#my friend/manager is icing me out because I went and said some really dumb shit while venting about our control freak cult leader boss

[vespvcc]

I'm having a BPD spike. I'm super triggered, and I really just wanna disappear, y'all.

[onakomiyaki]

just a silly crush (not) pt.2

pairing : daniel ricciardo x childhood friend-brabham!reader

summary : your wall is starting to crumbling down, thanks to daniel. and the ice exterior you've been putting on for years started to melt, thanks to the daniel, the sunshine himself.

warning: unedited and rushed work, harsh words, slowburn.

a/n : we start to explore what's going on with y/n brabham. and honestly this is one of my favorite chapter to write so far!

most of juniors that tried to befriended you have one same goals; to get you to help them to get close to some of your friends-your driver friends of course. or maybe that's just how you've been treated your whole life when you grow up, so you just assume that they want you for something–link to the drivers in this case.

if there is something you know best about f1 is that it is a hot topic amongst your juniors in modelling world and oh how they wish to be one of the wags of the f1 drivers.

many have tried, from buying you some expensive gift, trying to go on a lunch date with you, or just be your matchmaker–which let's be honest, sound kind of dumb when you surrounded by some of good looking-breath-taking drivers, not only in f1 but on some other motorsports as well–and the list is still counting.

and you, by natural, got a lot of heat from it. but you're fine. by the end of the day you're still the one who spend some holidays with those drivers, not them.

but not even once succeeded to even own your private phone number.

"(y/n) you really need to be nice to your colleagues, the media is onto you again." anna, your manager, watch your reflection with annoyed expression.

"what is it now?" you simply ask, eyes closing as you massage your temple.

"you were voted as the most cold-hearted models to work with." she exclaim, walking towards your direction with ipad in her hand.

you just stare at the pad with unamused expression. you read the headline with a frown on your face, then let out a scoff.

"(Y/N) BRABHAM, THE EVERCHANGING ICE PRINCESS,"

"COLD AS THE ARTICS, HERE ARE (Y/N) BRABHAM'S ICONIC RESTING B**** FACE!"

"i honestly adore (y/n) so much, she's an icon. but it is-it is hard to get close to her. to make friend with her outside the work talk. almost like she build this wall around us."

"i remember she's constantly sat alone in the dressing room-sometimes she just sat there with her headphone on. and when she's alone no one dare to talk to her-she's just that intimidating!"

and there's more articles and some interview snippets from your junior about how unapproachable you are.

"ice princess? what am i, elsa from frozen?" you said, scrolling away.

"i told you to be nice to those young models, (y/n)." anna said, snatching the ipad from your hand.

you finally turn your body, looking up at your manager. "they only want me because they want to get to know my friends." you stated.

"well maybe they want to be your friends? can't you just humor them for once? it won't kill you to gave them some of your friends' numbers..." she asked, sitting down on the sofa, just across you.

"anna, im not trying to gatekeep those men. they are welcome to get to know lewis, lando, carlos, charles, max, esteban, pierre-"

"and daniel."

"-nope. not daniel, not a chance." you finally turn your body, pointing at anna with frown on your face.

"why not? you know him the longest i'm sure you'll find a model that will fit him as a girlfriend." she asked, throwing a little smirk at you.

"that's the problem, i've known him almost all my life! what if i introduce him to a wrong person then shit went downhill? what if they only want his money? i can't risk that anna." you said, voice gone an octave higher.

"(y/n) you know that's not true. that's just you being scared of nothing-"

"anna you don't understand! he is the one constant in my life that i can count on–he keep me grounded okay? i am me with him and the thought of losing him-"

"(y/n)-"

"‐point is im not gonna risk my friendship like that. especially with daniel. if they want to get to know those drivers, just attend the race, get a paddock pass or something. im sure if those drivers truly interested they will come." you finally stated, voice stern as you turn your back on your manager like a kid throwing small tantrum.

anna shakes her head in disbelief as she walk away from you, taking the ipad with her. "you're such a child sometimes."

"oh but you love me enough to stay with me for 10 years." you bite back.

"and i am amazed at myself for doing that. okay back to the topic, can just think about befriending your junior, please? that's all i ask from you, and you know i never asked anything from you." anna said as she walk out from your room, closing the door behind her.

you just sat there, pouting as you return your attention to your original task, watching the replay of british gp on your laptop.

it has been almost 2 months since your party and your meeting with daniel. and its also been 2 months since you call him. yes, texts were exchanged, but of course you miss his voice as well.

between your tight schedule and his race, you never find a time to call him. well you can but choose not to. you don't want to distract him.

as you saw the checkered flag being waved you take your phone, wanting to send daniel a congratulations text for his p5.

p5 bigman. congrats! podium next maybe? i miss watching your shoey thingy.

you stop, hovering at the send button. you want to call him. should you call him? you should probably call him instead. its his highest position of this season afterall.

but what if he's busy? he should be loaded with interviews by now right? ah there's also briefing right? you shouldn't call him. but, it won't hurt trying to call him. worst thing that can happen is the call never got answered anyway.

so you just sat there, phone in your hand as you chew the inside of your cheek, tasting a bit of iron when you accidentally bit too hard.

10 minutes have passed, and you're still staring at your phone. pretty sure by now daniel would've changed his outfit, already out of his race suit and maybe already headed back to his motorhome.

before you chickened out, you press the call button. the call is connected and you shriek, pushing the phone away as if the phone burn you.

"please don't answer, please don't answer! please-"

"hello?"

"p5 mate, that's a good one." one of the engineers welcome him with a clap on his shoulder, but voice is not as excited as it should be.

"yeah, thanks. i can do better, i will do better next time." daniel said, voice a bit trembling from the adrenaline that still coursing through his body.

he pull the baclava off or his head, sweats dripping from his brown curls. his freckled face flushed, chest heave heavily as he wait for his water. if you look close enough, you can see steam seeping out from his racing suit.

he tear the velcro of his race suit, pulling the zipper down. "daniel! points for both of us!" lando, race suit sat snuggly on his hips, greeting the older man with a beaming smile.

"and you did amazing out there. keep up with the goodwork." daniel said, ruffling the younger's hair, smiling proudly at the young brit.

although daniel got points for mclaren, he knew that all eyes are on him. expecting something more from the ferocious honey badger, a win maybe. and truth be told he also expected more from himself.

the fact that p5 is his current highest position in this season really speak something. of course its not a bad thing, but he can't help it. he knew mclaren put a lot of faith on the 7 times champions to take home the first trophy for mclaren.

he silently walk back to his driver room, helmet sat snuggly on his waist beneath his arm. michael, his trainer, follow him while he ramble about their next training session.

but of course the only voices he heard right now is just some static buzz and noises. he is dissosiating, moving autopilot towards the sofa and plop down. his body instantely melts as he stare blankly at the ceiling.

"- and (y/n) will be there and all." michael said.

at the mention of your name, daniel's ears perk up and he only gave the other man a puzzled looks.

"sorry, you were saying?" he said.

"daniel this is getting ridiculous. i've spent 5 minutes explaining how we can improve your training and you just listen to me after i mention (y/n). just call her for godsake." michael said as he put some notes for daniel down on the table, throwing an acussing stare at him. daniel flustered under his gaze.

"sorry i was just– its not that! i–"

"i get it buddy, you're hopelessly in love with (y/n)" michael said, patting the aussie on the shoulder as he walk out from his room. "you really should call her man, stop playing the tough guy card, you're not fooling yourself or anyone."

daniel sigh in defeat, unable to come out with a comeback. to think that everyone but her knew about that–his feeling–is just sad at this point. michael was right, he is hopelessly, pathetically, desperately in love with you. for years now.

he knew he loved you eversince he saw your freckled face blushed under the australian heat, helmet in your hand 20 years ago as you listen to your father explaining how you can improve your turns and how you should control your kart well.

he loved you eversince you introduce yourself, voice cocky and proud after winning the carting session. "(y/n) brabham, and i will be an f1 driver." he remember what you said as you walk towards him and he was stunned, just silently watching as you walk away from him, your ponytail swaying left and right.

he loved you eversince you give him a can of cold soda, putting the can on his cheek. he jumped, flinching at the sudden cold sensation on his cheek. and that was the first time he heard your–oh so cute–cackles.

he loved you eversince he found you hiding away out of the karting field, sitting alone on the grass. he saw how your back was trembling, so he sat down with you. "i will never be a driver. i will never be enough." you said, wiping your tears as you lean into his left shoulder. and daniel listen to the voice of your soft sobs, letting his race suit wet from the tears.

he loved you. still love you. and will always love you. desperately so that it hurts him whenever you call him your bestbuddy ever or whenever he listen how you cry after unlucky relationship with some random man or when he went out on a date with some random girls, trying his best to burrow his feeling deep, which of course doesn't work.

just let me be your man, dammit.

so, daniel let out a deep shuddered breath as he sat down. his eyes landed on his phone that laying on the table, next to the report papers michael left for him.

should he call you?

he shakes his head, raising from his seat to walk towards his fridge. he took one of the bottled juice michael had prepared for him. he took the lid off as he empty the bottle in no time.

after throwing away the empty bottle, he shurg off his race suit, tossing it to the nearest chair.

he was halfway from taking his heat suit off of his body when his phone rang. its so embarassing how his head whipped quickly to his phone and how he struggle to just shrug his heat protector away.

"oh shit-"

he crashed, fall to the floor before quickly running for his phone. he accept the call, let out a wheezed air as he press the green button.

"hello?" he calmly said as he rub his elbow.

"hi danny, you busy?"

"no-no not at all. i was just chilling in my motor home. i have interview in 5 though. do you need something?" daniel finally sat down, this time on the floor.

he wait for your response as lay down, face facing the ceiling.

"oh. no, not at all. i just want to congratulate you on p5."

"you watch the race?"

"i always watch your race, maybe not in person, but i never missed your race."

and now daniel turn into 17 years old girl who got called by his crush, giggling and twirling his hairs. "really?" his voice squeak pathetically, so he clear his throat.

"yes, of course! i will always support my best buddy no matter what, even if it from afar."

oh.

yeah, bestfriend.

ouch.

"aww, geez. thanks, brabham. i knew you're in love with me."

"hah! you wish, ricciardo! anyway-"

"yeah?"

"you're doing great sweetheart. do not forget who you are and what you capable of. keep your chin up, bigman."

daniel smile slowly creeping back on his face. he can feel how flushed his face right now.

"thank you, (y/n)."

"you are most welcome, honeybadger. bite 'em okay?"

he turn his body so that he's laying on his side. he used his left arm as a pillow.

"can i bite you instead?"

silence. daniel held his breath, biting his bottom lips as he wait for your answer. and when he about to apologize, daniel heard you clearing your throat.

"alright pump the brake romeo. anyways, i will leave you be now. i'm gonna catch some sleep here. talk to you later, ricciardo."

"alrighty, cheers, brabham."

and the call end just like that. and daniel feel silly. he pull his phone closer to his face, gently hitting his forehead with it.

"you stupid boy..." he said to himself.

but he can't help it, he wished that you're here with him. god how he want to hug you right now. even better, kiss you right now.

"oi, danny! we need to go now!" one of the pr team shouted as he knocked the door.

"yeah! coming! just gimme a sec!"

meanwhile, you on the other side, had to stop and do a manual breathing after the call. you're slapping your face with both your hands as you watch your reflection on the mirror.

"bro pull yourself together! he is your bestfriend!"

"can i bite you instead?"

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

you let out a scream as you recall what he said to you. his deep voice haunted you–making you both dizzy and anxious (in a good way). no, definitely not. you can't! panicking, you get up from your seat as you pacing around the room.

"that bastard."

prev next

[myloveforhergoeson]

i'd love to read some good ol' hockey romance novels but idk where to start lol; would you happen to have any recommendations? (it's totally cool if not!!)

YES OMG ok but something you must understand about me is that all of my book recommendations come exclusively from booktok or instagram so please take this with a grain of salt. i like them dumb, stupid, cliche, and smutty!

i am very new to the hockey romance genre, so i only have two books that i have read as of now to recommend, but i've got three on my to be read list so i can talk about those too <3

the one i just finished is called behind the net by stephanie archer and friend... god... i thought this one was just going to be just like pwp but there was plot and it was good and had me actually shocked something so interesting popped up in this book bc i had expected something completely different. it centers around jamie, a hockey player (goalie) for a fake team called the vancouver storm who trades his life playing for a team in new york to move home and take care of his mother after a series of mental health crises. he's a bit mean, a little arrogant, but he is mostly and above all... say it with me... MISUNDERSTOOD. god i eat this shit up. his counterpart is a young woman named pippa who just got out of a pretty one sided (read: slightly emotionally abusive) relationship with the only guy she'd ever dated. her ex is a pretty famous musician and it's her dream to write and record her own album one day, but after the break up and a little bit of a traumatic experience with her ex and his manager, she's not quite sure that's the right choice for her. she's very sweet, determined, and overall someone i found to be a very interesting character. anyway, she ends up as his assistant, chaos ensues, things happen that i won't spoil, but i enjoyed it very much.

(he calls her songbird a lot and though i do not have the claim on the pet name every time he said it my mind immediately went rames rames rames rames like a dog chasing after a squirrel)

i've got a little journal where i keep track of all the books i'm reading and i gave it a 3/5 stars on quality of writing, 5/5 stars on the strength of the characters, and a 4/5 on the plot. and my own extra rating, 4/5 on the spice scale

also! the author is writing a series that includes other members of the team and some minor characters from the first novel! the next one comes out in a few days and i can't wait to pick it up!

the first book i read out of the hockey romance genre is a book called icebreaker by hannah grace - this one was pretty popular when it came out and many people have many opinions on it. here are my own which are very general because i read it almost a year ago

the summary of the book is a little misleading, the main conflict is supposed to revolve around the captain of a fake college hockey team (nate) and a figure skater (anastasia) who's shooting for olympic gold having to share an ice rink after the one the figure skaters use is put out of commission. long story short, anastasia blames nate, but they're put in a bit of a forced proximity situation that lasts like... five chapters max. the rest is them figuring out their feelings for each other yada yada which is fine and i enjoyed but it was not what i thought the book would mainly be about. so, personal warning there lol. this one is a bit closer to pwp, but both of them have goals they want to accomplish and they help each other through that. i liked stassie a lot and found her to be an interesting character - watching her fall for nate was very sweet and i think i would have enjoyed it even more if i really liked him. he was just kind of mid to me with his only two personality traits being rich and team captain. but also, as a college student myself, i liked the atmosphere of the school they attended, the dynamic between stassie and the other players on the team as she slowly got to know them, and the way both nate and stassie worked to better themselves in order to be with each other!

in my journal i gave the quality of writing 3/5, the strength of the characters a 3/5 and the plot a 2/5 (it would have been 4/5 but i HATED the epilogue. if you read this book do not read the epilogue your life will be so much better without it) and my own special 3/5 on the spice scale

this one is also a series involving the other players on the team! the second book came out a few months ago and i'm planning to read it soon. it's been sitting on my shelf for ages.

i would recommend behind the net over icebreaker, but both were enjoyable to me!

on my hockey romance tbr:

the graham effect by elle kennedy

wildfire by hannah grace

the fake out by stephanie archer

but, i am a well-rounded (romance) reader so if you'd like to know my favs or other books im reading or like reviews just lmk... i'm slowly turning this blog into one where i just share whatever i want instead of it being focused toward my story LOL

[collecting-stories]

Debut - Topper Thornton

Request: hi I love ur writing!! would u be willing to write a kook!reader x topper imagine with some fluff? thanks!!

A/N: totally stole inspiration for this from Gilmore Girls except Topper’s less of a dick than Dean in this.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

If you were being entirely honest with yourself, even though the kook academy was small and essentially forced everyone to be in the same friend group, you’d never really paid much attention to Topper. He seemed smart enough, he got good grades and had tangible life goals that he’d mentioned more than a couple of times during senior breakfasts on Fridays. Even at eighteen he just seemed oddly put together, as if he’d managed to figure out his whole life before he even graduated high school. He wasn’t the type of person you hung out with but he was the type of person who would undoubtedly impress your grandmother.

“What do you want me to do?”

“The island club is hosting the debut in two weeks and I’m supposed to have like…a chaperone,” you put one hand up to air quote the word, your other still holding firm to the iced latte you’d gotten that morning.

“And you want me to chaperone you?” He said the word like he was trying out a foreign language and wasn’t entirely sure how to pronounce it.

“You wear a fancy tux and you stand at the bottom of a staircase and I walk down and you take my hand and do a weird giving away ceremony thing with my dad, who is flying in from Paris for this nonsense, and then we dance and then its over and we go home.” You summarized.

Topper looked like he might genuinely be thinking about it for a couple of minutes before he looked back to you, “why are you asking me to do this?”

A good point, you were almost hoping he’d just agree. Or that you had rehearsed some long-winded, albeit fake, story about how much you had a crush on him and could he do this one thing for you. He would, you knew that, because it’d stroke his ego, even if the probability of Topper Thornton looking twice at you was one to a million.

Instead, you just vomited out the usual word salad, trying to string together your thoughts, “because it’s like this big thing and everybody from around the region goes and my mom has been on some weird pineapple diet for three weeks in preparation for just attending and I have this poofy white dress that looks like I’m getting married and she’d be super impressed if you went with me, you actually seem like you know what you’re doing a majority of the time.

“So I wear a tux?” He finally said, watching your gulp down coffee and try to breath in a steady rhythm.

“Yeah.” You nodded, almost too eager that he was seemingly agreeing to go with you to this dumb charade of an event. “Yes.”

“Alright,” Topper nodded, “on one condition.”

You wanted to throw a mini tantrum, of course any guy who was friends with Rafe Cameron was going to be annoying enough to attach conditions to a favor. “What is it?”

“You have to let me take you on an actual date first, before this debut shit,” he replied. “I mean, we barely know each other, let me take you to dinner.”

“You know,” you pointed out, though you had no choice but to agree or ask someone else, “you say ‘let me’ like it’s a question but if I say no you won’t go…so isn’t that more like blackmail?”

“I’ll still go. I just wanna take you on a date first.”

“Then it’s not a condition.” You argued.

“Yes or no?” Topper almost laughed at your persistence, silencing filing away that you liked to argue. To argue, to drink lattes that were so light they looked like pure cream, and talk fast when you had a lot to say.

“Yes.” You agreed. He was harmless, a little on the boring side if you believed Sarah Cameron, and it wouldn’t kill you to do something that wasn’t school or debut related for one day. “When exactly is this date happening?”

“I’ll text you,” he promised when the bell rang to signal the last period. You had study hall so you could leave early but he had baseball practice in the other direction.

“Don’t you need my number?” You asked, calling after his back as he walked down the hallway.

He stopped, turned back briefly and shook his head, “I still have it from seventh grade, when we did that model earth project for the science fair.”

Seventh grade, you’d nearly forgotten the last time you had poached Topper for something that you didn’t want to suffer through with someone else. He’d been absent the day the teacher let everyone choose a partner and you’d asked her to put your name down on the board next to his. She’d taken the gesture as you being thoughtful but honestly it was just that he was good at science and you wanted an advantage. After the project was over you both seemed to regress back into your own friend groups but during he’d been alright. You spent whole afternoons at each other’s houses and poured a good amount of your angsty thirteen year old soul out to him over shared bags of Doritos.

