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comfortwriting · 4 years ago

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I Hate You - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Requested/About: Enemies to lovers smut! Fred is constantly getting his classmate into trouble, and Y/N is finding herself spending more of her evenings in detention with him - her hate for him growing. One evening, something out of the ordinary happens between them.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mention of blood, smut, fingering, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex.

"Stop shaking the desk!" you hissed at your transfiguration partner.

Fred smirked and squinted at you "no" he replied, his ego popping out in his voice "if you've got a problem go and sit somewhere else"

You watched Fred waving his wand at the mouse that cowered in front of him, letting out little squeaks each time Fred failed to transform it into a large cotton bud.

How this feud started between the two of you - you couldn't remember - you were past caring. All you know is that Fred hates you, and you hate him, his face pisses you off and your face - your body frustrates him.

He thought about you constantly, almost as if you were invading his mind on purpose just to taunt him - you appeared in his dreams and he couldn't stop it, he couldn't figure out why this was happening - why he would dream of you feeling nothing but hatred, only to wake up with his ejaculate spilling on his bedsheets.

"Don't ask me for any help during potions class, then." You replied, taking out your wand, the mouse suddenly going stiff, then turning round fluffy, losing its legs, ears, facial features, and tail.

Fred scowled at you, poking the cotton bud with the tip of his wand "I wasn't going to" he slouched back in his chair, pulling apart what once was the mouse, grumbling under his breath. "This is kids stuff" he huffed "It's only why you're good at it."

You rolled your eyes and snatched the cotton bud out of his hands, 'Reparo!' putting it back together and transforming the bud back into the innocent, shy, creature that curled up into and started to tremble in your hands.

"Miss Y/L/N, I think your partner can do his own work" Miss McGonagall spoke out, staring down at you whilst walking past your desk "Sit up Mr Weasley!" she hissed at Fred, hurrying to the front of the classroom.

Fred sighed and sat up grudgingly, "It's alright for you, being a good girl who never makes mistakes, who everyone loves so dearly."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes "you talk so much shit, Fred Weasley!" you huffed "I actually spend my time revising because I actually make mistakes, something I'm sure you've never given the time of day to work on!"

Fred huffed "You sound just like my brother Percy, it's as if he never bloody left!"

Whilst the back and forth continued to unfold between you and Fred, the class was dismissed, everyone leaving - you and Fred didn't notice, too wrapped up in arguing, his brother George and friend Lee stayed behind, watching and enjoying the entertainment.

"Well, you know what!" you raised your voice, picking up your bag and pushing your books inside "sod you! you're on your own next lesson, don't come begging when Snape rips you a new one!" you stood up from your chair and stormed off.

"Nice one Fred" George called out, walking out of the great hall and towards the dungeons "you're going to suffer in there, mate."

Fred pulled a sour face "she's the most obnoxious bitch I've ever met"

Unfortunately for Fred, you were in earshot of his insult "Obnoxious bitch?" you laughed out, catching up to him "lads like you are all the same, threatened by smarter women"

George laughed, bashing Fred in the ribs with his elbow, Fred felt mortified and could feel himself wanting to grab you and shove you against a wall, the thought of doing it however made him feel something he didn't want to admit...

he couldn't

no way

feelings for you? oh please...

Fred rattled his brain, trying hard to shake this intruding feeling out of him, he hates you, love is out of the question, anything intimate is a red flag.

"Well, with what you lack in looks and personality you make up for in IQ, I'm not threatened by you, you're just disgusting to look at and be around. My skiving Snack boxes wouldn't change your appearance you're that bloody ugly." he snapped.

Ugly.

Your heart pained at the word, why? you didn't know, whenever anyone attacked your looks and your body, you didn't care, it meant nothing to you - so why your heart is suddenly hurting did more than baffled you.

Why should you care?

It's not like you're in love with him or anything

You could feel your stomach doing flips, your blood boiling, how dare he!

"it's a shame because your dick will never match the size of your ego, regardless if it's flaccid or hard." You snapped back, pushing past him, bashing into him on purpose, storming towards the dark and dingy dungeons.

Fred went bright red, infuriated that you shamed him in front of his twin, especially for something that he believed determined his value as a man, his blood - like yours, now also boiling.

He wanted to storm after you, grab you by the wrist, pull you into him so you couldn't escape, he wanted to stare down at you whilst demanding an apology, hell, he wanted to show you - show you just how wrong you were.

"Come on now, Freddie" George spoke out, breaking him out of his thoughts "don't let her bother you, all the lasses say shit like that - if you let her get under your skin, she's winning."

she's winning

Fred couldn't and wouldn't allow that to happen, never in a million years - you wouldn't get away with embarrassing him like this, you were in for it, without a clue of what Fred is capable of.

Potions were nothing short of pure hell, you weren't able to switch seats, forced to endure two long hours with Fred who had never looked so angry before, he shot daggers at you, practically seething and speaking through gritted teeth when he needed to look over the ingredients and steps.

"I told you not to bother asking me for help" you snarled, stirring your cauldron, Snape watching the two of you argue in pleasure behind his test papers he should be marking instead.

Fred huffed "Well until you budge over, quit being greedy and let me pick what I need or I'll keep bloody asking!"

You bit your tongue, trying not to swear "Look, you forgot your book, either go and ask Snape if he has a spare or bugger off!"

Fred could feel himself losing his temper, his body temperature increasing, his heart thumping, his fists bunching.

"The two of you will have plenty of time to discuss during detention" Snape spoke, dragging out his words.

You shot Fred an angry look, your eyes widening and your nostrils flaring, Fred looked back at you, shaking his head whilst your Professor walked away, causing the two of you to argue even more.

"Look what you've done now! Thanks a lot!" you raised your voice, stirring your cauldron so angrily, specks of dark amber liquid splashed onto the desk and your skirt, hissing away.

Fred scoffed and stood up, snatching your book away from you, gripping it in his hand "What I've done?" he shook his head "You've caused this!"

"One more word and one detention will become a week's worth," Snape warned.

"Caused what?" You stood up, puffing out your chest "I haven't done anything! You're just an idiot, a dumb idiot who is jealous because I'm going somewhere in life and you aren't because you're fucking stupid!" You yelled, the whole room becoming silent.

Fred stared at you, his heart hurting, he wanted to cry.

idiot, dumb, fucking stupid, going nowhere in life.

"You're a fucking bitch, who everyone laughs at, who everyone thinks is a loser!" He yelled back.

These two weeks of detention would change everything and the two of you had no idea.

Arriving early in the Hospital Wing which surprisingly had empty beds that had been stripped from their bedding, Madame Pomfrey waved you over to her, a forced smile spreading across her face.

"You're rather early"

"I know" you sighed "It's to make up for Fred being late" you grumbled, the thought of hours with him this evening making your head pound.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey wandered around the hospital wings, laying out dirty bedsheets, pillowcases, pyjamas, empty dishes, and medicine bottles "the two of you - when he arrives - will be cleaning everything, without magic" she emphasised that last part, "I thought I'd be rather easy on you this time, you won't be scrubbing any bedpans this week."

You nodded, realising that she wouldn't be sticking around to watch you or Fred, you walked up to the long table and popped on the large purple rubber gloves, sitting down on the stool, waiting for your nightmare to turn up.

"You can only start when he arrives" Madame Pomfrey reminded you "Whatever you can't finish, you'll do tomorrow, and if there are any patients, you'll have extra work." She walked out of the hospital wing, leaving you behind, the waiting game beginning.

Two hours passed by, two long and dreadfully boring hours, you stared at Fred's matching purple gloves, itching to just get started and clean up; but you couldn't.

Instead, you filled the large bucket with laundry detergent, there was no point in adding any hot water, it would be left to cool anyway if Fred didn't show up soon.

Fred waltzed in, laughing and waving goodbye to his twin, shutting the door behind him. His face dropped when he met your eyes, he noticed your gloves and smirked, laughing lightly "you look ridiculous."

"I don't care what you think," you snapped "You're two hours late, everything just piles up you know, it doesn't just go away."

Fred pulled out the wand from his pocket "Oh come off it, love."

Love?!

Fred fell quiet, he felt embarrassed, mortified, and you stared at him confused, horrified even, your eyebrows knitted together. You brushed his mistake aside, knowing that pulling him up about it would just strengthen the argument.

"We can't use magic." You pointed to the line of buckets, sponges, scrubbers, mop, and broom "Everything has to be done by hand, the muggle way."

Fred's face fell, even more, something you thought wasn't possible, you picked up his matching purple rubber gloves and threw them at him "put them on."

Fred wanted to argue, but he couldn't, he didn't know what to say - the feelings inside of him confusing him, making him question everything, he felt sick, he could feel a strange fluttering inside of his stomach, something he only felt when he was in love.

Why was he feeling this now? How was he such a thing... love for you? He hates you.

Fred caught the rubber gloves and put them on, not saying a word. You filled up the empty buckets with warm water, the cleaning liquid making the water foam up with bubbles.

"You sweep" you passed him the boom "I'll mop after you've done, we'll take turns washing the bedding, pyjamas, dishes and bottles."

Fred's hate for you suddenly went through another wave, the fire igniting in his belly, he snatched the broom from you. "Just shut up and let's get on with it." He snapped, starting to sweep the dusty, grimey floor.

You walked away from him and sat down, huffing so the hair in your face moved away over your head, you placed the bucket on your lap, grabbed the pyjama shirt and laundry stain remover soap and started to scrub, focusing hard on the fresh spots of blood.

"I wasn't the one who turned up two hours late," you muttered under your breath, scrubbing the shirt harder, the red liquid slowly getting lighter.

Fred had swept the majority of the floor, he looked over at you, stopped sweeping and glared.

"Shut up," he grumbled

You grinned, the sight of him in purple gloves making you burst out into laughter.

"You look ridiculous" you laughed, dunking the pyjama shirt into the warm water, the stain finally lifting and ready to dry.

Fred dropped the broom, its long wooden handle clanked against the floor, you looked up at him as he stormed over to you, pulling off his gloves and throwing them across the room.

The way he walked with the expression on his face made you flutter, your crotch heating up and getting excited as he inched closer and closer to you, his hands now gripping on the table. You sighed and placed the bucket on the table, squeezing the water out of the pyjama top and handing it up to dry, Fred still staring at you.

You turned around, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes, sighing and pulling off your rubber gloves, setting them down on the table.

"What?"

"Don't what me."

"Well stop staring!"

Fred pushed the buckets of water off the table angrily, the water splashing as the buckets collided with the swept floor, the foamy and suddy water spilling everywhere.

"What was that for!" you yelled.

Fred reached out for you over the table and pulled you into him, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't ignore these feelings, his feelings, his wants, his needs, he couldn't deny himself of you anymore. When his lips crashed against yours, something that you couldn't describe clicked, like the missing piece to a puzzle, and you kissed back.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, lustful, and the two of you just wanted to fuck.

Your hands got lost in his hair, pulling at it as Fred gripped onto your waist, both of you now mounting the table, the dishes, bottles, bedding, and pyjamas fell on the floor, absorbing the water.

Moaning against his lips, Fred's hands pulled at your top, you moved your hands away from his hair and lifted your arms up, your top being pulled up before falling to the floor, being soaked by the water. The sight of you in your bra made Fred's face heat up and go red, he quickly unfastened your bra, unable to control himself.

He took your breast into his mouth, sucking your nipple, you lolled your head back and moaned, one of your hands held his gentle face as he sucked, the other fell down to his trousers, slowly undoing the buttons and pulling down his zipper. Your hand sneaked underneath the waistband of his boxers and you took hold of his erect length - you were wrong - his cock was as big as his ego, and you knew when you were able to look at it, it would be even bigger.

Fred's free hand dived under your skirt and went into your underwear, whilst wanking him off his index circled around your entrance hole - you were so wet, the thought of being this close to him usually repulsed you - but right now, you wanted nothing more than him inside of you, fucking you as much as he hated you.

His index finger slowly pushed inside of you, you moaned out and tugged on his cock harder, he started to finger you faster, knowing part of him was inside you made you so wet, and got you so excited. Fred added his middle finger, now pumping them faster as your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled off your red and saliva coated nipple and attacked your neck with kisses, then sucking, leaving his marks all over you.

Fred pushed you down on your back so your body was now pressed against the cool table, he continued to finger fuck you, you pulled down his trousers and boxers with both hands, already missing the feeling of his throbbing cock filling one of them. You glanced down - you were definitely wrong - his length was large, definitely outshining his ego.

"You wanted me to shut up, didn't you?" you asked Fred, he pulled away from sucking on your neck, a confused expression formed on his face.

"Is that what you want?" he smirked, catching on "you want me to shut you up with my cock?" he withdrew his fingers, now coated with your juices, sucking them clean.

Fred leaned back, taking his cock in his hand "go on then" he encouraged you "suck my cock."

"Make me."

Fred grabbed you by the hair - but not roughly or too hard - you were actually quite surprised by his gentleness. You were on your knees now, sucking Fred's large length, choking on it as you went down deeper and deeper, taking more of him in your mouth.

Fred loved the sight of you sucking him off, the sight of your mouth being so full you couldn't say something stupid, the sound of you choking made him happy, he was finally shutting you up - but part of him didn't want to shut you up, he wanted to listen to you speaking about your interests, your hobbies, what you thought of Hogsmeade and Zonko's Joke Shop.

This part of him pulled you off him, you caught your breath and wiped away the laces of saliva that were hanging from your mouth, swinging as you moved back with the back of your hand. Fred pulled you into a kiss, this time it wasn't lustful, it was gentle, caring, soft - it made your heart skip a beat and it made you weak at the knees.

Once more, your back was against the table, Fred pulled down your skirt and knickers whilst still kissing you, your hands back in his hair, massaging his scalp, Fred propped your legs around his hips, you pulled him closer to you.

Fred grabbed out a condom, but you stopped him.

"Don't bother with that crap" you sighed, wanting him inside you already "I'm on the pill."

Fred nodded, confident that this would be enough, and he applied lube onto his length.

You wondered why he had brought condoms and a sache of lube, Fred didn't know why - he never usually carried these items, but after weeks of the same dreams that he couldn't explain - that small part of him kept telling him, over and over to bring it.

Fred looked into your eyes, searching for your permission, you nodded your head.

"I'm ready, Freddie." you breathed.

Freddie.

He had never expected you - of all people - to call him that, but he liked it, and he hoped that he could hear it again.

Fred rubbed his erect length against your folds teasingly, and then slowly pushed himself inside of you, the two of you moaned and exhaled - he felt amazing - stretching you out, and your walls felt amazing - tightening around him. He started to fuck you faster, his large length plunging deeper inside of you as he bucked his hips, your legs tightened around him, as did your walls, your hands now resting on his back, your fingernails digging into him leaving marks of your own.

His moans were beautiful - perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. How could you hate him? How could you be so mean to him, insult him, mock him and shame him, he was perfect, everything about him - your heart now reaching out to his - how could you be so wrong?

You didn't hate him, you were madly in love with him.

Fred couldn't take his eyes off you and your body - the perfect shape and size of your breasts, your tummy, the feeling of your insides engulfing him in warmth, your gorgeous eyes staring into his, the feeling of your fingers tips gliding over his back, then your fingernails scratching him.

Fred felt stupid, he felt awful for what he said to you - the way he treated you - calling you ugly - you were far from such a thing. This moment felt better and meant more than any dream he ever had - this was real, this was the moment he had been waiting for - his heart finally finding yours.

"Fuck!" you moaned out, reaching the edge "Please don't stop, fuck me, I want to cum!" you wailed.

Fred couldn't stop, he didn't want to, even if he was getting tired and over working himself.

He continued to fuck you, feeling himself getting close, you lolled your head back, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and released - your cum spilling onto his length, your moans filling the hospital wing. Your orgasm face pushed Fred over the edge, he spilt himself inside you and collapsed, holding you in his arms.

The two of you said nothing, you were trying to make sense of this all, and you were in trouble - after tonight, you would have a lot of explaining to do - not just to one another, but to Madame Pomfrey who would be back in half an hour.

After coming to, Fred pulled out his wand and dried your clothes, so toastie to put back on. You started to mop the floor as Fred speedily washed the pillow cases and bed sheets, hanging them up to dry, then starting on the dishes. With the floor sparkling clean, you joined him, cleaning and rinsing the bottles.

"You're not an idiot" You spoke out, breaking the awkward silence "You're not dumb either, and I don't doubt that you're going to go far in life."

This meant a lot to Fred, it made him feel secure.

"You're not ugly" Fred replied, scrubbing another bowl "You're not an obnoxious bitch."

Looking up at Fred, into his deep brown eyes, your pursed your lips for a moment.

"I don't hate you."

"I don't either."

"I don't want to hate you, I-"

"I feel things for you too, Y/N."

Madame Pomfrey burst through the door, staring at the rows of dirty bowls and bottles that needed cleaning.

"Looks like you two will be back here tomorrow!"

You and Fred shared a glance, smiling, with a flush of pink across your cheeks.

These two weeks were the start of something special.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @lucymfer @escapingrealitybyreading @freddiemylovelg @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

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kpoptrashlord-007 · 4 years ago

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Flour Cheeks;; YHS

Word Count;; 1.6k

Genre;; Fluff Overload!

Pairing;; Hongseok x Reader

Summary;;

While you understand that some mornings you'll wake up alone, your curiosity does get the better of you when you realise your boyfriend has chosen to leave the comfort of your shared bed despite not needing to. It's warm, fluffy, and soft and filled with the possibilities of additional dreaming and yet you soon find yourself also being drawn away from its comforts.

Request;;

Hiii! Can I please request something fluffy with Pentagon's Hongseok? Maybe cooking him and y/n cooking and being all cute? Thank you!! <333

Warnings;;

None!

Notes;;

I remember him cooking well in one of his lives so I went to look for it and found the waffle incident instead ahsjjdkfkg. Also sorry I took longer than I said I would! Our parents stopped by while we were doing our laundry and I didn't have time to write like I thought I would. Hope you enjoy this all the same and...

Happy late birthday to our Honk Honk! ♡

My Masterlist

Sunlight streamed in through the curtain's gap to cover the duvet in splashes of yellow and white. It brightened the room, forcing you to squint while you checked your phone's notifications. With a huff, you tossed the device back onto the bedside table and closed your eyes once more.

It was getting late. The sun was high in the sky as if to taunt you for your laziness and the room warmed beneath its abundant rays. You soon found yourself kicking the bedding clear off the mattress as you flipped over and away from the window.

Due to the lack of your boyfriend's firm chest to stop you from invading his side of the bed, your initial roll was followed by another, more exaggerated flop. Spreading your limbs with a strained sigh, you once again tried opening your eyes. The room was still bright but you pushed through the searing discomfort to search for Hongseok.

Though the bathroom door was only propped open by a sliver, the lack of light and movement was enough for you to write it off as empty. The bedroom itself provided a similar scene: devoid of Hongseok but with small clues as to his whereabouts. His house shoes were moved but his phone was still on the charger. The dresser hadn't closed all the way, catching on one of his shirts. He had been in a rush and yet he hadn't dressed to go out, having grabbed clothes from the casual section of his wardrobe.

You chuckled and shook your head. Whatever had been on his mind wasn't important enough to wake you up and you were grateful for the additional rest. Stretching once again, you pushed the remainder of the bedding off with a yawn before curling up into a ball.

