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wkemeup · 4 years ago

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Sunrise (2)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, hella nervous!bucky, dangerously sweet!y/n 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“What the hell do you mean ‘you’re not going’?”

Bucky shrugged, taking a bite of the bagel Steve picked up on his way to the apartment. He flinched as Steve flung open the curtains, expelling a cloud of dust as the sunlight invaded the living room, illuminating over months of untouched mail on the coffee table and crumbs in the carpet.

Sam kept his eyes burning on Bucky from the other end of the table. “You can’t back out now, Barnes. She’s expecting you!”

“What’s this about again?” Steve asked as he slid into the chair beside Bucky.

“Book club. Y/n. Barnes is being a coward again,” Sam explained a little too nonchalantly for Bucky's taste.

“I’m not being a coward,” Bucky grumbled, avoiding Sam’s eyes and very much proving his friend’s point. “I’ve just— I’ve got better things to do.”

He regretted it the moment it left his lips because both Sam and Steve exchanged a less than subtle, irritatingly familiar glance.

“Yeah, like what?” Steve scoffed. He extended his arms out to gesture to the empty apartment. “You got tons of plans this week? Think you might see sunlight again or did someone hang garlic in the hallway?”

“Shut up,” Bucky warned, rolling his eyes. It had been a few days since he’d ventured out to the VA for the first time and it was more than he’d done in weeks. It should have been enough for these two, but it never was. They always wanted more out of him. They couldn’t just leave him to rot in his apartment, could they?

“It’s Sunday, you know,” Sam said, devilish smirk rising on his face.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I’m well aware.”

“Come on, man!” Sam groaned, slamming his hand on the table enough to cause a ripple in the coffee mugs. “I saw the way you were looking at her. You can’t tell me seeing her again isn’t a good enough reason to go...”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed red. They burned hot on his skin and it only seemed to make it worse. He’d never been like this before he was discharged – flustered and easily embarrassed. He supposed before he came home with one less limb and baggage the size of his living room, he didn’t have much to be embarrassed about. He was a flirt, a bit shameless about it, too. He’d had girlfriends and hookups and never thought much about it.

But now? The vague idea of even presuming to be interested in a woman was borderline laughable. What chance could he possibly have? He was washed up and broken, missing a few pieces, and half off his rocker. There wasn’t a chance in hell you’d go for a guy like him. It was easier to just pretend like he didn’t care, give into the empty void he believed his heart to be, and waste away.

“Seeing her again isn’t a good enough reason to go,” Bucky said flatly, much to Sam’s annoyance. It was a bold-faced lie, one all three of them were well aware of, but it didn’t mean Bucky needed to give them the satisfaction of admitting it.

He thought of you in that sunset red sweater, holding a book tight to your chest with that sort of bright starlight look in your eyes as you listened intently to a retired vet go on and on about his personal connection to some corny book. He’d only met you for maybe a span of a few minutes, and still, he could somehow still picture your smile. He wanted to see it again.

But there was a sharp pain in his left arm; it burned, enough for Bucky to reach across his chest and try to put pressure on it, only to slip through thin air and land against his ribs. The pain remained, like an extension of himself, on an arm that was no longer apart of him. There and not there all at once. He groaned.

“It’s not a good enough reason, Sam,” Bucky repeated. “I’m not going. She probably won’t even notice.”

Another lie.

Sam shook his head, the smile quickly leaving his face in favor of one Bucky knew all too well. Disappointment. Frustration. The thing was, it didn’t hurt as much when Bucky was purposeful in creating it.

“I thought you liked her?” Steve asked cautiously, eyes catching Sam’s for only a moment before he turned back to Bucky. They’d been talking about him. He hated when they did that.

“I don’t even know her, Steve,” Bucky shot back. He shouldn’t be getting angry with them. They were only trying to help. And yet here he was – pushing away the only two people left in his life that still managed to tolerate him. He rubbed at the stubble on his jaw, trying to push past it. “She’s nice, okay? She’s pretty. Is that what you want me to say?”

Steve sat back in his chair, exhausted. “I want you to be happy, Buck.”

Bucky scoffed. “Yeah, well, shoulda thought of that before I got myself blown up.”

“Bucky--”

“Let it go, man,” Sam sighed, setting a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

Bucky felt like he could sink straight into his chair. Why did he always do this?

“I hope you change your mind,” Sam said simply, gathering up his things as he and Steve started to make their way to the door. “It could be good for you.”

Bucky knew what he meant by that, the underlaying message hidden just beneath the surface: she could be good for you.

Right on cue, the pain started up again in his arm that was both there and not there, and Bucky tried to grit his teeth through it, though Sam could spot the tells almost immediately: his right-hand gripping to the arm rest, the flinch in his jaw, the short tense breaths.

Sam sighed, pausing in the door frame. “We’ll be back in a few days. Try to clean up the place, will you? It’s a shithole in here.”

“Ma said she’d bake you cobbler if you promise to eat it,” Steve offered, too hopeful for his own good. It had been Bucky’s favorite once; the sort of dessert he talked about on desert nights when the mess hall served day old meatloaf and bland potatoes. He didn’t have much of an appetite these days.

Bucky forced out a smile for his friend’s sake and nodded.

A familiar silence swept over the apartment as the door closed behind them. It had been a comfort once; a darkness that swept around his shoulders like a blanket. It kept him isolated and suffocated and still, safe.

Now, it mocked him.

He stared at the knob on the door, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table. He’d done this about a dozen times before, trying to convince himself to do something more with his days than waste away in an expensive one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

Steve was right. What the hell else was he going to do today? Stare at the wall for a few hours? Pretend to watch TV and not catch a single word of dialogue? Make a meal he wouldn’t eat?

He thought of you again. How you might scan the room in search of him and a frown might pull at the corner of your lips to not find him amongst the crowd. He wondered if you’d be dressed in yellow or orange or if you’d resemble a cloudless sky as the sun touched over the peaks of the city in soft pinks and purples.

He wanted to know so badly it was killing him.

“Fuck.”

He dragged his feet to the bedroom to find something half decent to wear.

***

It had been a less than ideal start to your day.

The children’s reading presentation at the library got a little out of hand when the speaker – a local theater student – got caught up in the voices and scared half of the toddlers to tears as he took some interesting liberties with The Cat in the Hat.

Then, a rather unpleasant woman yelled at you for twenty minutes about a man sleeping on the bench outside the near the entrance as if it were a personal affront that this man, a little down on his luck, dared to catch a few minutes of sleep in a public place.