“Right, almost forgot about that,” you replied, somewhat embarrassed that you had actually forgotten.

Topper only smiled and then turned away from you again, walking down the hall toward the locker rooms. You lingered until you were the last person in the hallway, finally heading to the office to sign out for the rest of the day.

When Topper had asked you out, or coerced you into a date, you hadn’t really felt any kind of nervousness. You could remember when he’d asked Sarah out, how excitedly she’d talked to Scarlett about it and how she recounted every detail while she sat in front of you in homeroom. You’d thought she was kind of ridiculous for getting so worked up but once the initial moment was over and you’d had the afternoon to dwell on the question, you felt yourself starting to sink into that rabbit hole.

You tried, in vain, to remind yourself that this was just Topper Thornton. Preppy, self-assured, vying for everyone’s attention, Topper Thornton who would probably end up married to some boho influencer with the burning desire to do her own Eat, Pray, Love. He was not the type of guy that you should’ve been nervous to go on a date with because it was just a business transaction. You needed someone who looked good in a tux and would impress your family to stand at the bottom of a staircase while you tried not to kill your self in a puffy white dress that cost more than a wedding gown.

There was no reason to be nervous.

But there you were, up in your room before the decided upon date and you were a bundle of unprocessed nerves trying to lamaze breathe through your anxiety as you buttoned your jeans. Your mom was buzzing downstairs, you could already hear her whisper-shouting to your dad about the car in the driveway and who was walking up to the door.

And your dad just shouting back, “what?” After every semi-muted sentence.

“Can you not? Mom, you look like such a creep!” You huffed when you finally came downstairs and saw her, standing at the window with the curtain pulled back so she could peek out.

“Are you going on a date?” She’d been on your back about your dating life since you turned thirteen and your next-door neighbor's daughter got a ‘boyfriend’.

“Yes,” you grabbed your house keys and your bag, trying your hardest to get to the door before Topper. “I really have to go.”

“Invite him inside.”

“What? No, mom-“ before you could finish your sentence the doorbell chimed through the house and your mother pushed passed you to get the door, every nerve in your body tending at the exact same second.

She swung the door open like it was publisher’s clearing house and not an eighteen year old boy on the other side, smiling so wide she looked almost like she was faking it. “Topper Thornton.” She announced, “come inside.”

With little choice, he stepped over the threshold, briefly making eye contact with you over your mom’s shoulder as she guided him further into the entryway.

“Ma’am,” he sounded like such a polite southern boy when he spoke, you were almost happy your mom pulled him in. It would sell whatever lie you wanted her to believe about the debut. “I’d love to come in, we’ve got reservations though-“

“Oh gosh, of course!” She nodded, “you both have a wonderful time, it was such a shame you stopped hanging out, I’m so glad to see you rekindling some of that.” She talked like you were a divorced couple dating again and you remembered exactly why you’d cut off contact with him.

Seventh grade and dating had been synonymous with your mom and right when she’d begun to ask about anyone you had over the house, you’d started to have Topper over. At first it was just little questions here and there, they seemed benign and you didn’t think she was trying to cook anything up by asking if you liked him over and over. But you caught on slowly, realizing that she was already marrying you off to him in her head and you felt uncomfortable even looking at him.

“I’m so sorry about her, she’s certifiable.” You reasoned, getting into the passenger side of Topper’s car.

He shrugged, starting the car and putting his hand on the passenger seat head rest as he leaned to look behind him, “it’s not a big deal, parents love me.”

“Of course they do,” you rolled your eyes at his somewhat self assured tone, annoyed that minutes earlier you’d been fretting through your closet like a love sick romcom actor. “So this date is for…”

“If you’re gonna parade me around in front of your parents for a day I think it’s only fair you pay me back for it.” He replied, the sudden realization dawning that he’d only driven the short distance from your house to his.

“Oh, you play dirty Thornton,” you huffed, eyeing the modern looking beach front mansion as he pulled into the horseshoe mansion. “Well parents love me too.”

Topper looked almost surprised by your comment before smiling at you, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” He replied.

You followed Topper to the front door of his house, trying to take deep breaths as you prepared for dinner with his family. Your own mom was overbearing and awful but Dr. Thornton made her look like a walk in the park. To be fair, you’d only met Topper’s mom twice, once when you had gone over his house instead of him going to yours, and once more at the actual science fair. She was critical, rude, and demeaning, even to a thirteen year old.

“I still remember when we were in seventh grade...” you mentioned, standing at the front door with Topper before he opened it, “your mom was a bitch to me because I ate three cookies off that platter she had in the kitchen. Told me I didn’t need three.”

“Well, tonight will probably be a lot like that.” He replied, flashing you a phony smile.

“Awesome, thanks Top.”

Once the door opened to the Thornton house and you actually went inside, the whole evening felt like a blur. You were pretty much positive that the moment you sat down at the dinner table with his family (and it was his whole family, grandparents included) that your brain just shut off and you survived the night in auto-pilot, smiling politly and nodding when it was socially acceptable for you to do so. Every once in a while, Topper squeezed your hand and brought you back to reality but otherwise you were on cruise control.

Dr. Thornton got in a couple of digs at Topper, complaining about a lower grade on a test that you knew he’d gotten a 98 on. Even if you’d only met her twice though, you knew how miserable Dr. Thornton was and the couple of times you’d witnessed Topper being a dick, you actually felt a little sorry for him. Tonight, you were just annoyed though. You knew that technically this was on par with dragging him to a debut where he had to suffer through a night with your family but you would also be suffering. This didn’t seem like equal punishment because most of the time he actually looked like he was enjoying himself some of the time.

“This is terrible,” you whispered, once you’d moved into the parlor area for ‘after dinner drinks’. His mom offered you club soda or water but nothing else. You sat on the loveseat, squashed beside Topper while his grandfather talked politics. “This is worse than a debut, I can’t believe you’re making me sit through this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this is great,” Topper joked, leaning in close to you. He reached his arm over the back of the small sofa and against your shoulders.

“We have very different definitions of great.” You replied.

You weren’t sure exactly when it happened but somewhere during dinner and dessert you stopped seeing Topper as purely a means to an end. He wasn’t just the person who would most impress your parents and grandparents if you dressed him up in a tuxedo and paraded him around a banquet hall. He was that kid from seventh grade who made you laugh so hard you almost fell down the stairs on the way to lunch. Who didn’t talk about sports and college plans and working out like there was nothing beyond that in life.

By the time the debut came around, you were actually looking forward to it. Not the dress, or the forced awkward dancing and dinner, but seeing Topper. You almost felt nervous, like you were anticipating it. When you’d asked Topper to help you there hadn’t really been any feelings behind the request. You wouldn’t even say that it was a platonic ask because you didn’t really feel like friends. It was just a business transaction. But now you were checking yourself in the mirror over and over, wondering if the ribbing of the corset top looked good and if your hair made sense with the dress.

One of the other debutantes was kicking back mini fireballs that she’d stashed under her dress but you were too nervous to even drink alcohol. All you could imagine was tripping down the stairs and planting face first into the landing and everyone laughing and your family being totally embarrassed.

“Shit.” You cursed, hands on your hips as you took the biggest breath you could with the cramp in your side. You could do this.

“You alright?” One of the sober girls, still fixing her hair in the mirror even though it looked the same as when she started, looked your way with concern. “I got a xanax if you want one?”

“No, I’m just kinda nervous...about the whole, dancing and whatever.” You waved your hand as if you were waving away the thought.

“You and your boyfriend didn’t practice?” She asked.

Of course, you’d practiced. Topper had been nice enough to actually practice with you, even though that was not technically part of the agreement in the first place and which he told you would have to be paid back in some way. “Oh yeah, we did.” You replied, casting a glance to the doors, “I’ll be right back...uh, watch my stuff?”

“Sure.” She was already back to fixing her hair as you walked into the hallway, the door falling shut behind you.

Some of the guys were in the hall, mingling awkwardly as they waited to be told to take their spot and somehow you felt like a bride before her wedding. The poofy white dress didn’t help, or the nerves in your stomach. If the corset wasn’t so tight, you would’ve exhaled in relief when you saw Topper standing near the stairs.

“Top,” you whisper-shouted across the way and hurried over to him, placing a hand on his arm for support.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready?” He asked, eyes wandering over your body.

Unconsciously, you stood a little straighter as you moved him away from the rest of the crowd milling about, “I’m just feeling fluttery or something. I don’t know.” Why did your think Topper would make you feel better? Because you’d finally felt your heart stop racing when you’d seen him this morning, coffee and croissant for you.

“You need me to get you anything?” He looked genuinely like he would be willing to go find whatever you could possibly request and bring it to you.

“No, I just-“ you struggled to articulate the reason you’d come out here to find him in the first place. Sure, in the beginning he’d just been a pretty face to parade around for your parents but by the time he was dropping you off after dinner at his house, something had changed in you and you weren’t sure what it was. You felt like that thirteen year old kid again, crushing on her science partner but not wanting to make the same mistakes and push him away. “No, I just needed some air.”

“Hey it’ll be fine alright,” Topper promised, placing his hands on your bare arms. Your skin was warm from worrying and the stuffy room you’d been getting ready in. “Just down the stairs and then it’s practically over.”

“Easy for you to say.” You huffed, “I’m being paraded around like a pig at a fair and I forced you to endure it with me.”

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to.” He reasoned, “trust me.”

“Topper,” you said his name like you were trying to force honesty out of him. As if you were saying ‘I don’t believe you’ without outright saying it to him.

He looked amused by the annoyance in your voice. “I still think about seventh grade and hanging out with you every day. Sometimes I’d see you at school or around the OBX and I’d think, man what’s a guy gotta do to get her attention. And then you were coming up to me out of nowhere asking to do this. I only asked you to go to my parents dinner because I wanted to spend more time with you but I didn’t think you’d like an actual date.”

“I would actually, like a date.” You admitted, feeling less awkward then you should have standing there in what amounted to a wedding dress. “I would’ve gone on a date with you.”

“After this, I’ll take you out,” he agreed, smug as he smiled at you.

“Directly after this?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Topper offered. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, “get back in there before you get in trouble.”

“Okay.” You nodded, a little more lightheaded than before, if you could describe it that way. It felt like floating on clouds.

“I’ll see you at the bottom of the stairs,” he promised, somehow easing all the tension you’d been feeling before. You nodded again, kissed his cheek, and ran off in the direction of the dressing room.

-

Taglist: @maybankbby @alanniys @stylesyourmine @nicolee-anne @dudenhaaa27 @alexoberlinluthor @luversgirl @lemur46 @mariahlaufeyson @beth-gallagher22 @swagmoneydrew @xivilivix @americaarse @scenesofobx @pankowsfruitsnacks @alexademiesluvr @butterflymoons @maneskindiva @allisonxmcu @milkiane @inwonderlandwritemealetter @phxntom-2021 @iamasimpingh0e @aureamelendez @unbelievablystillafangirl @caitlyn-winchester @truewdw1 @randomwriter1021 

[thebatfamfanatic]

Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

1-

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

2-

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

3-

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

4-

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

5-

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

6-

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.

[sacredsorceress]

Anchor || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: when you become upset with bucky for going on a mission behind your back, a fight ensures and you learn why your husband has always been so protective of you

a/n: reblogs and replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 1.0k

warnings: angst, swearing, fighting

masterlist || request || taglist

“How do you not see why I’m pissed, Buck?” You shouted from the opposite side of the living room. “You went on a mission without me- better yet- without fucking telling me.”

Bucky knew as soon as he had done it that he would never hear the end of it. He had known you long enough- if you could consider ninety years long enough- to know that you absolutely hated when he kept things a secret from you. It wasn’t anything knew. Even when you all were younger and you were just Steve’s “punk sister” you would tell the both of them off for leaving you out of their fun.

But things had changed. 

Bucky didn’t just mess around by stealing penny candies from the store with Steve anymore, but by risking his life fighting against bad guys that would be beyond your wildest nightmares eighty years ago.

Although you had survived in ice along with your brother, been given the super soldier serum and had fought alongside Steve long before you both had even found out that your husband and Steve’s best friend was alive, Bucky still hated the idea of bringing you into his messes.

“Listen, it’s done, Y/n.” He told you firmly. “I’m done having this conversation. Just forget it. I’m home now.”

Sticking your tongue against your cheek you shook your head, throwing your hands up in the air.

“Just because you’ve decided that you don’t like how this conversation is going doesn’t mean it’s over.” You raised your voice at him. “When are you going to realize you don’t need to protect me, Buck? I’m not Steve’s little sister anymore! We’ve been married for eighty-two years and you still treat me like I’m this fragile little thing that needs protecting!”

“Because you do!” He exclaimed.

He knew realistically that you didn’t need his protecting anymore than he needed yours- you were strong, skilled, intelligent- you could handle yourself, but he also knew that no matter how good of a fighter you were, living a life like the two of yours meant that you were never truly safe and the worst could happen at any moment. 

Everything could change in the blink of an eye.

Your hands balling into fists at your sides, you paced across the room.

“No I don’t!” You shouted. “I don’t need protecting anymore than you do, Buck! I’m not the same person I was eighty fucking years ago- we’ve been through the same-”

Despite the fact he had been arguing with you the entire time, Bucky had managed not to raise his voice to the level you were, trying his best to remain calm, knowing he was in the wrong.

However, when you compared yourself to him, he pushed himself off of the couch, picking the familiar notebook up off of the table.

“You think we’ve been through the same shit? Do you really, Y/n?” He asked, shouting at you from his spot.

Straightening in your spot from his tone of voice you watched as he opened the notebook, flipping through the pages- full of names of those he had wronged.

“Look at this! Look at all these fucking names!” He said, throwing the book onto the floor. “I hurt people, Y/n! They made me a monster.”

Seeing the way he seethed and how his voice still cracked, giving away his pain despite his booming voice, your shoulders relaxed and your hands unraveled from the fists they were in, watching as the super soldier in front of you broke down.

“Buck-” You attempted to ease him.

“No!” He said, looking up at you and when you did you could finally see the tears in his eyes, betraying his firmness. “We didn’t go through the same things. I- I would rather go through it all again than you go through that, Y/n.”

“Bucky...” You cooed, still standing on the opposite side of the room.

“I can’t lose you. You’re all I have left of me.” He said. “You always get so mad that I’m protecting you, but I have to. I know you can handle yourself, doll. I know you’re not the same person I married eighty years ago, but neither am I. With Steve gone... you’re the only person left who knew me... you knows me. I don’t even know myself half the time. I need you. I can’t lose you, especially not for some dumb fucking mission. I know this sounds so fucking selfish but a part of me is glad you and Steve got iced because I can’t imagine going through this without you. You make me human.”

Hearing sobs escape his mouth by the end, you pushed yourself out of your spot and over to your husband, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest. You felt his arms tightly wrap around your body, feeling his fingers dig into your shirt as he pulled you as close to him as possible. Running your hands up and down his back as your head rose and fell with each of his sobs, you hushed him.

“It’s okay, Buck.” You said softly. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m okay. You’re okay.”

Hearing his breathing steady and his grip on your shirt loosen, you pulled away from him, cupping his face in your hands.

“I know a lot happened and we can’t go back and change it,” You told him, brushing the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks away with your thumbs. “But no matter what, you’ve always been mine, okay Barnes? No amount of brainwashing or super soldier serum can change that.”

Leaning into your touch, he closed his eyes, nodding.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, my love.” You told him. “Just know we’re in this together okay? Til’ death do us part and all?”

Chuckling remembering how you called that line cheesy on your wedding day, he opened his eyes, a hint of a smile gracing his face.

“Yeah, doll.” He said. “Til’ death do us part."

[makeste]

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

um

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

[icantspeakspanish]

Being Seijoh‘s queer manager - Headcanons

Ship: Platonic!Oikawa x Platonic!Reader / Platonic!Iwaizumi x Platonic!Reader / Platonic!Hanamaki x Platonic!Reader / Platonic!Matsukawa x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: actually none. It’s just fluff and maybe the 3rd years flipping of some mean people

masterlist

A/n: I recently can’t stop thinking about headcanons to that, so enjoy I guess🕳🚶

Coming out to them

Oikawa Tooru

Okay listen

Oikawa pays SO MUCH attention to his friends

Like, if you’re looking at a person longer than u look at other people, this mf will notice that right then and there

Don’t worry, he wont just point that out

Maybe he‘ll drop some dumb comments like the dumb clown he is, but he wont spill anything

Oikawa is going to be more observing

One day you just hang out with him

and this shithead has a fucking plan

I do not kid you when I‘m telling u he has a whole maSTERPLAN??😀

both of you are on your own phone, you scrolling though Instagram liking memes about ur closeted sexuality and laughing inside, I see you

Then Oikawa plays on purpose one song

„Me and your girlfriend playin' dress up at my house..“

You immediately freeze

🎶👹Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious👹🎶

You literally try so hard to sent a gaze on Oikawas phone without him noticing

LMFAO NOT U FAILING

Anyways

You see in the upper corner of your eye how Oikawa is grinning SO BOLD AT YOU BYE

Brb, just getting a tomato to complain it to your face❤️

Tbh, he wasn’t even sure till you turned red like there ain’t no other choice

You just acted obvious as fU-

Oikawa will deadass laugh at your confused face, but then hug you

„Why didn’t you say anything? I could‘ve get you a significant other so much earlier???“

Slap him pls

After you tell him that you just felt really anxious or something like that, Oikawa will hug you again

He will tell you that he loves you no matter what and that he‘s sure the team will too

Oikawa will absolutely get you like a pride flag to surprise you

He‘s so proud of you and happy you told him🥺

Oikawa will literally look in public out for a partner for u 💀

Put a leash on that piece of crap, or I will

If you’re part of the asexual spectrum, Oikawa will make sure no one is making you uncomfortable and to know your boundaries about jokes, touching, etc.

Will text u things like

„Y/N PLEASE DON‘T TELL ME U DATE THEM?? IS U BLIIIIIIND?????!“

Hit him

„If you have to reject this dipshit one more time, I‘ll let Iwaizumi and Kyiotani go WiLD😐“

Love him

„If you wont make a move on them, I will🤨“

Throw him off a bridge

Oikawa is always going to be there for you, ready to let his fangirls flip off everyone who just looks the wrong way at you

He just loves you and wants u to be happy🥺

HE‘S STILL RUDE ASHSDJDN

Iwaizumi Hajime

Iwa isn’t suspecting anything

Sure, he cares about you, but he doesn’t care about which gender u love

He doesent think that is any of his business, he just wants u to be happy and treaten well and taken care of

Pls I love him

since Iwaizumi wont suspect anything, you’ll have to make the first move into this conversation.