His side of the bed smelled like him (surprise, surprise) and you enjoyed the mornings when you could sleep in after he left almost as much as the mornings you woke up beside him. You pushed your face into his pillow and sighed. His body wash and shampoo flooded your senses. It was comforting and it made you feel safe because he made you feel safe.

You inhaled breath by breath, drifting off to sleep until the soothing scent of Hongseok dissipated and was replaced by the strong, undesirable scent of burning. Your eyes snapped open a step slower than your body that had already slid out of bed. Without stopping to grab your shoes or to throw on pants, you fumbled out of your shared bedroom.

The apartment wasn't huge and it didn't take long for your legs that were in pursuit of the smoke to stumble into the kitchen. Inside you took note of your handsome boyfriend wearing that ridiculous apron you had bought him as a gag gift for his last birthday. Flour graced his tanned cheeks and you fought back a laugh, biting your lip to keep yourself silent. His expression was both serious and exasperated while he observed the steady pillar of smoke escaping the miniature waffle maker.

"If you make it too obvious, the insurance won't pay out," you teased. His eyes latched onto your form, lingering on your bare thighs that peeked out from beneath his oversized shirt. A grin formed on his lips as he beckoned you to his side. You were quick to oblige. "So what's up? Making breakfast?"

"Good morning beautiful. I can't answer any questions until I have a kiss." He tapped his cheek twice. Powder still marked them. You leaned around him to grab a kitchen towel and you found it through memory rather than sight, your gaze focused and locked onto his. Though he tapped his foot in impatience, he was smiling and mischief shone in his eyes.

The cloth wasn't the softest material so you were cautious of how much pressure you exerted on his soft skin. It wasn't until you pulled away to admire your handiwork that you noticed the towel (and most of the surfaces nearby) was also covered in flour and your attempt to wipe away the powder had only created a bigger smudge. Your whole body trembled with the bottled-up laughter brewing deep in your chest. "What? What's so funny?"

"You're covered in flour, baby." You managed to force the words out before you let loose and your laugh filled every corner of the room. Hongseok frowned and turned away from you, focusing his attention back on the waffle maker. At least it was no longer smoking. Next to the appliance was a plate of… something you couldn't quite identify. "And what the hell is that?"

"What? That? You can't tell? It's clearly a waffle. And here I thought you were cultured," he said, his voice strained as he tried to pry the appliance open. Upon noticing the secured latch, you nudged him aside and popped the lock before flipping the lid open. Out of instinct his arms wrapped around your waist and yanked you back away from the billow of steam that rushed upward out of the small machine.

"What's the point of using the waffle maker if it doesn't make waffles?" He whined, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Did it make that"—distaste crossed your face as you gestured toward the plate of goop—"mess too?"

"No, I tried… it doesn't matter. The last resort is the other waffle maker."

"Or maybe we should stop now while we're only at two losses?"

"I'm a man who never gives up, baby. You know this."

Hongseok flashed you a grin, his eyes sparkling with determination as he cleared the counter. While his attention was on whipping up another batch of mixture, you decided to clean up his prior attempts. You scraped off the goo from the plate and ran it under hot water while you disconnected the miniature waffle maker and waited for it to cool down enough to soak the inner dish. The dishes stacked up in the sink and the small tower of plastic threatened to collapse like a Jenga tower when you added the last powder bowl Hongseok had discarded to the top.

"So what's the special occasion?"

"Are you kidding or do you owe me a massage?"

A massage? That could only mean-

Shoot!

"I was just kid-"

"Looks like my honey bunny owes me a massage! What a great start to our anniversary!"

"But I didn't forget!"

"Nah uh. I said the same thing last year, I was in the same boat, and you didn't go easy on me so I don't think I'll go easy on you, either."

"Hongseokkie," you pouted, jutting out your lips as you pulled on his arm. Your mind wandered when he flexed under your grasp, his muscles toned and strong. His efforts at the gym never went unnoticed. He continued his attempt to mix the blueberries and bananas into batter, oblivious to how your gaze devoured him. "I didn't forget."

"If I say I believe you, will you give me a massage anyway?"

"Maybe."

"Well I don't believe you."

You scoffed, a playful smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, "Alright, alright. Fine, I forgot, and you'll get your massage as owed. Now will you please abandon this futile waffle mission? We can just have our usual instead. Nothing beats healthy, anyway."

"Abandon as in give up? Who do you think I am? I'm going to make you the best damn waffles, just you watch."

"Right, right. Of course. And I'll try not to starve in the meantime."

He ignored your comment and focused on pouring the batter into the second waffle maker. This one was bigger, at least in comparison to the miniature maker. The miniature (theoretically) baked bite-sized waffles with little snowflakes on them. This regular-sized and completely average waffle maker had no special gimmick. It was straight-forward and easy to use.

Except that it wasn't.

Once Hongseok's pride diminished just enough to summon you back into the kitchen, you found yourself also struggling to make a single waffle that could pass as a waffle. None of your creations were recognisable as a breakfast treat. Some weren't even recognisable as food. Several plates of "waffles" had built up, each featuring varying degrees of baked all the way from gooey to charred. Your solo attempts hadn't fared any better.

"Can we give up yet?"

"No." He grabbed a piece of overcooked waffle from the maker and frowned. Half of the batter was close to burning while the other half was still liquid. With great caution, he nibbled on it. The regret was immediate. He thrusted it in your direction. "Try this."

"Gross," you said, pretending to gag. He took the opportunity to shove the waffle piece into your mouth. You swatted him away seconds too late. He laughed, dodging your flailing hits. Though crunchy and quite dry, the waffle wasn't actually that bad. It could be worse, you thought, eyeing the discarded plates. Much worse.

"So…"

"So…" you echoed. When he didn't continue, you nudged his slumped shoulder. His expression screamed disappointment upon looking at the numerous attempts which then morphed into irritation as he glared at the appliance and its lustrous shine. Despite the abundance of use it had undergone over the last few hours, it looked brand new and somehow clean. "While this has been quite the adventure, should we settle down with some oatmeal and relax?"

"You want to give up?"

"On the waffles? Yes. I'd rather cuddle with you than fight with this clearly defective waffle maker."

"Waffle makers," he empathised, glaring over at the abandoned miniature version.

"If nothing else, we've created a memory that will last a lifetime and I can't think of a better gift to receive on our very special day."

"I can think of something." You knew by his cheeky grin just what he planned to do and before he even raised his finger, you began to lean into his space. He pointed at his cheek all the same and awaited your kiss. Once again you laughed at his cute antics but this time you followed it up with a kiss.

#yang hongseok #hongseok x reader #pentagon x reader #kpop x reader #pentagon #kpop #yang hongseok x reader #kpop fluff #pentagon fluff #hongseok fluff #reader insert #pentagon fanfic #kpop fanfic #hongseok fanfic #kpop pentagon #kpoptrashlord-007 #soft hours #pentagon soft hours #kpop soft hours

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dewykth · 4 years ago

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SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle and @dewykth collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj word count. 7.5k+ warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳 i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter.

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head.

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry.

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel.

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation.

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go? Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

#bangtanhq #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #btsguild #btsgoldnet #cypherwritersnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic

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hotchley · 4 years ago

Text

hotchner’s hoodie

What’s up, I’m Sumayyah, I’ve been on CM tumblr for just over a year and I never cross-posted my first four fics until now, which is only because I changed my url, and now my laptop is going to die in 11 minutes so..

This is for @themetaphorgirl‘s PSOLC verse. You should read it. This is no longer compliant with that canon, but you know what, it is fine! I am literally doing this for the sake for a masterlist <3

Trigger Warnings: child abuse

read on ao3!

Aaron Hotchner was completely fine. He was not freaking out, he was not stressed and he most certainly was not about to burst into tears. He was a cool, calm and collected seventeen year old that was responsible, wise beyond his years and more mature than Alex Miller and James Blake put together.

Okay maybe he wasn’t the last one, but he was still a responsible teenager. He was not a child. He would not start crying over stupid, insignificant events.

But he could not find his hoodie. On any other day, not knowing the location of his hoodie would be greeted with a shrug, and the general acceptance that it would turn up somewhere. One of the younger kids- most likely Spencer- would have taken it because they were cold and had forgotten to put in the laundry. And that was fine. It had been fine since he’d met them and realised they needed at least one responsible person in their lives, if only to keep them alive.

But this wasn’t any other day, and as childish as it made him feel, he just really wanted to feel the soft and warm material of the hoodie against his bare arms. He wanted the familiar smell of the floral laundry detergent Lincoln House had ended up with when Penelope had worn the hoodie as soon as it came out of the wash and declared that they needed a new one. He wanted the one small piece of home that had not been tainted by memories of pain, tears and fear to remind himself why he went back there.

He would never tell the others, but the hoodie hadn’t been his choice. It had been Sean’s. They had gone together with his mother’s credit card- his father would never let him near his money- to buy him some extra clothes before he left for school. He’d spent the entire time worrying about what they would come home to and had been too stressed on making sure Sean was never out of his sight to properly look at what he was buying, just putting things that weren’t tacky or expensive in the basket and hoping for the best.

But then Sean had rubbed the front of the hoodie he was still searching for- he had could have sworn he left it in the bed drawer- and started laughing. Told him that it was so soft and nice and cuddly and warm that he had to buy it. And when he had hesitated, not sure whether buying something like that would land him in trouble, Sean had gasped. Said it was blue, just like his eyes and because he wouldn’t take a teddy to remind him of home, this could be the same thing.

He’d been unable to say no, so he’d gotten it, hidden it amongst the various textbooks and notebooks, and never taken it home. His father still didn’t know about the little indulgence. His mother did. She’d been so worried about him, but he’d been determined to take one good thing to the school with him.

So yes, he had never told anyone else why he was so attached to an old hoodie, but it was because he didn’t want them to know the truth. He didn’t want them to ask why he’d never said anything to the school, why he’d never trusted them enough to tell them, or the question that kept him laying awake at night: why had he left his mom and little brother in that house with that man?

His hands were starting to shake as he reached the bottom of the drawer with no sign of the hoodie and he reminded himself to breathe. It was just a hoodie, it wasn’t anything special. And if his father could see him…

He didn’t want to think about that. Not when he had just been home for the weekend because his mother had told him about how Sean had been so brave when he had been getting his vaccines because he wanted to be like his big brother superhero and not ask for help. Most people would’ve found it endearing.

Hotch found it sickening. He’d never wanted Sean to be like him: a seventeen-year-old too afraid of rejection to ask for anything.

He pushed the thoughts of his father from his mind. He couldn’t find his hoodie anywhere in his room, which meant one of the kids had to have it. Lessons were finished, the library was closed, but there was still a decent amount of time before dinner, which meant that they would probably all be in the Lincoln House common room.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and went down. He could hear them all laughing about something from the hallway and smiled. They were an odd group, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he would be there had he not been the RA for his floor, but he loved them. And he never wanted to stop hearing that laughter.

Which was why it made sense that it stopped as soon as he walked in. Everyone was sat in their usual seat: Alex and James were snuggled up on one of the sofas with Spencer in her lap, Emily was laying next to them, doing something on her phone. JJ and Penelope were sat on the floor, Derek crouching behind them and Dave was watching them all fondly from the armchair.

“Hey guys,” he said, even though they were all aware of his presence. “I was just wondering if anyone had seen my hoodie.”

They all looked at each other, the younger kids sheepish, the older ones smirking. He fought back the urge to let the tears spill and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was meant to be the responsible one.

“Look if one of you kids was wearing it and got jelly or mud or whatever it was on there I won’t be mad just tell me so I can put it in the wash,” he said, trying to keep his tone as gentle as possible so he didn’t scare the younger kids.

Derek snickered.

He sighed. “If it was used to put out a kitchen fire, I will also not be mad.”

Emily looked like she was two seconds away from dying of repressed laughter.

“And if you put Spencer in it and then dragged him round because he didn’t want to move and then somehow got water all over it, I won’t shout.”

JJ and Penelope gave each other identical smiles.

“If you decorated it with football and unicorn stickers because you thought it needed a bit of brightening up, that is fine but can you please, please just tell me where it is?” he repeated, his tone turning pleading at the end.

Both Alex and James gave him a concerned look, probably wondering why he was getting so worked up, but neither said anything as he schooled his features back into neutrality.

“Oh go on, put him out of his misery,” Dave said.

Hotch breathed a sigh of relief. He would get his hoodie back and everything would be fine. He would be fine.

“Hey Aaron. You left it at Roosevelt when you came to practice and then I forgot to give it back earlier. I promise I kept it safe, I know how much it means to all of you over here,” a very beautiful female voice said.

Hotch felt his heart stop and he squeezed his eyes shut. No. This was not happening to him. Haley Brooks was not sat there, laughing with his friends when he wasn’t there. She had not heard him go over all the various trials and tribulations his hoodie had suffered through. She had not just told everyone that when he had said he needed to speak to Gideon, he’d been lying because he’d gone to meet her and practice so he didn’t look like an idiot. And she most definitely was not stood in front of him, wearing it.

“Aaron?”

“I- yes. Erm, thank you. That was- that’s- it’s really, really nice on you,” he stuttered, already aware that his cheeks were completely red.

“On you?” she repeated with that angelic smile.

Oh god, had he really said that?

“Of you. It’s really nice of you to bring it over here. And you, umm, you look really pretty wearing it. Not that you don’t look pretty when you don’t wear it, you do, and I never say anything but-“

She rubbed his arm. His bare arm. “It’s fine, Aaron. I know what you meant. And it wasn’t that much effort to walk over here. Besides, I got to see Penelope and meet the rest of your family. They’re all amazing by the way.”

He stopped staring at her eyes and started staring at his arm, willing the goose bumps to go down. “Well thank you anyways. And they are, aren’t they?”

He could’ve punched the air. He got a whole sentence out without stuttering once.

“So you seemed pretty desperate to get it back,” she said, starting to take it off. The t-shirt she wore underneath had some musical reference on it, he didn’t know what one but he swallowed as he tried to keep his eyes on her face, not any lower. “Any particular reason?”

“No, no reason. I just-“ he was just what? There was nothing he could say without sounding pathetic. “It’s nothing. In fact if you’re cold why don’t you keep it? I can just grab a different one or something, my room is just up there, it’s fine.”

“Aaron, it’s your hoodie, you have every right to wear it. Here, move your arm and I’ll even put it on for you.”

“Haley, it’s fine. If you don’t wear it you’re going to freeze and if you try to get to Kennedy then you’ll be late for dinner,” he said.

She laughed, and although it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, he couldn’t help but feel like she was mocking him. “Come on Aaron, let me put it on you.”

No, she couldn’t do that. She just couldn’t. If she touched him, he would flinch at the pain and she would ask why. She would know. They all would.

“Yeah Aaron, let her,” Emily teased, having put her phone down to watch him and Haley.

Aaron. Aaron. Why was everyone calling him that? He squeezed his eyes shut. “Seriously, it’s fine. I’ll just grab a jacket from upstairs and then we can head to dinner.”

“Oh come on Hotch, stop being difficult, let Haley touch you,” Derek teased.

Stop being so difficult you little bitch. Stop moving Aaron, or I’ll make it worse for you. Keep your mouth shut or Sean will wake up. Imagine what it would do to him if he saw his older brother crying like a little girl. That’s right. Don’t make a sound, or you’ll be sorry.

“Aaron, you’re shaking,” Haley said, concern colouring her voice.

Shaking like a little terrified child, you’re not a child anymore stop acting like one. You’re a disgrace to this family. You need to learn what happens to disgraces. They get hurt and nobody loves them, nobody ever respects them.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t, I’ll be good, just don’t,” he mumbled, legs giving out as he fell to his knees, bowing his head, leaving his hands on his thighs, away from his back and face.

“Aaron?” Haley whispered as she knelt in front of him.

He shook his head. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t see the rejection in her eyes as she realised he was damaged beyond repair.

“Hotch,” she said, this time more firmly.

He lifted his head just enough to see her mouth, pressed into a thin line as concern was written all over her face. When she realised he was looking at her, she smiled.

“Hey. There’s nothing to be sorry about okay? You haven’t done anything wrong. I promise. You’ve been absolutely perfect.”

“Weak,” he whispered.

“No, you’re so strong Aaron, you always have been. You’ve been strong for a little too long, that’s all. It’s okay though. You can let it go. You’re safe. I promise. Just let me hold you for a few minutes.”

And that was what broke the barrier. Feeling someone touch his back- a mess of scars and bruises- with a gentleness he’d only ever seen, never felt.

He let himself cry, completely forgetting that the rest of his friends- no, his family- were right there.

When the tears finally stopped falling, he realised he felt a lot warmer. At some point, Haley had slipped the hoodie onto him. He felt lighter now he was wearing it. He felt happier, knowing she hadn’t run, hadn’t questioned him, hadn’t had the response he had thought they would all have.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

He jerked back to reality. She was still sat in front of him. The rest of the kids were watching them, the younger ones on the brink of crying. Dave and Emily looked like they were ready to break into his house and kill his dad. James and Alex were watching, the concern in their eyes enough to make him want to cry again. They cared. They loved him.

“No,” he managed to choke out.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. And you never have to hide around any of us anymore,” she said.

Hotch nodded, still feeling a bit like a ghost.

“We’re always going to be here if you want to talk about it,” Alex said softly.

“And if you want to punch something, I’ll join you,” Derek added. Emily and Dave nodded in agreement.

“You can always come home to mine,” JJ suggested. “I told my parents about you, they think you’re really cool.”

“If you ever want a soft toy to cuddle in the night, I have loads!” Penelope exclaimed. Hotch managed to laugh.

Spencer moved off Alex’s lap and walked towards Hotch, his own eyes full of unshed tears. Haley shifted to his side and Spencer threw his arms around the older boy in a tight hug. Hotch realised he was shaking as the tears fell.

“I may be small, but I’m a genius and if he ever hurts you again, I’ll work out a way to make his life a living hell,” he whispered.

Hotch started laughing at that too.

“See. We’re here for you, no matter what demons haunt you,” Haley said.

Everyone nodded.

He smiled. “Thank you. All of you.”

“We’re your friends. You don’t need to say thank you,” Emily said. When everyone stared at her, she flushed and started picking at her nail polish again.

“She’s right you know. They’re your friends.”

He picked up on the fact that she excluded herself. “And what are you?” he asked, wondering why he was asking. She was probably going to say something like acquaintance, and then he would just be sat there like an idiot.

“Are you going to be okay with them? It is a little bit cold- do not give me that look Aaron Hotchner- and I need to grab a hoodie. And don’t even try and give me yours, I want you to wear it, it’s cute on you.”

He blushed. “Thank you, I- yes. I mean yes I’ll be fine with them, not yes like you need a hoodie and you can go, because you don’t need me to tell you what you can and can’t do, like that wasn’t what I was trying-”

She pushed his hair off his forehead, laughing slightly. “I know. But you wanted to know what I am to you right? Maybe this’ll help you work it out.”

And then she kissed his forehead before waving goodbye to everyone and leaving.

Hotch remained sat there, completely shocked.

Penelope squealed and he winced at the sound.

“Get it!” Emily shouted.

His blush became even more prominent. “Shut up.”

“Err, no. Haley kissed Hotchner!” Derek said, laughing.

“Oh my gosh, Haley and Hotchner. You guys could be called Halner! No wait, how about Hotley?”