The internet was shotty all day, leaving a few college students red in the face and with fat tears matching those of the toddlers in the next room over when hours' worth of work had suddenly disappeared in front of their eyes.

And of course – the teenagers. A band of four boys who hid under the brim of baseball caps with skateboards tucked under their arms, who found it rather amusing to stalk out the adult section and flip through the sorts of novels with bare chested men on the cover until their snickering could be heard from the floor below.

It warranted a coffee, at least.

The only solace was that it was Sunday. Your favorite day of the week. It meant a few hours at the VA and catching up with the guys. You hadn’t seen Natasha in a while and you were hoping to see how her new job at the security firm had gone. She was exceptionally qualified and you were almost certain you had her interview answers memorized by the time you’d finished practicing together.

But there was something different about this Sunday, something that left a few butterflies in your stomach where an easy contentment usually belonged. You were nervous, but there was an excitement, too.

There’d be a new face in attendance.

A beautiful face.

A face that you imagined required a double take were you to see it for the first time on a busy street.

“You’re smiling again there, darling.”

You looked up to find Mrs. Jefferson keeping a careful eye on you from over the top of her reading glasses. She wore a smile upon her face, one that blended into the laugh lines by her eyes. Her hand trembled with a familiar quiver as she reached up and slid the glasses off her nose. They rested comfortably on a purple beaded chain as they hung around her neck.

“You always have so much going on inside that head of yours,” she quipped, chuckling to herself. She was a slow mover as she turned to the computer to begin typing in her code. “Have you checked out the books for the VA yet?”

“Already done,” you confirmed, your mind still a little in the clouds. Coffee would definitely need to be a requirement before you stepped foot in the VA.

“Get a move on then,” Mrs. Jefferson said, gesturing to the door with a trembling hand. “I know you like to get donuts for the kids.”

You still had a few minutes left on shift, but Mrs. Jefferson was always so understanding. She had a son who was in the military once who saw about four tours. Always had a habit of going back, she’d said, like he was testing his luck. You weren’t sure how he’d died, but you knew he didn’t have the chance to go back for a fifth.

She was a part of a group no one wanted to be in: those who have lost someone to war. Membership cost was steep and there was no going back once it was paid. It was a lonely group, one far too many people occupied. Your own membership card was heavy in your pocket.

You glanced toward the door. The sun was shining bright on the pavement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

She smiled. “Yes, of course, dear. Tell the boys I said hello.”

“Yes, ma’am!” you called as you gathered your things and the shoulder bag stuffed with books and quickly scurried out the door before another disaster could reel you back inside.

The sun was warm on your skin and you took a minute to savor it before shoulders started to bump into you, forcing you off balance. You could see your breath in the autumn air, and still, the sun touched your cheeks and left behind a comfort there. Smile on your face, heavy bag draped over your shoulder, you resided to grab coffee and donuts at a café close to the VA before book club started.

It was one you visited a few times before, right across the street from a painfully busy Starbucks. The quaint coffee shop was often empty inside, save for a few college students with headphones in, typing away at their laptops, and a regular you often saw nursing a black coffee by the front windows, watching the people as they walked by.

It smelled of coffee beans as you stepped inside. Fresh. Aromatic. You took in a deep breath.

“Ah, Y/n!” a voice called from the back in a thick Colombian accent. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Hi, Luciana,” you laughed as the woman who owned the shop rounded the corner behind the counter and ran out to give you a hug. She was a tiny woman, short and shout, but her hugs could render even a giant of a man to a puddle.

“Donuts for your friends down at the VA again?” she asked, releasing you from her embrace, though she still managed to pinch your cheek on the way out.

“Yes, please!”

“And coffee for yourself?”

She knew you too well.

“I could use a bit of a pick-me-up,” you admitted. She knew your order by heart.

“You should see if that Sam wants to have some good coffee for a change at his next event instead of the bean water he serves our veterans now,” Luciana inquired as she pulled on a pair of gloves and began to stack your box with assorted donuts. She had that smile on her face you recognized well. She asked about Sam a lot.

“I’ll be sure to get his thoughts,” you replied, trying to stifled a smile.

“Have him come by,” she offered rather smoothly. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen his pretty face and I could use a little pick-me-up myself.”

She winked at you and set the box of donuts on the counter. Then, your coffee; lid pressed on top, cardboard around the edges to protect from heat. You reached for your wallet but she snuck her hand over the counter and grabbed your wrist.

“No, no, not today, my dear. My treat.”

You parted your lips to protest but she shook her again.

“Tell those kids to come visit me every once in a while, okay? I’ve got a discount for ‘em,” she offered, bright smile over painted red lips. She waved you off and you knew there was no arguing with her.

“That’s very kind of you, Luciana. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

“So will my business, dear.” There was that wink again.

You laughed, heading for the door. “I’ll see you next week!”

The bell rang on your way out.

The VA wasn’t more than a few blocks from Luciana’s, but the bag piled high with books was starting to weigh on your shoulder. It didn’t help that you had to weave expertly between the pedestrians to balance your coffee and the donut box, too; tourists walking about 10 mph too slow and locals stuck in their path with no qualms of shoving you out of their way if you managed to jump in their trajectory.

As you approached the VA, the crowd began to disperse. There weren’t too many people who frequented this street as there was little more than the VA building itself to occupy the tourists. You were surprised to find a man standing in front of the doors, staring up at the building as if it offended him in some way.

Dark brown hair tucked under a baseball cap, just barely peeking out at the nape of his neck. Right hand tucked deep into his pocket, rigid in his stance as he stared down the double doors. He was talking to himself, you realized, judging by the soft clouds of chilled air by his mouth.

James Barnes.

Bucky.

A smile suddenly took over your face, enough that you had to bite down on the edge of your lip in an effort to suppress it. You’d hoped he would come, but Sam had talked about his friend Bucky long before you met him in the empty library of the VA a few days prior. He didn’t say ‘yes’ to much of anything and he seemed to be the sort of soldier that got left behind by the system when he returned home.

But he was sweet. You could tell that just from the small interaction you’d had. Quiet. A little flustered. Maybe reserved. But he had beautiful eyes; blue, like they could capture even the faintest colors in the sky and the sweep of a current in the Mediterranean. He’d only barely lifted the corner of his lips to a smile that day and it left you wondering how lovely he was when it touched his eyes.

“Bucky!” you called, moving a little quicker now as you approached, but he didn’t seem to hear you. Still focused on his staring match with the building, it seemed. For a moment, it seemed as though he might be turning to leave and your stomach twisted.