So when you and Iwa walk home after practice it seems like the perfect time

You don’t know how to start, so you sorta just blurt that shit out

„Iwaizumi?“

„What‘s up?“

„I‘m ____“

„Okay.“

Your legs stop moving

You look at him like 👁👄👁

he be having the audacity to stop walking and ask you what’s wrong

„Did you understand what I just said?“

„Yeah, why?“

Y/n.exe stopped working

„WHY DO YOU JUST SAY „OKAY“ LIKE A FOOL?!“

„EXCUSE ME?“

Iwaizumi.exe crashed too

„What else am I supposed to say?! You’re my friend, I don’t care which gender you having sex with!“

He ain’t good with words I‘m sorry🧑‍🦯

Will ruffle you’re hair and tell you not to worry, he can beat up any gender😩👌

I actually don’t think he‘d ask you questions. He doesen’t want to make you uncomfortable and just googles about it if there’s anything he doesen’t understand. Iwaizumi is actually pretty invested and wants to learn about your sexuality since one of his closest friends just came out to him.

If anyone is being rude to you, Iwaizumi will pop off

If he’s shopping or smth like that and sees something with pride colors / your flag colors, he will buy that and give it to you

Definitely ready to beat up anyone who tries to insult you because of your sexuality

Radiates big protective dad energy and wants to meet your partner before y’all go out

Iwa just wants you to stay safe

10/10 would recommend marriage 💯

Hanamaki Takahiro

„Are you gay?“

You look pale into his face

„whAT?!“

LMFAO I‘D BE CONFUSED TOO

„Is that a yes?“

„MAKKI!“

I don‘t even know why, but he would definitely know

Not your sexuality EXACTLY, but he knows you ain’t straight

Makki also uses that as an explanation and tells you you didn’t looked hetero from the start

Excuse you-

He‘s just a natural i guess

You tell him then what your actual sexuality is and Hanamaki is so chill about it

Will smile at you and tell you that he‘s proud of you and maybe apologizing for blurting that shit out of the blue

If someone is making you uncomfortable in anyway, Hanamaki will hunt them down to make them apologize

he will sent you some lgbtq+ memes and capture it with „That reminds me of u“

Matsukawa Issei

Hear me out

He makes jokes often

and since you (as seijohs manager) hang out with them often, both of you joke often

like y’all have some insiders, you give joking answers to his jokes

so when you and Mattsun went out to get drinks, he was joking as usual

„He/she’d be a great fiancé. dont you think?“

U look in the direction he’s pointing and see a friend group who’s chatting

„Naaah. His/her friend looks hotter“

u actually said that without thinking and as soon as you realize u started to blush and look to him

Matsukawa still looks into that direction.

„you’re right, they got that dumptruck“ BYE

„Matsukawa Issei, I knew youre an ass dude!“

pls y’all are so casual

after that he asks you if you meant that and really are interested in this gender

„wait that’s ___, right?“

you nod a bit surprised because you didn’t expect him to know the name of your sexuality

WOULD SENT YOU MEMES TOO AND ASK PEOPLE OUT FOR YOU BYE

Matsukawa looks intimidating like Iwaizumi, but he‘d joke around with your date tbh

but if they’re being shitty to you, Matsukawa won’t hesitate to sent them to hell

as long as they won’t hurt you physically, he will make so mean jokes, always pick a fight with them and is SO sarcastic towards them💀

mattsun also made you a playlist with like pride songs

Going to a Pride parade with them!!

OIKAWA IS SO EXCITED JABSNFBXB

He will absolutely wear a pride flag and be SO proud

he‘ll tries to make some friends for you so you have some people who‘re like you

hes a dumbass, sorry<\3

when you ask Iwaizumi to come with you and the team, he will firstly act annoyed and like he doesen’t want to go but Oikawa drags him anyway dw

if there’s like rainbow ice he will buy it for you what a sugar daddy

Iwaizumi will act annoyed and bored for most of the time, but as soon as you look two seconds away from him and turn back around, this men has rainbow flags on both of his cheeks🥺

someone also gave him a small pride flag and he’s swinging it since then the entire time GOD I‘M SO DOWN FOR SOFT IWAIZUMI PLEASE

some guys talked to him because they thought he’s 💅🏻 and hot and Oikawa let out a scream BAHAHA

Iwa explained himself so politely tho<3

Hanamaki found SO MANY FRIENDS GOODBYE

ofc he and matsukawa bought this thing with what you can draw those rainbow flags on your cheeks and they put it on Oikawas, yours, Iwaizumis and their own face

actually they have now rainbowflags all over their body because they think they look cool🧚‍♀️

and they will protect you from creeps <3

remember when I said Mattsun made a playlist for you? Oikawa‘s blasting that shit and dancing to it ofc he danced with you duh

after that day, Hanamaki changed y’all’s gc name to „y/n‘s protection squad“

[princessphilly]

Tag list:  Tag list:  @ohpuckyeah, @joelsfarabee, @besthockeyfics. @dreamer1430 @defiant-mouse @miracleonice87 @lovethepreds @linkingdolans @chicagostylehockey @heatherlcrosby87 @hockeywocs @shortstacks-blog @heatherawoowoo @newlibrary @markymarkstrom @iangiemae @puckbitchesgetmoney @missymore @himbos-on-ice @fiveholegoal @no-pucks-given @pagirl6866 @willieshakesqueer @nazdaddy @whatishockey @alphalib22 @romanseggy @laurenairay @konecny-s @cutiesara23 @myhockeyworld87 @extratragic @squidlywiddly87 @stuff4me2do @allinangel93 @mydarkestsecretlol @t0xickisses2 @nhlboyshavemyhart88​  @tangercrosbyschultzfan25887

Join the tag list here!

CW: Angst, angst, angst. 

Word count: 2916

Nina sighed as she snuggled her pillow. It sucked watching Sidney shake hands in the handshake line, the disappointing end to a good season. She sniffled as she watched Sidney stoically shake hands with the Flyers, disappointment and anger on his face.

This season, the Penguins had drawn the Islanders in the divisional semi-finals. After a hard-fought seven game series, the Pens had finally got past the Isles. However, the Flyers, surprisingly, made it past the Canes and the Battle of Pennsylvania was on. Unlike 2018, the Flyers won this time, in five games. Nina put her phone on vibrate, just in case Sidney called her.

However, Sidney didn’t call that night or for a fucking week. Nina was understanding at first but understanding turned into annoyance when pictures were posted of Sidney golfing with Kasperi, Brandon, and a couple of the single players. Nina just was glad she had the foresight to limit comments on her IG to approved commenters because she had no interest in people asking questions about him.

Scrolling her phone, Nina read a text from Marisa: has he called u yet?

No, Nina simply responded. She wasn’t going to call him first either. Let him have his bitch fit and golf. He didnt tell me he was going to go do that n im not his wife.

Nina’s phone rang and she answered. “Yes, Marisa?”

“Oh, Nina, he’s a douchebag. I can ask Kevin to slash him a couple of times next season,” Marisa commiserated.

Nina replied, “He hasn’t called me or texted me since that night. I haven’t tried to call him since Sunday because fuck that. I know he got his superstitions and everything but, no. Hell no.”

“I agree. Have you been out?”

Nina shook her head before saying, “I was finishing finals so I haven’t been out. Karesha told me we’re going out this coming Friday and, you know I don’t party like that but I will.”

“Give him something to miss,” Marisa advised.

Nina scoffed, “Something to miss? He’s lucky if I let him talk to me whenever he gets back.”

**

Sid groaned as he turned in his bed in Cole Harbour. He was so fucking pissed about the way the season ended; they finally got past the Isles only to get tripped up by fucking Giroux and his Flyers. Fucking Hart was a damn brick wall and fuck, Sidney could sense that his time in the game was coming to a swift close soon. For the past week and in a half, he had been in a funky snit, annoyed and needing to be away after golfing with the boys.

At the same time, he felt like shit. Sidney knew he shouldn’t have avoided Nina’s call; he was still raw from the loss and he didn’t want to expose Nina to that side. But, she hadn’t called or texted him since and Sidney didn’t know how to break the silence that he had created. Picking up his phone, Sidney blinked when he saw all of the messages on his lock screen. The team’s group chat had been busy last night.

Unlocking his phone, Sidney’s eyes bulged when he saw the messages. There were pictures of Nina out, with one of her friends, wearing a dress that was barely there. Her hair was falling straight over her shoulders but what really got Sidney’s attention was the fact that there were guys all around her. Then Nate sent a text; i guess ur single now. Told u not to go home without talking to her

“I’m a fuck up,” Sidney moaned.

“Yup, you are.”

Sidney blinked as he looked at his phone. He managed to call Tanger and Tanger didn’t look pleased.

“Sid, we’ve been friends for a long time but, I didn’t think you were this stupid,” Tanger scolded. “Really?”

“You know with the way the season ended,” Sidney began before Tanger cut him off.

“Nina knows that. She respects that. Nina’s not clingy or needy like some of the other girls. But, Cath told me you haven’t even called or texted her? Wow, Sid, wow.”

Sidney blushed as he listened to one of his closest friends berate him. Tanger was right. But how was he going to even apologize without looking like a bigger dummy?

“Well, you’re already acting like a dummy, Sid, so you might as well look like a bigger dummy,” Tanger snarked. “Nina isn’t like the other girls. She doesn’t need you.”

Sid gritted his teeth at that statement, especially since he knew that it was very true.

Sidney heard French yelling in the background before Tanger stated, “Cath thinks that despite being so good at hockey, you suck at being a person. And you made Nina cry when Cath last talked to her.”

Sidney wanted to slap himself. He made his pretty girl cry. “Fuck,” he yelled.

“Yeah, fuck. Fix it, Sid, instead of fucking yourself over forever.”

Sidney scrolled his phone after Tanger hung up on him. It looked like he was flying into Pittsburgh asap.

**

Nina sighed as she padded in her apartment. Last night was fun, going out with Karesha. They had just gone out to dinner, a jazz lounge, then ended the night at a rooftop bar. Nina knew people had been taking pictures of her all night and that people were wondering where Sidney was but that wasn’t her problem. There had been plenty of guys willing to take her home but Nina wasn’t interested in any of them either. She still wanted Sidney but fuck him too.

Her doorbell rang and Nina looked at the panel. It was Sidney with a pastry box and a wide grin on his face. Nina opened the door with a smile.

“Hi, pretty girl-”

Then she slammed it in his face, her grin growing wider as she loudly locked the door. Just like a man, coming back right when they realized she was getting attention from other men.

“Go away, Crosby, unless you want attention because you’re knocking on my door,” Nina yelled from the inside. Putting her earpods in, Nina cleaned her apartment for the umpteenth time, singing along.

Sidney gritted his teeth outside of Nina’s apartment. He was expecting her to let him in, yell at him, then he would charm his way back in. He didn’t expect to get the door slammed in his face and being told to leave. His desire not to gain extra attention was the only reason he left.

Nina sighed when she heard Sidney stomp away. Her anger was starting to change to sadness, again. She had hoped this would be different but Sidney was just like every other man; ain’t shit at the end of the day.

**

“Take him for all his cash, girl. Then tell him, maybe I'll take you back.”

Nina rolled her eyes as she listened to Jamila. “For someone so wealthy, you sure like to talk about taking men for their cash.”

“It’s like this; men figure out their self-worth by how big their dick is, how many women they fuck, and how much money they have. You don’t want to go to jail so you can’t cut his dick off. So, fleece him and then dump him for good,” Jamila advised.

Nina sighed and Jamila groaned. “Oh my God, please don’t tell me you miss this dumbass. Dude didn’t contact you after losing in their playoffs! He ignored your call! He only contacted you in person after you and ‘Resha went out! The dick can’t be that good!”

Nina sighed as she listened to Jamila. Over the past couple of days, there had been Edible Arrangement deliveries, lunch bought for the staff, cards proclaiming that he was dumb as hell and sorry for being an idiot. And Nina still didn’t respond. No calls, no texts, Nina was still upset and feeling raw.

“Jamila.. Glass houses remember?”

Jamila sighed over the phone. She didn’t really have that much space to talk but she persisted, “You let him off easy, he’s going to walk all over you forever. I know I’m a fuck up but I never let a man walk all over me. Don’t let Mayo Boy, no, he’s Miracle Whip because that shit is disgusting and he hurt you. Don’t let Miracle Whip think he can apologize a couple times and you’ll come running back.”

“I haven’t made any decisions yet. Plus, I’m going away with Desi, Sio, Lauren, and Kim to Phuket. You know, that trip you helped plan but you can’t go on now,” Nina said as she logged into her workstation. Work had become a refuge of sorts. Everyone was pretty much professional, no one brought up anyone’s personal life. It was all about work and the patients and it made Nina happy. “I gotta go, I have a patient at 8:30.”

“Bye girl, and remember what I said,” Jamila replied.

“Byeeee”

Nina hung up and pulled her earpods out of her ears. It was time to focus on another day of work. Before Nina realized it, it was lunch time. Rubbing her temples, she sighed as she thought about lunch. Grabbing her purse and her keys, Nina made her way out of her office. “Rita, I’m going to get lunch,” Nina called out to the receptionist.

However, as soon as she left, Nina saw the infamous Range Rover in the parking lot and she closed her eyes. She wasn’t in the mood and it looked like it was going to get embarrassing for Sidney.

Luckily, it wasn’t Sidney who came out but someone totally different. Nina let out a breath she was holding and walked to her car. Her vacation was coming up in three days and she would be away for two and a half weeks. Sidney would probably leave her alone once he realized she was out of the country. Nina was sure of it, he had to have been icing her out to dump her anyway for the offseason.

**

“Still no call?”

Sidney sighed as Geno plopped in the chair across from his. He had put on his best smile today for Nikita’s birthday but he was feeling the strain.

“None,” he finally replied. Sidney felt so tired and such a fool. The best thing in his life had slipped out of his fingers and it was all his fault.

Geno snickered as Anna strolled in, holding a box. “Zhenya,” she asked before rolling her eyes at Sidney.

“Da,” Geno replied.

Anna started speaking rapid fire Russian, too fast for Sidney to even attempt to keep up. Geno started to laugh when Anna pointed to Sidney before pointing to the box. Then Anna abruptly turned on her heel and left the room.

Confused, Sidney asked, “What was that?”

Anna hadn’t been talking to him and Sidney felt like he was part of the subject of that conversation. Geno chuckled before replying, “Anna said that it’s a shame Nina isn’t here but she made sure to at least have a gift sent for Nikita before going to Thailand.”

Geno didn’t add the rest, which was Anna saying Nina had better manners than his captain, to at least send a gift that she didn’t have to send, before disappearing. He wasn’t interested in kicking his captain when he was down.

Sidney winced. Part of him felt a bit happy that Nina was somewhere, having fun but it was without him so it was his fault.

“Oh, look at this, Nina’s riding elephant,” Geno crowed as he looked at instagram. Sidney looked at the picture. Nina was riding an elephant, making some kind of triangle symbol with her hands. Then he looked at the comments and the first one said: look at you, dropping baggage and having fun.

Geno snickered before saying, “Poor Sid.”

“Not supportive, Geno,” Sidney remarked, closing his eyes.

There was a pause before Geno replied, “Maybe donate money to things Nina likes. Maybe she’ll talk to you when she gets back.”

**

Sidney checked his phone for what seemed like the umpteenth time. “Cros, she’s not going to text you.”

Sidney rolled his eyes at Tazer’s annoyed tone. Webs, Pricey, and Tanger laughed at him. They were all in Toronto together for a team Canada thing but that was over and they were out for drinks.

“Heard you fucked up, badly,” Webs stated in a dry tone. “When in doubt, always apologize first and buy the woman her favorite thing second.”

“Nina’s not big on buying stuff,” Sidney absentmindedly replied. Getting Nina to splurge on herself was like going to the dentist. It wasn’t fun.

One thing Sidney did realize from off and on monitoring Nina's Instagram was that she was big on helping out at the Greater Pittsburgh Community Food Bank, she liked volunteering at the Humane Animal Rescue of Pittsburgh, and every year, she volunteered at a pop-up shop for girls who wanted to go to prom but couldn’t afford it.

Sidney wrote five figure checks to each organization, in Nina’s name, no strings attached. Sidney was serious about trying to get his pretty girl back and he knew that Nina was serious about volunteering and giving back. Now, he was just waiting to see Nina’s reaction. If Nina told him thanks but it was over, Sidney would be upset but he could accept it.

There were no texts that night but that morning, Sidney woke up to a text from Nina. It was a simple thank you but it meant more than anything to Sidney at that moment.

**

Nina sighed as she looked at the thank you cards that had been waiting for her when she returned home. This was so out of the ordinary, she had to text Sidney when she saw them. It was more meaningful than gifts.

The trip to Phuket had been amazing but there had been a tinge of sadness for Nina. She enjoyed riding the elephants, experiencing the beaches, going diving, everything. It was truly the vacation she had been waiting to have, after Covid and then switching jobs had pushed everything back. Despite her best efforts, Nina missed Sidney. She missed that dumbass hockey player, he had wormed into her heart that easily. She missed him and was still supremely angry at him. Nina felt like the biggest dumbass on earth. As she waited for him to show up at her place, she wanted to bang her head into the wall. I fucked up by dating him, Nina said to herself.

Her doorbell rung and Nina opened the door. It was Sidney, hands in his pockets, no gifts this time. He ached to bring her into his arms but Sidney wouldn’t touch Nina unless she gave him permission.

There was a stony silence after Sidney closed the door, neither willing to say the first word. Nina tried to summon some of the anger she had but all that was left was pain and sadness. Before she even realized, a couple tears had slipped. Sidney saw them and his composure completely crumbled. He did the one thing he swore he would never do; he made his pretty girl cry.

Nina hiccupped as Sidney pulled her into his arms. He just held her as she cried. “Fuck you, Sidney Crosby. I felt like you were icing me out before dumping me. Fuck you, you fucking jagoff.”

“I-I should have said something but I was so pissed and I didn’t want to lash out at you. Then it just snowballed,” Sidney said, heartbreaking as Nina sniffled.

“You’re such a fucking dumbass. I don’t even know why I’m even considering taking you back.”

Sidney said, “I just didn’t want to burden you with everything I go through at the end of the season, especially when it’s disappointing.”

“Fuck that, Sidney.” Nina glared up at him, the big dummy. “Communication, it means that if you say you’re in a relationship, you communicate. You should have even sent a text, ‘I’m pissed as fuck, going golfing with the boys, be back soon’ or even just periodically texted those stupid hi and good morning beautiful texts. How would you feel if I didn’t call or text you and went away?”

Sidney paused as he considered Nina’s point. He was unhappy he didn’t know that Nina had gone away without telling him but he couldn’t say anything now. “Your face says it all, Crosby,” Nina snarked.

“I’m sorry, Nina,” Sidney said, deep from his heart.

Nina sighed, she could tell he was truly sorry. “Those donations… they were a total surprise. They all needed the money and are dear to me. But the Pittsburgh Prom Dress giveaway, we always need more funds since it doesn’t get as many donations around the year. Your donation not only allowed us to provide more dresses this prom season, it also allowed us to expand our collection so that we could provide suits as well as dresses. Thank you, Sidney.”

“You’re welcome,” he sincerely replied.

Keeping her cheek on his chest, Nina said, “I’m dumb because I really am considering taking you back. But don’t ever do that again.”

Pulling away a bit, Nina looked deep into Sidney’s eyes. “I’m serious. I don’t think I’m clingy, I don’t require much, but don’t even do that again. I don’t need you to call me everyday but don’t ever ignore me like that again, Sidney.”

