. He likes her.” Elle shrugged. “I know in my gut that the pretty doctor has his eyes set on you.” “You’re delusional.” “You’re delusional.” She walked around her desk, reaching underneath for her things. You rolled your eyes playfully at the brunette and proceeded to grab your own go-bag before the two of you headed for the elevator together.

Elle has been your friend since day one. Your ‘partner and confidant’ as she calls it. She is the only person on the team that knows your true feelings towards Spencer. Sworn to secrecy, she nudges you a little everyday to ask him out. Encourages you to make small talk with the young doctor, sit next to him at the bar during afterwork drinks or on the jet - which is exactly what she prompted you to do when stepping onto the aircraft.

She nudged you gently, yet effectively, making you stumble into the free seat beside Spencer.

“Hi.” “Hello.” He greeted you with a warm smile. It made your heart skip a beat.

“What are you reading?” You asked, pointing to the book in his lap. He showed you the front cover before answering. “The Lucifer Effect by Philip Zimbardo.” “What’s it about?” You probed while making yourself comfortable. “It explores why good people can be convinced to act evil and where the line is really drawn between good and bad. It also gives an excellent insight into the power of roles and group identity, and how humans can become cruel very quickly in the right situation.”

Trying to get a quick scan of the page Spencer was currently on, you leaned towards him. It wasn’t until he stopped talking that you realised how suddenly close the two of you were. Nervously, you looked up to find he was already looking at you.

“W-well-” You cleared your throat. “Be sure to let me know if it’s worth the read when you’re finished.” Spencer nodded, still looking at you. “I suspect I’ll have just enough time to make a coffee.” You joked awkwardly hoping he’d laugh. He did.

“If eh- if you make me one too I can summarise the book for you.”

“It’s a date.”

It took you a second to register the sentence that has just come out of your mouth. You bit your tongue, eyes wide with horror. But Spencer didn't seem to mind, maybe he misunderstood what you meant. Or maybe he didn't realise that you said it because in that moment Morgan slumped down across from you.

“So pretty boy, couldn't help but notice that JJ was wearing your favourite sweater this morning.” Spencer’s eyes darted from you to Derek. You took note of the slight reddish blush greeting the young doctors facial features. Nervously, he cleared his throat.“I let her borrow it.” “Nice one kid!” Morgan exclaimed with a grin as you sulked back into your seat; heart aching.

The rest of the day flew by in the blink of an eye. It was suddenly two in the morning and the whole team was heading back to the hotel, all equally exhausted.

As usual you were bunking with Elle who called dibs on the bathroom and disappeared the moment you set foot inside your room. Through the wall, you could hear the shower being switched on accompanied by Elle’s not so quiet humming.

There was a knock on the door breaking you away from listening to the concert Elle was performing. With a smile on your face, you headed to open it. The young doctor greeted you on the other side.

“Spencer, what are you doing here?”

He held up the book he was reading earlier. “I’m here for our date.”

You blinked - did you hear that correctly? “I-uh” “It-It’s late I know, but I eh didn't want you thinking I stood you up.” With a raised brow, you stepped out into the hall closing the door behind you. You couldn’t tell whether he was being serious. Obviously not, right?

“Spencer, I was just kidding around.” You lied, instantly regretting it. His face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry Y/N. I’ll eh I’m just gonna go.” He hesitated briefly before turning on his heel to walk away. “Goodnight Y/N.”

The young doctor began to stride down the hall. You cursed quietly as Elle’s comment to ‘come clean’ flashed like an alert in your head.

“Spencer wait!”

He froze and immediately turned back to look in your direction. Taking a deep breath, you took a couple of steps towards him. He did the same and the two of you met in the middle.

“I lied, I wasn’t kidding. I would love to go on a date with you.” Anxiously, you pulled at the hem of your shirt as you continued on. There were tears forming in your eyes. “But then I think, why would you ever want to go out with someone like- like me. Someone who looks like me when you could easily be with the perfect petite JJ. Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty. She’s perfect and, well, I’m not.”

Finally, you mustered up the courage to look up from your feet and meet his inviting soft gaze. “The idea of perfection is outdated in my opinion.” Spencer stated while taking a step forward so that you were now standing chest to chest.

“Imagine looking at a rainbow and complaining that one of the colours wasn't perfect. That be ridiculous, yet it’s exactly what humans do when we judge ourselves for our imperfections. We forget that as humans we are also part of nature and therefore should fall into acceptance of the natural state of life which happens to be imperfect.”