You were nearly at his side, a little out of breath when you called his name again and it registered this time. Only, it must have startled him because an arm jutted out in your direction, knocking the coffee from your hands. You were too stunned to do much of anything about it as they coffee flung itself to the pavement, the contents spilling to the ground and over your sneakers. You clutched the box of donuts tight to your chest.

Bucky froze, almost as still as a statue, his eyes focused on the coffee spilled on the sidewalk. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitch and slowly, his eyes drew up to meet yours. He stared at you for a moment, mouth falling agape. His ears were burning red.

Then, he seemed to come back to reality as he blinked a few times, his eyes darting from the shock on your face to the coffee on the sidewalk.

“Y/n! Shit—fuck! I am—so sorry,” he started to ramble, his hand reaching out, though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “I didn’t realize you were-- fuck—”

“It’s alright, Bucky,” you tried to ease him, a laugh in your voice. “Don’t worry about it. Probably didn’t need the caffeine anyway.”

“I should, um,” he looked around desperately, scanning the street for the nearest coffee shop, his hand clenching and releasing at his side in a repetitive squeeze. It was really sort of sweet. “Let me buy you a new one.”

You smiled at him and he softened a bit. “That’s really not necessary.”

He gritted his teeth as you bent down to pick up the empty cup and shook the excess coffee off your shoes. They were old sneakers anyway and you were looking for a halfway decent excuse to get new ones. Then came a shy ex-soldier barreling in from the sky with a strong aversion to your coffee.

“I knew this was a bad idea...”

He was talking to himself, grumbling under his breath, and you realized why he was staring at the building for so long. You took a step closer to him, studying the way his chewed on the inside of his cheek and shoved his right hand into his pocket.

“Is it?” you asked.

Blue eyes flickered to yours, brows furrowed. He didn’t think you’d heard him. “Sorry?”

You just smiled at him, shaking your head. You’d been working at the VA long enough to recognize the man behind the soldier; one who’d been beaten and bruised and left to waste the second he was dropped back on American soil. Constantly beating himself up, constantly wondering if he was doing the wrong thing and struggling to be the version of himself he was before the war.

“So, James Barnes,” you grinned, “you decide if you’re coming in or not? It’s a little chilly out here. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

Bucky stared back at you, unsure. But you could see the tension easing off his shoulders. His right hand was hanging back at his side again as his eyes flickered up to the doors again.

“Come on.” You smiled at him again and you noticed pretty quickly that he softened when you did that. It made your stomach flutter. You took a step forward, hoping he’d follow behind. “There’s shitty coffee inside we can share before book club starts.”

“I don’t even know what you’re reading,” he admitted, that sweet nervousness taking over again.

“You don’t need to,” you shrugged and his brow scrunched up again, confused. You glanced back at the doors. “Well, I’m going inside. I hope I see you there.”

With that, you turned and shouldered your way through the doors, donut box clutched tight to your chest. You waited by the entrance until you heard the soft grumble of a graveled voice outside, and then, footsteps as they approached the door.

You smiled.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes

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hyogonokitsune · 4 years ago

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longing -- suna rintarou x reader

college!au, tw alcohol use, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of angst, some smut at the end because I can’t fucking help myself 🥴 (oral -- m and f receiving, choking, creampie, cockwarming hnnff)

11,600 words

“Hey, ‘Samu, I gotta go lie down.” You had to practically yell to hear yourself over the music blaring from the speakers. Osamu was less than two feet from you, but you might as well have been yelling from a mile away.

“Huh?”

“I said I gotta go—fuck! Where’s your room?” You had to speak directly into his ear to make yourself understood; Osamu leaned in close to respond to you.

You hadn’t had that much to drink, but the atmosphere of the party was wearing you down. The insanely loud music and the crush of so many sweaty bodies were starting to give you a headache, and you were in desperate need of a quiet place to recharge. Most of the people were crowded into the living areas of the house, so you decided to escape to your friend’s upstairs bedroom to catch your breath.

You shut his door behind you, muffling the sounds of the party downstairs, and laid down on the bed, closing your eyes. Even here, you could feel the bass pounding in your head.

The door opened then, but when you lifted your head to look, it wasn’t Osamu standing in the room. You groaned; you definitely were not in the mood to deal with a random guy.

“Can I help you?” you asked in a hard voice, sitting up to look at him better.

“Can I help you?” he replied, utterly deadpan. He walked over to the desk in the corner and plugged his phone into a charger, his back facing you. “You’re in my room.”

“What? This is Osamu’s room.”

“’Samu’s room is the last door on the left. This is the last one on the right.” He turned around to look at you, his expression indifferent.

Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake, quickly hopping off his bed. “I’m so sorry! I must have misheard him. I just needed to get away from there,” you explained, gesturing towards the door.

He smirked at you. “Too much to drink?”

“No, there are just too many people down there, felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

His expression softened at your words. “Yeah, that’s why I came up here, too.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” you said, moving towards the door.

“You’re Osamu and Atsumu’s friend, right?” he said, stopping you. “They said one of their old friends was gonna come over tonight.”

Your hand dropped from the doorknob as you nodded, telling him your name.

“I’m Suna,” he said.

“Oh! You went to high school with them, right? They’ve told me about you.”

“Nothing good, I bet,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin.

“Almost all good things,” you responded truthfully.

“’Almost’”, he repeated, a low laugh escaping him. Suna watched you for a moment, looking as if he was thinking about something. “You can hang out here, if you want,” he said, motioning for you to sit back on the bed as he pulled out his desk chair. “As long as you don’t puke on anything.”

“I told you, I didn’t drink that much!” you huffed, but you sat down all the same. You had wanted to get away from all the noisy people downstairs, but this guy seemed laidback enough that he wouldn’t make your headache worse; besides, you were interested in talking to someone who had known the twins in high school.

Suna put on a playlist from his phone, setting the volume just loud enough to block out the house music blasting from downstairs. “You’ve known them a while, yeah?”

You nodded. “Since we were kids, but I didn’t go to Inarizaki with them.”

“Good call.”

“They’re not that bad!” you laughed. “Don’t tell them this, but I actually missed seeing them every day, so it’s nice that we ended up going to the same university.”

“Maybe I will tell them that, then they’ll spend more time harassing you instead of me.”

“Don’t you dare.”

You both laughed then, before falling into an easy silence. You shifted to get more comfortable on his bed, crossing your legs underneath you.

“Do you not like parties?” you asked.

“They’re alright,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m not too crazy about having ten thousand strangers in my house, though.”