“Penelope, shut up,” he pleaded, but he smiled as he said it.

She matched his grin. Derek and Emily were high-fiving. Dave looked smug. Alex and James looked so proud. JJ had a small smile, one that showed she was happy for him but was still a little grossed out by the thought of romance. Spencer looked horrified. That made his smile even wider.

Things were far from perfect. And one kiss wasn’t going to solve his issues. But with a group of his friends that loved him, that he could trust with his life and a girl who had done the opposite of running for the hills, he could finally start to heal.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #criminal minds fic #psolc #tw child abuse #sumayyah writes cm

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supermarvelgirl15 · 4 years ago

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Delicate Type of Beauty- Chapter 3: Plumbing Problems

Summary: You have a problem with your plumbing, but luckily Bucky just happens to also be awake at 2 AM.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes × f!oc-insert

Word Count: 1,940

Warnings: A few curses, a couple negative thoughts

A/N: The verb endings are probably all over the place, but oh well. I hope y'all enjoy!

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

××××××

The footage didn’t make any sense. It didn’t necessarily show any indication to where he went, and you couldn’t understand why the footage would be erased in the first place. That was the only thing that made the whole situation stand out.

It just showed Colton waiting in his car until another vehicle approached him. Colt then got out of his car with a backpack on, took whatever the unknown driver handed him, and watched as the driver left. He looked over the item that was in hands and placed it in his pocket before walking out of frame without his car. Even Rhett said that he thought that it was strange.

You, however, weren’t going to let that stop you. With every resource you had, you were going to find out everything that happened in that video and where he went. You needed to know who the driver was and what they gave your brother.

You were sat on the floor in front of your coffee table looking through everything you had already acquired while you were waiting on one of your sources to grant you access to more footage from the security cameras at the docks. You were hoping that maybe you had overlooked something, but it wasn’t looking like it.

With a sigh you grabbed your phone to check the time, groaning when you saw that it was just after two in the morning. It was late, but you weren’t ready to turn in just yet. Standing up, you walked into your kitchen to wash your face off at the sink.

When you turn the sink on though, only a little water was coming out the faucet. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you squatted down to open the cabinets under the sink, cursing when you saw that the pipe had busted and that water started running everywhere.

You immediately ran to go get some towels, another curse slipping out of your mouth when you realized that you only had one. Why was today the day you forgot to pick up your laundry from down stairs?

You rushed back to the kitchen, placing the towel on the floor to try to mop up what you could of the water. It didn’t take long for the towel to get soaked and there was still a lot of water. What the hell were you going to do now?

Bucky just wanted to get at least a few hours of sleep. He would be happy with even as little as two or three hours. Was that too much to ask?

The nightmares- or rather memories- had been bad for the last week. The most sleep he’s gotten lately has been maybe about an hour at a time. A man, especially at his age, needed more rest than that. He was tired, damn it.

Knocking at his door shook him from his thoughts about rest, making him glance over at the clock. Who would be at his door at this time of night? He really didn’t want to deal with some jackass tonight.

He quietly stood up from the floor, slipping on a shirt over his head as he made his way towards the door. Looking through the peephole, he saw you standing outside glancing frantically around you.

Opening the door, he automatically hid his left side behind the door frame. “Kris? Everything okay?” He questioned you, his eyebrow furrowed as he looked you over.

“Um, yeah, did I wake you? I’m so sorry if I did,” you apologize as you wring your hands together in front of you. Some of the guilt is lifted from you as he shook his head, his eyes showing that he was concerned. Now you felt bad for worrying him with something as stupid as this.

You glanced down the hallway, hoping you didn’t wake up any of the other residents. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but you're the only person I know here and I can’t go to the basement now because you know how the landlord is. Is there by any chance that I could borrow some towels?” You rambled to him, cringing slightly about how idiotic you sounded. Why does talking to him make you act like this?

Bucky’s look of concern turned to one of confusion as he looked at you. “I… Uh, sure, hold on,” he tells you before walking away from the door to retrieve them. Seeing that he left the door wide open, you took that as an invitation to step inside.

His apartment looked similar to yours, even though he had less furniture than you. Your eyes caught onto the blankets and pillows on the floor, making you lick your lips nervously. Every time you came back from an operation, you often found yourself sleeping on the floor as well. Sleeping on a bed was significantly different from going to bed in a sleeping bag on the hard ground. Recently, you've been sleeping on the couch to slowly break yourself out of that routine.

Your attention goes back to Bucky when you hear him clear his throat, looking up to see him holding a few towels. “Is this enough?” He asked as you took the towels out of his hands.

He noticed how your eyes immediately went to his bare metal arm before looking back at him with a nod. If he didn’t see that, he would have completely forgot that it was made out of vibranium and not flesh and bone.

“I hope so. I haven’t exactly dealt with a flooded kitchen before,” you quip as you turn to head out his apartment. Bucky raised his eyebrows as he followed behind you.

“What happened to your kitchen?” Bucky questioned curiously as he held the door open for you. He really did find you in the strangest situations.

You stopped once you stepped back into the hallway, turning back to face him. “The pipe beneath my sink busted. I’m gonna spend the rest of my night figuring out how to fix it,” you sighed, internally groaning at the thought.

You watched as Bucky nodded somewhat to himself, as if he was having a silent conversation with himself in his head. You would have never guessed the next words that would leave his mouth.

“Do you need any help?”

★

When you said that your kitchen was flooded, you really did mean it. Bucky was hoping that maybe you were overexaggerating, but there was a lot of water on the floor. If you two didn’t clean it up fast enough, you might get a complaint from the downstairs neighbor.

“You know, I could talk to you in maybe five different languages, but I apparently couldn’t fix a dumb pipe even if I wanted to,” you joke as you mop up most of the water.

Bucky chuckled slightly as he looked over the sink. “Ei bine, ai putea începe prin a opri apa.” Well, you could start by turning the water off.

He turned the faucet off, turning to see you looking at the sink with your mouth hanging open, making him laugh a little. “Chiar sunt prost.” I really am dumb.

Bucky shakes his head, chuckling softly as he squatted down to look at the pipe. “It’s okay, everyone loses their common sense at times. But hey, at least you know Romanian,” he teases you, glancing back over his shoulder.

You narrow your eyes on him, throwing the soaked towel in your hand at him. Bucky yelps, quickly getting the towel off him as he looks up to see your smug look. “This is what I get for helping? I could’ve just left the water on, I’m sure the landlord would love it,” he threatened playfully.

“No, it’s what you get for being an ass,” you shrug, a small smirk creeping onto your lips as you grab another dry towel to hopefully get what’s left of the water. Bucky looks at you while you’re turned away from him, licking his lips before giving his attention back to the pipe.

After looking it over for a few moments, he finally figured out what the problem was. He reached his left hand in the cabinet, tightening the pipe where it had come loose. “All right, I think I got it,” he announced as he stood up to turn the sink on, nodding when no water started leaking out. “It was just loose,” he tells you, turning the water back off before turning to face you.

You throw your towel into the pile with the others, having cleaned the floor the best you could, before walking over to the sink beside Bucky. “You are a saint,” you comment as you look over what he had done.

You are a saint. Those words shouldn’t have affected Bucky like they just did, but how could you call him that. Especially when you know what he's done, what he’s capable of doing.

“I thought I was an ass?” Bucky questioned teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you turn back to pick up the wet towels.

“I’m gonna go put these in my bathroom. Once I wash them, I’ll give you back your towels,” you tell him as you walk back to what Bucky guesses is your bathroom.

Bucky grabs a rag from your sink to dry his hands before stepping into your living room. Files scattered on your coffee table catches his eye, causing him to look back to make sure you haven’t returned yet. He picked up one of them and scanned through it quickly.

So this is why you’re here.

“Thank you so much, Bucky. I’m sure you want to go to bed now,” you said as you walked back into the room. Bucky turns around smoothly, dropping the file back on the table behind him.

He licked his lips as he nodded. “Yeah,” he replied shortly, scratching the back of his neck. He started towards your door, you following right behind him. “Um, good night,” he tells you with one of his tightlipped smiles.

“Night. Thanks again,” you respond with a smile.

Bucky couldn’t help but feel somewhat normal while he was around you. You reminded him of his life back before the war. When it was just him, his family, and Steve against the world. He… liked it.

If you get too close to her, something bad’s gonna happen. It always does, Barnes. Keep her out of it.

Shut up.

“Everything okay, Bucky?”

He looked up to see you already looking at him, your eyes full of concern. He doesn’t understand why, but he’s come to slowly learn that’s how you are. Maybe his therapist is right. Maybe he should make a friend. Especially one like you.

“Uh, yeah... Hey, if you’re up for it, you wanna get some coffee tomorrow? Well, later,” Bucky asked you, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

To say you were surprised was an understatement. You never thought that he would actively want to hang out with you. He always seemed to want to be alone, and given what he’s been through, you don’t blame him.

Then your instincts started kicking in. It was a bad idea. You shouldn’t be around him more than you have to. It was dangerous. He was dangerous. You were even once sent after him with your team. He used to be one of your targets.

But as you watched him wait for your response, how he bit his lip, how he glanced around the hallway somewhat nervously, your instincts didn’t matter. After all, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore, right?

“I’d love to.”

××××××

@bucky-bunnie @learisa @magconfangurl1 @lylthy @rosiahills22 (If you would like to be removed/added please let me know!)

#DToB #marvel #marvel imagines #bucky barnes × reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #winter soldier #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #sebastian stan #kay writes

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fishmongeringstudies · 4 years ago

Text

the year i turned twenty i stopped waiting for someone to save my life and started eating more vegetables

in the winter of 2018 i got a root canal done on the molar in the upper left-hand corner of my mouth. it had been on the verge of death for a while now; two years prior to that a visiting government-sponsored school dentist had taken a look at it, frowned, and then spent the next two hours wheedling all the rot out of that tiny black hole with a drill. unfortunately the solution he imposed was both extremely painful and temporary, and so two years after the initial incident i found myself once again at the dentist's (this time at a clinic; school dentists don't like to deal with the extra-gritty stuff and are not paid enough to do so). they stuck a needle in my gum, numbed three-quarters of my mouth, then drilled a hole through the center of my tooth and ripped the withering shred of nerve-tissue right out of it.

my dentist helpfully explained all of the above to me during our consultation session in the same office in which he would rip the top half of my tooth off a week later. he was a balding, smiling man whose speech did not, unlike many medical professionals i had met over the years, have an edge of condescension to it. i liked him. i would have liked him more were he not planning to essentially castrated my tooth.

several weeks later i went to another dentist who specialized in helping people in post-root canal limbo, and she stuck a shiny metal crown on what was left of my molar. we then scheduled a series of check-ups to ensure that the crown had not flown off its liege while i attacked an ice cube or something similarly bad for my teeth and mental health, which stretched on for so long that she became, more or less, my primary dental care physician. at first the check-ups were a month apart. then two. time passed. her hair grew longer and our conversations less awkward; she was beautiful and snarky and looked like she would shoot god without hesitation if he stepped into range of her gun. she wore her hair short, red tinged with gold, in a pixie-cut that fell over half of one eye. for a while i thought i was in love with her.

'do you floss?' she asked me on my second check-up.

'no,' i said.

'well.' she broke off a length of dental floss and began to wind it around her fingers. it looked like a death threat and she looked ready to kill, though her eyes were smiling. 'you should.'

for the first year after having an utterly destroyed tooth brought back from the brink of death via a grisly temporary solution that would, at best, buy me one or two decades of peace, i didn't. i didn't floss because when she did it for me in her tiny examination room my gums bled so much it took hours for me to wash the bitter taste of iron out of my mouth. blood is a nice concept and a nicer motif in writing. but it smells awful, and it's worst on the tongue. so i didn't floss my teeth, and i went through life with the kind of casual detached disinterest with which i had approached most things up until then. at my next check-up she asked once again if i had been flossing and i lied that i had. after poking and prodding around in my mouth for a few minutes and taking a scan for good measure she gave me a look and said dryly, 'you haven't been flossing at all, have you.'

disappointing your parents, your favorite high school english teacher, or even your best friend is nothing compared to the sheer embarrassment that comes from knowing your beautiful dentist asked you to do the bare minimum, and you failed to deliver. her voice was arid but we had known each other for long enough by then for me to detect a thin undercurrent of disappointment. i had done it. i had lost the support of the only person in my life who could be counted on to support me. because i paid her for her services. and she was also very funny in a quiet sarcastic way. and she was beautiful.

having had my ego wounded beyond description i resolved to floss from then on and succeeded in dragging my poor aching gums past the bleeding stage to a point where they were merely post-workout sore. then i lost interest and forgot about the white, sterile-smelling clinic that was a fifteen minutes' drive from my house and the little pack of dental floss on the bathroom counter faded into obscurity. two weeks before my next appointment in 2020, an alarm on my phone went off to inform me of the approaching day of judgment. i panicked.

'have you been flossing?' my dentist asked as i lay back in the faded green chair and she put on a pair of new gloves.

'yeah,' i said.

five minutes later, she removed her army of dentistry equipment from my mouth with a satisfied hum. 'i see that you have.' her eyes were smiling. 'your teeth look fine. i'll just clean them a little for you.'

i celebrated impressing my favorite dentistry professional in singapore by forgetting to floss for the next two months. soon after that i got on a plane to america, and then two more for good measure in case i hadn't grown sick of sitting and burning in my own skin already, and then twelve weeks of insanity ensued, the details of which we are surely all acquainted with by now. late nights, walks in the forest, afternoons spent in the sun. mismatched footsteps and strange acquaintances. an elaborate circus act staffed entirely by misguided but well-meaning teenagers. a ring of fire.

two weeks ago i bought a box of dental floss for ninety-nine cents. i think this might be what the anthropologists call 'adulthood'. i was at target with a friend and we were getting toothpaste, which we had both nearly run out of, when i saw the little flat box of dental floss hanging from a hook on the wall. my teeth weren't particularly disgusting (they haven't been, not since i learned how to brush them properly), but they weren't beautiful. it had been a while since i had been on my own mind. for the last three months, others' pain had been my main priority, and now that we had eliminated most of them from the picture, i found myself with more time in the mornings to stare at myself in the mirror and wonder how, exactly, i was doing.

how are you doing? i asked. and the answer was i felt like shit.

while i've stayed in dormitories before for extended periods of time i always got out of doing laundry by either submitting my dirty clothes to an on-campus service which disappeared them into a hole in the fabric of reality and returned them to you a day later, cleaned and folded outside your room so the first time i did laundry by myself in america, a week after arriving on campus, i felt invincible. buying an iced chai from the cafe on a thursday morning and then settling down to work on my laptop until my first class started at noon, i felt like a character in a career advisory ad, like someone who knew where they were going and how they were going to get there. standing in front of the bathroom mirror of my summer dorm, winding a strand of dental floss around my fingers, i felt like i had aged fifteen years in the span of just one, and that just this once, it was for the better.

according to my adult friends, no one ever fully feels or recognizes that they are an adult. adulthood is an ideal that all grown children strive towards the way body-builders aim for more and more muscle mass until there's nothing left of them but a pair of well-toned biceps. there are several industry-approved ways to be an adult, but there are no suggested ways to feel like one. this is part of the gaping maw of inadequacy our generation has fallen into. this afternoon i melted butter in a pan and beat two eggs, milk, salt, and garlic powder together in a bowl. pouring the egg mixture into the pan i began to scrape the edges frantically towards the center with a spatula. the whole process took no longer than two or three minutes. by the end of it my hand was shaking.

according to my adult friends you just wake up one day and start looking for ways to re-organize your pantry and that's when you realize: i'm getting old, aren't i? and i'm getting old, aren't i? twenty's just the start of what a friend recently told me her parents refer to as 'the decade of pain'. but the beginning of something is included in the timeline of its accomplishments, too, and it takes more blind faith to start something than we give ourselves credit for. i have never used a saucepan up until today. in my younger years i often boiled broccoli or cauliflower in a small pot over an electric stove. but the butter, the eggs, the smell of fat sizzling on a pan- this is new to me. this entire life is new to me.

leaving the familiar warmth of your family home, it suddenly occurs to you how fragile life is. how everything your mother has done for you until now has kept you on the path forward, and now you have been given the keys to the basement you have to remember to buy laundry detergent before you run out. it all comes together like this: the humming laundry machines, the hand towels, the fridge full of fruit and cheese. it keeps you alive.

and it's awful. our generation doesn't know what self-care is because we're too busy trying to care for a world which tries, time and again, to kick us off the carousel of life and move on without its ephemeral teenage charges. we are bad at this 'living' thing because we often forget that we are alive at all. look out the window and the world's burning. look into the kitchen, and- quiet. this past year has done nothing to improve the paintings on the wall. we've all known hopelessness. we've all known what it's like to wake up and feel nothing at all.

and yet my flatmate has a new york times cooking subscription that she says we're welcome to borrow if we want to look up a recipe for something like paella, brownies, whatever. the other day she made shrimp scampi and when she knocked on my door and said 'i made food, if you'd like some' i remember thinking living with other people was worth it if you could sit around a table and twirl pasta noodles around your fork in silence. tomorrow i think i'll go to target again and see if i can find more acai. i miss it. i miss singapore's overpriced acai places and their stupid too-high chairs.

and i am living life clumsily, but who cares? a life is a life; all you have to do is live it. the rest can come later, after the dust has settled on the windowsill.

06.09.21

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livesincerely · 4 years ago

Text

it’s beginning to look a lot like... ch. 4 (END)

Also on Ao3. Chapter three here.

00000

The Twelfth Christmas

“You’re shaking the table!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes you are, you dirty cheater!”

“You’re just mad ‘cause I’m winning⁠—”

“You wouldn’t be winning if you weren’t shaking the table⁠—”

“Hey, chill the fuck out,” Jack interjects, wandering over to investigate before things can get out of hand. “We’re gonna get another noise complaint.”

“Charlie’s cheating!” Tony insists. “He’s shaking the table!”

“No, I’m not!” Charlie denies. “Tony’s just a sore loser.”

“I’m not a sore loser!”

“Well, you’re definitely not a sore winner!”

“I said, chill out,” Jack says firmly. “Or I’m gonna be the one sweeping the pot.”

“Aw, Jack!” they whine in unison.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jack says. “Choo-Choo, stop shaking the table,” —Charlie ducks his head, pouting⁠— “and Racer, stop stealing from Charlie’s pile when he ain’t lookin’,” —Tony’s eyes go wide⁠— “yeah, Tones, I saw that.”

There’s a few grumbles, but no real arguments.

Satisfied that he’s halted World War Dreidel, at least for now, Jack goes back to the living room and crawls into the Pillow Fort.

“Everything okay?” Davey asks, lifting his arm so that Jack can snuggle back into his side.

“Just another throw down,” Jack says, resting his head against Davey’s chest. “You know how they get.”

“There’s no mercy in dreidel,” Davey says, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Only annihilation and bragging rights.”

Jack laughs softly. “Yeah, I think they’ve really taken that rule to heart, querido. They’re planning total domination and they ain’t afraid to go through each other to get it.”

He takes another moment to get good and comfortable—arms tucked around Davey’s waist, one hand slipping up under Davey’s shirt to sit against the curve of his stomach. Davey throws his legs over Jack’s, his arm a warm weight across Jack’s shoulders, and he tugs a blanket up to cover them.

Davey asks, “Good?”

“Go for it,” Jack murmurs.