“I won’t, I swear,” Sidney promised, happy that his pretty girl was talking to him again.

[maybankiara]

TELL ME, IS IT WORTH IT?

pairing: JJ Maybank x Pope Heyward

summary: Pope proposes, JJ panics, and now he’s trying to explain why he said no (and why he shouldn’t have done it.)

w/c: 3.7k

a/n: angst with a happy ending, ignore all the typos bc this is entirely unedited (i might edit in the future)

masterlist | tag list

read on archive of our own

It’s really unfair that when someone’s life falls apart, the world itself doesn’t. JJ thinks it should. It should be raining knives, hailing bullets, volcanoes should be exploding and the ground shaking shouldn’t be just his personal experience of reality. 

But it’s not even a moderately hot day. It’s breezy, it’s perfect, and it’s one of the nicest days of the fucking whole year. 

JJ hates it. 

The Chateau has only got John B and Kiara under its roof when he barges in, teeth gripping on the cap of a beer bottle. ‘Don’t ask,’ he states, then drops in the empty space between the two on the couch. His legs find their home on the coffee table and he nearly downs the bottle. Burps. Sighs, dramatically. 

He knows they’re exchanging glances, but he chooses to ignore it. 

Kie’s consoling hand lands on his shoulder. ‘What ha—’

‘Pope asked me to marry him,’ he says, ‘and I said no. And I also said I think it’s never going to happen.’

John B should’ve made a dumb comment. Kie should’ve made a sarcastic remark. But they didn’t, and they won’t, because JJ feels the gravity of the situation weighting down his lungs. (It feels like being torn up inside out, like his heart is chewing on itself out of anger, or sadness, or betrayal. It feels like the moment when your heart skips a beat and you think this is it, this is how I die, except you don’t; except you’re stuck in that moment forever.)

JJ burps. It chips at the silence, but it doesn’t break it. Kie’s hand on his shoulder is frozen and the distance between him and John B seems like an ocean. 

‘Yeah,’ says JJ. ‘I don’t think that was what he expected.’

A sigh comes from Kie, but he doesn’t look. ‘When was this?’

‘About twenty minutes ago. I drove straight here.’

‘Drunk?’ asks John B. 

‘Does it matter? I’m here now. Safe and sound.’ He lets out a dry chuckle before he can stop himself, and shakes his head. ‘Physically, anyway.’

‘You’re not drunk,’ says Kie. It sounds a little like a scoff, so JJ looks at her, but he can’t figure out what her face is saying. Tight lips scream anger, but her eyes are soft as ever, maybe a little concerned. She glances between him and John B with one of her eyebrows slightly raised. ‘He’s a heartbroken idiot, but not drunk.’

‘Ah. Understandable. Should I—’

‘You know what being a heartbroken idiot means.’ Kie pushes herself off the couch and when JJ glances at his other friend, John B’s just as confused as he is. ‘I know a thing or two about getting your heart broken for a dumb reason. You two sort that out, and I’ll make sure Pope’s okay. Let me know when you’ve knocked some sense into him.’

Before either of the boys manage to comprehend her words, she’s out the door. The Kie-shaped void on JJ’s left side feels a little odd, so he pushes himself into that side of the couch. The beer is bitter at the back of his throat; he wishes some music would be playing. 

John B calls his name, so JJ looks at him. He’s giving him the puppy eyes, trying to get him to talk, and it’s because neither of them really know how to start. (Their affection is physical, not verbal. Kie’s the one who’s good at that. Pope is—)

‘Did you panic?’ asks John B. 

JJ shakes his head. ‘Don’t think so. Not until after I’ve said it, anyway.’

‘So what happened?’

There’s a pause, JJ feels his brow furrow, and then: ‘I don’t know.’

‘…you don’t know?’

‘No.’

‘So you panicked.’

‘No, I didn’t, it’s—’ With a sigh, JJ accepts the momentary defeat. He glances over and sees John B’s signature stare full of indecipherable intent, but nothing less than pure kindness. They’ve had their bumps, but they always came out on top. It’s the pogue way. Even if John B wears that stupid bandanna around his neck well into his married life of his late twenties. ‘I knew the answer was no.’

It’s John B’s turn to frown. ‘You’ve thought about it?’

‘No, I just knew. Like you know the ocean is salty.’

‘You know that because you’ve tasted it before,’ counters John B. ‘I doubt you’ve been proposed to before.’

‘I could’ve been!’ 

All John B offers is a long stare yet that is enough. He’s older by only a few months, but he’s also married and didn’t say no to the proposal (granted, it was him proposing to Sarah, but still) and kind of has got his life together. He’s still JJ’s dumb older brother, but he knows something JJ doesn’t. 

‘How did you know you wanted to marry Sarah?’ 

‘Are you reconsidering your answer?’

‘No, I just—’ JJ sighs again and tries to wish another bottle into appearing in his hand. Doesn’t work. Probably for the better. He just leans his head back on the couch and stares at the ceiling, connecting the dots in his mind. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing. I just want you to tell me how you knew.’

He hears shuffling, and then feels John B’s feet in his lap. (He’s not going to comment on the boat shoes. There’s been enough deflecting. He’s got to listen, because Pope is threatening to burst into the forefront of his mind any second now.)

John B gives out the deep, heavy sigh that only comes with a slight aah whenever he’s about to tell a story. ‘When we were young, she made everything come alive. Everything looked brighter and clearer, and it was like I could finally breathe with the entirety of my lungs.’

JJ closes his eyes, trying not to gag. ‘Bro. I’m not listening to that.’

‘But that’s how I knew!’ He could just hear the grouch in his friend’s voice and now he’s threading the fine line between laughing and gagging. ‘Seriously, JJ, you asked. I don’t— I don’t know what to say. I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.’

‘I am.’

‘No, you’re not. You’re deflecting.’

‘Big word.’

‘See?’ John B scrunches his nose, shaking his head. His thumb and index finger grip the bridge of his nose. ‘I know you’re confused. And scared. I know you panicked when Pope asked, but I don’t think you understand how horrible is the thing you’ve done.’

‘It’s not like I broke his heart,’ scoffs JJ, but the words are flat and his heart skips another beat. He doesn’t need to look at John B to knows he’s got his head in his hands. ‘C’mon, it’s Pope. He’s tougher than he looks.’

‘Yes, but he proposed, JJ. He asked to spend the rest of his life with you and you said no!’

‘I didn’t say no to that!’ JJ flings himself off the couch and now he’s pacing around the living room of the Chateau, marching circles around the coffee table. His forehead is pulsating; he’s probably having a heart attack. That’d explain a lot. ‘I said no to getting married.’

‘That’s the same thing.’

‘It isn’t.’

‘It is.’

‘It really isn’t, John B,’ he spits out. Christ, he’s getting hot. Is that his blood boiling? ‘Marriage is… It’s taxes. It’s prenups. It’s joint bank accounts, it’s added tension, it’s fucked up. Half of the marriages don’t even last.’

(Pope’s always talked about getting married. When gay marriage was legalised, before they were together, before they were out of the closet, even then he was openly delighted about it. He’s been talking about the two of them getting married for a while now, or at least hinting at it. 

He should’ve expected it. It didn’t come out of the blue. He saw the signs, just ignored them, because… because…)

‘If you’re scared marriage is going to ruin your relationship, JJ, I’ll have you know you’ve already done that yourself.’ 

This is about the point where everything just… It comes crashing down. The world does end the way JJ wanted it to. 

He feels himself growing very, very still, like when he was younger and his father raised a hand. He feels his breath halting in his throat and ears tuning out all sound, repeating John B’s words over and over until the echo became the echo of itself. He could feel the ground opening beneath him despite not moving an inch. 

When gravity drags you down to earth, your rose-tinted glasses shatter like porcelain. 

He sees Pope’s face of shock, then laughter, then embarrassment and betrayal at once, once he’s realised JJ isn’t joking. He sees him get up from his knees, hands shaking as JJ fumbles over his words, unable to find an explanation or an excuse. He feels cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, blood turning to ice in his hands. He sees his mum leaving, his dad’s hand raised; he sees people arguing and JJ wants to cover his ears. He sees himself, alone, alone, alone. 

And he sees Pope turning his back to him. Quietly. He doesn’t even argue back. Just takes the no and i’m sorry, i can’t do this, it’s never going to happen, not like this and doesn’t say a word. Just walks away. 

It’d be easier if he screamed at JJ. At least he’d know how to deal with that. 

Pope’s heartbreak is the quiet kind, the one that doesn’t ask for attention, just the opposite. Usually JJ’s there to hold his hand, to sit by his side until Pope’s ready to talk about it, or be somewhere around, far enough so that Pope deals with things himself, but close enough so that he’s there if he’s needed. He’s never been the reason for the quiet. 

Fire replaces the ice. JJ feels like the sun itself is tearing him open. 

‘Shit,’ he says. ‘Fuck.’ Then raises his eyes until he meets John B’s, blurry and barely visible. ‘I fucked up.’

He doesn’t realise he’s shaking until his knees buckle under his weight and he stumbles to find his footing. John B shoots from the couch and pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around him so tight JJ couldn’t have escaped if he wanted to. He didn’t. He wanted to be held, even if by a friend. 

He doesn’t sob because the sob gets caught in his throat, too, but he lets out a cough that says all the same. ‘It would’ve been easier if you yelled at me.’

‘I know.’ John B pats his back, letting JJ rest his weight unto him. ‘Pope will understand. That’s why Kie went to talk to him. As long as you realise you’re hurting everyone by being an idiot, you can make it better.’

‘I thought—’ He stops, because his words get fumbled again, and now he’s pressing his eyes into his friend’s shoulder like he’s all he’s got. ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone again.’

‘You’re not going to, okay? Just… Marriage is not all taxes, and you gotta understand that. It’s about knowing that if they get hurt, you’ll be allowed to see them. That you can get a house together, that you can look after each other if something goes wrong. That what you have is there to stay. Think of it as a promise.’

JJ snorts, but he doesn’t let go. ‘I don’t do well with people promising things to me.’

‘Then promise it to yourself,’ counters John B. The way he puts it makes it sound it’s as easy as breathing – JJ wishes he could feel the same. ‘Promise to stay with him. Promise to be around if something bad happens, but if something good happens, too. That’s what marriage is.’

‘I already promised that,’ he says. ‘His future and mine are the same.’

‘Then what’s the problem? Marriage is just making it legal. Making it formal. When what you have is honest and true, it doesn’t change anything. It just makes things better.’

JJ pulls out, feeling confident he can stand on his own two feet. He still feels a little lightheaded, but the thought of Pope possibly thinking that spending the rest of their lives together is the last thing JJ would want… That is the last thing JJ would want. Pope hurting because of him. 

JJ can’t afford to be scared anymore; living a life half-way ready to run is not living. 

He checks his phone; it must’ve chimed at some point because there’s texts from Kie, telling him where she is with Pope. His heart skips another beat, and at this point he thinks he could have enough heartbeats for a whole new person just from the ones he missed. 

He’s not dying today. He’s not dying before he gets to live the future he’s almost ripped out of his own hands. 

When he looks up at John B, he feels the hint of a weary smile on his lips. ‘I think I’ve got a promise to make.’

—

It shouldn’t be a surprise JJ finds them at the Boneyard, yet it’s still quite odd to see the scenario he’s seen a million times – Kie sitting next to the sea with her feet dipped into water as her fingers splash at the waves just about reaching her, and Pope… Pope sitting on the half-dunked log that’s been here forever, with his feet bare but not quite touching the water. His head is hung low and JJ can see the strain in his shoulders even from halfway across the beach; the cap is sitting on his lap, unused, despite the sun high above their heads. 

The sight tugs at his heart and he falters in his step, but John B’s firm hand on his back encourages him forward. JJ gives a slight nod; he’s not giving up on the courage. 

It’s Pope who notices them first and he stiffens even more; JJ sees Kie pat his knee before turning around and waving at them, then saying something to Pope. JJ wishes the wind would carry her words to him – is it encouragement or telling Pope he’s better off without someone who panics and refuses the one thing they’ve always longed for?

‘Don’t.’ John B pats him on the back. ‘I see you doing your dumb thought thing.’

JJ opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was that he meant to say, it’s gone forever. All he can do is try and keep his shoulders from slumping and hands from forming fists; he can’t allow himself to be angry at the world, or himself. 

The sand creaks underneath his feet. He hates it in this moment, because it makes him aware of every step he’s got to take to get to Pope, and the steps drag into eternity. 

Pope locks their eyes. JJ tries figuring him out, but he’s too far, and Pope’s too guarded. 

(Not against me, Pope. Please. Not against me.)

When they get there, JJ feels like fainting, but he sets his foot firmly on the ground. He’s not escaping. 

‘Hey,’ greets Kie, and John B returns the greeting. The feuded lovers stay silent, just taking each other in. 

(JJ always wished he could paint. The lines of Pope’s face are shaped as if they were meant to withstand centuries instead of being washed away with age. He wishes he could offer to Pope more than just… himself.

He’s talked about this with Pope before, though. Feeling inferior to his boyfriend was always going to be JJ’s Achilles’ heel, yet he didn’t think it would come to this. He made another promise, ages ago – to try to see himself the way Pope sees him. The way other people see him. 

To believe in himself the way he believes in other people, for once.)

The silence is heavy, but JJ forces himself to not see it that way. Instead, he looks over to Kie, to John B, and says: ‘Can you guys give us a second?’

There’s nods and then they’re off, with nothing between the couple aside from waves crashing into the shore. Pope’s head is hung and shoulders slumped, and he’s sitting on this log with one foot pulled up and resting on it, the other hanging in the water now. JJ’s fingers ache to reach across for his, but he tells himself it’s not the time. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Marriage scares me. I don’t know one that worked out, aside from John B and Sarah. I was raised to be on my own. Marriage means not being alone and that scared me, until I realised that… I haven’t been alone for a while now. The pogues, you… Nobody’s going anywhere. And if marriage is just a way to promise to you that I’m not going anywhere, either, and if it means so much to you, then I say let’s do it. I got scared, but never for a second did a life without you cross my mind. It’s — That’s my nightmare, Pope. Your future and mine are the same. Where you go, I follow. That’s the way things are.’

For a long time, it was JJ trying to come to terms with loving Pope – then it was Pope coming to terms with loving JJ. They’ve always loved each other, in a way, without quite saying it. It has never been the kind of love that is shouted from the rooftops – it’s the helping hand, the whispers of i got this, or you’re not alone in this, or i wish you could see yourself the way i see you. It’s the kind of love that’s etched into the air around them, existing as a part of themselves rather than something external. They’ve grown into it, shaped their lives around it.

It’s always been the beach for them. Their first kiss when they were seventeen, their first fight, their first promise to stick together through thick and thin. Every time something happened, something that mattered, etched itself into the back of JJ’s mind like the sound of his mother’s voice, it was always accompanied by the sound of waves on the shore; by the wind howling over the bay. It was always people chatting in the distance, or some music playing from a half-working speaker. It was always them, in the midst of other people’s lives. 

Pope proposed in their flat. 

When JJ drops to his knees, he doesn’t do his dumb thought thing. He doesn’t even think about it – for once, his gut isn’t telling him to run, but stay. ‘Pope Heyward.’

‘JJ—’

‘Can you let me do this?’ asks JJ. He laughs a little, shakes his head, and tries not to think about how ridiculous this looks. ‘I know I already had a monologue, but I don’t think I got my point across.’

Pope shakes his head, too; he isn’t smiling, but his eyes aren’t as strained anymore. ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to—’

‘I want to. I want this, okay? I want you to hear it.’

He can see Pope’s Adam’s apple bob, and he can see his shoulders slump in a relaxed way. The lines around his eyes soften and his lips nearly turn upwards, just a little bit. A little twitch is enough to shoot electricity to JJ’s heart. 

‘Pope, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life saying it to you. You’re my best friend, my boyfriend, and my fiancee, if you’ll have me after the shit I pulled today. Husband, then. Father of your children, because I know it’s what you’ve always wanted, and I want it, too. Whatever you’ll be, I’ll be by your side. It’s all I want. No matter what our status is, we’re always Pope and JJ. We’re always just us. And I really haven’t thought out what I’d say next because—’

Pope’s lips crash into JJ’s, his hands grasping at JJ’s face, and world pulls itself together again. When they part their foreheads lean against one another, and he can feel Pope’s breath on his lips, and he feels his hands burning on the small of Pope’s back, and he can breathe and breathe and breathe like his lungs have never worked properly before. 

(He understands John B now. Not like he’d ever admit it to him.)

He lets out a chuckle, and then he’s kissing Pope again – a small, chaste kiss, just to feel the softness of the touch. His fingers grip the back of Pope’s flannel and he’s laughing into the kiss. 

‘You’re an idiot,’ says Pope. ‘I should break up with you.’

‘Can’t. I’m too irresistible.’

‘Shut up. You’re cheesy. That entire speech would put John B to shame.’ 

JJ shakes his head again and then his thumb is tracing the line of Pope’s jaw, eyes transfixed by his lips. He almost lost this. He almost gave up everything out of fear after promising to never doing it again. (He’s making a vow, this time. It holds more weight.) ‘You loved that speech.’

Pope rolls his eyes, in the way that tells JJ he’s right. ‘Kie told me you were freaking out at the Chateau.’

‘I was,’ admits JJ. What’s the point of holding back the truth? ‘I was freaked out of my mind. I thought I’d ruined everything.’

‘You forget how well I know you, JJ. I was hurt, but I knew you would come back. Old you would run, but Kie came and said you’re at the Chateau, and you wouldn’t have gone there if you meant to run.’

‘I couldn’t ever run from you.’

‘You better.’

JJ rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in Pope’s voice, then pulls him in for a hug. It’s not long until Pope buries his face in JJ’s shoulder, and JJ kisses the side of his head. ‘I do want to marry you, if you’ll have me.’

There’s a pause and JJ feels Pope chuckle against his neck, shivering a little. ‘What is it that you said? My future and yours are the same? That better be in your vows, John B.’

‘Shut up.’ JJ feels himself burning, neck up this time, and tries to laugh it off. ‘I get to be cheesy once.’

‘Just save it for the wedding. I’d like to hear it again.’

JJ angles his body so there’s some space between them; he doesn’t hesitate before planting another kiss on Pope’s lips, reveling in the ease of movement. This is what coming home feels like, and if this is what future has in store for him, who is he to complain?

[svnaslove]

beach trip with fukurodani

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ; [requested;anon] hcs of beach trip with Fukurodani where reader has a crush on Bokuto

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ; my bad writing

this turned into more of a story than a hcs, sorry😭(but i promise this is worthwhile this is so cute skjsjsj)

ok ok ok when you heard there was going to be a beach trip with the boys fukurodani volleyball team and you were invited you were ecstatic !!

but then...

you remembered that your CRUSH, BOKUTO was gonna be there

jesus christ

now this was going to be an anxiety induced trip

bokuto with his sunshine of a smile and beautiful personality and muscles and the fact he’s gonna be in swimming trousers....