You hummed in agreement, nodding your head. “Yeah, what’s fun about having random drunk people sweating all over you? I’d rather just hang out with a few friends, ya know?”

He snorted. “Hopefully it’ll be more like that in the future, but Atsumu really wanted to throw a big party for the start of the semester.”

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes. “He just wanted to introduce himself to as many girls as possible.”

“Yeah, that was his not-so-secret motive.”

There was another pause. Suna scrolled through his phone, searching for something.

“You wanna see some embarrassing photos of the twins?”

“Yes, absolutely I do.”

He grinned, unplugging his phone to come sit next to you on the bed. He leaned in close, tilting his screen so you could see it. “Oh, here’s a good one,” he said, trying to suppress a smile as he showed you a picture of Osamu lying face down on the ground. “He tripped when we were jogging, completely ate shit.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the image, especially with Atsumu in the foreground holding up a peace sign over his brother’s body.

Most of the photos were of the two of them fighting; having grown up with the twins, it was a little comforting to see that they acted the same around their new friends as they always had with you. You felt somewhat nostalgic at the thought.

Suna paused on a closeup photo of Atsumu, his eyes red and puffy as he tried to swat the camera away. “Ah, this was after he got rejected by a girl and he swore he wasn’t crying.”

“Oh my god, I totally remember that day!” you said, laughing hard. “’Samu called me, begging me to talk some sense into ’Tsumu because he kept whining about being turned down.”

“Seriously? God, knowing that makes this so much better,” Suna said, a crooked grin on his face.

“Please don’t tell him I told you that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

He showed you nearly three years’ worth of pictures, pausing at the memorable ones to tell you the stories behind them. It was easy talking to him; you felt able to laugh naturally and relax around him despite being strangers, something that you weren’t able to do with most people you just met.

You didn’t realize how long you and Suna had been talking until you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket; seeing that it was a call from Osamu, you answered it.

“Y/n, did you leave?”

You were surprised by the panicky note in his voice. “No, I told you I was going upstairs.”

“Yeah? Well where the fuck are ya, ’cause I’m standing in my room and you’re not in here.”

“I’m in Suna’s room—”

Before you could finish your sentence, you heard footsteps stomp across the hall and the door flew open.

“What the hell are ya doing in here?” Osamu asked, still holding his phone up to his cheek.

“We’re fucking, obviously,” Suna deadpanned. You giggled, but Osamu didn’t look amused.

“I got the rooms mixed up, ’Samu,” you explained, getting up off the bed. “Suna’s just been telling me about your time in high school.”

“Oh, great,” Osamu said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s late, you want me to walk ya back to your dorm?”

“Can you even walk, or are you too drunk?”

“It’s Atsumu you should be worried about. He fell asleep on the couch downstairs.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” you laughed. You made your way over to Osamu, turning at the door to address Suna. “It was nice talking to you, I guess I’ll see you around.”

He was scrolling through his phone again, only giving you a brief disinterested glance. “Yeah, see you.”

You poked your head into Osamu’s room, only to find that it was empty. It was a little disappointing; you had been hoping to hang out with him for a bit, since you hadn’t had time to see much of him that week, but if he wasn’t around there was nothing to be done about it. The book you had borrowed from him a few weeks ago was already in your hand, so you placed it on his desk and turned to leave.

Stepping back into the hallway, you noticed that the door across from Osamu’s was open. You casually glanced inside as you walked past, catching Suna’s eye from where he sat in front of his laptop.

“Hey,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he parroted as he took his headphones off his ears.

“I came by to return a book that Osamu lent me, but I guess he’s not around.”

“I think he’s meeting with a professor.”

“Ah.” You fell silent, and Suna turned his attention back to his laptop. “What are you reading?” you asked.

He looked up again, his expression a little sheepish. “You’re gonna think it’s boring.”

“Try me.”

He sighed. “It’s an article analyzing the influence of Shakespeare’s histories on English nationalism.”

Your face brightened as you spoke. “That was published last week, right? I bookmarked that so I could read it when I got the chance.”

Suna looked surprised at your response, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s pretty interesting so far.”

“I have to say, though, you didn’t strike me as the type to be into that kind of stuff,” you said, just a hint of a teasing tone in your voice.

His expression was blank again as he responded, “Well, I am a literature major.”

“So am I!” you said, smiling at him as you walked into his room and leaned against his desk. “I don’t think we have any classes together, though.”

“It’s a big school.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You paused, thinking of a way to keep the conversation going. “What’s your favorite Shakespeare play?”

Suna glanced up at the ceiling, bottom lip rolling between his teeth as he thought. “I guess I’d say Hamlet. There’s just so much shit going on.”

“Ah, so you love the drama of it all,” you laughed. “I think it’s a tie between Hamlet and Macbeth for me. The twist at the end is just—” you cut yourself off to do a chef’s kiss, prompting Suna to laugh a little.

“‘Macduff was from his mother’s womb untimely ripped’, such a raw line.”

“Yes, exactly!” You were beaming at him, happy to learn that you shared a common interest. Over the course of the last few weeks since you first met Suna, you hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know him, despite him being your best friends’ roommate. He usually kept to himself, and on the few occasions when he joined you and the twins to play video games or get dinner together, he didn’t talk much. He seemed like a naturally reserved person, and as you remembered this, you felt a small pang of guilt for disturbing him.

“Well, I’ll let you finish that article,” you said, getting off his desk and making for the door.

His voice stopped you before you could leave. “You can hang out here until Osamu gets back, if you want.” You turned to face him, a little surprised.

“You sure? I don’t wanna bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” he said. “I can finish this whenever.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like this was a rare invitation coming from him. Your heart beat a little faster at the thought.

“Have you ever seen ‘Scotland, PA’?” you asked.

“Nope.”

“It’s an adaptation of Macbeth that takes place in a fast food restaurant.”

“Yeah?” he snorted, a grin appearing on his face. “You wanna watch it?” Before you could answer, he was unplugging his headphones and bringing his laptop over to you.

“Sure, if you want to,” you told him, feeling like you were really lucking out.

Suna sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, patting the spot at his side as he started searching for the movie. You sat down next to him, careful to leave a space between you.

When you watched movies with Atsumu and Osamu, their incessant talking usually got on your nerves pretty quickly, but you found that you didn’t mind listening to Suna’s comments. Watching the film together seemed to make any lingering awkwardness between you two disappear, and before long you were laughing and leaning into each other.

“Oh, I hate this part!” you groaned when you reached a certain scene, turning to press your face into Suna’s shoulder.

“Jesus, that’s fucked up,” he chuckled, grimacing as Duncan’s character fell face-first into a deep fryer.