Davey unearths the remote from their nest of pillows and hits play; the dvd picks up right where they left it before Jack got up, with Hiccup finding Toothless in the quarry.

They’re watching the movie and not watching the movie. They’ve probably seen it about a hundred times, it’s not like they don’t know what’s gonna happen, so it’s sort of just on for background noise and because it wouldn’t be Christmas without it. Mostly they’re just sitting together, enjoying each others’ company as the last few hours of the day wind down.

It’s been an impossibly hectic holiday season: Davey’s semester didn’t end until the 20th, leaving only a couple of days for frantic Hanukkah shopping and barely more than that for last-minute Christmas shopping. There’s still a handful of nights of Hanukkah left⁠—they’re spending the rest of the week at the Jacobs’ to finish out the holiday, then ringing in the New Year the night after, leaving tonight as the only lull in the madness.

Well, considering the muffled arguing he can still hear coming from the kitchen table, there’s never really a lull in the madness. But lying here, settled in with Davey’s fingers combing through his hair and his heartbeat beneath his ear, the boys happy and whole just a few feet away… Jack can’t imagine anything better.

He shifts slightly, tipping his head up just enough to see⁠: Davey’s looking towards the TV, his expression soft with relaxation and a hint of sleepiness, the fairly lights casting a gentle glow across his features and leaving specks of color dancing in his eyes.

Jack’s heart does a little loop-de-loop around his chest. He never gets tired of looking at Davey. He’s pretty sure he could spend the rest of his life looking at Davey.

“What’re you thinking about so hard, Jackie, love?” Davey asks after a while.

Jack curls around him that much more, his hands sliding up to splay wide over Davey’s ribcage.

“Nothin’,” he says, quietly content. “Still jus’ thinkin’ about tomorrow.”

Davey hums in acknowledgement, his nails scratching lightly at the nape of Jack’s neck. “Mama’s been hinting that she wants us down there as soon as physically possible⁠. She sounded pretty frazzled⁠—I think Les must be driving them all a bit crazy, waiting.”

“What, and she thinks adding us into the mix is gonna grant her some peace?” Jack asks with a snort. “Charlie, Tony, and Les might distract each other for a while, maybe, but there’s no way whatever Les is puttin’ her through now is worse than whatever the three of ‘em together will cook up and unleash. But either way, I’m not goin’ anywhere until we get at least two loads of laundry done because that sucked ass last year, coming home to a shit-ton of dirty sheets and blankets.”

“Yeah, I figured we wouldn’t be getting there until early afternoon-ish,” Davey says. “I told her maybe 2pm or 3? And, at this point I think she’d take the chaos if it meant she could get a few hours in the kitchen, uninterrupted, without Les trying to talk her into a round of dreidel. Apparently he’s taking the tournament very seriously this year.”

“There’s somethin more serious than whatever the fuck went down last year? I didn’t think that was possible,” Jack says. He pauses for a moment, considering. ”Oh, hell, what am I sayin’? This is Les, Charlie, and Tony we’re talkin’ about.”

“Yeah, Mama said the same thing,” Davey agrees. “She specifically mentioned that they’re setting aside a separate table just for dreidel⁠—somewhere safely away from any food or drinks or breakable glassware, presumably.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Jack says. “Though, I’m tellin’ ya now, if anyone ends up with sufganiyot in their hair again, I’m groundin’ both of ‘em ‘til Easter.”

“God, can you even imagine?” Davey says, laughing. “I thought Sarah was gonna murder all three of them.”

“I thought Racer was gonna shatter a window, with how loud he screamed when she started chasin’ him,'' Jack adds. “Then, remember? We found him hidin’ under your old bed?”

“Oh my god,” Davey says, his laughter bubbling up into a full on giggle. “I totally forgot about that!”

Maybe it’s the holiday getting to him. Maybe it’s the bit of eggnog he had earlier or the smell of pine and the hint of candle smoke in the air or maybe it’s just the way that Davey’s looking at him, expression bright and his eyes crinkled up at the corners, but suddenly Jack’s heart feels too big in his chest⁠—like his entire self might burst open.

“What?” Davey asks, still smiling, when he notices Jack staring at him. “What is it?”

“Do you remember when we were at your parents house?” Jack asks. “Not last Hanukkah, but the one before that? When you first started your grad program?”

“What about it?”

“It was, like, a week before Christmas, a coupl’a days into Hanukkah'' Jack starts, thinking back. “I picked you up from campus right after your last test, already had the car packed and the boys bickering in the backseat, and between the snow and the holiday traffic, it took us, like, four hours just to get to your parents house, and I loved every fucking minute of it. ‘Cause you’d moved out, an’ you had classes an’ finals an’ a whole fucking graduate dorm an’ it felt like I hadn’t seen you in weeks, weeks, after four years of livin’ in each other’s back pockets an’ I missed you so fucking much. You weren’t even twenty minutes away but it felt like you were gone⁠, all’a the time—”

Jack’s rambling, he knows he’s rambling, and he’s not sure if he’s even making any sense. But Davey makes no move to interrupt him, listening with that quiet intensity of his, eyes wide and warm.

“⁠—and I’d spent all of fall looking forward to the end of your semester because then I’d have you for a whole month. A whole month, where things could be like they were, like they were s’pposed to be. I’d get to make ya coffee in the morning and hear ya singin’ in the shower and see ya reading on the couch when I got home from work. I was so excited, but I hadn’t realized yet, you know? I didn’t know.”

He pauses for a breath, heart fluttering a little in his chest, then continues.

“But then, that evening at your parents… you never sleep the night before you have a big test, always stay up too late studying and worrying, and sure enough, you were passed out before Jeopardy even came on, absolutely exhausted. I hadta carry ya upstairs later⁠; your Ma had made up your old room for us so I just tucked you in, then slipped into bed beside you. I didn’t think anythin’ of it ‘cause we always share and you didn’t even wake up, just kept on sleepin’. But then, the next morning…”

Jack raises a hand and drags his thumb gently over the ridge of Davey’s forehead.

“You always get a little wrinkle right here, when you ain’t been sleepin’ enough,” he murmurs, rubbing away an imaginary crease between Davey’s brows. “Tension, I guess. It’s how I can always tell that you ain’t been taking care of yourself. But that next morning, I woke up and you’d sort of curled around me in your sleep, half on top of me. My whole fucking arm was numb ‘cause of how you were lying on it but I didn’t dare move ‘cause you looked so comfortable. No wrinkle, no crease, no frown… and I just kept lookin’ atcha an’ lookin’ atcha…”

His hand slides down, cupping around the side of Davey’s face. Jack looks him right in the eyes and says, “And suddenly I thought to myself, ‘Holy shit, I am apocalyptically in love with this man.’”

There’s the tiniest sound of an inhaled breath, Davey’s throat working beneath his palm.

“‘Cause I hadn’t known, ya know? But once I did—once I realized⁠—then I knew. I figured out right then and there that all I wanted was you, that all I’d ever wanted was you, and the boys, and all of us together for as long as I could keep ya. That I’d wanted you since ya brought me that hat and scarf ‘cause you wanted me to be warm, an’ the phone card ‘cause you wanted us to be able to talk, an’ the sketchbook ‘cause you wanted me to have something just for having, and it hurt so bad because it was too late, you’d already moved out, you were pullin’ away, an’ I had a whole month of fucking torture because I had you right where I wanted you but I didn’t actually have you⁠—”

Davey leans that barest bit closer and kisses him, long and slow.

“You’ve always had me,” he promises. “Jackie, you’ve always⁠—”

“But I didn’t know,” Jack says. “And you didn’t know that you had me. But really, the whole time we could’ve been⁠—”

“We were idiots,” Davey agrees, pressing his forehead to Jack’s. “But what else is new?”

“I love you,” Jack says, reaching out to lace their fingers together. “I love you so much, Davey. You don’t even realize how much I love you.”

“Sure I do,” Davey says, his voice a little wet, giving Jack’s hand a squeeze. “It’s about as much as I love you. Now stop it before you make me cry.”

“Love of my life,” Jack says. “‘M so lucky to have you.”

“Jack.”

Jack smiles, lifting their clasped hands up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to Davey’s knuckles.

“Happy Hanukkah, Dave.”

“Merry Christmas, Jackie.”

00000

Tags: @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside, @corbinthecowboy

#newsies #javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs #*the writing desk #*editor's note #*final cut #the domestic au #listen: i decided that more romance could only be a good thing #so here you go #its so sweet it could rot your teeth out #but im not sorry #happy holidays yall #<3<3<3

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suchalonelysunflower · 5 years ago

Text

“Unsteady”

(Ashton Irwin X fem!Reader || Angst)

Summary: Based on the song “Unsteady” by X Ambassadors. You and you husband Ashton, got into an accident. As the months pass, Ashton is starting to lose hope.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Drunk Driving, hospitals, coma, accidents (kinda explicit) panick attack, a lot of crying, swear words, death, blood, violence, overall sadness, bad English (not my first language, my apologies)

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: here I am with another Ashton Angst. Hope you like it 🦋 and remember that reblogs and likes always help and feedback and comments are always welcome! I would love to hear your thoughts 💙 You can check my other works HERE.

”Hold

Hold on

Hold on to me

'Cause I'm a little unsteady

A little unsteady”

‘Her hand is too cold’ Ashton thought ‘She must be very cold’

You were lying in the hospital bed, unfazed. Ashton knew you couldn’t feel anything, at least that’s what the doctors told him. But he couldn’t help but wonder if you were cold. If you could feel your skin becoming more like ice every second but were unable to ask for a blanket.

He would give you the sun if you asked.

But you couldn’t.

Ashton hasn’t heard your voice in over three months, and damn, how he missed it. He misses you, all of you. He often wondered what he’d do if when you open your eyes. Would he cry? Kiss you? Pass out? He didn’t know. All he knew is that he’ll be the happiest man on earth once you did.

But your hands were cold against his. Your body numb in the bed. And he was by your side, unmoving.

The nice nurse came in, he liked her and knew you would too, once you meet her “It’s four already” she said, smiling kindly to Ashton. He nodded and stepped aside to let her work.

He became familiarized with the routines pretty quickly. He memorized the medicines, the sounds of the machines attached to your body, every single technicality. Ashton always hated not to know, so he spent many nights next to you studying everything he could so he’ll be up to date. It became his life mission to make sure you were treated correctly and that you were safe.

“Her hand is cold” he muttered

“Okay, I’ll make sure to bring something warm for her when I come back” the lovely nurse smiled. Ashton breathed a small ‘thank you’ as she left, taking his usual spot in the chair next to your bed, holding your hand.

“You will love her” he said to you. He read that talking to you could be helpful, since you could probably hear him “She’s very nice to us, to you. And she has that ‘loving granny’ energy you talk about. I don’t know if she’s a grandma, though. She’s probably around 52… you would know better. You always do”

His eyes landed on your face, you look beautiful as always, but you didn’t move a muscle. Ashton squeezes your hand, waiting for a reaction of any kind, but getting nothing as a result. He felt the tears coming back, they haven't left since that night, and his voice broke as he tried to hold them.

“Baby, please come back” he pleaded “I - I know you’re trying to fight when you feel like flying. I know you’re there, Y/N. Please, hold on to me. Come back to me” breaking down as he couldn’t contain the tears any longer, he whispered ”I - I miss you”

“Ashton, you can’t be serious” You said giggling.

You were coming back home after a concert. The last concert of tour and you were ready to have your husband all by yourself again. You looked at Ashton as his smile spreaded through his face, making all of his dimples pop out and your heart flutter. His hands were on the wheel, but his eyes kept drifting from you to the road.

“I mean it!” He said with a laugh “Don’t tell me you didn’t think the same thing when you saw them!”

“I did, I’m not gonna lie” you admitted “But do you think we are ready? I mean, a kid is a lot more responsibility than some plants in the garden”

It was not the first time the ‘baby conversation’ popped out. But it was always dismissed, stating that neither of you were ready for that yet. Tonight, however, one of Michael’s friends brought her baby backstage and your mommy instincts kicked in. You were pulled towards that baby like a magnet, impossible to deny how cute they were, specially in a little 5SOS hoodie customized to their size. Ashton saw from a distance how good you were with that little baby that he felt the need to have one of your own. Falling in love with the thought of you being a wonderful mother to your child.

“I know that, but think about it, love. The tour’s over, the boys and I already decided to take a little break before starting to work on a new album, we all want to dedicate some time to our families, so I’ll be around for anything you need. Not to mention that we are financially stable and completely in love” Ashton grabbed you hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently “Plus, think how beautiful you’ll look with a baby bump”

“Yeah, all bloated and irritable”

“Still beautiful” He fixed his eyes on you, still smiling “Look, if you’re not ready then we can wait but -“

“Let’s do it.”

“What?”

“I said, let’s do it. Let’s try for a baby”

Ashton’s eyes gleamed under the night sky as he looked at you with adoration. You were both smiling like fools. It was decided then, you were going to have a baby! You were so immerse with happiness at that moment,, maybe that’s why you didn’t see the car heading towards you.

“You should go home for a bit, mate” Michael said as he placed his hand on Ashton’s shoulder. He didn’t move.

It was visiting hours, Michael, Luke, Calum and their girls came today. They always do. Making Ashton company as he patiently waits for you next to your bed.

“I’m fine”

He really wasn’t. His hair was a mess, he had dark circles under his eyes and he can’t even remember the last time he ate a proper meal or took a real shower. But he didn’t care. All of his attention was on you, all of his hopes, his prayers, his pleads, all came back to you and the chance that you’ll open your eyes.

“You’re not fine, Ashton,” Michael pleaded again, but got no response from him “Look at me” He squeezed Ashton’s shoulder, turning Ashton around to look him in the eyes. The same hazel eyes that a few months ago were filled with love and spark, that now were empty and sad “You need to go home”

“But-“

“Go home, Ash. If not for you then do it for Y/N”

Ashton was taken aback. Michael never spoke with such authority as he did at that moment. He knew he was right but still he couldn’t leave you.

“Mike and I will stay with her” Luke said “Visitors hours don’t end until two hours from now. That’s enough time for you to grab some things from home”

“And for goodness sake, take a shower” Cal intervened.

“We’ll be here and we’ll call you if anything happens. But you can’t take care of her if you don’t take care of yourself, you were hurt too”

Ashton felt like he was being cornered by his three best friends. They were right, of course they were. But this was harder that it seemed and he didn’t know if he was ready to face it.

“I- I can’t” he mumbled looking down, feeling three pairs of eyes on him “I can’t go home without Y/N,, I don’t think I’ll be able to take it”

A pitiful look was exchanged between the three men. All of them hurting for him, for you.

“I’ll go with you, mate. You don’t have to go alone” Calum said, extending his hand to his best friend, helping him getting up.

When they reached the parking lot, Ashton tossed his keys to Calum, not saying a word. He was not ready to sit behind the wheel again. So Calum drove them through the familiar streets of LA, back to an empty house that was once filled with songs.

Ashton held his breath when he opened the door and stepped in. It was all too familiar but at the same time so strange. Everything was like the way you left it, the news paper on the kitchen table, next to the glass of wine you didn’t get to finish. The pair of shoes you decided to change at the last minute were still by the door and your perfume invaded the house as a ghost. Every inch of this house had your presence in it, but you were nowhere to be found.

Calum placed his hand on Ashton’s shoulder, something they all seem to be doing a lot lately, as he took in the empty house “Take all the time that you need” and he did.

Ashton walked through the deserted halls, stopping in front of his and your room. He placed his hand on the doorknob but didn’t have the heart to open it, knowing you won’t be there waiting for him like each night. He felt the tears coming up again and his breathing was uneven. It took all of him to step away from the door and head towards the guest room. At least he knows it won’t smell like you.

After a much needed shower, he went to the basement. The basket filled with laundry was still there, you told him you lost track of time and forgot to put it back up. He was glad you didn’t. Ashton grabbed a few shirts and jeans and put them in a bag, he also put a few of your clothes in there, thinking you’d feel more comfortable once you wake up. He couldn’t ignore the pain of smelling your perfume so close to him after so long. He didn’t want to.

He was about to head out when he walked by his music room. The door was open, so he was able to catch a glimpse of a few books you recommended him, but that he never had the chance to read. Maybe he could read them to you, he thought.

Stepping into the room he found thousands of papers scattered around the coffee table. Bunch of scratches and unfinished songs he was ready to show you.

It wasn’t a secret that you were Ashton’s muse. Every song he wrote was inspired by you in every possible way. And you were his number one fan, always encouraged him to do what he loves and to do better by himself. Always taking care, not only of him, but of everyone else. No kindness in the world could compare to yours, no love in the world could compare to yours and now…

Where were you? Why? How could this happen? Why you?

A million questions ran through Ashton’s head, making his senses go black as he ripped apart every piece of paper he could find. Not really paying attention to the damage he was causing as he threw everything in his way. Glasses, picture frames, drumsticks, the drums themselves… all for what? What did it matter? How could anything matter if you were not there?

Calum heard the thundering sounds and cries of his best friend and ran to him. But, to his eyes, it was almost impossible to describe the broken scene that played before him.

Ashton was crying out of rage, sadness, hopelessness and some relief. Letting it all out as he trashed the music room that was once a comfort for him. The tears were mixed with his sweat, grunting and panting as he destroyed every piece of himself in that room.

“Ash!” Yelled Calum as he stepped into the chaos, trying to reach his friend “Ash-Ashton!” He managed to dodge a few pieces of glass and plastic from the broken drum kit.

He reached him mid rage, grabbing his fisted hands with all the strength he could use “Ashton fucking stop! You need to stop!”

Ashton froze as he opened his eyes and found Calum staring at him in fear. Trembling and falling to this knees, he found himself unable to stand on his feet. Tears streaming down freely.

“She’s gone” he sobbed. Completely broken.

Calum let his guard down, softly saying “She’s not gone, Ash. She’s not gone” He grabbed the tall man and pulled him into a hug. Ashton didn’t put on a fight as he let himself be comforted by his friend “She’s going to be fine. You hear me? She’ll be okay”

“We were supposed to start a new chapter together. We- we were going to start a family and… it all happened so fast, Cal”

He cried even harder “Cal, I don’t remember if it was my fault”

“You were hit by a drunk driver, none of this is your fault”

“I should’ve paid more attention! It should’ve been me! I should be the one in the fucking hospital bed”

It was all too much. It all hurt too much. It’s just,, it wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this, being connected to a machine, fighting to stay alive when he was the one driving the car. Three months without opening your eyes, without hearing your laughter, or your off key singing. He would do anything just to feel your arms around him one more time, to hear your voice saying that everything was going to be okay. He needed you. He needed you desperately. How could he live without you when you were all he knew? How could he sing about love when you’re not here to hear it?

“This house doesn’t feel like a home without her” He sobbed “I- I don’t know what I’ll do, I can't lose her”

“You won’t” Said Calum, fighting his own tears when the image of you fighting for your life came to mind. But he knew he had to stay positive, for Ashton, for everyone “We won’t lose Y/N, she will wake up”

“Cal, I -“ whispered Ashton in a broken voice “I don’t think she will”

“Y/N?!”

Darkness. Everything was dark and everything hurts. Where was he? Why,, why couldn’t he move?

It took him a second to figure out that you were upside down, still inside of the car. He called your name one more time, but there was no answer. His eyes needed to adjust, he needed to find you. But then..