YOU NEED TO STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT

but then you think about how YOU’RE going to be in a bikini

um 😳

you’d have to be either nuts or v confident to reveal yourself in a bikini and not be a tiny bit nervous because you are surrounded by a bunch of 17-18 year old guys

at least the managers were going to be there and they were all girls so you were a little bit more relaxed (unless you’re into girls too sjkjks)

so comes the day for the beach trip

you went to fukurodani yourself, a second year and you were invited by yukie, one of the managers

she was one of your best friends and she’s trying to get you closer to bokuto *eyebrows* *eyebrows*

you took 2 third year classes that you shared w him and that’s how you ended up knowing him and started to have feelings for him

the whole team plus the managers went together on the bus they used to ride to games, so you know what that means

ya in the bus too love <3

anxiously, you made your way to the back of the bus with yukie dragged behind you, taking a seat on the same side as the door of the bus at a window seat

“im so nervous” 

yukie just looked at you and said “he likes you too dummy”

your brain: SKJSJKJKFLSKFJSDKJ HUH

she’s just smiling slyly and takes a huge bite out of her food she had packed

“watch, bokuto’s coming to the bus now. guess what’s gonna happen. i’ll do it for you. he’s gonna look like he’s freaking out and blabber to poor akaashi next to him about how nervous he is that you’re actually in the beach trip with us, and then when he gets on the bus you two are gonna lock eyes or something because you’re so dumb for each other and then he’ll do that hey hey hey thing and come sit near us and start talking to you.” she declared inbetween bites

you scoffed, “yeah, as  if.”

“he’s very easy to read, you’ll see” she says

you rolled your eyes at her, there was no way she could be right about this

but-

wtf 🧍‍♀️

you looked out the window and saw bokuto and akaashi walking over to the bus, bokuto rambling nervously to akaashi, akaashi had a sympathetic look and bokuto couldn’t stop fiddling with his fingers. must be a habit he picked up from akaashi.

you looked to yukie and she wore a smug look.

the two boys walked in, bokuto in front

you looked at him to see that he had been looking at you, you two locked eyes and you heard yukie laugh 

a soft pink taint made it’s way to bokuto’s cheeks and your own

“hEY HEY HEY WHO’S READY FOR THE BEACH” bokuto laughed trying to snap out of the trance of locking eyes with you and came and sat DEAD RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU

im-

i-

“wtf yukie is this staged or something”

“im the mama manager, never doubt the mama manager” she winked

well now we have a future teller.

you looked over to yukie and whispered, ”if you’re the ‘mama’ manager i wouldn’t suppose you know why he does that hey hey hey thing do you?”

she smiled, “it’s how he gains confidence when he’s nervous” she winked again, taking another bite of her granola bar

the bus’s engine starts and you’re now all on your way to the beach

bokuto turned around in his seat with the biggest smile, “hey y/n-chan- is it okay if i call you y/n-chan? i was wondering what your number was so we could add it to the groupchat in case you get lost at the beach :)”

SLY ASS BITCH

you gave him your number and told him it was okay to call you y/n-chan

hOW-

maybe ya girl yukie was right, he did have a thing for you too, you will never doubt mama yukie again 😔

you all are nearly at the beach, you can already see the ocean, the coach is just trying to find a spot to park in when bokuto turns around in his seat again, “HEY HEY HEY, Y/N-CHAN DO YOU WANT TO GO TO THE OCEAN WITH ME WHEN WE ALL GET CHANGED?”

poor bby you

rED AS A TOMATO

“i- uhm, yes thank you bokuto-kun” you smile

at this point you just want to sTRANGLE YUKIE BECAUSE SHE HAS SUCH A SHIT EATING SMIRK

ITS DRIVING YOU CRAZY

“oooo~ go to the ocean with yo manz y/n” she whispered, poking your side

screaming internally because yukie is teasing you nonstop and bokuto jUST ASKED YOU TO HANG OUT W HIM SKJFS

you guys find a spot to park and start unloading and walking towards the beach

ah  it felt so nice, the sound of the waves, the sand under your feet and the warm sun

everyone for the most part had changed, you had to hold yourself back when you saw bokuto, wHY WAS HE SO MUSCULAR

bite bokuto’s muscles 2021

you dazed out staring a little too long at bokuto and his v-line

yukie had to push you into the changing room to get you to “stop being weird” as she put it 😭😭

you were just admiring the view 😭

when you walked out, everyone was still around talking to each other but you noticed eyes stealing glances of you here and there

and then you noticed bokuto from a bit far back, was he-

was he-

checking you out?

you literally short-circuited

rip y/n 2020

his cheeks were flushed, akaashi next to him, seemed like he was trying to hold back a laugh

close ur mouth bokuto

ur already dead idk how ur blushing too

you walk up to him and he’s like “you look really good y/n” all dazed out

cue akaashi hitting him in the back of the head and walking away for bokuto to stop being h word

he nervously laughs, “let’s go?”

he rented two boogie board while you were changing and surprised you w it awee

so you two go into the water, deeper, and deeper in and there’s like no one around and it just feels natural??

like you’re both not that nervous as much as before and it’s just fun

you got smacked on the face by a wave and he started laughing only to get hit in the face by an even bigger wave

you had to pull him up from underwater lksdjfdklsfj

and now bokuto’s hair is... down?

excuse me sir this is not allowed

stop playing with y/n’s heart, y/n can’t take it they’re gonna die again

u just zone out looking at how pretty he looks with his hair down and he’s all laughing because he had to be saved and then he relaxes, still smiling and looking at you

is this gonna happen?

i think it’s gonna happen

he gets a little serious now

you’ve never seen him calm down to this point

“y/n... i.. i like you, like, alot” he let out a small laugh to relieve the tension

you can’t think of words to use to reciprocate your feelings to him so you just do it

you throw the boogie board from under you to the side and just hold his face and kiss him

bokuto was surprised, he tensed for a quarter of a second before relaxing and enjoying your kiss

his arms held your legs up around his waist underwater so you didn’t have to kick up while kissing him

he tasted of salt water from the previous fall

mid kiss he started smiling in the kiss

“i’ve been waiting for this for a long time you know.”

you can’t help but to smile, “me too”

and you both just start softly laughing with each other

he bring you out of the water and you’re both holding hands, “let me treat you to some ice cream” he said

the whole team notices you two coming out of the water and holding hands and they’re all like

$#(#$*()??WHAT???#$#)$*#(SLKDJFDSKL

akaashi is slightly surprised that bokuto managed to do that so fast but happy for him

the rest of the team was just “BOKUTO???DID??IT???”

they knew from the beginning that he liked you since he’s always talking about how pretty you looked in class to akaashi and how you make him so nervous and how he wishes he had the courage to talk to you and they all know how they set up yukie, conveniently enough being your best friend to invite you to the beach trip so that bokuto could make some kind of move

BUT DAMN BOKUTO

THAT WAS FAST

you two are just giggling the rest of the day with each other holding hands and hanging out together

IT’S SO CUTE SJDFLKDSJ

when it got to sundown it started getting colder, you didn’t expect for it to get cooler so you didn’t bring a jacket

bokuto had a baggy jacket on and he just told you to come cuddle up on his chest and he closed the jacket with the two of you inside

yukie was about to cry because he was so DAMN SWEET

she took pictures for you because what’s a best friend for

the sun’s setting and the sky is gorgeous, a mix of pinks and oranges with wispy clouds and the ocean right in front of you

bokuto’s sitting behind you and you’re sitting in front of him and his legs are wrapped around you and you’re inside his jacket w him and he just leans in and plants a soft kiss on your cheek, “will you be my s/o?” he asks softly, nearly a whisper

when you say yes his heart springs and he hugs you tight

when you two get back on the bus to go home you two sit together, you both end up falling asleep together, falling on each other and you had his jacket on since he got hot but you were still cold 

yukie definetly took a picture of that too

[thatsgay-writes]

Leah x reader who is know to be the calm and nice one until she snaps when she found out Rachel held Leah underwater

You were the yang to Leah’s yin. The eye of Leah’s own personal hurricane. Literally one of the only reason Leah had managed to stay some what sane after everything that happened with Jeff. Overall, you were her saving grace. You fell, literally fell, into her life on a cloudy but bright Sunday afternoon.

---

You had just been jogging through the park, training for a marathon that your father made you run. Your dad was an over the top sports fanatic and forced you to do sports or things you didn’t want to do. If you didn’t comply, you got beat. One thing he never taught you was wrestling or MMA fighting because he didn’t need you to learn how to defend yourself. So you got it taught to you and joined an underground fighting ring to make money since your dad wouldn’t let you get a job. Fighting was a way to let out all the pain and anger in your life in a productive way, it also let you get out all the pent up negativity in your body. Outside of the fighting cage you were a bubbly person, you had decided from a early age that the world had enough negativity in it and that you wouldn’t participate in it.

Anyways, you had been jogging through the park on Sunday finally hitting your five mile mark and were ready to turn around when you ran smack into a person. You wrapped your arm around the girl, you could tell it was a girl after practically body slamming her, and turned your body so you would hit the ground instead of her. “Oof...” You let out as the gravel digs into your back. “Are you okay?” You ask as you look up at the girl laying on top of you. The brunette above you shook her head a little before looking at you. Her eyes widened comically as she took you in. A blush shone through as Leah realized she was laying on top of a beautiful girl... Laying on top? Laying on top! Leah realized she was still on top of you and immediately got up. “I am so sorry!” Leah says as she puts out a hand to help you to your feet. “Oh shit.” Leah says as she realizes her ice cream cone had been crushed between the two of you. Not even caring about her own ice cream covered shirt, she uses the napkins that had survived the fall to wipe your stomach clear of ice cream. You look at her in shock as this random girl you just ran into was now wiping your bare stomach clear of ice cream. Leah froze after a few minutes as she realized what she was doing. “I--- Um...”

---

You ended up getting a beating that night for taking too long on your run but you didn’t care. You had gotten the number of one of the most pretty girls you had ever met. After the first meet, you and Leah started seeing each other a lot more. You didn’t know how you missed that Leah went to your school but you definitely surprised her one day when you came up to her in the hallway, abandoning your jock friends and invited her to spend lunch with you. The rest was history.

---

You had only been on the island for three days before you got into a fight. It had started as a normal morning. You woke up next to Leah and gave her a kiss on the head before getting up. You sat down next to Fatin near the fire as Dot kept it going. “You two are cute.” Fatin said with a smirk. You feel your face heat up and gave a small shrug with a smile. “Well I love her so...” Fatin gave you a nudge causing you to laugh. Your brightness was one of the only things that kept some of the girls sane. Sure, Martha was bright as well and Shelby tried to stay upbeat, but something about you had seemed so pure and good and it put all the other girls at ease... Except for Rachel. She seemed to have a problem with you for no reason. Rachel just didn’t believe in your enthusiasm about staying positive. She also didn’t like Leah because of what happened with the phone and how suspicious she seemed of everything.

There had been a few moments where Rachel had angered you and made you mad but you managed to calm yourself down, like with what happened on the mountain. But you had remained calm after Leah reassured you multiple times that she was okay. Leah still didn’t know about your underground fighting but she would soon. “Rachel is fucking psychotic.” Leah mumbles to you as every sat in their own little groups doing whatever. Fatin and Dot sat with the two of you. “What happened?” Fatin asked, over hearing Leah. “She almost fucking drowned me for that black box.” Leah continues in disgust. “I tried to come back go back up for air after we had gone up and down twenty times and she grabbed my ankle and pulled me back down.” “She what.” You state deadly calm as Rachel finally hit the last straw of your patience.

All three girls looked at you in shock, they had never seen you so serious or quiet as you were at that moment. Leah was surprised to see anger flash through your eyes before you stood up. “Oh shit.” Fatin mumbled as she they watched you walk towards Rachel. The three girls you were just with stood up, concerned about what was going to happen. You walked by Martha, Shelby, and Toni as well who all watched you in concern as they noticed the other girls had stood up. Now you had a whole audience as you walked up to Rachel and Nora and tapped Rachel on the back. “What?” Rachel ask annoyed at being interrupted by you. “Stand up.” You said trying to seem as calm as possible. “Why?” Rachel asked, really testing your patience. Don’t break her nose, don’t break her nose... You kept repeating over and over again in your head as you repeated yourself. “Stand up.” Rachel rolled her eyes and stood up right in your face, eye to eye. Nora had stood up as well but moved away some when she noticed the tension between you and Rachel.

Without warning, and to everyone’s shock, you reared your fist back and punch Rachel hard across the face causing her to fall. You shook your hand as you started to walk away from her. “What the fuck!” Rachel roars as she stands back up. “What the fuck was that!?” You stop walking and turn around to face Rachel, ignoring the shocked and frozen looks from the other girls. “Well you almost drowned Leah earlier today at the plane wreck, that wasn’t about to let that go unchecked.” You stated, voice still icily calm. “It’s not my fault she can’t hold her breath long or whatever. Maybe she should learn how to swim correctly or some shit.” Rachel fires back annoyed. “Oh yeah? Says the girl who lied about going to Stanford for diving.” You say in a mocking tone as Rachel’s eyes got wide. “Yeah, you and Nora talk kind of loud.” You say with a smirk that got bigger as Rachel attempted to bum rush you out of anger. You dodge a upper cut aimed at your face and move to the side as Rachel stumbles past you.

You let out a chuckle and grin from the adrenaline rush you were getting, you hadn’t fought someone in weeks. “This is going to be fun.” You state with a big smile, causing Rachel to get even angrier. You took off your shirt, not wanting it to get ruined, and Fatin let out a low wolf whistle getting a elbow to the stomach from Leah. Leah on the other, not gonna lie, was turned on. Her girlfriend fighting for her, shirtless? Leah was in paradise. Rachel bum rushed you again but this time instead of dodging, you caught her fist and gave her a solid punch in the stomach. The two of you fought for what seemed like seconds but what was really a few minutes as Rachel tried to get the upper hand on you. Finally, you had gotten Rachel pinned down again and was holding her arm in position that could dislocate it if you pulled to hard. “Tap out.” You grunted as Rachel tried to get out of your hold. She had blood dripping out of her nose and on to the sand and also sported a black eye. You had gotten her good but made sure not to hit place that would cause anything to break. Nora had wanted to help her sister but had backed up after Rachel sent her a deadly glare. “Tap out or I’ll dislocate your shoulder.” You state again, you knew how to put it back in so it didn’t scare you to do it. “5... 4... 3... 2...” You start counting down and slowly pull on Rachel’s arm.

“Alright alright! I give up!” Rachel screamed out as the pain got too much for her and you immediately got off of her. “Good, now don’t do some dumb shit like that again... To any of the girls, got it?” You ask as Rachel nods her head and holds onto her shoulder. You gave a nod and walked to pick up your shirt that had gotten sand on it during the fight. “Damn...” You stated as you went to the ocean to wash your shirt off and cool down. The ocean salt stung some scrapes you had gotten but was cool against your hot skin. It took a while but the girls all split away after the crazy event they just witnessed. Leah opting to give you some time before talking to you.

---

You had been in the ocean for a concerning amount of time. You honestly didn’t want to return to the girls in fear that their opinions about you might have changed. The other girls, void Rachel and Nora, were worried about you. “I think you should go talk to her.” Fatin says as she whispers to Leah. “I think she’s cooled down enough.” Fatin continues as she see’s Leah bite her lip in thought. Leah nods her head and gets up before heading towards you. “Tell y/n I want boxing lessons while your down there.” Toni throws out, being completely serious and ignores the glare she gets from Rachel.

You sat in a shallow part of the ocean, staring out into the endless sea. “Penny for your thoughts?” Leah asks as she sits beside you, as close as she can without touching you. You give Leah a quick glance before looking straight ahead. “Are the girls mad at me?” You ask, voice filled with nerves. “Just Rachel and Nora but that’s understandable.” Leah let’s out a laugh, “Toni does want you to teach her how to fight though.” You smile and turn to look at Leah before getting serious again. “Are you okay with what happened? I know I kind of went all Incredible Hulk and all but hearing what she did was just the last push...” Leah cupped your face with her hands. “I am okay with what happened... It definitely shocked me but, not gonna lie, it was kind of hot.” Leah says with a smirk and your face heats up immediately. “I, um... woah.” You say with a nervous laugh as Leah lets go of your face and leans her head against your shoulder instead. “Thank you though, for protecting me and defending me... Even before the whole place crash happened.” Leah said as she let herself fully relax against you for the first time since the plane crash. “Always.”

NEXT

[its-nebula]

Don’t Touch Him

PreGame Kokichi x Delinquent Reader

Well, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to being by your lonesome. It was pretty much just like any regular day. Still, you couldn’t help but wish just once that you could talk to him, maybe even tell him your feelings. Alas, you knew it could only be a fantasy of yours for now. Why?

Well, for starters, Kokichi actually went to class when he was supposed to. Even now, you were standing behind the school, thinking about how you couldn’t even muster up the courage to tell the object of your affections how you simply felt about him. There was an irony to it, really. Everyone assumed that you were one of the toughest people in the school, but you felt like such a wimp, such a coward even.

Still, you had an appearance to keep up. You knew that you would probably scare him off, if you ever tried to confess, so all the more reasons to stay quiet. Eventually, you would probably have to stop coming to school completely and making a fool out of yourself. Every time the two of you crossed paths, you found yourself very giggly and blushy, barely able to form coherent sentences -- not ideal.

Looking at the time, you groaned at the fact that time seemed to be moving so slowly, so you decided to take just a small stroll. Walking back into the building, you lazily looked at the decor, deciding it was all just so boring.

"...and you're just worthless! No wonder your family all left you." You heard a female voice from around the corner. Whoever they were, they sounded angry. 

“I-I didn’t mean to! It was supposed to be funny!” You recognized that voice from anywhere. Kokichi?! You peeked your head around the corner, seeing Kokichi’s panicked face and a pale girl who was covered head to toe in glitter. 

“I bet it’ll be funny to see you on the ground.” She hissed, and punched him in the face without warning. You audibly gasped, covering your mouth and ducking behind the wall. Anger bubbled within you, ready to rise up to the surface. The girl in question looked your way, but seeing nobody, she kicked him in the shin and walked away quickly. Kokichi groaned in pain, rubbing his cheek. 

You felt bad for not interfering, but the girl would get what she deserved. This wouldn’t be the first time a situation like this had come up. Just a couple weeks ago, you had to deal with Rantaro Amami for yelling at Kokichi for dyeing his hair dark red. Rantaro didn’t come near him again.

 Turning around, you made your way around the school to the bathroom, where you assumed she was going to wash herself off. You waited outside for her once you heard the water running inside, and as soon as the door opened, you attacked.

You recognized the girl as Maki Harukawa, who had a reputation for being a little mean, but none of that mattered to you now. You growled as you clenched your fists after you pushed her to the ground. 

“What gives you the right to go pushing people around?” You yelled. She tried to retaliate by getting up, but you put a foot on her chest. “Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size, you bitch?”

“He... glitter bombed....me...” She protested, trying to move your foot off her. You pressed it down harder. “Leave me alone, you- you freak!” 

“Leave. Kokichi. Alone.” You snapped. You moved your foot off of her, allowing her to stand up and dust herself off angrily. “Or else, I’ll-” She punched you in your nose, taking you by surprise. 

“I don’t care how tough you are. Don’t touch me.”