Slowly, and slightly awkwardly, the young doctor lifted his hand to cup your cheek. You leaned into his warm touch without hesitation. “H-however to me Y/N,” He paused. “, y-you are perfect.”

masterlist

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #songfic #spencer reid songfic #dr spencer reid

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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years

Text

Lovey-dovey valentines | G.W.

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

summary: Being in a relationship with George while you’re at Hogwarts, the two of you spend Valentine’s Day together.

word count: 2602

warnings: mentions of food and eating

a/n: this was supposed to come out for valentines but oh well!

tags: @izzyyy-1 ; @amourtentiaa ; @thisismynerdyself ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss ; @lumos-barnes ; @hufflepuffalice ; @slytherclawbitch ; @hufflepuff5972 ; @pandaxnienke ; @harrysweasleys ; @ickle-ronniekins ; @whizboingies

Feedback means the world!!

„Y/N!! Y/N, wait up..!” you heard Harry call from behind you, as you reached the moving staircase. You turned around immediately and waited for him, confused about the urgency in the tone of his voice. You were slightly worried he had some new trouble again.

“Hi,” you greeted, once he caught up, breathing a bit heavily. “You alright?” “Brilliant,” he nodded, smiling a bit awkwardly. You began walking together in the direction of your common room. “I, uhm- I think-… I just accidentally asked Cho out on a date.”

You snorted quietly with amusement, wondering how one can do such a thing accidentally. “Or maybe it was her who asked me out, I don’t know…” he mumbled. “She sort of mentioned that the next Hogsmeade weekend falls on Valentines Day and then it kind of happened…” “But that was the goal, wasn’t it?” you interrupted, “ You wanted to go out with Cho?” “Yeah, yeah, I did. I mean, I do.” “Good for you then,” you congratulated your friend and continued walking in comfortable silence as you suspected a million thoughts flooded his mind right now.

The thought of love day approaching got you thinking as well.

You and George have been in a relationship for months now, but this would be your first valentine’s day together. Your relationship was quite serious for your age, you thought. From the very beginning, you were crazy for each other. After a few months, you said your first ‘I love you’, being more certain of it than anything else in your life.

George was leading you to the hospital wing, holding your hand tightly, yet a bit stiffly. His jaw was clenched and he hasn’t said a word the whole way.

You had burnt your hand while practising potion making with an old friend of yours. A friend who, as George knew, used to have a crush on you before you were in a relationship. That was a sensitive topic, you rarely brought it up. George wouldn’t cause a scene over something like that, nor would he try to limit you, but you knew it bugged him.

“Are you upset because I was with Matt?”

Silence.

“How long is it going to keep upsetting you? You know he doesn’t matter, why are you still jealous?” you stopped walking. “How can I not be?!” he asked sincerely, raising his voice a bit in frustration and turned to face you.

“Because I love you, idiot!” you shouted. “I love you…” you repeated quietly, toning down as you realised what you said. The words that had been circling your mind for weeks, wanting to come out.

All trace of previous anger disappeared from his face as his expression softened and he looked into your eyes, looking for any sign of uncertainty. Your confession shocked him, so much so that his mind went blank and he stared at you in silence.

“Georgie..?” you whispered, your voice quivering a bit as his silence started worrying you in your vulnerable state.

He snapped out of his trance, blinking a few times.

“I love you. Like crazy,” he confessed breathily.

This was all you needed to hear as you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and he hugged you back tightly around your middle, picking you up. “I love you,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head and hid your face in the crook of his neck. “… with all my heart.”

Although you loved each other dearly and never failed to express your feelings to each other, a big part of your relationship was the friendship you shared. You had also developed a bit of an old married couple dynamic, especially around your group of friends. They even joked you two were the parents of the group – which applied sometimes, but most times you were just as irresponsible as the rest of your teenage friends.

You noticed George laughing and hanging out with his mates by the couches, he saw you right away. You smiled at him, motioning you would go up to your room to leave your things and change then come back.

When you walked down the stairs, George got up right away, walking up to you and took your hand in his. Knowing him, this meant he wanted to go upstairs to his room, eager to spend some time alone with you.