“A-ash?”

Your voice was weak. Barely even a whisper filled with pain.

“Y/N?!” Ashton called, his hand immediately trying to get to yours. He didn’t care about the broken pieces of glass and concrete that cut through his skin, he just needed to hold your hand “It’s okay, you’re okay”

“Ash” you cried in pain. Squeezing his hand, trying to hold onto something real “I can’t move. Everything hurts”

“Don’t move, Love. Don’t move until they come for us, okay? They’re going to help you. You’ll be okay”

Ashton tried to remain calm for you, soothing your cries by running circles in your hand. “Just hold onto me, baby. Hold my hand. We’re gonna get through this, okay? We are going to be fine”

You could only cry in response. Every ounce of pain hitting you from different parts. It was almost intolerable, but Ashton tried his best to comfort you and you got lost in the sound of his voice, starting to drift away.

“Don’t let go, Y/N. Baby. Don’t let go of my hand, okay? I need you here with me, you understand me?”

“Ashton, I’m tired”

“No, no no no, baby stay with me. Tell me, what names do you like?”

“N-names?”

“Yes, Love. For the baby”

“The baby…”

Ashton was crying, but he wouldn’t let you see it. He squeezed your hand.

“Yes, yes the baby” He could hear your breathing slowing down “You can’t go to sleep, love. Baby, hold on”

He could hear the sirens coming closer, they were going to be okay.

“W-what about Alex? Do you like that one?” You could only hum in response “Stay with me, Y/N. What about Rose? You told me you liked that name, remember?”

The lights of the ambulance shined in the pavement. They were here. Help was here.

“Rose…” you said faintly

“Yes, yes baby. We are going to have such a beautiful family” Ashton cried as he felt your hand gave in “And you’re going to be an excellent mother.”

“You’ll be an excellent father”

“Y/N?”

“I’m so tired, Ash. Everything hurts” you cried.

“Baby no, don’t leave me. Just hold onto me, keep holding onto me”

He was panicking now, feeling you fade away.

“I love you” you said.

“Y/N?! No, baby c’mon. Hold on, please. If you love me don’t let go. Don’t leave me here”

Ashton didn’t feel when the door of his car opened next to him. He didn’t feel when they pulled him out of the car and into a stretcher. He just wanted to know that you were okay.

“Y/N?!” He screamed at the paramedics, trying to find you among the crowd that has gathered around the wreck “Where’s my wife?! Y/N!”

All he could hear was “She’s losing a lot of blood!” “We need to take her now” “I don’t feel a heartbeat, we’re losing her” as he saw your figured being pulled away in another ambulance, away from him.

He yelled, screamed, cried and kicked, trying to get to you somehow. He needed to be with you. He needed to know that you were still with him. That you were okay.

He didn’t feel when they injected him with a sedative.

From that moment on, everyday was the same. Everyday hoping that it might be different.

After the wreckage of your home, Ashton came back to the hospital to find you still asleep on the bed. He thanked the boys and said goodbye, promising them that he’ll be fine.

“I went home today” he said as he sat down on his usual spot, cupping your hand in his, letting your wedding bands touch “everything is where you left it. I - I didn’t dare to put everything back, I know how mad you can get when I move your stuff” Ashton let out a sad laugh, holding your hand even tighter “I’m sorry if my hands are a bit rough, I.. well let’s say you wouldn’t want to come into my music room for quite some time. I’m sorry”

Ashton looked at you. The bruises and cuts from the accident were almost fully healed. Your hair was longer, but it wasn’t as soft as it used to be. Your eyelashes rested peacefully over your cheeks, it was almost like if you were dreaming.

“I wish you could tell me how stupid I am. Believe it or not, I miss your nagging” he sighed “I miss everything. I miss you”

The machine that was connected to your heartbeat played its usual melody, filling the gaps that were created by your silence.

“I can’t help but think that this is all my fault. Everyone tells me it’s not, that I wasn’t the one driving drunk on the streets of LA. But then I look at you and, fuck Y/N, I don’t even know if you’re in pain and it kills me. If I could trade your life for mine I would, darling, in a heartbeat.”

‘“ I should’ve paid more attention to the road. I should’ve moved out of the way or.. I should’ve done something to avoid this” silent tears rolled down his cheek, he didn’t even attempt to wipe them away “We had so much ahead of us… we were going to start a family and I.. I can’t help but think that I took that away from you, from us”

‘“ I need you here, Y/N. I need you here by my side. I can’t live without you, I don’t want to live without you, baby. You are my everything, my Y/N, my love. Without you I’m unsteady, you’re my rock, my ending and beginning, my North Star.. Y/N you’re my home. And I know it sounds selfish but I’m not ready to give you away. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. Please don’t leave me, don’t let go. Come back, baby. I need you”

He cried through every word, every confession. He cried for everything they had and all that they could have if she wakes up. He cried so hard he didn’t notice when her Heart Rate went up all of the sudden.

“Y/N? Baby don’t. No no no no don’t let go” The beeps were faster, violent, shaking up Ashton from sorrow. Having him screaming at the top of his lungs for a doctor.

It all happened so fast. A sea of white coats surrounding the room and pushing Ashton out of the way and into the hall. He tried to step in again, but a nurse cut his way.

“I’m sorry, sir. You can’t go in there” he said, sternly.

“B-but that’s my wife.. That’s my wife!”

“Sir, I will need you to stay calm and stay here while the doctors work. Okay?” He went into the room, opening the door just enough for Ashton to see two paddlers hit your chest.

Ashton punched the walls out of frustration, almost breaking his hand and making it bleed. He rested his head on the furthest wall and slowly fell to the ground, sobbing his heart out.

He stayed like that for a long time before the doctors and nurses stepped out of the room, all of them ignoring him as he stayed on the floor. It wasn’t until Y/N’s head doctor appeared that he got up.

His eyes and face were puffy red, his hand was bruised and swollen. But he couldn’t seem to find a care. Not now. Not when his Y/N was all alone. Not when there’s a chance that she’s not there anymore.

“Mr. Irwin” said the doctor in a low voice that made Ashton’s world fade to grey, swallowing the lump he had in his throat “Mrs. Irwin went into cardiac arrest. It seemed like all of this got the best of her. Her vitals were…”

But Ashton couldn’t hear her anymore. In his mind everything was pure bullshit. All of this speach saying how sorry they were and that you’re in a better place, bullshit. You were gone. You were really gone. The universe could fall apart right there and there and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash. His universe died with you.

His eyes were an empty void. He could see the mouth of the doctor still moving. But all he could think was you. You and your perfect smile, the way your eyes shined every time you talked about something that you were passionate about. The way you looked in your wedding day and how nothing could even come close to the feeling of happiness when you said your ’I do’s’ How you would dance on each and every concert, cheer him up from the side of the stage, waiting to be kissed once it was over. And now you were gone.

He would never hear you laugh or say I love you again. He would never see you walk around the house in one of his shirts, trying to call his attention. He would never feel you close in the mornings, cuddling until you eventually had to let go. You were gone. And he wasn’t ready for that. He will never be ready for a life that doesn’t have you in it.

“... So would you like to see her?” The doctor said. Calling Ashton back to the real world.

“I’m sorry, what?” His shock was palpable. Voice sounding broken and weak as he was. Lips trembling as he held his breath, afraid that he misheard her.

“She’s stable, at the moment. She asked for you. She mentioned something about a rose....”

You were okay? You were awake?!

Ashton burst into the room without a second thought. Tears falling as he saw you looking at him from the hospital bed, smiling weakly. He stood there for a second, whispering as he thought it might be a dream.

“Y/N?”

“Ashton....”

”If you love me, don't let go

If you love me, don't let go”

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yootaesowlwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Scenario Prompts - [1]

Prompts are below the cut from what you can choose from for when my requests are open.

Please make sure to add ‘C’ along with the number of your choice when requesting.

More prompts

[ one ]

Credit to the people that created these prompts, I found them on pinterest and on tumblr.

C1— we just had a one-night stand but a massive storm hit so now we’re snowed in, hello awkward

C2— you were supposed to have a beautiful winter wedding but you were ditched during the vows and my idiot sibling/best friend just cracked a joke about how maybe I’d finally tell you how I feel about you and you heard

C3— someone assumed we’re dating but I didn’t realize that’s what they meant until it was too late and I had committed us to a couples’ retreat weekend

C4— you jokingly propose to me at the bar but it ends up all over social media so now I have to track you down because I don’t even know your name

C5— you were a dick to my coworker so I’ve been writing insults on your cups and why the hell do you keep coming back here anyway

C6— you’re my ex who I’ve never really gotten over and you just surprised me by paying for my coffee and I’m not prepared to see you

C7— my coworker wrote my cell phone number on your cup when I wasn’t paying attention and now you’re texting me

C8— I’ve been getting really creative with my foam art and I do some naughty-bits to amuse my coworker on their drink when you mistakenly take it and think I’m hitting on you

C9— you join me at my table thinking I’m your blind date and you don’t stop talking about how nervous you are for this date so I don’t get a chance to tell you that you have the wrong person when your actual date comes up and thinks you were hitting on me while waiting for them

C10— when people hit on me and ask for my number, I usually make up a number to put on their cups, and today I just happened to write your number on your cup so you call me out

C11— I’m sorry for laughing at you walking into the glass door/window, please let me help you up

C12— I know your sign says ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ but can I please give you a really long explanation as to what has led to me desperately needing coffee without a shirt or shoes

C13— you dropped to your knee to tie your shoe but suddenly, people are congratulating us on getting engaged and we just scored free coffee so we roll with it

C14— I ask you to come look at houses with me and the real estate agent just gave a very convincing speech as to why this backyard would be a great place for a wedding

C15— I like to go skinny dipping by myself at 5 am when the sun starts to rise and you’ve started to go running at that time

C16— it’s almost 3 am so I go down to the lake to skinny dip and you decide to join me but you don’t realize I’m naked

C17— everyone assumed we were going to end up together, but it’s your engagement party and you overhear me talking about how I’m in love with you

C18— we agree that this is until one of us meets someone else but I think you just met someone else and I’m freaking out

C19— my drunk friend announces in the bar that I’m in love with you, but we didn’t know you were here with your friends too

C20— my email address is really close to the popular person’s, so you think you’re emailing them and I think I have a secret admirer and when the truth comes out, we’re both in too deep

C21— six months ago we slept together and I never expected to find you outside my front door in tears asking if you could stay the night because you have nowhere else to go

C22— I’m assigned to write a piece rounding up all the bad press that you, a famous celebrity, have been getting and you show up in my office and demand me to write a retraction and get the ‘real’ story

C23— I’m at the 24/7 gym at 2 in the morning and I thought I was alone so I’m singing in the showers, but when you start singing with me, I’m startled and slip so the first time we meet, we’re both wet and naked

C24— my twin clearly did something to piss you off, but you obviously don’t know I’m a twin so I’m listening to you tell me how much of an asshole I am and am very amused and it’s making you angrier

C25— you’re a celebrity/prince/princess/etc. who has decided to don a fake persona to go to school undercover and I figure it out within the first month of class but I keep your secret until the whole thing blows up in your face and you need help hiding from the paparazzi

C26— I like to go skinny dipping by myself at 5 am when the sun starts to rise and you’ve started to go running at that time

C27— it’s almost 3 am so I go down to the lake to skinny dip and you decide to join me but you don’t realize I’m naked

C28— after a huge fight, we fall out of touch, but it’s our high school reunion and I don’t want to lose you again

C29— you overhear me talking to our mutual friend about how I’m scared that you won’t feel the same way about me

C30— I strip because I enjoy it and it’s good money, but I didn’t expect to be hired for your friend’s bachelor party.

C31— we fall asleep on the couch watching Netflix together and when I wake up, our fingers are intertwined

C32— you misdial at a telephone booth and ask in a very upset voice if I can pick you up, and I don’t know why, but I ask where you are so I can pick you up

C33— six months ago we slept together and I never expected to find you outside my front door in tears asking if you could stay the night because you have nowhere else to go

C34— I ducked into this tiny bakery to get out of the rain, but oh my goodness, it smells so good here that I might just have to stop for a bit and try just one cookie…

C35— I have been having the crappiest week ever, but you surprised me with a bubble bath and comfort food and I cannot even right now. What did I do to deserve you?

C36— Character A comes home from work one day to find Character B on the couch, wrapped up in blankets and wearing one of Character A’s favourite sweatshirts. There’s a box of tissues next to them and Character B looks absolutely feverish and awful

C37— I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at 3 am in the morning and when I asked you what the hell you were doing you slurred something about dogs being great and then you threw up on my feet and then fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that’s why your here right now also what the fuck is your name and why were you patting a dog in a stranger’s backyard in the middle of the night.

C38— You live in the apartment above me and your water pipe burst and is flooding into my apartment and you can hear me yelling so you come down to my apartment to see what’s going on and witness me standing in my kitchen/bathroom/whatever, holding an umbrella, screaming at the water pouring out of my ceiling and crying because I have no idea what to do and we both just kinda stand there in shock as my stuff gets ruined and you let me crash in your apartment until my apartment gets fixed because you feel bad.

C39— I’ve been in love with you since you first moved in and I finally built up the courage to knock on your door but when you answered you had just woken up and didn’t have a shirt on so I ran away

C40— I locked myself out of my apartment so I have to climb out your window and onto my balcony

C41— You’re drunk and walked into the wrong apartment and fell asleep on my couch oh god you’re going to be so confused in the morning

C42— Your laundry got mixed up with mine somehow and now we’re sitting in silence sorting underwear

C43— I walked in on your ex yelling at you so you grabbed me and kissed me so she’d go away and I’m kind of freaked out I literally just met you last week

C44— Ice breaks underneath Character A’s feet and Character B sees when they’re walking past the lake and saves them.

C45— You walked here in a blizzard to get your hot chocolate but you forgot your wallet at home, here, let me buy your drink for you.

C46— Mistaking Character A for someone else, Character B runs up to them and hugs them out of nowhere… or worse, punches them

#prompts #prompts list #athenathesharkwrites

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440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

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Baking Day

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

You rolled over and looked at your alarm clock to see that it was 7:47 am. You had a lot to do that day, and you wanted to get an early start. First order of business was a shower, then fix breakfast for you and the boys. After that, it was time to start baking treats to stock up in the freezer for winter.

Once you'd had your shower, you started your preparations for breakfast. You pulled out the skillet for frying bacon, then cracked some eggs into a bowl and whisked them together. You chopped some onions and diced some ham to add to the eggs. As the bacon started to turn crispy, you bustled about the kitchen making coffee and setting up the toaster.

Sam wandered into the kitchen and flipped the bacon over in the pan. "Oh, thank you, Sam. I was just coming back to do that," you mentioned.

"No problem, I've got it. You're up awfully early this morning," Sam remarked with a sidelong glance.

"Have a lot to do today. It's time to get started on the winter baking to stock up the freezer," you explained.

"Ooh, really? What are you making?" he asked with great interest.

"Some cookies, breads and of course, pie," you replied.

"Did someone say 'pie'?" asked Dean, who walked in more alert than usual.

You chuckled as you removed the last of the bacon from the pan and started cooking the eggs with the ham and onions in it. "Yes, Dean, there will be pie," you confirmed. "Some for the freezer, but I'll keep one out fresh just for you," you teased, tweaking his nose.

"Aw, you're too good to me sweetheart," he remarked.

"Hope you remember that the next time I ask to borrow the Impala," you replied with a grin over your shoulder. Then you returned your attention to finishing the eggs. You reached into the fridge for the cheese and mixed some in. Once it had melted, you transferred the eggs to a serving bowl and placed it on the table.

By this time, Jack had joined Sam and Dean at the table. "Wow, this looks great!" Jack exclaimed. "I was just going to have cereal, but this looks much better!" he gushed.

"Thank you, Jack. Eat up boys, but please don't take too long. I have a lot of baking to do today," you mentioned.

Jack turned to you after filling his plate with eggs, bacon and toast. "Can we help?" he asked enthusiastically.

You preferred to have the kitchen to yourself on a day like this, but you didn't have the heart to say no to Jack. "O-okay, does anyone else want to help?"

"I would, but Dean and I have a hunt to prepare for. It looks like a pretty simple salt-and-burn, but I still need to research," Sam explained.

"Well, Cas isn't here at the moment, so looks like it's just you and me today, Jack," you said brightly. "We'll clean up from breakfast, then get started, okay?" you asked.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jack's blue eyes lit up with excitement at the chance to help you. While the boys are out hunting, you saw it as your job to take care of everyone in the bunker, especially him. You make sure the boys all have clean clothes, that injuries are patched up and you certainly keep them all well-fed. Almost like their mother, you thought with a smile. You get after Dean when he drinks more beer than water. You nudge Sam to go off to bed when he falls asleep researching in the library late at night. You're always available for Cas whenever he has questions about human customs or pop culture references.

And you've always been there for Jack whenever he has a nightmare, which you noticed has been happening a lot lately. He usually doesn't realize you're there, though, until you bring him out of it. You place a cold washcloth on his forehead and take his hand gently in yours as he slowly but surely wakes up.

As soon as Jack opens his eyes, he sort of collapses into your arms, burying his head in your shoulder. You rock him back and forth, rubbing his back and whispering soothing words in his ear. Once he calms down again, you gently lay him on his bed. His eyes usually close again as soon as his head hits the pillow. You brush the hair from his forehead, kiss his temple and slip out the door back to your room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

With Jack's assistance, you cleaned up the dishes from breakfast. Next, you pulled your mixing bowls out of the cupboards. "Okay, Jack, let's get started! First, we'll make the pumpkin and banana breads. Which one would you like to make?" you asked.

He thought for a minute, and decided he would make the banana bread. You gave him a mixing bowl and one of the box mixes. He followed you step by step, adding the eggs and other ingredients. Together, you poured the batter into the respective loaf pans, slid them into the oven and set the timer.

You smiled at Jack, who beamed at you in return. He was happy to be included in something he considered to be so important, and to be spending time with you. "Next item on the list, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies!" you declared. You took out your largest mixing bowl and added the butter, sugar and other ingredients. As you called them out, Jack made it his mission to find each ingredient in the cupboard or the fridge and bring it to you.

When it came time to add the chocolate chips, you told Jack to hold out his hands. You opened the bag, then poured some in his hands. You poured some into your hand and just before popping them in your mouth, you winked and grinned at Jack. He followed your example and groaned in appreciation as the chocolate melted in his mouth.

By the time you had finished making the cookie batter, the pumpkin and banana breads were finished baking. You turned to pull them out of the oven, but Jack already had one of the loaf pans in his bare hands. "Oh my goodness, Jack! Put that down on the counter right now, you'll burn your fingers!" He did as he was told and you frantically grabbed his hands to check for injuries. You didn't care if the rest of the bread loaves burned. You were more concerned with seeing if Jack was hurt.

You pulled him over to the sink and started a stream of cold water. You held his hands under the cold water, hoping blisters wouldn't form on his fingers. After a few minutes, you pulled his hands out from under the water to inspect them. You were relieved to see that there were no blisters from what would normally have been a second or third degree burn. You turned off the faucet and leaned back against the sink, trying to collect your thoughts.

Jack nudged your arm then laid a hand on your shoulder. "A-Are you all right?" he asked.