“Then why are you laughing!” you said, lifting your head, but you couldn’t keep your own laughter from bubbling up in your chest. Suna gave you a crooked grin, your reaction only making him laugh harder.

“Oi, Sunarin! You got a girl in there or something?” Osamu’s voice floated in through the open door, his head appearing a moment later. His eyes widened when he spotted you. “What the hell are ya doin’ here?”

“Hello to you, too, ’Samu,” you said dryly. “I came here to return your book, but you were too busy to see me, I guess.”

“Took ya long enough,” he grumbled, but he grinned at you all the same. “I’m starving, you wanna grab something to eat?”

“Yeah, later,” you said, turning to look at Suna. “There’s still a bit left in this movie, you wanna finish it now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, a little surprised that you’d postpone hanging out with your friend to finish the movie with him.

“Ugh, fiiiine,” Osamu groaned, rolling his eyes at you, “guess I’ll go shower, then. But don’t take too long, I’m so fuckin’ hungry.”

“Maaaan, I can’t wait until this semester’s over,” Atsumu sighed. “I feel like it’s draggin’ by.”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to go home for break.”

The two of you were standing on a patch of grass outside the gym, passing a volleyball back and forth. It was chilly, your breath coming out in silvery puffs, but after spending most of your time inside studying for the past week, you had both wanted to get some fresh air.

“I just know I’m gonna fail my bio final.”

“You’ll be fine, ’Tsumu,” you chuckled as you bumped the ball back to him. “You’ve been studying more in the last few days than I’ve seen you do in your entire life.”

“Hey, I studied in high school!” he huffed, his face contorting in mock annoyance as he set the ball. “Just ask Suna!”

The mention of his roommate’s name made your stomach flutter, causing you to mess up the course of the ball.

Atsumu quickly stepped to the side to get under it, giving you a nice, high set in return. “Jeez, you’ve really let your skills slip, huh?” he teased, grinning at you.

“Shut up, piss head.” Your cheeks were already pink from the cold, but you felt them heating up.

“Why don’t you play anymore anyway? I’m pretty sure there’s a women’s club on campus.”

You shrugged as you responded. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’m good enough to play for a college team.”

“Bullshit.”

You heaved a sigh. “Fine. I just think it’d be weird to play on a new team. I liked my old team, ya know? All my good memories are of them, I don’t think it would be fun to have to learn a whole new dynamic with new people. I’d feel like I was… I don’t know, like I was cheating on them or something.”

Atsumu looked at you like you’d just told him the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “That’s still bullshit.”

“Well I don’t expect you to understand, you freak. You wouldn’t care who your teammates are, as long as you get to play volleyball.” You gave him a smile as you passed him the ball. “I still have fun playing with you and ’Samu, though.”

“You better. If that ever changed, I’d have to rethink this whole friendship.”

You both laughed, but a part of you wondered how serious he really was.

“Fuck, okay my fingers are actually starting to go numb. Can we go inside now?” you asked, shoving your bright red hands into your jacket pockets.

“Yeah, you wanna grab some dinner?”

“Definitely.”

The two of you set off for the campus dining hall, huddled close together for warmth. The sun was just beginning to set, making the bare trees cast long, spindly shadows on the path in front of you. You quickened your pace, shivering a little.

The dining hall was just beginning to fill up; you and Atsumu managed to grab a table near the back of the room before all the spots were taken. You wrapped your freezing hands around your bowl of soup, savoring the warmth. Atsumu wasted no time digging into his own meal.

“You might wanna wipe that rice off your face, ’Tsumu,” you told him in a low voice, “that girl over there is checking you out.”

“Huh?” he asked, his mouth full. His eyes glanced over to the direction where you were tilting your head. “Eh, whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face. “You still hooking up with that girl from your stats class?”

“Yeah, I actually really like her,” he said, swallowing a massive bite of food. “She’s sweet, and funny. And she’s really good at—”

“Stop,” you said, holding up a hand. “I really don’t wanna know.”

He smirked at you. “I was gonna say helping me study. Jeez, what were you thinking about?”

You bit your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile.

“What about you? You been seeing anyone?”

“You know damn well the only guys I hang out with are you and ’Samu.”

“And Suna,” he added. You took a big gulp of your soup so you wouldn’t have to say anything in response. He was right, though; lately you had been spending more time with Suna, even without the twins around. “I’m kinda surprised at Suna, actually,” Atsumu continued.

“What, that he’s hanging out with me?”

“No, that he’s not hanging out with any other girls.”

Your brow furrowed a little. You had assumed that Suna got around; he was handsome, after all, and he had that mysterious, reticent personality that most girls went crazy for.

“I mean, back in high school he was kinda known for just having a ton of hookups. I figured he’d keep that up in college. I don’t know, maybe he’s too busy now,” Atsumu mused.

You mulled it over in your head. It seemed to you like Suna had more free time now than he would have had in high school; almost every time you stopped by their house, he was either in his room reading or listening to music, or else playing games with the twins. You were pretty sure he could have fit in a hookup or two if he wanted.

“Maybe he just wants to focus on his classes,” you offered, but it didn’t sound realistic even as you said it.

Atsumu snorted. “Yeah, like he’s gonna trade pussy for his GPA.”

“Charming, ’Tsumu,” you sighed. “It’s not really any of our business what Suna gets up to, though.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a little weird for him.” Atsumu’s arm stretched out to steal some food from your tray. “Maybe he’s met someone he really likes.”

His words made your stomach turn over, but you weren’t entirely sure why.

A few days into the spring semester, both Atsumu and Osamu came down with nasty colds. By the time the weekend rolled around, they were completely incapacitated, unable to do anything but huddle up together on the couch, sniffling sadly.

You had taken pity on your friends, so on Saturday night (after receiving several dramatic texts from Atsumu that he was dying), you decided to go over to their house to cook them dinner. The twins were curled up on the couch watching a movie, wrapped in thick blankets with used tissues scattered around the coffee table in front of them. From where you stood in the kitchen prepping ingredients, you had a clear view of them over the counter; the sight of them looking so sorry for themselves reminded you of all the times you had gone over their house to keep them company when they got sick as kids. You smiled to yourself, thinking of those fond memories.

“Y/n,” Atsumu whined from the living room, his blanket pulled up over the top of his head. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, baby. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him tighten the blanket around himself, a dopey grin on his face. “Y/n called me ‘baby’,” he said happily.

“Simp,” Osamu muttered under his breath.