“Hi, bubs,” he leaned down to give you a quick kiss. “Had an okay day?” he asked, already leading you towards the stairs. “Yeah, uneventful but alright. You had any fun?” “Not as much as right now,” he replied cheekily.

When you reached his room, you got comfortable on George’s bed and chatted about your day. When the conversation hit a natural pause, your thoughts came back to valentines. You’ve never had the chance to properly celebrate that day before, except for getting an odd card or two. You also knew you were George’s first proper girlfriend, so you didn’t know what to expect. You didn’t even know if he liked the holiday.

“Do you have any plans for valentines?” you asked a bit out of the blue. George looked at you with a neutral expression and replied, “Yeah, I have a date, actually. This really nice Hufflepuff bloke asked me out,” he carried on, and you quickly realised that you should’ve phrased your question differently with him.

He chuckled at your eye-roll and pinched your waist playfully.

“I thought you liked surprises. If I answer your question, wouldn’t that ruin it - if I had anything planned?” “Not if you just said you were planning something. It would, however, prevent a situation where we both plan out the whole day for the other and clash terribly.” “Mhm, true, true…” he nodded. “Well, I haven’t planned anything yet. Have you?” “No.” “Okay, then…” he nodded, “ Is there anything you’d like to do?”

You thought for a moment, looking at your boyfriend’s face as he smiled at you.

“Can I have you to myself for the whole day?” you asked.

His smile only grew wider as his heart swelled from your pure love. He moved closer to you, his face centimetres away from yours. “You sure you want that?” He kissed you on the cheek and snuggled into your neck, adding, “morning till night-time?” “Yes, morning till night-time,” you replied with a giggle, squirming a bit from the sensation of his face pressed against your sensitive neck, where he started planting soft, delicate kisses.

———⁙⁙⁛♥⁛⁙⁘———

On the morning of February 14th, you awoke with a jolt, the excitement of the holiday pushing your usual difficulties with getting out of bed away. Your roommates were still fast asleep, some even snoring quietly. You opened your eyes and pushed the curtains of your four-poster open quickly, then got up to see a gift bag and a bouquet of roses at the foot of the bed.

A smile broke out on your face at once and you could only hope George would be just as happy upon seeing a gift from you after waking up.

You couldn’t help but pick up the flowers first to inspect their beauty closer and run the tips of your fingers over the soft petals. With a flick of your wand, you conjured a glass vase onto your bedside table, filled it with water and put the bouquet in.

Inside the bag were some of your favourite sweets and a pinkish-white envelope. You put the sweets away for later, and picked up the envelope eagerly.

Dear Y/N,

as you probably already know, I’m not the best at describing my feelings using words. After sitting down to write this I realised there just aren’t any good enough to describe my love for you.

Stick with me and I promise to show you.

I already can’t wait to see you.

Love you, always,

George

You blinked away the tears collecting in your eyes, grinning like a fool at the piece of paper. You’d expected the note to be sweet, but it touched you beyond expectations.

You took a refreshing shower, did your morning routine and came back to your dorm room where the day has already started. Some of your roommates chirpy and energetic, some groggily crawling out of their beds. You put on the outfit you had picked out the previous evening and put a considerable amount of effort into your appearance – you really felt good.

Feeling giddy, you stepped out of your room and skipped down the spiralled steps quickly, hoping to find George already waiting for you in the common room.

He was sitting alone – Fred and Lee clearly still sleeping – on the rug in front of the fire. Lazily flicking his wand, he was making butterflies out of an old Daily Prophet, which then flew into the fire, disappearing in a mesmerising sight. George’s cheek was resting on his forearm, on one of his knees, with a slightly bored yet curious expression on his face. He was wearing a cardigan over a t-shirt and his hair was considerably less messy than usual – you smiled adoringly, that was him dressing up for you.

He heard your footsteps as you got closer and turned around, then jumped onto his feet, pocketing his wand. Beaming, he outstretched his arms to hug you.

“Good morning, Georgie,” you greeted before pressing your face into his chest, inhaling his scent, and you wrapped your arms tightly around him. “Hi, Darling,” he replied, leaning down, and you pulled away just enough to kiss.

“Happy valentines day,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead.

You walked down to breakfast, hand in hand and settled down by the table. You noticed some of the food had a love-day twist to it, like heart-shaped toast.