"I should be asking you that, Jack. I am so sorry, I should've told you about using the oven mitts to take things out of the oven," you explained. You walked over to where the mitts were hanging on the wall and pulled them on. You removed the remaining loaves of bread, set them on the counter and closed the oven.

"Jack, I apologize. You really could have gotten hurt, even though I know you can heal your own injuries. A mom is supposed to give you proper instructions on what do when the oven timer goes off," you muttered. "I-I mean, a mom-type person," you quickly corrected.

"But I am not injured. I was able to heal myself, so everything's okay," he said as he showed me both hands.

"Yes, I know, Jack, but you can't always count on that. From now on, let's be careful, okay? Please?" you implored.

He thought for a few seconds, then smiled at you. "Okay, I promise," he grinned and gave you a hug.

"All righty, Jack. Let's get back to work. Carefully, though," you cautioned as you returned his embrace.

The rest of the baking was completed without further injury to either you or Jack. True to your word, you left one apple pie out on the counter for Dean to sample when he and Sam got back. The freezer was now stocked with pumpkin and banana breads, as well as apple, cherry and peach pies. There were also dozens of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies to have with hot cocoa on cold winter nights.

You had just closed the freezer with all of the newly-baked goodies when you heard a whoosh of wings, signaling the arrival of Castiel. "Good evening, Cas," you said with a weary smile. Just his mere presence made your heart happy. You hoped that it wasn't too obvious that you had a crush on your angel friend. You were pretty sure that Sam and Dean didn't know, otherwise, you'd never hear the end of it. That, and you doubted that Cas felt for you anything remotely like you felt for him.

When you first met Castiel, you were mesmerized by the intensity of his ocean-blue eyes. They seemed to peer straight into your soul, as if trying to see all of your secrets. You admired how he would always strive to do what was right, even when it was difficult. He was kind, loyal and his innocence regarding certain topics was endearing to you. You loved the sound of his voice, deep and gravelly, which made his thoughts on any subject something worth listening to.

"Good evening to you. I see you have been busy today, judging by all of the dirty dishes in the sink and the well-stocked freezer," he remarked.

"Well, Jack and I were pretty busy today, making breads, pies and cookies. It was nice to have his help in the kitchen," you answered. "I had hoped that maybe you could have joined us. Oh, but I'm sure you were busy with other, more important matters," you added hastily.

Sensing your mood, Cas asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I guess," you started as your gaze dropped to the floor. "Well....I thought that Jack got hurt earlier by taking a something out of the oven with his bare hands. He didn't know about using oven mitts, and I forgot to tell him. He's fine and everything, no injuries, but....if he was a full human....Cas, he would really have been hurt, and it would've been my fault," you finished quietly.

As you walked towards Jack's bedroom, Cas was close behind you, talking about how he spent his day. Sam and Dean had already left their dirty clothes in the laundry room for you, but you didn't yet have any of Jack's clothes. You knocked on Jack's door and asked for his dirty laundry, which you then took to be washed.

While you sorted the clothes, you were humming a song that was your mom's favorite. "Can I help you with anything?" Cas asked. "It's getting late, and you look like you need some rest," he pointed out.

You laid a hand on his trench-coated arm and smiled. "Oh, I'm fine, Cas. After I start this laundry, I'll tidy up in the library on my way to the kitchen. Then I can tackle those dishes Jack and I used. Once I get all of that done, only then will I feel like I can relax. Is there something I can get for you? Glass of water, cup of tea, beer, anything?" you asked.

Cas put one hand on your shoulder and one on your cheek as he peered into your hazel eyes. "Take a deep breath. Don't worry about me, if I need something, I know where to find it," he said as he winked at you.

You chuckled as you started the laundry, then as planned, you moved on to tidy up the library, humming to yourself. Jack opened his door to find Castiel staring after you, shaking his head and grinning at seeing your sudden burst of energy. "Castiel! When did you get here?" Jack asked.

Cas explained that he had just arrived, and that the two of you had a nice conversation. "How was your day, Jack?" he asked.

"It was great, I got to help in the kitchen today! We made pumpkin and banana breads, cookies, even pie," Jack beamed with pride.

"That's what I heard. I'm glad you had a good time. You have a wonderful teacher, by the way. She comes from a long line of expert bakers," Cas remarked.

"I know, she was very patient with me. Only, I scared her when I took stuff out of the oven," he dropped his gaze. "She thought I got hurt, and got upset. She blamed herself for not telling me about using the oven mitts," he said quietly. "But I tried to tell her that it wasn't her fault, and I didn't get hurt," he quickly added.

"You must remember to be careful, Jack. You may not always be able to heal yourself, you know," Cas remarked. "She is very fond of you, Jack, and considers you as part of her family. She doesn't want to see anyone get hurt, especially those she loves," he explains.

"She's so wonderful, Cas. She takes such good care of everything and everyone in this bunker--Sam, Dean, me and even you sometimes. She's sweet and kind, and....sometimes I forget that she's not my mother. I-I know I never met my mother in person, but I saw the video she left me," Jack explained. "Do you think she and my mother would have been friends?" he asked.

"Your mother was an extraordinary woman. She was courageous and nothing was more important to her than you and your happiness," Cas replied. "I'm certain they would have been friends. And I'm sure that your mother would be happy to know that you are so well-protected and loved here," he smiled.

"I think so too," Jack remarked. Then he asked Cas where you were, because he wanted to tell you how much fun he had today.

"I believe she said that she was going to tidy things up in the library, then head to the kitchen to take care of the dishes," Cas frowned. "However, I wish she would just relax instead of trying to do everything by herself," he grumbled.

Jack and Cas walked towards the kitchen, where the lights were off. Jack turned them on and saw that all of the dishes had been washed and were set out to dry overnight. "Where is she?" he wondered.

They retraced their steps from the kitchen. Then Castiel noticed you curled up in a corner of the couch, fast asleep. Both of them smiled at your sleeping form, because you still had a dish-drying towel slung over your shoulder. Cas told Jack he would watch over you while you slept, so Jack went off to bed. Before he did, though, he leaned over and kissed your forehead. Jack then smiled at Castiel, then returned to his room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Castiel removed his trench coat and suit jacket and reached for your favorite blanket. He draped it around you, then sat next to you on the couch. He tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, and took a moment to study you as you slept. He noticed the light dusting of freckles across your button-like nose, and a faint blush colored your cheeks.

He remembered the first time he met you, after a particularly nasty vampire hunt. Blood spatters were everywhere, on your clothes, in your hair, and on your body. Sam was the least injured of the group, so you sent him to the showers first. Then you turned your attention to Dean, and stitched up his wounds. Dean tried to take care of you before him, because your wounds looked worse. He knew you'd been bitten, so you had likely lost more blood, but you firmly insisted that Dean was healed first.

Once you finished first aid on Dean, you started to feel a bit lightheaded from the blood loss. You lost consciousness and passed out on the motel bed. That was when they called Cas in to help heal you. When Cas first saw you, he thought you were the most dazzling woman he'd ever seen. But, beyond your outward appearance, he also saw how pure and beautiful your soul was. He liked what he saw, and decided that he wanted to know more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cas slid his arm around your shoulders and gently pulled you closer to his left side. You shifted closer, resting your head on his upper body and your hand on his chest. Cas leaned over to rest his head to yours and detected the scent of strawberries from your shampoo. He closed his eyes and curled his fingers around your hand on his chest. When he brushed his lips to the back of your wrist, he could smell the vanilla from your body wash on your skin. For a moment, Cas wondered if your perfect pink lips were as soft and sweet as they appeared to be.

Some time later, Cas felt you stir a little as he held you. First, he heard you mumble in your sleep, mostly about someone being hurt. "Jack!" you murmured. Your head moved back and forth, and Cas could feel your body trembling in fear. "No, leave him alone! Sam, Dean, help me! Cas, please get Jack out of here," you begged, as sobs wracked your body.

Castiel brought his other arm around to cradle you, drawing you closer. "Shh, shh, everything's all right, Honeybee," he soothed. "You're safe now, I promise," he whispered. At that moment, all he could think of was how much he wanted to keep hold of you and protect you from every evil in the world.

A few minutes later, your body stopped shaking. When you opened your honey-and-green colored eyes, you saw Cas looking down at you, his blue eyes filled with concern.

"Cas? Is everything all right?" you asked sleepily.

"I should ask you the same question. It seems you fell asleep here on the couch, and had a nightmare. Would you like to talk about it?" Cas asked.

You thought for a minute, trying to remember what happened in your nightmare. "Someone was hurting my family. This time, it was Jack who had been captured, and someone was hurting him. I was restrained somehow, and pleaded with you, Sam and Dean to help Jack, to rescue him and take him away. Only it seemed like none of you could hear me, so they kept on hurting Jack," you replied. You broke down into tears again, which caused Cas to take you back into his arms.

Suddenly, you bolted down the hall to Jack's room, with Cas right behind you. You carefully opened Jack's bedroom door, relieved to see him sound asleep in his bed. You quietly closed the door, leaned against the wall just outside his room and breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly, you returned to the living room area and sat on the edge of the couch. Cas took your hands in his and resumed his earlier seat on the couch next to you.

"I'm sorry, Cas. For some reason, I had to see Jack with my own eyes. I had to make sure he was okay, after that nightmare I had," you explained.

"I understand. You were very upset from your nightmare, Honeybee. It's only natural that you would want visual confirmation that all was well," Cas replied. While he held your hand, he traced small circles on the back with his thumb.

Your ears perked up at the new nickname Cas gave you. "Cas, did you just call me 'Honeybee'?" you asked tentatively.

He tilted his head to one side as he thought for a moment before answering. "Well, yes, because you're sweet like honey, and you're hard-working like the bees," he responded simply. He continued to hold your hand, then asked, "Why? Do you not like it?"

Cas' gentle strokes on the back of your hand were making it difficult for you to concentrate. "Um, no Cas, I like it. It's fine. It's just that nicknames like that are usually reserved for when two people are more than friends," you replied, as your gaze dropped to the floor.

"About that....I've been having these....feelings where you're concerned. I feel warm just from being around you, and there's a fluttering in my stomach. My heart seems to beat faster whenever I just think of you. I took some time to study you as you slept, and noticed some wondrous things. For example, I noticed that you have freckles on your nose, and I love the smell of your shampoo. It's like strawberries," he added with a grin, which you couldn't help but return.

"I'll remember to get some more, then," you replied. "Wh-what else di-did you notice?" you stammered.

Cas reached up to cradle your face between his hands. "I remember thinking how smart and funny you are. I see that very often, you put the well-being of others before yourself. You take such good care of everyone and everything around you. But, I believe that you deserve to have someone to ensure that you are taken care of as well. Perhaps someone who thinks of you as more than his friend," Cas added softly as he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"Did you have someone in mind? Or do you know of someone who already thinks of me that way?" you asked. You were staring so intently at Cas' blue eyes that you didn't notice he was slowly closing the gap between you. By the time you realized it, his lips were on yours in a gentle but tentative kiss, almost as if he were testing the waters.

Cas pulled back a little to break the kiss and touched his forehead to yours. Your right hand reached up to cup his cheek, and your left hand curled around the back of his neck. You traced his strong jawline with your index finger. Before Cas could completely break away, though, you tugged on his neck to bring him back. You meshed your lips with his, the kiss a little deeper and more insistent this time.

"Oh, Cas," you whispered. "I've imagined this moment thousands of times. I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to lose our friendship if your feelings weren't the same. I'm glad to have someone in my life who cares for me as much as I care for him. I love you, Castiel," you remarked.

"And I love you, Honeybee. You know, Jack told me he had a great day today, being able to help you. I could tell he appreciated how patient you were with teaching him. He said that you remind him of his mother, Kelly Kline. I think that he has been missing her a lot lately, which could explain why his nightmares have been so frequent. I also think that having you around makes him miss her less. I am glad for that," Cas finished.

"What a wonderful thing for him and for you to say," you replied softly as you felt your cheeks grow warm. "I wish I could have met her. I can't ever take her place and wouldn't want to try. But if Jack needs someone 'mom-like' to talk to, I will definitely be there for him. Just as I will always be there for you," you promised.

"I will always be there for you as well, my Honeybee," Cas replied. You leaned towards each other until your lips met in a fiery, passion-filled kiss. You slid your hand up from Cas' cheek and started running your fingers through his raven-black hair. You massaged the top of his head with your fingertips, drawing a soft growl of pleasure from your angel. "Sweetheart, I believe it is best if we continue this activity elsewhere," he said huskily.

You nodded your agreement and rose up from the couch, holding out your hand. Castiel took it in his own and interlaced his fingers with yours as the two of you walked to your bedroom. Once inside, you made sure to lock your door to prevent any interruptions.

#castiel #castiel x reader #spn imagines #spn fluff

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country-club · 5 years ago

Text

Fights

You two get into a fight and make up.

Reader x Pope / JJ / John B / Sarah / Kiara / Rafe / Topper Warnings: swearing, alcohol and mentions of drugs First preference type of thingy I have been working on. I’m sorry some are so short I also didn’t proofread ‘cus school’s almost over and I’m hella tired. Hope you enjoy :)

Pope

Pope HATES fighting, especially when it comes to you. Although Pope is used to the Pogues ruining his plans, it still tends to annoy him. The other day Pope was helping out his dad by delivering some orders when JJ pulled him aside to go check out something ‘super cool, once-in-a-lifetime-experience’, which turned out, wasn’t worth getting in a fight with his dad with. He would stay the night at your place whenever he had a fight at home.

You had been out with the Pogues all night, which would explain why you started feeling sick in the morning. You knew Pope had been studying all day and didn’t want to bug him. However, your hangover was really bad; you could barely make it to the toilet. The worst thing was you were home alone. After a couple of hours, you gave in and called Pope.

“Hey sweetheart, I’m kinda busy.”

“Pope I really need you right now.”

Pope must have heard the pain in your voice and told you he’d be there soon. You were laying on the couch with the television on, watching cartoons. You heard the door open and saw Pope walking in.

“Hey baby, what’s wrong?” He asked as he hurried over to you, only now noticing you were laying on the couch.

“I feel like shit.” You groaned as you sat up straight, making room for Pope.

“What happened?”

“The Pogues and I went out and-“ You couldn’t finish, as Pope cut you short.

“I can’t believe you. I’m sorry, but I came over here because I thought you were hurt or some shit and you’re telling me you called me over because you drank too much?”

You didn’t understand where he was coming from. He promised to always be there for you and currently you felt like shit and he was yelling at you.

“Go fuck yourself Pope.”

He just stood there, shaking his head.

“I gotta get back to studying, I’ll see you around.” And with that he left.

It wasn’t much of a fight, but now you were hungover and hurt.

~~~

It was quite late in the night and you couldn’t sleep. That fight kept you up. Where you the asshole for bothering Pope? Maybe. You decided to text him. Something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry, can we talk?’. At the same time your phone lit up. Pope was calling.

“Hey?”

“Did I wake you?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither, I’m right outside your house and-“ You hung up your phone and got out of bed immediately. Pope looked tired and sad. You walked over to him to give him a hug.

“I’m sorry I ruined your study-day.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I had no right being such an ass when you’re sick. I’m sorry. You needed me and I just yelled at you.”

“It’s been a long week, baby, would you like to come in?” He did. He even got you your favorite comfort food and made sure to give you the best cuddles you ever had. Pope isn’t afraid to say sorry when he’s wrong, which makes it easy on you to forgive him.

When it comes to fighting, JJ is a pain in the ass. This boy will say literally anything and everything that comes to mind without filter. You don’t fight often, but when you do it is big. The fights are usually about him getting into trouble and lying about it, making you worry. Or about his home situation and his dad. The arguments about his dad get him more emotional, teary-eyed even. The arguments about getting into fights with Kooks just make him angrier.

Today, it was the latter.

You were supposed to meet up at the chateau with the Pogues. You were already making your way down The Cut, the sun hurting your eyes as you forgot your sunglasses. You rode past a boy walking down the street. Once you realized it was JJ you biked past, you stopped biking and got off.

“Hey baby!” You made your way over to him. His face was looking down, as if his shoes were more interesting than you. Once you were standing in front of him, he stopped walking and looked up to face you. You immediately knew something was wrong. And by his bloody nose and upcoming black eye, you knew it was bad.

“Hey sweetcheeks.”

“My god, JJ what happened? Who did you fight this time?”

You knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He wanted for you not to know what had happened and just ignore it.

“It’s fine, Y/n, I promise.”

You opened your back to look for tissues while you murmur to yourself.

“I’m just gonna swing by my house, I’ll see you at the chateau alright baby.”

“JJ, please. Not this again. Please?”

He knew what you wanted.

“Some Kooks were bugging me. Can you please let it go?” He took the tissue and cleaned the blood from his nose.

“So, you just fight them? Why do you keep getting-“

“For fucks sake, Y/n. I was just getting some beers. That’s it. When all of the sudden these dicks come after me. Why do you always assume everything’s my fault?”

It wasn’t a question. Though JJ is known for starting fights with Kooks, you weren’t trying to blame him.

~~~

After JJ finished yelling at you, he continued walking. Immediately you were filled with guilt and pain. You followed JJ home, unsure of what to say. The couple of minute walk felt like an hour. JJ doesn’t do the whole silent treatment thing and you were eager to know what had happened.

“I’m sorry I assumed you were the one initiating the fight baby. Are you alright?”

JJ stayed quiet as he opened the door and walked in. He let you follow him to the bathroom where he sat down after splashing water in his face.

“I’m just so fucking tired of those Kooks thinking they can get away with anything, you know.”

You took a washcloth and held in under the tap for a second before helping JJ clean his face.

“I don’t like being chased when I know I’m gonna lose.” JJ did not look emotional, though the sadness on his voice gave it away. You take the littlest step closer to JJ, bringing his face up with your fingers under his chin.

“We will get through this, and you won’t be alone. I’ll always be here for you. Okay?”

JJ nodded before hugging you as tightly as he possibly could.

John B

John B hates fighting with his partner as much as the next guy. He would usually try to be as understanding as he could, but as it turns out, was quick to jump to conclusions. John B also straight up told you when he thought something you did was annoying him, he would subtly address the issue to avoid arguments.

Which brings us to John B ‘subtly’ telling you your cheeseburger is smelling burned. You didn’t react and simply made your way over to the kitchen, only to find your cheeseburger still on the stove and John B not paying attention at all.

“Why didn’t you take it off?”

“I told you it was burning.”

“My god John B, why are you being such an ass?”

“At least I’m not the one who burned a burger.”

“You know what, you go make the fucking burger, asshole.”

You were yelling, not even sure why you were mad. You were frustrated and hungry, making a sandwich and sitting down across of him.

“Can you stop yelling at me?”

“Can you stop burning my burger?”

“I didn’t burn your fucking burger!”