Oh, that fucking does it. Yelling, you lunged at her, tackling her to the ground. You punched her in the face repeatedly, as she tried to reach up and go for your throat.

The school bell rang loudly through the halls. Shit.

Quickly scrambling to get off her, you delivered one final kick to her side, and took off. You weaved through the crowd of people, trying to blend in. It was a little difficult, seeing as how people always got out of your way when you were coming, but you managed to get away without any staff finding you. It was a quiet room of the school that you were sure only you knew how to get access to.

Breathlessly, you leaned against the wall, not even paying attention to the blood dribbling out of your nose. Closing your eyes, you sighed. You knew as soon as Maki revealed what happened you were sure to be expelled.

“Are...you okay?”

You jumped as you heard a voice in front of you, opening your eyes. You saw a small figure in front of you, holding an ice-pack to his cheek. He was looking at you very meekly, but he looked very concerned.

“You’re bleeding...”

The voice was unmistakable as Kokichi Oma, and your face started to flush. 

“I-I-I, u-uh, y-yeah!”

“Are you sure, S/O?”

“I’m, uh...excuse me.” You rushed past him as you exited the room out of nervousness. Letting out the breath you’d sucked in, you began walking to your usual outside spot, but you ran straight into the chest of a very stern headmaster. He glared at you with his arms crossed, tapping his foot.

You, however, pretended you were very happy to see him. “Headmaster. Headmaster! How have you been, how’s the wife?!” You laughed, but he only kept his frown. 

“S/O, I told you after Rantaro that I would give you one last chance to turn yourself around.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Like that was ever gonna happen. But-”

“Not only have you been skipping most of your classes, but you’ve brutally beaten up yet another student. I’m sure you know what this means. I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can do.”

There was silence between the two of you. You turned your back towards him, tight-lipped. 

“I’m sure there’s still good in you somewhere, S/O. You’ll find it somewhere, someday.”

“...Goodbye.”

You hastily walked to the outside area, in the back of the school. Going to your usual spot, you stood there, staring up at the large building. You’d probably never get the chance to interact with Kokichi again, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. He deserved someone who was less difficult, less dangerous.

“HEY! S/O!” Great, now what? Pursing your lips, you turned to the side, only to be met face-to-face with Kaito Momota. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, beating the shit out of my friends?”

You hummed in response, not wanting to give him the time of day. He put his hand on your shoulder, harshly forcing you to turn around to face him. “All because of some weird little dude nobody even likes, huh? Well, I’m going to beat the crap out of you, and I’m going to beat that little jokester next!”

You blocked his incoming punch, twisting his arm instead. You weren’t in school anymore, so what was the point of going easy? He yelled out, kneeling in pain. While he was kneeling, you took the opportunity to kick him in the chest, calling him to fall down hard. As you were about to kick him again, he grabbed your leg, causing you to trip.

Once he was on top of you, he started to punch you in your face, just as you’d done to Maki. With all your strength, you pushed him off you, quickly getting up. You kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine, multiple times. 

You didn’t even notice that you drew a crowd, temporarily distracted by the whoops and howls of the spectators. He took the opportunity to punch you in your jaw, getting you with an uppercut. You started to get dizzy, starting to see stars and multiple Kaitos in front of you. 

“This...is for... him....” You managed to mutter out before you delivered one final push to Kaito, then losing the energy to continue further. You prepared for Kaito to make one final blow, but you heard the voice that seemed to be following you.

“STOP! T-This is all my fault! You don’t want her!” You saw Kokichi’s black uniform standing in front of you. Your eyes widened. Was he dumb? Kaito was absolutely going to crush him into a pulp if he didn’t move!

“Ko...kich...i...?” You wondered out loud. How embarrassing, he had to see you in this vulnerable state. You were supposed to be the one protecting him, but...

...

When you woke up, you were still behind the school. It was quieter than what you remembered, and the sun wasn’t in the same place. How long were you gone...? And then you remembered everything, especially how Kokichi jumped in front of you. You tried to get up, but your head was throbbing. Your hand made its way to the top of your forehead, and you felt...bandages? You heard footsteps walking towards you, and they suddenly stopped.

“S/O! You’re awake?” Kokichi ran towards you, and gently knelt beside you. You blushed profusely. “That fight...it looked pretty bad.” You noticed the bruise that’d developed on his cheek, and you reached up to touch it.

“You’re hurt... you shouldn’t have done that, you know.” You warned him.

“I had to.” He looked away shyly. “I heard the rumors of the school, that you only fought Kaito because you wanted to defend my name. You didn’t have to do that. Besides, you’re way more hurt than I am.”

“I would do anything for a friend.” You winced as you said that. You continued, “Why aren’t you scared of me already? I got expelled today, Kokichi. I’m dangerous, you’re much better off-”

“Why’d you do it? Why’d you have to get yourself expelled?”

You took a deep breath. There was nothing else to lose. “I care about you, Kokichi. Those people have no right to be hurting you like they want to..”

“S/O, I care about you too, but you don’t have to go around doing dumb things because of my dumb pranks!”

“...Well...maybe I...like you...” You trailed off, embarrassed that you even said it. 

“You...do? What?” His eyes widened. “S-Since when? Why do you always run away from me?”

“I thought you would be more afraid of me if I ever interacted with you too much. Besides, you deserve better than this.”

“That’s not for you to decide.” He placed a soft kiss upon your lips. You kissed back instantly, smiling within the moment. Once he pulled away, he gave you a small smile. “Thank you for protecting me S/O... I know I don’t look like much, but please, allow me to do the same for you as well.”

You smiled back at him. “I’ll try, Kokichi.”

“Thank you.”

[jjuzoir]

request: Hello! Can I ask headcanons about being childhood!besties with Miya twins (about child and about adults)? (by nonnie!)

a/n: ofc baby!! sorry for taking so long 🤧 every time i try writing something happens it’s ridiculous 😔 anyway sorry if it’s bad ive been ✨struggling✨

- Being friends with one of them is like, hard enough— but the two? Good luck.

- You three met via your parents— yes, it’s like that, you were the new kid and awkward as hell. Your parents were having none of that shit and made a playdate for you with the twins, it’s embarrassing, you were like 13 and that’s kind of embarrassing for you and you knew it.

- Like, here you were a newly turned teenager, sitting on a couch with two guys your age all watching a weird cartoon and you all want to die.

- But at some point, you three start acting like you had known each other for your whole lives. You three fight to this day on who cracked the ice, Atsumu swears it was him and his sense of humor but you and Osamu are not taking that shit, like with what humor?

- You start hanging out after school, since you three went to the same school it started bleeding into school time and your teachers hated you three.

- During middle school you three were known to your teachers for being insufferable— more like, Atsumu and you. You two were the type of kids to pass fake notes with the stupidest shit written on it, like middle school humor, “Miss Poopy Pants” and “ICUP” so the teachers would have to read it aloud.

- Osamu and you? Known to the lunch ladies, you two were the first to arrive and gobble down anything and everything especially onigiri. They even snuck you two snacks for class— yes, you were the kids who had a whole grill in the back. Always eating.

- You three didn’t skip class though— I feel like Atsumu might’ve tried to convince you but ultimately forgot.

- During gym you three would always be in the same team if you could pick but it would end with Atsumu and Osamu fighting about dodgeball and getting disqualified leaving you alone.

- They got into Volley around then and you became their number one cheerleader, you’d fight anyone who’d say they weren’t good.

- By high school you three were known for being kind of chaotic!

- You know your parent’s discussed what school they’d put the three of you together in, they joked about separating you guys and you almost cried no joke.

- So you three go to Inarizaki together and when I tell you everyone is annoyed by you three and your shit I mean it 💕

- Especially the volleyball club, you decided to become their manager at the same time the twins got in— they were happy, finally a manager and some new kids; good, good.

- Until they learned about how absolutely full of shit the three of you are, Atsumu and Osamu are already a handful together but you? You add a whole new spice to this shit and it’s ✨embarrassing✨ for them.

- You and ‘Tsumu always goof off and get lost because you two were fighting over something, it takes the whole team’s willpower to not let you stranded.

- “All I’m saying is since Osamu looks like Atsumu, would anyone really notice if we just dye his hair yellow?”

- But they are also thankful, you manage to bring a semblance of peace during their fights. It doesn’t take much for you to calm them down, so they keep you around even if you sometimes distract the two of them too much.

- You’re still their number one cheerleader! Whenever they manage to score you’re the first to jump around and congratulate them, they’d never tell you but it’s kind of sweet seeing you so proud of them. They’d rather die than tell you though so shh.

- You being there brings a new level of competitiveness, they gotta make you proud! You’re cheering your little heart out for them; they can’t embarrass you now.

- But you can't always win, so whenever they (unfortunately) lose, you’re always the first to comfort them. You all go to your house and chill for a while, they get kinda quiet and you can feel how tense they are but they’d rather spend the afternoon after a bad match with you.

- Bet your ass you three watch Power Rangers and you all fight about who the best Ranger is; Atsumu says it’s Red Ranger and Osamu is about to snap his neck when there’s a whole Black Ranger, but they can agree to bully you when you say you like Green the best.

- Back to you being their manager, I feel like they’re kind of better behaved? Like, they get into less trouble and are less likely to fight because Kita sends you to scold them and it’s embarrassing being scolded by someone who thought the Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters was also Michelin Man.

- Now to their individual quirks; Osamu loves it when you help him cook or cook for him, he feels all happy you take the time to make him something— especially when they’re practicing, he really appreciates you coming in with some food for him and the team. He likes the fact you take care of him in small ways!

- “Awww, the little bug cares about me~”

- “Shut up, next time I’m putting cyanide in your stupid Onigiri.”

- Atsumu likes it when you’re just there, not even talking, just vibing together. He likes how you two don’t have to always talk to know what’s going on, it’s probably what he loves the most about your friendship. The fact you just get each other is something he kind of loves.

- Sometimes ruins it by saying dumb shit but it’s okay ♥︎ No it’s not ♥︎

- “Do you ever think about Taemin Paula, like who’s Paula and why are they taming her?”

- “‘Tsumu go back to being quiet, please just shut up.”

- Oh, let’s talk S/O! The two of them are protective over you, you’re their best friend!

- Osamu is more vocal about what he dislikes, he flat out tells you not to go out with them, pointing out all of what he doesn’t like and why he gets bad vibes or why he feels like they’re just not it.

- Atsumu doesn’t say much, he’s got his fair share of flings and dates— good and bad, though, it’d be unfair of him to tell you what to do. But you can tell when he doesn’t like someone you’re seeing.

- This is only if they feel like the person isn’t good enough, it’s not like they don’t want you to date. They’re just careful of it, you’re like a sibling to them and they wouldn’t want you to get heartbroken.

- Speaking about heartbreak; they get very mad at the person, you’re amazing! Why’d they go and fuck you over like that.

- Atsumu would throw hands, it’s in sight with the other person; especially if he never got bad vibes from them, he’s so mad he wasn’t there to see the red flags.

- Osamu is behind him and he’s not stopping his brother, he knew something wasn’t right about them and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give them a piece of his mind.

- But at the end of the day, what’s most important to them is making sure you’re alright at the end of the day. They care about you, dummy.

- They’d come over to your house and cheer you up, Atsumu would tell his jokes and Osamu and you would laugh at how bad they are 💖

- “I’m glad you feel better but I’m startin’ to feel kinda bad here myself-“ “Maybe get better jokes <3”

- Once you three graduate you still keep in touch, probably more with Osamu since he’s not always busy like Atsumu; in other words, even during your adult they torment you 💕

- You’re so proud of the two of them though? Like, you’re always bragging about them, it’s just so !! Seeing the kids you grew up with become successful? Amazing.

- “Have I told you about how my childhood best friend is a PROFESSIONAL, yes PROFESSIONAL, volleyball player?”

- “[Name], I am literally his fucking brother shut up.”

- Osamu and you totally make fun of Atsumu, it’s gotten to the point you always try embarrassing more each game. Your latest (very successful, much to Atsumu’s dismay) attempt was wearing shirts with ugly childhood pictures of Atsumu, I’m talking about the type your parents bring up to make fun of you and a banner that said “Tsu-Tsu our superstar!” or something like that.

- He almost cried on national television, he was horrified, the worst part? You were in front row seats meaning that everyone the camera panned in to one of the players you’d be in full view.

- “Atsumu, is that [Name] and Osamu?” “You were so fucking ugly as a child oh my god-“

- Sakusa is having a field trip with this, that thing won’t die as long as he lives— this man will film this shit, tape it and pass it as a family heirloom.

- “Kiyoomi could you-?”

- “Don’t talk to me you gremlin baby.”

- “This was months ago, let it die!”

- “You lived your whole childhood looking like that, I don’t think I will.”

- The three of you reminiscing about high school together at Onigiri Miya? Yes, it happens and it’s ♥︎

- “Do you remember when Osamu shoved a marble up his nose, stupid kid…”

- “Tch, rough words for a fucker who bit into a brick because it looked tasty.”

- “I was young!”

- “You were 16, piss head.”

- A lot of the time you just like spending time with each other, even during your busy schedules you always do your best to talk to each other at least once a month.

- Sometimes it’s just talking over the phone and other times it’s going to fancy restaurants that Atsumu pays, other times it can also be trying to make new recipes with Osamu as Atsumu just cringes in the back.

- They're just always there for you, yes you fight and yes they’re kind of annoying but you care for them and you don’t mind it. You’d rather spend a whole other lifetime having to endure their teasing than not have them at all.

[panda-noosh]

Enemies by Association {Draco Malfoy x Reader}

Words: 7.6k

Summary: Sometimes you don’t really know what you and Draco are meant to be. 

Genre: angst (?)

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - what the FUCK is this, Aticus?! 

----

  “What the bloody hell are you doing here? 

   The voice strikes you almost immediately like a blow to the back of the skull. Already in a gruesome mood, the shrill tones of Draco Malfoy does nothing to make this night any better.

    Slowly, you turn to face the pale-haired boy now standing before you. It was only seconds before the forest was completely empty, nothing more than you and it’s usual spooky atmosphere, and where once you craved the comfort of another human being suffering alongside you, you now wish for nothing more than a tree to scoop you up and devour you.

    Draco, as per usual, stands tall and bold, even in the most embarrassing of circumstances. He’s wearing his Hogwarts robes, the Slytherin crest unavoidable upon his chest alongside his very undeserved Prefect badge. His basically-white hair still manages to glisten even in the pitch black of night, and that stupid scowl of his is, of course, still very prominent on his features.

    “What does it look like?” is your response to his dumb question. “I got a detention.”

    Draco raises a brow, visible only beneath the torchlight cast upon his lower jaw. “Y/N Weasley getting a detention? Colour me surprised.”

   You scowl and swivel back to face the path you had previously been staring into; still dark, still scary, still very unappealing, but it’s better than dealing with Draco’s sarcasm.

    He steps up beside you, folding wiry arms over a flat chest. “Are you not even gonna ask why I’m here?”

  “I can genuinely say I don’t give a shit.”

   “Watch your mouth, Weasley, or I’ll give you another detention.”

    You roll your eyes. “Fine then. What are you doing here, Malfoy?”

    He’s quiet for only a moment, and during that moment, you can feel his ice-like eyes burning into the side of your head; you want to punch him, desperately and with the force of a thousand waves, you want to punch that smirk off his stupid face.

    “Apparently part of the job of being a Prefect is overlooking detentions.”

    You gasp over dramatically, clapping your hands to your face. “You’re a Prefect? Why didn’t you say?!”

   “Oh, ha ha.” He nudges your arm, nods into the darkness ahead. “Get walking, then. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

   “An hour,” you correct, walking forward with him following close behind; you have to admit, he’s grown an awful lot since the last time you had been cursed with a shared detention with him. That was way back in first year after the two of you had been too loud during an argument in the hallways - hallways you were not supposed to be in that late at night. Filch had come sprinting down the corridors, and it was an instant sentence to the forest. Back then, Draco had basically been trembling in fear as Hagrid led the two of you through the trees, giving his usual promises that everything would be okay. You love Hagrid, would trust him with your life, but you’ve never been able to take his word on what he deems as okay.

    Now, however, Draco walks with his spine straight and his eyes narrowed, looking for the dangers you suspect he thinks he can fend away. 

    “You haven’t even got your fucking wand in your hand,” you point out.

   “Language, Weasley. I won’t tell you again. Even that twin brother of yours doesn’t use such foul language.”

   “Such foul language. Alright, Umbridge, I don’t remember asking.”

    Draco purses his lips. “It’s like you want a second detention.”

  “If it means having to walk through this bleeding forest with you again, I’ll pass.”

    The conversation dips after that. Draco keeps his wand in his hand, seems utterly concentrated on the path ahead; neither of you know where you’re going, but that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing when the tension is so high. 

     And the thing is, you don’t even think you dislike him.

   Draco just has the kind of personality you’re meant to clash with. He’s Slytherin, you’re Gryffindor. You’re a Weasley, he’s a Malfoy. You’re best friends with Harry Potter, and he’s got some kind of vendetta against him, so hating him is just kind of expected.

    But you talk to him a lot more than the others do.

    It’s mainly arguing, yes, but you’re still communicating, and you still go out of your way to sneer at him, and he goes out of his way to sneer right back. You insult him, but you spend ages coming up with those insults and you get excited when you see him and can finally hurl them at him from across the hallway, and you get excited when he throws his own set of insults right back at you. It’s been like that from day one, and you’re not sure what your day would look like without it.

     These thoughts never settle well with you, of course. You take one look at Ron and immediately feel like a traitor, because if he was to hear what was running through your head, he would be most incredibly displeased - and rightly so. The way him and Malfoy get on, it wouldn’t surprise you if Ron turned and ripped your head off for ever expressing even a single hint of fondness for the blonde boy currently strolling alongside you.

     “What are you in detention for this time, then, Weasley?”

   His voice breaks you from your reverie. You glance at him; he’s still looking dead ahead, tracing those ice blue eyes along the ground in search of danger. Part of you is surprised; the fact that Malfoy even showed up tonight is a big deal, considering you wouldn’t be surprised if he simply left you for dead in the Forbidden Forest.

    “McGonagall got mad at me,” you mumble in response. 

   Draco raises a brow. “For what?”

    “For nothing.” You fold your arms over your chest, letting your wand peek from your sleeve to keep the light illuminated on the track ahead. “In my defense, it was entirely Ron’s fault - if he had just let me get on with the Vanishing spell, that table would still be in her classroom and I wouldn’t be here.”

    Draco nods like he understands. “I always said two Weasleys in the same classroom would be dangerous.”

    “Ha.”

    “So why didn’t Ronald get a detention?”

   You scowl. “I bloody covered for him.”

   Draco almost seems to stumble. Your head snaps round to look at him at the exact same time he whirls around to look at you, eyes wide beneath his wand light, his footsteps a little heavier.

   “What’s wrong with you?” you demand, struggling to hide your laughter.

    “You covered for him?” 

   You raise a brow, grin spreading slow across your face. “Of course I did. He covered for me during Snape’s last class, and Snape is ten times worse than McGonagall - I owed him one.”

    Draco continues to stare at you in puzzlement.

   “Malfoy, close your mouth before you attract flies.” You glance into the darkness and shudder. “Or something worse.”