“Have you thought about what you wanted to do, in more detail?” George asked you before taking a sip of his coffee. “Mmm, actually… I thought, maybe we could just go really cliché, you know? Like, do all those stereotypically-romantic things.” You played with the food on your plate a bit sheepishly, even though your request wasn’t that far-fetched and above all, you had no reason to be shy in front of George. “I want to do that with you,” you added, a bit quieter.

George didn’t answer for a moment, but took his fork with a bit of his food and put it in front of your lips. “Open up,” he instructed with a foolish grin. You looked at him and chuckled, but opened your mouth nonetheless.

Chewing, you bumped into his side playfully but thought to yourself, it really did taste better.

———⁙⁙⁛♥⁛⁙⁘———

After lunch, it was time for most of the students to make their way to Hogsmeade. You and George lost the crowd after passing the school gates, you swayed your intertwined hands between the two of you excitedly.

You went on your usual Hogsmeade shop tour first, the necessary stops being Zonko’s for George’s mischief supplies and Honeydukes for some snacks for the two of you.

Walking along one of the side roads, giggling at one of your boyfriend’s jokes, you saw it.

The epitome of corny romance, in all its flowery and frilly glory – Madam Puddifoot’s.

You gasped audibly, making George stop talking. It took him a second to realise what you’ve been looking at, the tea shop usually being ignored by most.

“What?” he asked suspiciously, after adding two and two together. “We have to go in.” “We don’t have to do anything.” “No-n-no- we have to,” you repeated, finally looking at him, just to see him try to force a smile over the slight disgust written on his face.

If there was ever a good time to visit the sickly romantic shop, it was now. You tugged his hand in the direction of the entrance with a wide, mischievous grin on your face.

“I’m so making fun of everyone in there,” he murmured into your ear, going through the door into the cosy space filled with couples. “I know. I’ll be doing that with you,” you replied, scanning the tables to find a nice spot for the two of you.

You had a nice conversation over a cup of tea, drowning out the slightly uncomfortable sounds of others, trying very hard not to look at Roger Davies sucking his girlfriend’s face.

Then, the door opened again and in walked Harry with Cho. You and George both noticed that, George’s eyebrows raised approvingly as he was previously unaware of this particular piece of school gossip.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that…” you whispered, suddenly curious again about how your friend’s date is going. You had the best hopes for Harry, you knew he’s had a crush on Cho for a long time and he’s talked to you about it a few times.

You tried not to pay attention to them but to your own boyfriend sitting next to you, now holding your hand. You also couldn’t really see them - when you were turned to George, Harry and Cho were out of your field of view.

But then, your tables weren’t that far away in the small space, you heard Harry ask Cho about going to see Hermione later. It did not take you long to figure out how he completely missed how the question came out.

Your conversation with George stopped and you looked up into his eyes. You knew he heard them too and was thinking the same thing as you. You really shouldn’t. But you did anyway.

The two of you bent lower over the table, turning to the side unsuspiciously. The conversation you were listening in on kept going downhill. “Yikes,” George commented quietly so that only you would hear.

Harry was confused and Cho was getting angry. She turned around, looking over the rest of the tables and George reacted quickly. He took your face by the jaw to turn the back of your head to them, then kissed you hard, making it look like you were snogging the whole time.

You gave up on your spying plans quickly and kissed him back, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

Soon, first Cho, then Harry were out of the tea shop, and you went back to just enjoying each other’s presence.

———⁙⁙⁛♥⁛⁙⁘———

“M’lady,” George handed you your hot butterbeer as you sat on the edge of the fountain of the clocktower courtyard, deserted so late in the evening. Cushions prepared by George were separating you from the cold stone.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” you replied, batting your lashes as you took the beverage from him, warming both of your hands on it. You snuggled up to George’s side when he sat next to you, wrapping an arm around you – another source of warmth on this cold evening.

But it was absolutely worth it –nature graced you with a cloudless sky, allowing you to stargaze to your heart’s content.

“Did I do a good job?” George asked you after minutes of silence. “Delightful,” you replied genuinely, the happiness clear in the tone of your voice. “So you enjoyed your Valentine’s Day?” he inquired further, kissing your temple. “I loved it, Georgie,” you said, looking up at him, “did you?” “Yeah, me too. And it was nice having just the two of us for the whole day.”

“Mhm,” you brought one of your warm hands to his jaw and brushed your thumb over his skin. “Every day with you is wonderful, but it is nice to have a day like this every once in a while.”

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