And with that, John B got up and walked away.

~~~

A couple of hours later you decided to check on John B. He was out in the hammock. You walked up to him with two beers in your hands.

“Hey baby.”

You handed him a beer and sat down on the ground.

“I’m sorry for yelling, I was just frustrated and angry.”

“I’m sorry for letting your burger get burned.”

“So, you admit you burned it?”

“No, I just don’t want you to feel bad about it.” John B joked. You punched his arm and climbed into the hammock. John B is stubborn and would rarely admit his wrongs, so you mainly worked things out or dealt with it and moved on.

Sarah

Sarah and you don’t fight much to begin with, though sometimes the little things pile up. Sometimes you’d leave your shoes in the wrong place, leave the fridge open while making a sandwich or forget to charge your phone, leaving you unavailable and out of reach. Sarah would sometimes go through your closet and show up wearing your clothes, throw wet clothing into an empty laundry basket or forgets little stuff you ask her to do; such as watering the plants or putting the milk back in the fridge. These things aren’t bad or big things, not worth a fight at least. However, when you pile all these things up; the situation tends to get heavier. Right now, you heard Sarah cursing from your front door.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to leave your shoes right in front of the door?” Sarah got up off the floor and kicked your shoes to the side.

“I was just grabbing your soaking wet shirt from the laundry so it wouldn’t grow mold on it. Took me a whole second to put it up to dry and put my shoes back on to go outside.”

“Why can’t you just clean up behind yourself, Y/n? It’s all I’m asking.” “I could ask you the same.”

As said before: the two of you piled things up and they only got out when least convenient.

“Screw you, I’m going home and change.”

“Hey, I got some wet clothes for you, maybe you should put those on tonight.”

“Quit whining about that! You’re putting them in the washer anyways and mold doesn’t grow that fast.”

“Sarah, I live on my own. I don’t have mommy and daddy doing my wash 3 times a week.”

“Right but you do have the money to leave the fridge open for half an hour.”

“Half an hour? Really? It’s not even a money problem, I just don’t need to do laundry that often. Speaking of money, you have enough to buy your own clothes, why constantly steal mine?”

“I rarely do that!”

You two went back and forth for a while until Sarah left. You’d see her tonight.

~~~

You arrived at the party and immediately went looking for Sarah. You hated fighting with her, and you knew she did too. She isn’t one to lash out and curse at you like that. You knew you didn’t fuck up bad this time, luckily. Sarah isn’t one to forgive and forget easily, she knows what she’s worth.

“You didn’t even ask if I was okay.” You hear a voice say from behind you. You turned around, finding Sarah wearing one of your shirts.

“You were kind of yelling at me.”

“I was. I tried to call.”

“Battery’s dead.” It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, though a little awkward it sure was. You were the first to apologize, telling her you’ll stow away your shoes from now on. She promised she wouldn’t leave her wet clothes in the basket anymore and subtly told you the other things that got on her nerves.

“I was looking for that, by the way.” Sarah looked down at her shirt, which you were pointing at.

“I can take it off if you like?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Kiara

Kie can be a bit of a hothead. She’s a powerful woman and you love that about her. If there are two things you shouldn’t mess with around Kie, it’s the environment and her friends. You love and trust Kie, but the guys are always around her and flirting with her. You didn’t want to come over as a jealous partner but also can’t help but feel so annoyed when she kisses John B’s cheek. She hangs out with them all the time and sometimes you felt insecure; are you good enough for her? Fun enough for her? You let your insecurity get the best of you and asked Kie if she had any interest in the guys. She seemed slightly offended and a bit confused. When you told her to forget you asked, she wouldn’t stop bugging you.

“Do you think I like my friends? Do you really think that, Y/n?”

“No, I don’t know. Maybe they like you.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“Baby, of course I trust you I just worry about those Pogues making a-“

“Those Pogues.” She mocked you. Looking very offended right now.

“That came out wrong.”

You felt guilty for saying anything about it and not completely trusting her word. Though you were also a bit hurt she wouldn’t understand your side. Kie was very outspoken.

“Y/N, they are my friends and I love them. I don’t get why all of the sudden you have a problem with them.” Her speech went on for a while. You had some say in it as well, however whatever you said was not what she wanted to hear. The argument ended in Kie telling you she didn’t want to see you for a while. So, you left.

~~~

After 2 days of not talking, you decided to go to the restaurant Kiara’s dad owned. You knew she would be out all day and decided to wait on her a little longer. Once she finally did come home, she noticed you right of the bat.

“What are you doing here?” She sat down beside you, putting her bag on the bar. You turned to face her.

“I want to explain myself and apologize.” Kie nodded, as if to tell you ‘go on’. “I sometimes feel insecure, as if I’m not good enough for you. And seeing you around the guys all the time, kissing their cheeks and seeing them flirt with you, that’s hard to get used to. I like the guys; I don’t have anything against them. I just get insecure and wanted you to know. I’m sorry I worded it so bad and made you feel like I couldn’t trust you.”

Kie wrapped her arms around you.

“It’s okay. I just- These boys mean the world to me and it started to sound like I had to choose between you and them. That’s why I got so defensive. I’m sorry about that.”

The two of you had a drink and talked about you feeling insecure, the boys and how much you missed cuddling her the past few days.

Rafe

Rafe and you fought often. Not big fights, just him being annoyed and you feeling like shit clash a lot. You were rarely the reason why Rafe was mad, it usually had something to do with his dad or sister.

You were currently picking up Rafe to go to a party when you found him in an argument with his dad. Ward has always been kind and respectful to you, yet you couldn’t help but feel a bit weirded out by him. By the sound of it they were arguing about some pills Ward found after the party last weekend. Rafe looked like he was about to explode on his father, so you decided to step in.

“Hey Rafe, Ward.” You greeted them as you walked in. “I kind of heard what you were talking about and I just want to say that a friend of mine brought those to the party, I’m sorry.” You had no clue where the pills came from, however you didn’t want Rafe getting into more fights with Ward. Ward looked at you as he spoke up.

“Y/N, good to see you,” his voice turned back to normal. “I think it would be better if you didn’t leave your stuff laying around, with Sarah and Wheezie around.”

You nodded and apologized to him, leaving the house with Rafe. The second you got into the car, Rafe exploded on you.

“I had it under control, Y/n.”

“I know baby, I just didn’t want you to-“

“Please just stay out of it next time. I don’t need you to cover for me.”

“I’m sorry baby.” You didn’t know what to say. You were doing him a favor?

“Just mind your own business okay.”

“Why are you being such a bitch about me helping you out?”

“Because I never needed your help.”

“Right you don’t need me.” You were hurt and in the moment of heat decided to get out of the car and slam the door. Leaving Rafe frustrated.

~~~

You walked a couple of streets, secretly hoping Rafe would follow you. He didn’t. You were upset and fed up. After a while you sat down, unsure of your next move. Right at that moment Ward’s car pulled up next to you and Rafe got out, running up to you.

“Are you here to yell at me some more? Cause I’ve learned my lesson.”

“I know I shouldn’t have yelled at you; I just..” he stopped as he sat down next to you “I really do not want my dad to think of you the way he thinks of me.”

Rafe can be very full of himself and act like the biggest asshole ever. But you knew how insecure he could be and how filled with issues he is. You pulled him into a hug and talked it over for a little while before heading to the party. You were wishing for the party to be over, as Rafe promised to make up for the yelling afterwards.

Topper

Topper is very a very jealous and protective person. He can be so much fun when it’s just you, yet he always feels the need to make sure you’re his and sometimes it gets to you. Usually, you’d just tell him to chill and reassure him nothing is wrong.

Tonight however, he’s been by your side all night and showed no sign of planning to leave it. You on the other hand were eager to know what was happening in the basement of the Cameron residence. So, you kissed Toppers cheek and headed downstairs.

You noticed the group of people huddled around in the middle of the room, Rafe among them. Rafe was never up to any good. You asked what he had been up to and he let you in on a little secret, offering you some of the ‘stuff’ while at it. You kindly declined the offer and just hung out with the high crowd.

At some point you were playing a game and you ended up sitting on Rafe’s lap, due to the lack of chairs. At the same time, you noticed Topper coming down the basement. He walked right over to you and asked what you were doing. Rafe wasn’t paying attention in the slights to what was going on.

“Are you snorting?”

“Baby don’t worry, I’m just hanging out.”

You could barely hear a word he was saying over the loud music and people talking. Topper offered you his hand, which you took. You got up and followed Topper outside.

“Hey, what’s up-“

“Don’t what’s up me. I come looking, ‘cause you said you would only be gone a minute and I find you on top of Rafe, doing lines.”

“Topper I wasn’t even doing coke.”

“You don’t need to lie to me, baby.”

His voice wasn’t as mad as it had been, he sounded more threatening and monitory.

“It’s not even any of your damn business if I were!” It was your turn to be mad.

“Fucking hell, Y/n, you are my business!”

“I can’t handle you right now.” And with that you left Topper standing outside.

~~~

Topper hadn’t followed you after the party. He let you walk home alone, which you were less angry about than him ruining the party for you and starting a fight. It was the morning after the fight as you heard knocks on your door. You said to come in and Topper, holding a bag and flowers showed up.

“Good morning.”

“Morning Topper.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, that wasn’t fair of me.”

“Fuck you Topper, why were you even mad?”

He sat down next to you on your bed as you sat up straight. Topper put the flowers down at the end of your bed.

“Y/n, I am sorry for yelling at you yesterday. I’m sorry I acted like I didn’t trust you.”

Topper was always honest about his apologies. You pulled him in for a hug and he laid down next to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek on his way down.

“What’s in the bag?”

Topper grabbed the bag and showed you the breakfast he had brought over.

“Can’t show up empty handed, can I?”

#obx #outerbanks #outer banks #preference #imagine #john b #sarah cameron #pope #pope heyward #topper thorton #rafe cameron #jj maybank #kiara carrera

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yukalatte · 5 years ago

Text

Slip Off

He knew it was just a slip off, hell even he warned him yesterday that if he got cranky or moody it wasn't because of him, it was just who he was. He understood, so there should've be no problem.

But he knew he was really done fucked up this time.

It was a normal Friday, first week on Spring. Woke up at 6, made him breakfast (omelet this time), morning kiss and started the day. Friday was also Shane's favorite day because finally he could go to saloon for enjoying Friday night, among other things of course. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy Rick's farm. He awfully loved it. The calmness within the forest with gently feeling of wind blowing through his skin and faint sound of cows and chickens, eating happily outside their barn and coop.

If there were any perfect pictures of heaven, he bet this was one of them.

He enjoyed seeing Rick working with his farm. The farm was surprisingly tidy and organized. There were sections of fruit trees, fish ponds with...questionable fish species (Rick insisted those fish were legal, at least), and huge section for barn and coop area surrounded by iron fences so the animals wouldn't wander too far. Shane remembered going to this place out of curiosity before Rick came and even he didn't know this used to be a farm. Should he gave Rick props for his hardwork and effort to renovate this farm. Never thought that a stranger from city, came to unknown village for living a new life as a farmer. Such thing was ridiculous to be thought, but here he was, looking at the fruition of Rick's hardwork.

And to think that he chose Shane than the others. His Rick was full of surprise indeed.

“I'm going out today, alright?” Rick only smiled and kissed him on the lips before storming to his farm. Shane put the omelet inside microwave while prepared himself before going to Pierre's, cheeks still tinged with blush. Get a grip, old man! He did this every morning for godsake!

Oh how far they would become, Shane thought. From strangers who shunned each other (mostly from Shane, obviously) to partners for life. He probably couldn't get away from shock remembering at the end of Fall last year, Rick barged into Marnie's house and straight up went at him with mermaid pendant on his hand. Shane, with frozen pizza on his hands, also went frozen (that was bad). His life was full of surprise after Rick came into his life, being a boyfriend even after witnessing his pathetic breakdown several times, and now became his husband that loved kissing him as often as he could. And that happened within Rick's first year as a villager of Stardew Valley.

Damn his husband was full of surprise indeed.

After buying stuff from Pierre's, Shane straight up went to saloon, order cans of Joja Cola and one beer, and played Prairie King. Eventhough he promised that he wouldn't drink anymore, but he admitted to his husband that he finally breached his breakpoint and couldn't live without the bitterness from fresh poured beer. Rick only sighed and kissed him on the cheek.

"Just don't drink too much, okay?" he said while kissing him, down south this time.

Rick occasionally gave Shane homemade mead or pale ale. He liked it but nothing beat the saloon beer of course.

Shaking his head, Shane started arranging his cans and glass within his reach and started playing. At least playing game could repress his alcohol addiction, if just a little.

Just a normal Friday.

Until it was not.

"GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!!"

Shane slammed the machine as his character evaporated on the screen. He lost, so fucking much. He couldn't even get 5th level. That fortune teller on tv was probably right, no blessing today. Out of frustration he went to cashier and order one beer.

And another.

He went back home, realizing that he ordered 5 more glass of beer. And he didn't care. His mood forced him to. Even the usual gentle night breeze hit cold on his skin. Shane entered the house and saw Rick on the kitchen, tired smile on his face. It was unusual, seeing Rick still awake. Judging by his dirty attire, he surely overworked on the farm and probably dead tired.

I should greeted him, Shane thought.

Maybe giving him nice kiss, he thought as well.

But his eyes focus on behind his back and noticed unwashed dishes and trash scattered around the kitchen floor.

He was not happy.

"Why don't you clean up the house when I'm gone?"

Rick's smile vanished

"You know you could picking up trash when I'm going out."

He had no idea why he said it. It was cruel, he knew it. But his bad mood overshadowed his judgement.

He walked to the sink, hopefully-not-so-violently brushed off Rick's shoulder and working on the dishes. He corrected himself, this was a really, if not the worst, bad Friday. He lost on game, now he did the dishes. Great. He continued doing the dishes and grumpily complained every single unfortunate events he encountered today. He almost didn't recognize the sound from microwave until he checked what was cooked inside.

It was the omelet. Untouched omelet that he made for Rick this morning.

He quickly took a glance at the dishes. Those dishes were the ones he used for making breakfast this morning. And trash that scattered around, eggshells and milk jug that Rick took the day before for breakfast this morning. He remembered that he forgot to put those on the trashcan and just left in on kitchen counter.

His mind went back on Rick's face. Full of dirt and that tired smile. Shane tried to tie those images together.

Oh God.

"What have I done..."

In the end, he couldn't do anything about it. After realized what stupidity had he done, Shane rushed into their bedroom and found Rick already sleeping. His worn clothes were put neatly on laundry basket, as long with his backpack. Shane joined him on their bed, with horror he caused on his husband.

Rick was too focused on his farm work that he forgot to eat his breakfast, went home late, reheating his late breakfast and Shane barged in, reeked with alcohol, and accused him for things that he caused and left his husband starved for a day. Starved because he hadn't touched anything from the fridge and Shane heavily opposed on his husband eating anything outside their kitchen (he still had that fear seeing Rick eating brown carrot raw) and since then he only ate anything Shane or Rick himself cooked.

Horror probably wasn't exaggeration. Too underwhelming, he mind.

Shane's mood for stupid game vanished after realization of his inexcusable behaviour against his husband. He broke his promise today, now he hurt his Rick. His beautiful Rick, who gave him reason to live, who guided him in his darkest time. And now all of his kindness he offered, Shane threw it away. He felt like a shit now.

He remembered telling Rick that he sometimes got in bad mood and slipped off, but it wasn't because of him. Rick, like a sunshine he was, only nodded in understanding.

He could make this as an excuse of having slip off. But the problem was, this slip off was directed to him, and nothing else.

Shane couldn't sleep at that night, his mind rewinding those events of his failure. It was such a strong word for marriage quarrels, but for him there were no better words for things that had he done. He kept looking on Rick's face, sleeping like a baby. He wanted to hug him, adressing how sorry he was for what he had done. But his coward mind wouldn't allow him to.

Tomorrow he would wake up early and made his favorite dish. And built his courage to apologize at him. He held his husband's hand and with those pledges he made in his mind, he went to sleep.

Tomorrow should be fine, he convinced himself.

But of course sometimes it wouldn't go as planned.

Rick was gone.

Shane woke up late and tried to find his husband but he was nowhere to be seen. Did he go to town? Or mountains? Or probably the forest? He searched for him everywhere, but no luck. He hadn't had his breakfast, which made Shane more anxious. Where the fuck was he?

He finally went back to the farm, sitting on his usual spot, waiting for Rick to come home. Rick should be fine, he convinced himself. He heard some villagers telling stories of how Rick went to dangerous places for helping them. He was strong, his Rick was strong.

Everything should be fine.

He felt touch on his shoulders. Shane looked up.

He was hoping to find his husband's face, full of sweat and smelled dirt and grass.

Instead he found Dr. Harvey, and strong smell of medicine.

"Shane, you should come to the clinic."

His mind went blank.

He still remembered at rainy summer, he laid down unconscious on this clinic's bed when Harvey emptied all the alcohol he consumed while having mental breakdown and considered himself to walk off the cliff. If Rick hadn't found him, he rather wouldn't think about it. That memory was the ugliest one, yet he cherished it because he realized that there was someone who cared deeply for him. It opened his eyes and made him move forward to the brighter future.

But never he imagined that the position was reversed in million times.

Harvey informed him that someone found him unconscious inside mountain mines. He was full of cuts and some of them were in worse condition but thankfully it was quickly handled by Harvey. The doctor informed he could go home after he woke up.

Shane half-heard Harvey's information while his main focus was on the body that laid in front of him. His Rick, oh God Rick...

"I'll leave you both alone, call me if he wakes up," Shane only nodded once. And by that, they were both alone.

He looked so frail. Bandages wrapped most of his hands and legs. He only used pants, and bandages were also wrapped around his chest. Some of cuts were also visible on his face. Shane only could look, he desperately wanted to shake him awake and scream at him of what the fuck was he doing, endangering himself like that. Oh how bad he would do that.

But part of him also reminded him of what had he done to him yesterday.

If he wasn't that grumpy or moody, his husband wouldn't get mad at him, or endangered himself in the mines. If he didn't break his promise to control his alcohol intake, he probably could think clearly and wouldn't slip off like yesterday.

If he didn't do those shits yesterday, this thing wouldn't happen to him.

If only he wouldn't be this stupid.

If only...

Shane's traitorous mind wandered around, making mental image on various ways how he would find Rick in emergency room, blood oozing from his body, pale white skin that contradicted with Rick yellowish skin, glowing with touch of sunlight. His cloudy eyes boldly stared at him and his mouth slightly opened, blood trickled at the corner of his lips.

He couldn't. He couldn't bear the thought of him outlive his husband. Their marriage was oh so young, Shane was still at cloud nine enjoying this luxury that he couldn't imagine.

He couldn't lose Rick.

He...

"Shane?"

All of Shane's horrible thoughts froze, his focus shifted to his face. Rick's blue eyes slightly opened, and he posed that goofy smile again. After all of these horrid accidents, he was still able to pull that smile.

What did he deserved to marry such a fine man like Rick?

"Rick..."

"That bad huh? That annoying black thing really did a great job on me this time. Heh, next time I'll shove my mega bomb on it then we'll back in business."

Next time? Fucking next time??

Did he really...

"Are you fucking serious?! What do you mean next time?! You worry the shit outta me and still thinking of next time?!" Shane screamed at him like no tomorrow. How could he say such thing? Did he never think of how he felt if anything happened to Rick?

And he realized who was responsible to put him in this state. And how he put the similar treatment at Rick; never thought of his feelings.

He froze.

"Shane? Dear, what's wrong?"

His bandaged hand tried to touch Shane's face. Shane, felt like a scum and failure, tried to avoid the touch. But he couldn't. He couldn't move from his seat. He was too scared of outcome, too scared to see his mistakes in front of him. He didn't put much devotion to Yoba, but if Yoba existed, he hoped he could turn back time and prevent those events happen. He would greet him as usual, kissed his husband on the cheek and having a nice night. He desperately wanted to do that.

Except he knew he couldn't. Too good to be true.

He felt his chin lifted up, and his eyes met Rick's, his ocean blue eyes stared at him. Warmth pouring through his gaze, so much that Shane couldn't handle it. He was already in his breaking point and all he could do was cry. Rick hurriedly got up from his bed and pulled his husband into his embrace, ignoring the slight pain he felt. Shane kept crying over his shoulder, hugging him back like a lifeline.

"I'm sorry Rick, I'm so sorry..."

"Hush, dear. Nothing to be sorry about," he whispered. Rick's hand worriedly stroked his husband's hair. Shane shook his head, untangle himself from warm embrace and lift his head so they looked straight at each other.

"No, you listen to me Rick, I did this. ALL OF THIS! If I didn't yell at you yesterday you probably still have energy to fight back. You haven't touched your breakfast since yesterday and went to mines. I should be thankful if your condition isn't bad, bu..but what if it gets worse?" Shane felt his composure slipped away, but he couldn't stop his blabbering. "What if no one finds you, wh...what if you've left rot and d...die there? I-I just made you crispy bass, you like those right? It took a fucking shitton of time to catch that slimy sucker for you. I-I thought you would eat it and then I said sorry a...and we got over with it. Bu...but you weren't there. You were...gone."

He felt his fresh tears flowing again, he choked up.

But he couldn't stop, he should say what needed to be said. Fuck with his wet face.

Now or never.

"Y-you could be go-gone, like for real. And I haven't apologized, and you'll le-leave me alone, become a fucking widower. And this happen be-because of me. I didn't treat you right like you treat me. You...you treat me like a fucking princess and what do I do? Going to saloon, drinking like there's no tomorrow, breaking my promise, and yelling at you as if you're ungrateful husband that never helps me in entire of my life, and let my husband starved. I should be the one who get hurt, not you! I should be.."

Shane's lips met Rick's, silencing him up. His husband's lips felt warm, despite he used minimum clothes in this cold room. Slowly Shane melt on their kiss, calming him down. Until he was pulled again into his husband's warm embrace.

"Oh Shane," said Rick, "you worried about last night? I knew you were just slipping off."

Slipped off? No, it wasn't slip off, Shane screamed in his mind.

"And I know what you're thinking, Shane. Your face are readable as a book. It was a slip off. You reeked of alcohol last night, no surprise that you pulled those talks. Besides you warned me before, remember?"

Shane only nodded, but as Rick said, his face showed him that he still conflicted with so many things. Rick continued his explanations.

"And as for skipping my breakfast today, well that was fully on my fault. I forgot there's errand that I haven't finished yet so I just went there without breakfast nor any preparation." He snickered, "that didn't end well, did it?"

Hearing that Rick didn't put blame on him and thinking it was just a slip off made his body relaxed a little. He lifted his face up to met another kiss from his husband.

"Shane, you are not a failure, or piece of garbage. You are Shane, my bundle of joy that I happily married with. A silly pretty man who only knows how to cook from microwave and work harder to change himself for better. I couldn't ask for more"

Shane only responded with burying his face deeper in his shoulder.

"I'm not pretty," he mumbled.

"Yes yes I know, just 6 inch shorter."

"Don't you ever go there, Rick!"

Rick laughed. And behind his hidden face, Shane smiled. At least everything was taken care of.

"Although," Rick continued, "you shouldn't drink too much. Yesterday you reeked, different than usual. I'm worried." Shane only responded with 'I know', but he mentally took his husband's concern seriously. Rick kept saying it wasn't his fault, but he knew one day those slip offs would've be taken seriously and possibly would affected to their life.

He wouldn't let his husband down.

"Should we call Harvey? I think I'm quite healthy enough."

His embrace became tighter. Rick looked down, looking at Shane buried his face even deeper.

"Just...can it wait for 5 minutes? Please, Rick?"

Rick kissed his temple in response and returned his embrace. Shane finally could exhale freely. Everything was fine, as it should've been.

It was just a slip off.

Note 1 : this is inspired from a surprise Shane dialogue that I couldn't find correct line of it. He mentioned that the player should've taken care the trash and cleaning the house while Shane was going out. It caught me off guard, considering his heart was full and his dialogue showed like he was in low heart situation. Weirdly enough, the day before Shane also mention that if he got cranky it was because of his mood, not him.

Note 2 : I name my character Dawson instead, because everytime I saw Shane, I couldn't help myself saying Dawson afterwards. Can't put his name here, I probably will laugh my ass off.

Note 3 : Sorry for mistakes here and there

Note 4 : Harvey is still better fight me

#stardew valley #stardew shane #stardew farmer #sdv shane #sdv farmer #sorry if this is too hyperbolic #longer than i expected #ah well #fanfic

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larryfanficwriter98 · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Six

Louis jumped when his phone started ringing and he looked at it to see a facetime request from Harry. He grinned and answered it leaving the living room to enter the kitchen. Harry was outside in sunny Los Angeles with Hollywood hills behind him from a patio.

"Do you realize the shitshow you have caused on my picture?" Harry greeted him clearly amused, letting Louis know he wasn't upset at all. "I woke up on Christmas Day to this. You have the nerve to comment on my picture and not follow me then you turn your profile on private so I can’t stalk you? Really? I have to have permission to look at your modeling pictures. You're a dick. An absolute dick." Louis laughed covering his mouth with his hand that was currently covered in Harry's pink merch sweater. "You didn't even follow me."

"I'll follow you I promise. I'll do it now, look I’m grabbing my new fancy macbook and logging in.

"You better. Jerk. I'll follow you after you follow me. Some boyfriend you are." Harry said, making Louis shake his head as he logged in and got on his Instagram account, then he went to his notifications and his eyes widened.

"I have 147 follow requests." Louis told Harry before he clicked on one of the notifications of a reply on his comment. "Holy shit. They're crazy."

"Yeah no kidding." Louis went to Harry's profile and followed him, "finally." Not a minute later Harry sent a request to follow him that he accepted immediately, "there's my hot boyfriend."

"Stop it." Louis said blushing as he commented on Harry's newest picture from a few days ago. It was of the view from his plane as they flew over the ocean to California. He commented "When I asked you to send pics this was not what I was talking about.👀.". Harry looked off to the side from the screen to his mac-book that was beside him on a side table, he frowned for a second then he laughed.

"Louis! No.." Harry said laughing as he turned a deep red, "you're gross." He said even though Louis could see him typing on his laptop. Louis waited then he got the notification and he laughed as he read the reply from Harry reading,

''This is a family friendly account. Go away.

I'll send some more later. I'll be sure to wear that hat you like.🤠"

"I think we broke your fans." Louis said laughing

"We should get off before you go and get a ship started."

"A ship?"

"Just wait."