     Draco shakes his head, fumbling to return to his previous pristine posture. “You’re an idiot.”

   “Would you rather be walking through this hell-hole with Ron? Because I’m sure he’d be flattered to hear it.”

   “Absolutely not,” Draco snaps. “I just. . . I don’t understand why you’d get yourself in trouble for the sake of somebody else. Surely you have better things to be doing than a late-night detention with me.”

    “Aw, give yourself more credit, Malfoy.”

   He raises a brow.

   You grin. “Although, to be fair, I would much rather be chewing on leather shoes than walking beside you right now.”

    Draco rolls his eyes, nudges your arm in his attempts to make you speed up. “Say that again and you’ll be back here tomorrow night.”

    And that is enough to shut you up immediately.

   ----

    Professor Dolores Umbridge.

    The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, a small woman doused in pink, ruffled with feathers and other fluffy accessories. A woman with a smile and a sweet voice. A woman hiding behind a mask that almost everybody has seen past at this point.

    She’s only been at Hogwarts a handful of months, and already she’s decided she owns the place. You, Ron and Harry scowl when you walk into her classroom to see she has yet to fall into the Hippogriff dens. As per usual, written upon the board in white chalk is the next chapter the class will be forced to read in utter silence whilst their wands are stowed away in their backpacks.

    “I hate her,” you whisper to Ron as the two of you take your seats at the back of the classroom. “Hate. Her.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Hermoine hisses, leaning back so she can talk to you. “You’ve seen what she did to Harry when he spoke out of turn - she won’t let you away with it either, Y/N.”

    You scowl, glaring at the back of her head. “She’s just got something against Harry.”

  “Exactly,” Harry whispers. “And you guys are my best mates, so she has something against you lot, too. By association.”

   “To hell with that. McGonagall surely won’t let her give us a detention just for being your friend.”

   Harry raises a brow; he’s already been through this once with you, but you were too busy arguing with Fred and George about their Nosebleed Nougat to really listen. Nonetheless, you’re aware that Harry went to McGonagall in his attempts to weasel out of his last week of detentions with Umbridge and was told - plain and simple - that she could and would do absolutely nothing to help him out.

    The lesson starts as per usual - with Umbridge reminding the class which chapter they left off at, ordering everyone to open up to the page beginning the next one, and reading everyone that they did not - under any circumstances - need to talk.

    You lower your head to your textbook, skimming the same sentence over and over again. It’s so easy to lose concentration when even just sitting in this room - in silence or not - makes you angry. You don’t want to read, don’t want to learn, don’t want to listen to her stupid, squeaky little voice. You just want to-

     The seat beside you is pulled from beneath the desk. Your head shoots up, eyes widening when you see Draco Malfoy sitting down, pulling his textbook from his bag without so much as a glance in your direction.

   You look up; Umbridge has spotted the latecomer, but merely gives Malfoy a smile that tells you she is in close cahoots with the blonde demons father. You look back up at Malfoy and narrow your eyes.

    “You don’t sit there,” you whisper.

   Draco glances at your textbook, nudging his arm with your own. “What page are we looking at?”

  “Not my problem you were late, Malfoy.”

  He tugs your textbook closer, leans a little further forward to read the page number, and it’s when he does that that you can feel his breath on your lower arm, can feel the warmth of his skin as he gets so close. Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second - you never once believed Malfoy would have warmth. The boy looks too much like a corpse for you to think he has any kind of body heat whatsoever.

   But it’s nice, and he’s very close to you, and you don’t think you like it that much.

   You don’t move away.

    “Half these bleeding chapters don’t even make sense,” Draco mumbles, eyes still scanning the glossy page of your textbook. “I’ve learned nothing since she got the teaching job.”

    You raise a brow. “I could have sworn Umbridge was one of those teachers your head was shoved up.”

    “What made you think that?”

  “Well, she’s a bit of a bitch, isn’t she?” you reply, motioning to the woman sat at her desk, too busy humming away to herself to hear you and Malfoy conversing in the back of her classroom. “I just assumed you liked all the bitchy teachers.”

    “You really do have a foul mouth, don’t you?”

   “You’re avoiding the subject.”

   Malfoy purses his lips and glances at you through the corner of his eye; you, on the other hand, shamelessly stare right back at him, tracing your eyes along his sharp side profile. He really is a pretty boy to look at; the sharp jawline and pointed nose. You always thought he was fairly attractive, despite the amount of times you called him a weasel in your lifetime.

     “I think she’s a lousy teacher,” Draco concludes. “Her policies aren’t too bad-”

  You grunt.

    Draco rolls his eyes. “You only don’t like her because she yells at you all the time.”

   “All teachers yell at me all the time - but at least I deserve it in their classes. She just yells at me because I’m friends with Harry.”

    Draco shifts. “Don’t really blame her.”

  You yank your textbook back to your side of the table, fury suddenly building in your chest. “Oh, go to hell, Malfoy.” 

    This is how it always goes with him - things will be going so well, so smoothly. For a short period of time, you convince yourself he’s a good guy and maybe - just maybe - you’ll be able to get on with him. But then he goes and says something like that, so unnecessary and unjustified that it reminds you how much of a rat he really is. 

     Draco is quiet for the remainder of the lesson, one hand tucked against his cheek as he scans the pages of his own textbook - one he miraculously found just a few minutes after you downright refused to share yours. Although the whole class is silent, it feels a bit more tense where you and Malfoy are sat. He shifts every now and then, and the constant glances shared between you are enough to drive you insane.

    Sometimes you just want him to speak to you, which is weird considering you were the one who shut down the conversation in the first place. Arguing with him, throwing insults back and forth is better than sitting here in this anger-infused silence.

    Class finishes with no slip-up’s between you and Umbridge. She tries to claim you were too noisy when standing up, but whatever punishment she was about to fish out to you is washed away by the crowd of students happily making their way out of her classroom.

     “What did Malfoy want?” is the first thing Ron asks when you finally find each other in the crowded hallways. 

    “Nothing,” you reply. “He was just late and needed a seat.”

   Ron scowls, shooting a glance over his shoulder to where Malfoy and his cronies are standing. “He better not have been causing you any trouble.”

    “No trouble at all.”

   “He wasn’t insulting our parents or anything, was he?”

  “I said he was no trouble at all.” You aren’t sure why you’re snapping; you’re mad at Malfoy, for crying out loud. 

    Ron hauls his bag a little further up his back, still scowling even as he turns away from them. “He winds me up. He’s constantly staring at you. Makes me want to punch him right in his ugly little-”

    “Okay, Ron. I get it. You and Malfoy are sworn enemies.”

    Ron glances at you. “You better be on my side or I swear to god-”

   “Of course I am.” But you’re talking so fast, and Ron knows you better than anybody else. His steps falter, letting you know immediately that he’s picked up on the rush of your tone, the heat in your cheeks, the uncertain lilt to your statement.

    You glance at him through the corner of your eye and quickly mumble, “I’m on your side, Ron.”

    Ron pauses. And then, “Wait till I tell Harry about this. He’s gonna crack up.”

   You grab Ron’s arm when he quickens his pace. “What are you talking about? Ron, stop. Stop right now or I swear to-”

   “You fancy Malfoy!”

    You wince, heart dropping. You nearly stumble over your own two feet in your attempts to slap your hand over Ron’s big mouth, his grin widening beneath your hand. “Shut the hell up, Ronald Weasley!”

    He pries your hand away. “How long has this been happening? And why him? Of all bloody people!”

  “I don’t - I don’t fancy Malfoy!” you hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down - Fred and George have a habit of appearing out of nowhere, and this is the absolute last thing you want them to overhear.

    Ron raises a brow, still grinning manically. “Your face right now tells me differently.”

   “He’s a rat. I’ve hated him since first year. Just because I can’t be bothered listening to you rant about him every few minutes doesn’t mean I have a bleeding crush on him!”

    “And here I was thinking you didn’t have feelings.”

    You close your eyes, running your hands through your hair. “Oh, please be quiet, Ron. Don’t make this into a big deal.”

  “It is a big deal. If he tries anything-”

  “He won’t.”

  Ron pauses, clearly unconvinced but too smart to continue his teasing. You open your eyes, shoot him a pleading look to which he simply rolls his eyes and continues walking down the corridor towards his next class. You take a moment to recompose yourself before jogging to keep up with him.

   “I’d rather you didn’t tell Harry or Hermoine,” you mutter.

   “Of course not.”

  “You’re going to tell them, aren’t you?”

   Ron shrugs. “I won’t for a while, but if anything happens between you two, they deserve to know.”

   “Deserve?”

    “They both hate him as much as I do. Just because I’m supporting you doesn’t mean they will.”

    You purse your lips; he has a point, whether you want to openly admit it or not. Your feelings for Draco Malfoy have never been crystal clear to you, and even now as you refuse to deny them in front of Ron, they’re still not crystal clear. He’s attractive, and you enjoy talking to him, teasing him, but saying you have genuine feelings for him does nothing but make you anxious.

    But at the end of the day, nothing can happen anyway. Draco Malfoy is one person who is completely out of bounds to you, too different from you to even think about anything beyond a friendship.

     --- 

   That night, you can’t sleep.

   Your head hurts. Attempts to tackle your mountain of homework failed immensely, giving you nothing but a migraine and a sense of frustration that teachers are still insisting on giving you piles upon piles of work to do after class hours.

    So you do as you always do, and break the rules by getting out of bed and parading the hallways.

    You’ve gotten good at hiding from Filch throughout the years; with the help of the Marauders Map, it’s not difficult to keep tabs on where the little man is. With the help of your older brothers, you’ve also been able to pinpoint all the decent hiding places, one for each corridor, so you’re safe for now.

     You walk, clutching the map in one hand and your wand in the other. In the distance, you can hear Peeves singing to himself, but you don’t worry too much about him - he likes you, says you’re more like Fred and George than Ron is, so he’ll let you off with a lot more things.

     The corridors are always a little spooky at night; already spooky enough during the day, the cloak of darkness and the eerie silence that comes during the night makes it even worse, but you’ve found yourself enjoying it. The feeling of the unknown has always intrigued you; you get it from your father, you think. He’s forever looking into random little things, things he knows nothing about it, risking it all just to gain a little extra knowledge on a topic nobody else cares about.

    You saunter through the halls tonight, running your fingertips along the bumpy wallpaper. You sigh when you turn the corner, eyes nearly closed with the migraine pumping through your skull, hands gripping-

    “Lower your wand right now.”

   You nearly scream. If not for the shock that takes over your body in an instant, you would have bellowed out for help. But you’re left frozen, mouth open in shock, knuckles turning white with your suddenly enhanced grip on your wand.

   Standing in front of you is Professor Dolores Umbridge, a pink dressing gown wrapped round her shoulders, a beady glare on her face. All that is left to top the ensemble is a set of curlers upon her head.

    “What are you doing out of bed?”

  It seems like the most obvious question, but you struggle to find a response. All you can do is stare at the short woman with your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. She raises a brow, tilts her head and motions to your wand.

    “Do you plan on using that against me, Weasley, or will you put it down before I’m forced to take lethal measures?”

    You quickly stow your wand beneath your bed robes, giving her an uneasy smile. “Sorry, Professor.”

   “No, I don’t think you are.” She shakes her head, tutting as she looks to the ground for a reason you cannot pinpoint. “Again, Weasley, with the misbehaviour. Has my message not gotten through to you a thousand times by now?”

    “I have a migraine,” you reply. “I was going to the infirmary-”

    “You should have a note,” she says quickly, not giving you a chance to properly explain your situation; and yes, your explanation would be sprinkled with little lies, but she wouldn’t need to know that. “I’ve gone so easy on you since the start of term, Y/N, and it seems like you’re taking it for granted now. Being out past curfew is just a step too far.”

     You blink. “Uhhhh…”

    “A week of detentions with me it is,” she says, and your heart drops. “I’ll see you-”

    “There you are! Did you get that thing I asked you to get?”

    You spin around. Approaching is no other than Draco Malfoy, and you silently curse whatever deity is looking over you right now.

    He’s got a grin on his face unlike anything you’ve ever seen from him. Usually adorned with a grimace or a scowl, seeing Draco genuinely smile is like seeing light for the first time. Although unusual, it fits his face perfectly and you very nearly have to grab Umbridge’s fluffy arm to stop your knees from giving out beneath you.

    “Malfoy!” Umbridge gasps. “And what are you-”

  “Oh, you got caught,” says Malfoy, sidling up to your side. “Bloody hell, Y/N - I give you one job.”

  Umbridge blinks. “What are you talking about, Mr Malfoy? Y/N here was parading round the hallways of their own-”

  “I asked her to get me something from the Ravenclaw common room,” Draco says. Your eye twitches, mouth opening, but Draco oh-so-subtly pinches your palm before you can speak up and ruin whatever little deception he’s got going on right now. “You’re not giving Y/N the detention, are you? I asked them to get it for me, and I’ll gladly do the detention with you, Professor.” He beams even brighter. You bite your lip, glancing at Umbridge who seems to be growing more and more shocked as the conversation progresses. 

    “This behaviour is - is - it’s ludicrous!” Umbridge exclaims, stamping her foot on the last word to really drive her point home. “Mr Malfoy, what on earth possessed you to think doing such a thing would be wise? You’re usually such a well-behaved student!”

  You snicker. Again, Draco pinches your palm.

    He looks down in faux shame. “I know, Professor. I deserve a detention.”

    You subtly raise a brow, glancing at Malfoy through the corner of your eye; he’s not even looking at you. He’s got his eyes to the floor, a little frown on his face. He’s being awfully convincing.

    Umbridge sniffs, clearly torn at the idea of giving a Slytherin a detention - not her precious Slytherin. You want to draw back and punch her.

     “Very well, Mr Malfoy,” she says. “I’m afraid that’s a week of detention for you. I’ll see you in my room at ten o clock tomorrow night.”

    Malfoy just nods, the two of you watching as Umbridge turns on her heel and starts marching back up the hallway, too flustered to even bother telling the two of you to head back to your dormitories.

    You whirl on Draco as soon as Umbridge is out of ear shot. He’s already grinning at you, putting his hands up in mock surrender as you slap his arm.

    “A thank you, Draco would do the bloody trick,” he hisses, stumbling back at the force of your abuse.

    “What the hell did you do that for?” you bark. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

    “Again, a simple thank you, Draco would do-”

    You groan, whirling on your heel. A noise escapes the back of Draco’s throat as he leaps forward and grabs your hand, forcing you to turn back and look at him. His blue eyes bore into yours, a stampede of butterflies erupting in your stomach; you try your hardest to ignore those, but it’s difficult. Getting more and more difficult with each passing day.

    “So you’re not even gonna tell me what you’re doing out of bed at this time of night?” he asks, raising a brow. 

    “How did you even know I was awake?”

  “It’s my job as Prefect-”

  “You’re a Prefect?”

   “Shut up! It’s my job as Prefect to make sure nobody is out of bed past hours - technically I should be giving you a detention right now.”

  “Oh, look how that’s turned out.”

    “You owe me one.”

  “I owe you fuck all.” You pry your arm from his grip, but instead of walking away, you fold your arms over your chest. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

     Draco rolls his eyes. “You’ve always been such a stubborn one, haven’t you?”

    “And I’ve also always been able to hold my own.” 

    “I never said you couldn’t.”

  You narrow your eyes. Draco narrows his right back at you; there’s so much going unspoken right now, and it makes you uneasy. There’s a tension that you both clearly feel but neither of you want to address because neither of you are completely sure why it’s there in the first place. 

    Draco breaks first. With a huff of air through his nose, he turns on his heel, though he doesn’t start walking until he says, “Get back to bed, Weasley, or else you will get a detention off me.” Then he’s gone, and you’re too tired and too flustered to call after him, to give back some kind of insult.

    So instead you do as he said, heading back to the girls dormitories. Hermoine is still awake in the common room, hunched over a desk with her homework spread out before her; she looks content, smiling down at a book on Hippogriffs with multiple quills laid beside her. You give her a tiny smile as you walk past,  but her bleary eyes and lack of acknowledgement tells you she isn’t really paying too much attention to the fact you’ve just walked in from the hallways past hours.

    You tuck yourself up into bed and sigh into the air; Draco Malfoy will truly, utterly be the death of you.

     ----

    The next time you see him is at lunch three days later.

   He’d disappeared. You tried to keep yourself calm. You pretended you didn’t even notice his absense, laughing along to jokes at the Gryffindor table, joining Fred and George in even more michief just to get your mind off the fact that Draco wasn’t sitting at the Slytherin table, and he wasn’t insulting you, and he wasn’t making you feel special.

    But three days pass, and you finally corner him.

    He’s got his back turned when you approach, but Ron, Harry and Hermoine went down to visit Hagrid, leaving you on your own; if there’s any time to talk to Draco, it’s now. So you take your chance, moving across the hallway with swift steps before you reach out, tap his shoulder, and-

    He whirls around, eyes wild. His hair is sticking up on end, and as soon as he sees you, he stumbles back into the wall and tries to make a break for it.

    Panic erupts in your system for a reason you can’t pinpoint. Your hands snap out, wrap around his arm and tug him back before he can escape.

   He groans, throwing his head back. “Weasley.”

   “Let’s not do this today,” you hiss under your breath. “Where have you been, Malfoy?”

   “Why do you care?”

  “Because-” You falter; you hadn’t planned a response to that question. You shake your head instead, tightening your grip on his arm. “Just tell me where you were. Have you been going to Umbridge’s detentions?”

    Draco’s arm tenses. You glance down, raise a brow. He tugs his arm back. “Yes, I’ve been going to Umbridge’s detentions. No thanks to you.”

   “I never asked you-”

  “You’ve said.” He turns, grabbing his bag as he does so. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting in Professor Snape’s office in regards to-”

    Your eyes drift down. You’re not sure why; maybe the mention of Professor Snape immediately switched your attention span off and the sight of Draco’s hands curling round the strap of his bag was more exciting. But it’s this simple action that helps you see what Draco is clearly trying to hide.

    A small gasp escapes your lips, and he freezes because he knows. He knows you’ve seen them, knows there’s no way to hide it any more. His eyes squeeze closed, his teeth biting together as he whispers, “Please don’t make a fuss.”     Scribed on the back of Draco’s hand are the words I must not break rules. 

   Your mouth runs dry in an instant. Anger claws at your throat. You slowly reach down and grab his wrist, bringing his hand up to your eyes, and he doesn’t even try fighting you off because he knows there’s no point, it’s too late now, you’ve seen the damage.

    “Draco.” Your voice is a whisper, hoarse and clogged with emotion. “Draco, what did she do?”

  He looks to the floor and says nothing. For the first time in the five years you have known Draco Malfoy, he does not have words. No insult, no snide remark, no cocky little statement to make himself feel better in times when the world is ganging up on him - he’s completely silent, mouth open as if the response is hovering on the brink but not quite reaching the surface just yet.

     You flick your eyes up to his face. “Draco, tell me what she did. Please.”

   “It’s my punishment,” he mumbles. “That’s all.”

  My punishment. His. Like he was the one roaming the hallways when he wasn’t supposed to be, like he’s the one who always thinks he can get away with things, like he’s the one who genuinely deserved the punishment. 