Atsumu stuck a leg out from under his blanket to kick his brother. “Don’t be jealous, you scrub!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at them; their usual bickering sounded especially cute when their voices were so congested.

“Even when you’re sick you guys can’t shut up.” Suna had come downstairs, rubbing his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.

“Sunarin! Are you finally gonna hang out with us?” Atsumu asked excitedly.

“Absolutely not. I don’t wanna catch whatever weird disease you guys have—”

“You make us sound so disgusting,” Osamu grumbled.

“I just came down to get food,” Suna continued, grabbing a Cup Noodle from the cupboard.

“Oh no you’re not,” you said, snatching it out of his hands. “I’m making dinner for you guys.”

Suna’s eyes widened a little in surprise, but he didn’t object. Instead, he leaned back against the counter, watching as you dried the vegetables.

“Suna, could you chop up the mushrooms for me?” you asked. “Oh, but wash your hands first, please!”

Without saying a word, he did as you asked. You could hear Atsumu snickering from the couch.

“Talk about a simp. Y/n actually got Sunarin to help out in the kitchen,” he said, smirking. Suna balled up the paper towel he was using to dry his hands and chucked it at Atsumu’s head.

“You’ve got snot dripping down your face, dude.”

“Shut up!” Atsumu cried, sniffling as he burrowed deeper into his blanket.

With Suna’s help, prepping the ingredients went twice as fast. You expected him to leave the kitchen once it was done, but to your surprise he stayed, leaning against the counter again to watch you as you cooked. Occasionally he asked you a question about what you were doing.

“The chicken takes a little longer to cook than the veggies, so I’m adding that to the broth first,” you explained. “The order you add things affects the flavor, too.”

“How many times have I offered to teach ya to cook, Sunarin?” Osamu called from the other room. “Guess ya only wanna learn when Y/n’s doin’ the teaching.”

Suna glared at him over his shoulder before turning his attention back to what you were doing. “I didn’t really have to know how before.”

“It’s never too late to learn,” you reassured him.

“Nothin’ sexier than a man who knows how to cook!” Osamu yelled, grinning. Suna ignored him, but you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink.

When the food was nearly done, you asked Osamu to clear a space on the coffee table. With Suna’s help, you carried over the meal you had cooked together, setting down the steaming bowls of soup, rice, and vegetables in front of the twins.

“My nose is all stuffed up, but this still smells so good,” Atsumu said, eyes closed as he sniffed the air.

“Yeah, your cooking’s always the best, Y/n,” Osamu agreed as he reached out with both hands for a bowl of soup.

“Oh, I picked up your favorite tea on the way over here, too,” you said, going back to the kitchen.

“What?! You really are the best!” Atsumu wailed. You walked back into the living room, carrying two mugs in each hand. “What did we ever do to deserve you?”

“It’s a mystery to me,” you replied, but the smile on your face was gentle as you handed the twins their tea. You passed the third mug to Suna, and the look he gave you was nothing short of tender as you sat next to him on the floor. The sight of it made your heart pound in your chest.

When you had all finished eating, you and Suna carried the dishes back to the kitchen while the twins dozed on the couch. After packing up the leftovers, you started washing the dishes and cooking pots, with Suna drying and putting them away.

“Thanks for making dinner for us,” he said quietly, not making eye contact with you.

“Of course,” you said, offering him a smile. “I don’t mind doing it.”

“You must really like those two idiots, if you’re willing to do so much for them.”

You looked over the counter into the living room where the twins were passed out on the couch. Osamu was curled up on his side, his head leaning against the armrest and blanket tucked up tight around him; Atsumu had his head thrown back, mouth hanging open as he snored softly. The sight of them sleeping so peacefully made a feeling of warmth spread throughout your chest.

“I’ve known them since we were three,” you told Suna, gaze still pointed towards the twins. “They’re like brothers to me.” You paused for a moment, thinking, before turning your attention back to the dishes in the sink. “I think it’s normal to want to do things for the people you care about.”

You caught Suna’s eye as you looked up to pass him a freshly-washed plate. He was staring at you intently, brows slightly furrowed, but you couldn’t quite name the expression on his face.

It came as no surprise when, a few days after taking care of the twins, you came down with a bad cold of your own. You managed to suffer through your classes and had just returned to your room to sleep for the rest of the day when, less than five minutes after changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed, there was a knock at your door.

“It’s open,” you called out, thinking it was one of the girls from your floor coming to check on you.

When Suna stepped into your room, you nearly fell in your haste to jump out of bed.

“Sorry, was I not supposed to come in?” he asked as you disentangled yourself from the blankets.

“No, I just wasn’t expecting it to be you,” you told him. You grabbed a hoodie from your closet and quickly pulled it on over your tank top, attempting to hide the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Oh,” was all he said. The two of you stood there staring at each other awkwardly for a moment, before you noticed the bag he was holding in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing at it.

Suna blinked as if he had suddenly remembered why he was there. “The guys told me you weren’t feeling well,” he said, setting the bag down on your desk and pulling a container out of it, “so I thought I’d bring you some soup.” His voice got softer at the end, and you noticed a slight blush on his cheeks as he held it out to you.

He must have made it and immediately brought it over to your dorm, because the container was still hot to the touch. You struggled to keep your lower lip from shaking at the sheer thoughtfulness of it. “That’s really sweet, Suna. Thank you.”

“It’s probably not nearly as good as yours, but…” his voice trailed off. He scratched at the back of his head, the blush deepening on his face. “I tried to do what you showed me the other night.”

“Do you wanna have some with me?” you asked, but you were already taking down two bowls from the shelf above your desk and pouring out a serving for each of you, before putting the rest in your mini fridge. You ate a spoonful, eyes closing as you savored the taste. “Mmm, this is really good, Sunarin!” you smiled at him.

“It’s not bad,” he said, grinning a little bit.

“It’s really good for your first try!” you pressed on. “You know, if you want more practice, you can cook for me anytime.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that’d be a pretty sweet deal for you. But what would I get out of it?”

“Duh, you’d get to spend more time with me.”

“Oh, then pass.”

“Suna!” You pretended to pout, earning a genuine laugh from him. It felt good to joke around with him again, after not being in contact with him at all over the winter break.

“Do you wanna hang out for a bit?” he asked when you had finished eating, setting his empty bowl on your desk. “Or were you just planning on sleeping for the rest of the day?”

You were a little taken aback at his question, since he had gone out of his way to avoid Atsumu and Osamu when they were sick. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll catch whatever I have?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “If I was gonna catch it, I would have caught it from Thing 1 and Thing 2 already.” His expression faltered a little. “We don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“No, I do!” you said, a little too quickly in your eagerness to not let this chance slip through your fingers. “I just don’t want to get you sick, that’s all.”