~~~~~~~~

It took a few weeks for it to really sink in for Louis that he was dating Harry Styles. That he was dating an international award winning popstar. He was dating a Gucci model. He was reminded of this when he had stumbled upon a few of his photos. He and Harry talked daily and even facetimes for both of their New Years Eve, Louis had to wake up for Harry's but it was worth it. Recently on occasion one or both of them could be caught looking longingly at the screen, but they always did something to cheer the other one up.

Louis had a countdown on his phone so anytime he looked at it, it would tell him how much longer until Harry was back in the UK. Harry would still be busy and have things to do until March when his tour ended, but he would be here and Louis couldn't wait. Harry often talked about missing home, especially when it got to the last leg of the tour, said it always got harder, but it was even worse now.

After a lot of talking Louis and Harry finally made the decision to make Louis profile public after many flirty comments to each other in Harry's posts. Louis had even made a Twitter account just so he could attach a photo of their facetime one day and tell Harry how cute he looked when he had eye crud. Harry hadn't liked that picture at all and told Louis there would be payback.

The payback had been a video of Louis when he was drunk in January and was shaking his ass on a table. Liam had recorded it laughing his ass off as he, Zayn, and Niall kept men away from him. Louis had been wasted that night and didn't remember it at all, but there was video evidence and now it was all over twitter. That video has caused a lot of fans to talk about his ass which had Louis bushing as he read the tweets.

So Louis made his Instagram public and posted a picture of him in Harry's lilac sweater standing in front of his floor length mirror. The sweater fell to his thighs, just long enough to cover everything that needed to be covered since he didn't have anything else on. It was a side view so his ass curve was visible and he made sure to stick out just a little bit more. In the caption he wrote,

Okay, but why do I have thousands of teen girls asking about my ass? 👀

Harry was the first one to like the post and commented,

👀 that's a nice sweater. Mind sharing? It's a bit chilly over here.

Send me new ones and we can discuss potentially sending you this sweater.

You realize my house has a closet full of sweaters. And my laundry detergent. As well as my cologne.

👀...You don't say...and for no particular reason...what's your address?

😂 I've conveniently forgot.

🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

LEWIS! How dare you. This is a family friendly account

Yours is family friendly. Mine is not.

~~~~~~~~~~

Since October Louis' Instagram had been filled with a lot of things that involved Harry in some way. Most of it was pictures of the gifts Harry sent, now it was of their screenshot facetime calls or pictures Harry sent through texts. It was also of Louis posting his new flowers biweekly that was delivered to his house by a florist employee.

Occasionally it was regular things like a selfie or a picture of him and the lads flicking the camera off on a group shot. His middle finger apparently became a "thing" that Harry's fans loved, he didn't exactly know why nor did he really care. His family had taken the news to him dating Harry Styles pretty well all things considered as did the lads.

"So I've been thinking." Louis was pulled away from his phone by Liam speaking

"You didn't hurt yourself did you?" Louis asked

"Ha ha. I was thinking we all have vacation time and Valentine's Day is next week. How about we fly out to Orlando, Florida to see your boyfriend." Louis tensed, "if that is something you two are ready for."

"You want us to fly out to Orlando for Valentine's Day so I can meet my international popstar boyfriend for the first time? While he just happens to be in one place for a week."

"Without telling Harry. Yes. He gave you the address to his Orlando home to return the sweaters didn't he? Just bring them in person."

"But what if-"

"No what ifs. Come on Lou let's be impulsive one last time." Zayn said, "let's go to Orlando and have fun and meet your boyfriend."

"Alright. How much is a flight-"

"Nope. Not happening. We are all pitching in to buy your flight. It's our gift to you." Niall spoke this time grinning. "Besides thanks to you and your paranoia we all have a few thousand in our savings."

"What? No. I am buying my own-"

"No you're not. We got this. Now call your boss and tell her you need vacation for next week."

Louis grinned and went to his contacts thinking about how he got so lucky to have three amazing best friends. They have noticed that lately the distance has been affecting Louis more than he was willing to admit. The few times they all facetimed with Harry Louis knew they could see the longing in Harry's face too whenever he and Louis looked at each other. After getting the vacation he had until Saturday at 4am to keep it a secret from Harry.

Departure was 4am Saturday (11pm Friday Orlando time), the flight was 9 hours long so they would stay up all night Friday and sleep on the plane. Landing will be 8am Orlando time (1pm Manchester time). However since they were sleeping the flight down they were going to be adjusted to Orlando time. It was genius the way the lads had planned it, the return flight was the same, flying during the night so they landed in the morning at Manchester. Louis didn't know how he was expected to keep it a secret. He was terrible with secret keeping.

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atopearth · 4 years ago

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Steins;Gate: My Darling’s Embrace Part 6 - Mayuri Route (Stardust Duplet)

Hahahaha, I love how they were discussing the idea for a new gadget to sell to pay for their exorbitant electricity bills and Mayushii suggests a robot Mayushii, and then later she brings a doll with a voice recording of herself saying "Tutturu🎵" loll, it's so cute. Aww, she gave it to Okabe, lmao at Kurisu telling him to hold it to sleep hahaha. I find it hilarious how the game let's you scroll up and down to look at each of the girl's swimsuits properly hahaha. As usual, I think Kurisu looks the best, I don't like Mayushii and her hat with the bikini swimsuit tbh haha. Faris looked all right but nothing special~ It was pretty cute how Okabe couldn't stop staring at Mayushii though hahaha. Aww he lent her his shorts to cover up since she was so embarrassed hahaha, they're so adorable~ Okay, the swimsuits look much better without the jackets hahaha. Awww I loved how cute Mayushii and Okabe were when they played in the water together, I just feel like there's always this nice childlike sweetness to their relationship that Okabe only shares with her, so it's always heartwarming to see. I love how Mayushii taught him how to swim properly, it's rare for him to actually learn something from her so it's fun to see that. Lmao at them playing volleyball and Faris used Daru as a shield🤣

I honestly teared up when Mayuri cried. She saved Okabe from drowning (when he was being silly) but she got so scared that he was actually going to die🥺🥺 I could feel her emotions, Okabe is always so reckless, he's lucky Mayuri watches him closely and knows when he's in trouble. I found it really cool that Mayuri saved him (even though it was expected that she would), since it's nice to contrast it with how Okabe kept trying his best to save her in the original game. Lmaoo I love all the new messages Mayuri added to Robo-Mayushii, it's hilarious how she tells Okabe silly things through it, like telling him to brush his teeth before he sleeps hahaha, but it's so sweet as well, especially since she spent so much time on it, she didn't have enough time to finish her costumes for ComiMa by the first day, we all know how important ComiMa is to her and Daru, so it's sweet to see indirectly as well how much she cares about Okabe. Mayuri is such a pure soul, she was thinking about doing the modelling job Moeka's boss wanted her to do just so she can be of use to the lab/Okabe and help pay off their electricity bill🥺🥺 Why does she warm my heart so much🥺 It was obvious that Mayuri would end up taking the modelling job after all, but it's kinda cute how Okabe joined in too hahaha. The CG of Mayuri and Okabe looking at the Christmas tree together was so nice~ I loved how Mayuri had so much fun taking photos with her Okarin, it was so sweet to see. It's funny how oblivious Okabe is towards Mayuri's feelings but it wouldn't be Okabe if he realised stuff like this, in this game anyway lol. I also loved how he wanted to buy her the star on top of the tree because she kept staring at it hahaha.

It was so funny when Mayuri told Okabe to go to sleep again so she could do the anime cliche thing where the MC's childhood friend goes into their room to tell them to wake up, since when she came to wake him up, he was on the floor (from the shock of his dream about a flirty Mayuri lmao). Wow, Mayuri is so comfortable with Okabe, she's even willing to do his dirty laundry and stuff like dang, my waifu~ lmaooo at Rintaro's dad telling Mayuri to just marry his son and move in with them (since her parents are moving but she's staying here for school and will have to move in with her aunt). HAHAHA, I loved how Mayuri was so into being a grocer (since Okabe's house is a grocery store) when they tended to the shop together. Aww why did she cry looking at Okabe?! Anyway, I loved how when the lab members saw how good the photos were, especially of Okabe, they were so shocked, and even Daru felt betrayed because he thought Okabe was the same breed as him lmaooo. On another note, lmao at Faris thinking Kurisu's name was actually Christina and thought she was part American or something hahahaha. I honestly didn't think Mayuri was actually moving and that's why she cried! I'm glad everyone told Okabe to properly think about his feelings towards Mayuri and stop thinking she's still a kid, I'm also glad that he's properly chasing after her knowing that he's always thought that she would stay by his side forever but now that it might not be so, he wants to tell her that he wants her to stay here with him. It was so sad and sweet when Okabe realised why Mayuri was so insistent on finishing Robo-Mayushii so fast, since she knew she wouldn't be with him for much longer but still wanted to support him, she's the best🥺🥺🥺 OMGGG, Okabe's confession of love, Mayuri honestly telling him that she thought he could live without her especially since he's so close with Kurisu, him giving her the Christmas tree star and in front of her grandmother's grave too, everything was just so perfect!!!! Like, I read somewhere where people praised Mayuri's route for being the best but omg, it's so good, I feel like their relationship throughout the route was so natural and sweet, it honestly felt much better than the main game Mayuri route hahaha. Lmaooo when Mayuri was taught by Kurisu that kisses should be done on the third date hahahah, it's kinda funny how they ended up kissing three times hahaha, but I loved how Mayuri first initiated it and then Okabe did for the last two times, it was so cuteeee, my heart is so full and warm. I love Mayuri and Okabe🥺🥺🥺 I love how they went to Mayuri's parents together and asked for her to stay in Tokyo, it was so cool to see how resolute Mayuri was knowing that it was a selfish decision but she really didn't want to leave🥺 they’re so young and beautiful~

Awww so cute how Suzuha gave Okabe tips on how to win the metal upa in the shooting game at the festival for Mayuri hahaha. Too bad he couldn’t get it lolll. Anyway, I just love how compared to other routes, Okabe is so honest and forthright with his feelings, it's like Mayuri was the one who was able to draw that part out of him haha. It was so funny how when Mayuri was late and they thought she wouldn't be able to stay in Tokyo, so Luka told him to draw fortunes for good luck and Okabe got bad luck, so Luka said he should draw again because their fortunes are inaccurate hahahah, Luka is so silly but kind. HAHAHA, I love how Okabe misunderstood thinking Mayuri told her parents that she would live with Okabe after high school graduation to not inconvenience her aunt when she actually told them she would live at the lab lmaooo, it was so cute though, he practically proposed to her again hahaha. And yes I forgot to say but I loved how he "proposed" to her at her grandmother's grave before saying he wants her to be his hostage until they die haha. Anyway, Okabe trying to run away with Mayuri in embarrassment as everyone congratulates them in their "marriage" is just hilarious and awesome, I loved every bit of it hahahah.

Overall, Mayuri's route is definitely the best route and probably the only one worth my money LOL. As I've already said, Mayuri and Okabe's relationship was very natural and sweet in this route and I think this was the only route that did what I wanted this game to do, which was give each girl a proper route without all the baggage about the world, timelines and everything in the original game so that they can all have a normal happy ending, which I feel like only Mayuri's route showed that, and maybe Faris. What I liked most about Mayuri's route is that they both properly showed their love for each other without having to rely on the fact that they were childhood friends and instead they developed it from that, which I really appreciated. It also really helps that Mayuri's VA Hanazawa Kana is amazing at portraying emotions through her voice, I really wanted to cry whenever Mayuri cried😭 Honestly, even if this game only had Mayuri's route I would be satisfied lmao.

Overall Review: 6/10 b/c of Kurisu & Mayuri

Anyway, I have to admit though, the only route really worth playing is Mayuri's and maybe Faris for the all the maid interactions loll. The rest are okay but honestly, Suzuha's one is pretty terrible and I just felt bad for Luka in his route even though I was happy that Luka kindaaa got through to him? Lol. Kurisu and Moeka's routes I was pretty apathetic about because they weren't terrible but they weren't good either. The funny thing is that Kurisu was pretty annoying in her own route, but she was honestly the best girl in all the other girl's routes lmaoo (aside from Mayuri's of course), she was such a highlight with her banter in them all that I absolutely loved her presence in each one hahaha, she was that enjoyable to watch. Overall, I'd say the game is worth buying if you love Mayuri LOL, because that was the only good romance route, the rest were pretty meh, and I have to mention, it's so weird how in every other route the romance doesn't really end with them together (aside from Luka but that one was kinda weird), it's only Mayuri's that it's very clear cut that Okabe got together with her lol, like c'mon!! I love Mayuri but it's really unfair to the other girls lol. Oh well though, I'm glad I got to finish the game off with a blast because now I can't stop thinking about how cute Okabe and Mayuri were~~~

#steins;gate my darling's embrace #My Darlings Embrace

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