    You drop his wrist and spin on your heel. “I’ll kill her.”

    Draco grabs you round the waist and drags you backwards. You grunt, anger flooding your system, released after months of torment from Professor Umbridge. “Let go of me, Draco. Let go!”

     “Stop,” he hisses in your ear. “Look, the damage has been done, alright? There’s nothing either of us can do now-”

    “I’m telling Dumbledore,” you exclaim. “He can’t just let this continue. Malfoy, let go of me!”

    He tugs you even closer to his chest. “You’re acting out.”

    “Oh, I’ll show you what acting out looks like-”

    “Please.”

  It’s that word coming from his mouth that floors you. Your body goes limp. You collapse against his chest, your head dropping, like all the energy you once possessed has been sapped from your bones all because of Draco’s voice whispering that oh-so-fragile word in your ear.

    He gently spins you around to look at him, taking you by surprise when he cups your face and tilts your head back and forth, giving you a little smile that does not reach his eyes but makes your heart clench nonetheless. 

   “Don’t ask me to ignore this,” you mumble. “This is . . . This is just. . . “

    His thumb traces your lower lip; it’s no longer just a casual gesture between friends. Even you - in all your denial - are able to notice this; the way he’s looking at you, the affectionate way he trails his circular nail against your lower lip. There’s no way it’s friendly.

    “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he replies softly. “I know what kind of temper you’ve got on you, Weasley. It’s much better if I take Umbridge’s punishment than you, or else god knows what’ll end up happening to that poor woman.”

    “Poor woman.” You reach down, winding your fingers through his. “How many more detentions have you got with her?”

    “One,” he replies, running his thumb along the back of your hand. At the raise of your brow, he rolls his eyes and says, “It’s not too bad, Y/N, honestly. I’m braver than you seem to think I am.”

  “You’re a wimp, Malfoy. You probably go back to your dorm and cry after every single one.”

    He scowls. “I’m always so close to giving you a detention.” He leans forward, lowers his voice. “Detention in the library, Weasley.”

    His tone of voice startles you. It’s reflex when you jump back, taking your hand from his and stuffing it inside the deep pockets of your robe, awkwardly coughing into your shoulder. Draco continues to stare, one eyebrow raised, a tiny hint of a smile playing on his face. It’s that same smile that, once upon a time, would have made you want to draw back and punch him, but now does nothing more than make your stomach erupt into butterflies.

     “I have to go,” you say hastily. “I was meant to call Bill a few minutes ago to let him know about all that family drama - you know the stuff with Percy? What a git. Still very mad at him.” You glance over your shoulder. “Uh, so I’ll see you around, yeah? Nice talking.”

    Draco simply nods. You spin on your heel and dart in the opposite direction, heart hammering at a million miles per hour.

   And you’re not bloody stupid - you can recognise flirting when it’s shoved in your face like that. The hand-holding was innocent at first - at least, you thought it was. Yes, it gave you butterflies to feel his skin pressed against your own, and yes, his eyes make your heart melt every time you look into them, but none of that truly means anything at the end of the day.

    However, his tone of voice when giving you a detention was - quite simply - past the point of dishing out a simple punishment, and those are boundaries breached that have been up between you and Malfoy for as long as you can remember.

    You’re not sure whether you want them breached or not.

    ---- 

     Once again, you can’t sleep that night.

   It’s not a migraine keeping you awake this time. It’s not the stress of homework, the dread of seeing an disliked teacher the next day; tonight, sleep evades you because you can’t stop thinking of Draco Malfoy sitting gloomily in Umbridge’s classroom right this very moment, being tormented with a pain he does not deserve, a pain inflicted upon him because he took the fall for a rule you broke.

     You tell yourself that’s the reason you’re getting out of bed; you want to make things right. You’ll go down to Umbridge’s classroom and you’ll tell her the truth, and then you and Malfoy can pretend none of this ever happened. You can go back to insulting each other. You can go back to disliking each other.

     You pull your dressing gown on, quickly check the Marauders Map and head out, ignoring Hermione’s exhausted grunt of “Goodnight” when you pass her in the common room. You double check for Filch or Umbridge herself before heading straight to her classroom, not caring about the noise, or Peeves souring about you, crying out, “Where’s the fire? Where’s the fire?” 

     You reach Umbridge’s door and wrack your knuckles against it. It only takes seconds for the door to swing open and for Umbridge herself to be stood in front of you, her eyes widening.

    “Weasley,” she says, voice high with surprise. “What on earth are you doing here?”

    Malfoy’s own voice drifts from behind Umbridge. “Weasley? Please tell me it’s one of the twins, o-or-”

    “You shouldn’t be out of bed at this time, Y/N,” Umbridge exclaims. “I’m holding a detention right now. Whatever you want to inquire about can surely wait until-”

    “You are one evil little toad, aren’t you?”

    You don’t even know where it came from.

     That wasn’t what you planned on saying at all. You’d approached her door tonight with the intention of telling her it was you roaming the hallways of your own accord the other night; Malfoy had nothing to do with that decision and he has no reason to be sat in her grubby little classroom right now.

    But looking down at her, hearing Malfoy’s voice, knowing what she was doing to him behind closed doors - something just erupts, and you can’t hold it back, and suddenly you’re pushing past her into the classroom where Malfoy sits, straight backed and gaping.

     “Y/N-”

  You march towards him. “Let me see your hand.”

   “What do you-” 

   You snatch his hand up and gaze at the fresh cut scored into the back of it. A fresh surge of anger spears itself through your chest, and suddenly you don’t care about expulsion, or Umbridge’s wrath, or prison - you just want her to pay. You want her to feel pain like the kind she is inflicting upon Malfoy right now. You want her to feel shame for what she’s-

    Draco flips his hand around in your own, grabbing your fingers before you can whirl around and jinx the teacher standing dumbfounded behind you. Your eyes snap to his own, breath leaving you in one clean swoop when you see that foggy essence covering his irises; a silent warning for you to not do anything stupid right now.

    “Draco…,” you whisper.

   He just nods. You don’t know what he’s nodding at, what he means by it, don’t even know if he really knows why he’s doing it, but it creates a sense of calm in your system. You bite your lower lip, trembling slightly as you turn back to Umbridge and say, “Draco didn’t make me leave the Gryffindor dorms the other night.”

  His grip tightens on your hand. “Professor, they’re lying. I told them-”

    “I had a migraine,” you reply. “I leave the dorms all the time to go roaming the hallway - Draco just came across me that night and took the blame. Why, I have no idea.” You shoot him a glare. He glares right back. “But it should be me in here getting them words carved into the back of my hand. Not him.”

    Umbridge’s nostrils flare, truly angry right now, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Draco is running his thumb along the inside of your wrist, this small reminder of his presence being enough to keep you from pulling your wand out and pointing it at Umbridge right this second.

    She flicks her eyes between you and Draco, clearly trying to calm her breathing. You’ve never seen her so angry; part of Umbridge’s “charm” is her ability to say the most hurtful, terrible things in a completely sweet and innocent tone. It’s one of the reasons you hate her so deeply.

    “This is. . . This is . . . unbelievable.” She pulls her wand out. Draco freezes. You closely follow her movements. “Never in my thirteen years of teaching have I come across a Prefect who would lie to clearly to my face.”

    “He was lying for me,” you bark, stepping in front of Draco. “I’m the one who deserves the punishment, okay? Keep him out of this.”

    “DON’T talk to me like that, Weasley, do you understand me?” She thrusts her wand towards you, gritting her teeth. “This is unacceptable. You must think you can get away with everything, do you? Well, not whilst I’m here.”

     She marches past you, snatches the pen from Draco’s hand and flicks her wand; she says nothing, but you can clearly see something shift within the pen. It sparkles a little differently, and when she presses it against the page and starts writing, it’s not her own hand that feels the effects of the spell - it’s yours.

    A sharp pain suddenly sinks into the back of your hand. You gasp, more from surprise than the pain, but the pain sinks in shortly after. Draco stands up immediately, head flicking back and forth as he tries to figure out what’s happening.

     And then he growls, pulls his wand out and yells, “Expellirmus!”

    “Draco, no!”

    Umbridge’s hand snaps backwards so fast you’re almost certain her shoulder has dislocated. She cries out, stumbling back as the pen goes flying through the air, crashes into the wall behind her and splits right down the middle. Ink dribbles down the wall, burning a trail in the paint.

     Draco pants. “Touch Weasley again, Professor, and I’ll have my father in here quicker than you can blink.”

    Umbridge stares. No words. No retort. No decree to pass. She simply stares, and as if the mention of Lucius Malfoy has paralysed her, she does not make a single move. You stand behind Draco, watching the unusual scene unfold until Draco finally snaps, stows his wand back beneath his cloak and grabs your hand instead. He drags you from the classroom, still breathing heavily, cheeks still flushed with adrenaline.

    As soon as you’re both far enough away from Umbridge’s classroom, he pushes you into a side alley and lifts your hand to his face. “Does it hurt?”     “What just happened?”

   “Y/N, does it hurt?”

  “It’s okay.” You glance down at the words carved there: Blood traitor. “She could have been a bit more original.”

    Draco groans, and before you can register what he’s going to do, he’s leaned forward and is pressing his lips to yours. 

    You’re confused and your hand hurts and you still have no idea what you have just witnessed, but there’s something in the way Draco’s mouth fits perfectly against your own that stops you caring for a second. You melt into him, wanting to cry and scream at the same time as the exhaustion and the nights events overtake you, but Draco’s arms around you keep you from completely buckling.

     He pulls away and presses his forehead against your own. “You are the stupidest git I have ever had the pleasure of interacting with, Y/N Weasley.”

    You close your eyes. “Go to hell, Malfoy.” And then you kiss him again, because you can.

   ----

    “I am in love with Y/N.”

    Ron blinks. You keep a close eye on him, one hand placed in Draco’s, the other gripping your wand in case you have to zap Ron backwards last minute.

    Despite Draco’s previous insistance that he doesn’t care what Ron thinks, his palm is sweaty and his cheeks are bright red. He stands straight backed, as if he’s addressing some member of the Ministry, and he’s talking with a formal little lilt that makes you want to laugh.

    Ron’s eyes flick between you and Draco, waiting for a punchline he will not be receiving.

    Carefully, you say, “And I am in love with Draco.”

   Ron’s shoulders slump forward. “So that’s it then? I owe Ginny a fiver?”   It takes a minute for his words to settle. When they do, you reel back like you’ve been slapped. “What?”

   “You two couldn’t have held it off for a little bit longer, could you? At least till after Christmas, for Christs sake.” He shakes his head, stands up and fishes five galleons from his back pocket. “That’s my lunch completely ruined. I’ve only got enough for three chocolate frogs out of the vending machine, and they won’t keep me full through Divination, will they?”

   Draco tilts his head. “Is this serious?”

    Ron points a finger in Draco’s direction. “Whilst we’re on the topic, yeah, you don’t mess about with Y/N, alright? I don’t want to have to comfort another one of my family members; Mum’s enough as it is.”

    “So you’re alright with it?” you say, stepping a little closer to Malfoy; despite having claimed that nothing between you and Draco will change if Ron has a sour attitude, you still stood a little bit away from him just to give Ron the chance to ease into the news. 

     Ron shrugs. “Obviously I’d prefer someone else for you, but I’ve seen how happy this git makes you.” He points in Draco’s direction. “I don’t get it, personally, but that’s none of my business.”

     “You’re right there,” you say, before softening your voice and giving Ron a smile. “Thanks, Ron. I appreciate it.”

    Ron scoffs. “If you really appreciated it, you’d buy me lunch.”

   “No. Get some sweets off Fred and George.”

  Ron looks at you like you have two heads. “And risk suffocating? I don’t think so. I’ll starve, thank you very much.”

[cafedanslanuit]

thank you for your request, you’re too kind ;-; and your english is good! <3 i hope you’re doing fine, sending you a big hug <3

trigger-warning: self-harm. please, if you’re going through a rough time, remember you’re not alone, even if it feels that way. ask for help to a friend, a teacher, your parents or anyone you trust. remember there’s no shame in going to a mental health specialist, whether it’s a psychologist or a psychiatrist. it’s going to get better. you’re going to be so proud of yourself in the future for making it through this rough time <3

Zen

He wasn’t home during your breakdown, so he just noticed when you changed into your pajamas

He saw the bruises and immediately asked about them, if you had fallen and why you hadn’t told him so he can soothe the bruises and make sure they don’t last longs you know he’s an actor

You explained quietly you had a rough episode a few hours ago. You had managed to calm yourself down, but after taking a shower you realized you had left bruises.

He put his arms around your body and whispered how much he loved you and that you shouldn’t that to yourself. He kept reminding you how much you were loved, holding your body close until you drifted to an easy sleep. He kissed your head and nuzzled his face into your shoulder, wishing this was the last time you felt that way.

Yoosung

He had his headphones on while playing so he really didn’t listen to you crying. But he got up to grab his phone charger, took off his headphone and heard you sniffling

He almost ran to the living room, where you were sitting on a coach, crying softly and idly punching your thighs.

Yoosung quickly stopped your movement and made you look at him. He was scared, but helped you calm down until you could manage to tell him what had made you feel so frustrated.

He prepared you something to eat and then snuggled you on the coach, leaving his videogames behind. His priority was to make sure you were safe now.

Jaehee

You were both in bed. She was working on her laptop while you were reading a book.

“Could you grab this for a moment?” she said, putting her open laptop on your lap, grabbing a folder from the nightstand. She noticed you winced and immediately took the laptop off.

“Are you okay? What happened to your legs?”

You tried to brush it off but it was really difficult to do so when your girlfriend looked so concerned as she did. You finally confessed you had had a breakdown when she was at work and that you had ended up with some bruises.

She took your hand as you told her how it all started and how you knew it was a bad coping mechanism. Jaehee suggested you consult with a psychologist, and that she could help you find one you feel comfortable with. You agreed to check with her in the morning.

She prepared you a cup of tea and then watched as you fell asleep easily after finally talking about what was on your mind. She would be right next to you whenever you needed to.

Jumin

He had wanted to surprise you, but it didn’t turn out the way he wanted. The first sound that came to his ears when he opened the door was you, crying.

Jumin quickly started looking for you, finally finding you on the edge of your bed, punching your thighs as your whole body trembled.

He almost ran to you and grabbed your wrists, stopping you from harming yourself any further. He kneeled in front of you asked you what was happening. You refused to talk to him.

Seeing you were too upset to explain, Jumin lowered his gaze, noticing your thighs were red and swollen and would most likely bruise. He felt his heart break. Without giving it much thought, he pressed the softest kiss on your right thigh, and then on the left. There wasn’t a drop of lust in his moves, just the desperation of a man not knowing what to do.

His gesture made you cry again, but now because you could tell how much he was in love with you. You held his face between your hands and made him look at you.

“I’m sorry” you whispered. “I– Okay. Let’s talk”

You told him about the gossip television show you had been watching, when suddenly they started talking about you. The new ‘mistress’ of one of the most desired bachelors of Korea. How she apparently didn’t care for her appearance (and you swore to God you tried to hard, but somehow they didn’t notice), how she was below average looking and how he could do so much better than ‘the western joke’ he paraded around.

Jumin listened in silence, not moving an inch from his crouched position. When you were done, he held your hands and kissed them.

“I don’t care what anybody else says about you. You shouldn’t either, but I know it might be easier said than done. But if you’re going to listen to anyone, listen to me now: you’re breathtaking. I can’t wait for you to be my wife so we can finally fall asleep next to each other. I can’t wait to see your face as soon as I wake up. You’re warm and kind, and you don’t expect anything in return. You made me open up my heart, which I didn’t think was possible. I can trust you with my life. So please, be kinder to yourself. Please” he pleaded.

You nodded and went in for a kiss.

Saeyoung

He knew what it was even before you could come up with an excuse to why you had bruises on your thighs. You were asleep, not noticing the sheet wasn’t covering your body any longer, so your boyfriend could see you in your pajama shorts and bruises on your thighs.

Saeyoung didn’t know when he started crying, but when some tears fell on your bruised skin, he immediately wiped his face. He started caressing your thighs, tears still falling. He didn’t notice when you woke up. As soon as you noticed he had seen your bruises you gasped, failing to cover them again.

“Saeyoung, I– I fell and…

“Don’t” he sighed. He wiped his face again and looked at you with a broken smile. “I know I’m not the most– I’m not good at opening up but… please, try for me? It hurts seeing you like this.”

“You have so much work and–”

“My work means shit” he quickly said. “You’re the most important thing I have, along with Saeran. And I don’t wanna lose either of you. So find me, talk to me. Okay?”

You took a deep breath. “Okay”

V

“I’m so sorry!” you whimpered when he finally found the bruises. “I– I thought I could manage on my own. I don’t want you taking care of me, you’ve done enough. I don’t want you to repeat the cycle of taking care of someone else’s problem” you explained, lowering your gaze. “I’ll ask for an appointment at the hospital, just– don’t think about it, I can manage”

“If you want to go to an appointment with a psychologist, it’s okay. I’ll drive you there every time you need to go. But MC…” he sighed, lifting your chin so you could look at him. “I think you were the one that told me I shouldn’t keep my problems to myself. You taught me I can’t manage it all on my own and that I should trust the people I love. So now… please trust me. We can do this together.”

“But you’ve been someone else’s caretaker for so long, it’s not fair” you sighed.

“Yes, that’s true. But this isn’t me being your caretaker. This is us being a team. I’ve been trying to be more open about my struggles, right?” he asked with a soft smile. You nodded. “So, let’s take care of ourselves. Together”.

Saeran

He noticed the bruises when you were back from the shower, a towel around your body. He didn’t say anything and pretended to be asleep. But he couldn’t get any rest that day. From someone who had been punched several times, he knew what those marks were from.

Saeran talked about it on his weekly appointment with his psychologist. She suggested that he talked to you, but he didn’t feel you were going to be honest about it.

Still, he tried. You assured him it was a one time only and wouldn’t happen again. You were frustrated about messing up dinner and things escalated.

Three days later, he pretended to fall asleep when you entered the shower. When you came back and sat on the bed, he opened his eyes a little noticing how you had scratches on your shoulder.

He couldn’t rest that night either.

“Remember when I said I wanted to get married?” he asked in the morning. You turned around to look at him. “And you said we should wait until I had made progress in therapy because you wanted me to be healthy so I could enjoy being married?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I remember that. Why?”

“I want you to be healthy too, you know. When I finally get better” he said, turning his head to you. You furrowed your eyebrows, playing dumb. “I saw your shoulders last night” he mentioned and you felt your face going pale.

You started talking about how it had started a couple of months ago. How you would get frustrated, sad, angry and it always ended up with you hitting yourself. But you wanted to prioritize him and thought it would get better on its own, but now you feared it wouldn’t.

He listened to you and then cradled you on his chest. He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

“I’m doing fine. Well– better. So, don’t worry. You had my back so much time, now I got yours. Forever”.

Saeran asked his psychologist for a recommendation at his next appointment. You ended up making an appointment in the same clinic at the same time, so you could be there for each other when your separate sessions were done. It was definitely comforting to go for ice cream with him, knowing it was, somehow, going to get better.