“I’ll be fine.” Suna rolled his eyes, smiling. “You wanna watch a movie? I’ll let you choose, since you’re sick.”

“Oh, how magnanimous of you,” you teased as you carried your laptop over to your bed. You sat down, propped up against the pillows, and shifted to the side so Suna could sit next to you. “Can we watch ‘The Devil Wears Prada’?”

“Sure.”

“I feel like you’d kin Miranda Priestly.”

“I will leave this room, right now,” he threatened, beginning to stand up.

“No, no! I was only joking!” you laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down. He rubbed at his face, but you could see his slight smile hidden behind his hand.

The movie was almost over before Suna realized that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. When he first felt your head lean against him, the pounding of his heart had prevented him from daring to look at your face, but after several of his comments had gone ignored, he finally peered down at you, surprised to see your eyes closed. When the credits rolled, he had intended to get up and let you rest, but when he tried to move, your body shifted to turn towards him, an arm reaching out to wrap around his torso.

“Rin,” you murmured in your sleep, and the sound of your voice saying his name caused all of his resolve to disappear.

With you sleeping so peacefully, your warm body pressed up against his, Suna couldn’t bring himself to risk accidentally waking you up. The sun had already set, making your room dark and cozy, and so he figured he could wait there for a little bit until you woke up from your nap. Lifting one of his arms to put it around your shoulders, he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, sunlight was streaming in through the window. He blinked blearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His movements prompted you to wake up, your gaze slowly focusing to find yourself leaning on his chest like a pillow.

“Guess we were both more tired than we thought,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep.

“Mmph,” you mumbled, noticing a damp spot on his shirt from where you had drooled on him. God, how embarrassing.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, shifting to look down at you.

“A little better,” you said. Sitting up properly, you rubbed at your face, attempting to hide your blush from him. “Sorry that I fell asleep on you.”

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling a little before his face shifted into a more teasing expression. “Did you know that you mumble in your sleep?”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands even more. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

“It’s kinda cute.”

“Please don’t make fun of me this early in the morning.”

Suna pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “Ugh… I’ve got class at 9:45. I gotta go home to shower and get ready before then.” He stood up and stretched his arms over his head. You lowered your hands from your face just in time to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach as his shirt lifted up; the sight of it made your cheeks burn anew, your head turning quickly so he wouldn’t notice you staring.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Y/n,” he said, putting on his coat.

“Thanks again for coming over,” you said, forcing yourself to look him in the eye.

He grinned a little sheepishly as he made his way to the door. “Well, ya know… you gotta do things for the people you care about.”

Stepping out into the brisk early springtime air, you spotted a familiar head of dark hair a few yards in front of you.

“Hey, Sunarin!” you called out, waving at him when he turned around. He stopped walking to allow you to catch up with him. “Are you done with class for the day?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got practice.”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

He didn’t respond, but the slight shrug of his shoulders as he took off again told you that he wasn’t bothered by your company. You walked side by side, your hands brushing against each other’s occasionally, each brief contact setting off butterflies in your stomach. If it had any effect on Suna, he didn’t let it show.

“Have you thought about what classes you’re gonna take next semester?” you asked.

“Not really,” he said. “Why, you gonna start stalking me?” he added, lips quirking up into a grin.

“Just making conversation,” you grumbled, turning your face so he wouldn’t see your blush.

“Y/n!”

You looked up in the direction the voice came from to see a guy from one of your classes making his way over to you. You greeted him politely, and he launched into a conversation about the latest paper you had been assigned, falling into step beside you.

“Are you doing anything now? You wanna go get dinner with me?” he asked eventually.

“Oh, I can’t, actually,” you told him. “I have plans with a friend tonight.”

His face fell a little, but he quickly bounced back. “That’s alright, some other time maybe.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know what you’re doing for spring break yet?”

“I’m not really sure, I’ll probably just stay on campus,” you said.

“Oh, me too!” he said, grinning at you. “Maybe we could get together then.”

You had reached a branch in the path, and he turned right to continue towards the dining hall.

“See ya around!” he said with a wave.

You waved back, noticing that Suna’s eyes lingered on the other guy’s back as he walked away.

“That dude likes you,” he said in a deadpan voice.

“Huh?”

“He was trying to ask you out, dumbass.”

“What? No he wasn’t. I don’t think he’d do that in front of you.”

“Well, if he asks you again you should say yes.” Suna was smirking at you, but his voice was devoid of any emotion.

His words pricked at your heart, making your chest feel tight. The idea of him encouraging you to go out with someone else was a little upsetting. You turned your head away from him.

“Yeah, maybe,” you said absentmindedly. In truth, you had no interest in going out with that other guy, but Suna’s comment had left you unsure of what to say.

His brows creased a bit. Turning back to look at him, you saw that his gaze was significantly colder than it had been before. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, but he cut you off before you could.

“I’m gonna be late for practice,” he said flatly, walking off quickly and leaving you to stand alone on the path.

After that day, things between you and Suna were different. He was suddenly making himself even more scarce than usual, and during the few times when you managed to see him, he was quieter than before. You couldn’t think of what would make him act so coldly towards you, and the possible explanations you came up with in your mind only made you feel worse.

You were waiting outside the gym one evening for Atsumu and Suna to get out of practice. When you saw them walking out the door you went over to greet them, handing over the bag of pork buns you had picked up at the convenience store.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Atsumu said, gratefully accepting the food you offered him; Suna, however, stepped away before you could pass it to him.

“Sorry, I’ve got stuff to do,” he said cryptically before turning from you.

“We were planning on playing Smash later, are you gonna be around?” you asked.

“Probably not,” was all he said, waving one hand over his shoulder as he walked away.

Stung, you turned to Atsumu. “Suna’s been avoiding me, right? I haven’t been imagining that?”

Mouth full of pork bun, he shook his head. Swallowing thickly, he said, “Nope, he’s definitely been MIA lately. I don’t know why, though.” Seeing the way you bit your lower lip in worry, he was quick to speak again. “I’m sure it’s got nothin’ to do with you! Sunarin’s probably just busy.”

“Do you think he’s seeing someone?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“Nah, if he was I’d know about it. He’s never brought anyone back to the house.” He crammed half a pork bun into his mouth, struggling to chew it. “Honestly, he might just be a little homesick.”

“What?” It was hard to imagine someone like Suna being homesick; considering he spent so much time on his own, you didn’t think of him as the type of person to miss anyone.

“I mean, he told me he’s goin’ home for spring break to spend time with his sister,” Atsumu explained. “He must really miss her.”

You couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the news. A part of you had hoped that Suna’s avoidance of you actually was due to his busy schedule, and you had been looking forward to your spring break as the perfect opportunity to get some quality time with him. The fact that he wasn’t going to be there confirmed your doubts, proving, in your mind at least, that he really didn’t want to be around you anymore.

“You got any more of these?” Atsumu’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.

“Yeah, here,” you said, giving him the bag of pork buns intended for Suna.

He continued chattering the whole walk back to the house, but you hardly processed a word. You were too busy wondering about what you could have possibly done to make Suna no longer want to be your friend.

It had been several weeks since you had spent any time with Suna, aside from the brief moments when you saw each other at the house when you were visiting the twins, but he always gave an excuse as to why he couldn’t hang around. You knew he was a private person, but his sudden avoidance of you hurt twice as much after he had seemed to be getting more comfortable around you. Several times you had texted him to ask if he wanted to get food with you or watch a movie together, but he either claimed he was too busy with classes, or ignored you altogether. Eventually, you gave up trying to contact him.

But that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering when you did see him in person. You found yourself living for the moments when you would be sitting in the living room with Osamu or Atsumu, and Suna would come downstairs, giving you a quick nod before rushing out the door; or when you would be hanging out in Osamu’s room and Suna would walk down the hallway, locking eyes with you for half a second before going into his own room and shutting the door behind him. Each time you hoped he would stop and actually say something to you, and each time you were left disappointed.

So it came as a surprise when, one day when you and Osamu were in his kitchen making onigiri together, Suna came downstairs and actually lingered for a bit, even after spotting you. Not wanting to scare him off, you bit your tongue as he sat on the counter, watching you form the rice balls with your hands.

“Those look good,” he said; you weren’t sure if he was addressing you or Osamu.

“Here,” Osamu said, putting some on a plate and passing it to his friend. “You headin’ out soon?”

Suna nodded, his mouth full of rice. “Yeah, I’ve gotta meet with my advisor.”

“We’re going out to eat later, you should come. You haven’t hung out with us in a while.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been kinda flakey lately,” he said, his tone apologetic.

You couldn’t help yourself. Looking him in the eye, you spoke. “We’ve missed you, Rintarou. It’s not as fun without you around.”

“Gee, thanks,” Osamu muttered, but you hardly heard him. For the first time in weeks, Suna was looking directly at you, his gaze almost soft.

“Can’t imagine how rough it must be for you to have to spend time with these two goons,” he said, grinning.

“I’m standing right here, man,” Osamu said, his voice sounding only slightly annoyed.

You laughed, and to your amazement Suna returned it. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, hopeful that this awkward tension between you two was finally over.

“Text me when you guys are leaving, okay?” he said, hopping down off the counter and making for the front door. “I’ll meet you there.”

You couldn’t keep the giddy smile off your face even after he left. The thought of spending time with him again was almost too much for you.

“I wish you guys would just fuckin’ kiss already,” Osamu griped, his hands still deftly forming perfectly-shaped onigiri.

“Huh?!” you spluttered, nearly choking as his words sank in. “Who?”

“You and Sunarin, you clown. Do ya have any idea how painful it’s been watchin’ you two idiots for the past few months? Jesus, even ’Tsumu noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“That you guys like each other!”

“I don’t—wha—,” you fumbled over your words, not entirely sure what to say. “Suna doesn’t like me!”

“Uh huh, yeah, okay. Y/n, the man made you a whole-ass pot of soup when you were sick. I’ve known him for years and he won’t even let me borrow his phone charger.”

“If he likes me, then why has he spent the last two months completely ignoring me?”

“Because Rintarou has the emotional intelligence of a fuckin’ cantaloupe.” Osamu finally turned to look at you, his hands resting on his hips. “Look, he’s never actually liked someone before—not for real, anyway—so I don’t think he knows what to do about you. He’s never gonna fess up and tell you how he feels, so his next best option is to just avoid you entirely. But he’s been missing you, real bad. I can tell.”

“So I’m supposed to be the one to tell him?”

Osamu smirked at you. “So you actually like him?”

You paused for a moment, sucking in a breath. “Yeah, I like him.”

It was the first time you had admitted it even to yourself. A wave of relief immediately washed over you, as if you had been holding onto a secret that you no longer had to hide.

Ignoring the blush you felt creeping onto your face, you forced yourself to look at your friend.

“But isn’t that weird for you? I mean, we’re your best friends, would you really be okay with it if we started dating?”

Osamu glanced up as he thought about it, taking in a deep breath and exhaling loudly. “It’d be a little weird at first, but I’d get used to it. But it doesn’t matter how I feel about it.” He looked back down at you. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

“’Samu,” you wailed, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

“So, you gonna tell him or what?”

“I don’t know… what if he doesn’t feel that way about me?”

“He definitely does.”

“Well, maybe it’s just not a good idea for us to date… I mean, neither of us has ever been in a real relationship before, what if we just crash and burn?”

Osamu took in another deep breath, looking as if he was preparing himself for something unpleasant. “Look, you know I’m not a sappy guy, and I feel gross even saying this, but honestly, you and Rintarou are two of the most compatible people I’ve ever met. Even I can see how cute you guys are together. You’d be stupid not to date him.”

“Seriously, ’Samu, you’re actually gonna make me cry.”

“Whatever,” he said, turning back to make more onigiri. “Just hurry up and confess already, I miss hangin’ out with my friends.”

You waited until Atsumu and Osamu were out of the house; that way, if things didn’t go well, you could quietly slip away to collect your dignity without having to answer any questions from them first.

You stood in Suna’s doorway, heart pounding furiously in your chest as you steeled yourself for what you were about to do. He was sitting on his bed with his headphones on, looking at something on his laptop, but when you knocked on the door frame he glanced up, noticing you for the first time.

“Hey, Rintarou,” you said, your voice a little shaky. “Can we talk?”

He took his headphones off and shut his laptop, setting it to the side and scooting forward to sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you stepped into his room and sat down next to him. He was looking at you intently, a small crease between his brows. You glanced down at your lap, fingers twisting nervously, before looking at his face again. If you weren’t honest with him now, you never would be.

“I like you,” you said bluntly, “more than just a friend.” Suna’s lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” you continued, really struggling now to hold his gaze. “I just… I had to tell you. And I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us, that’s not what I want. Your friendship means a lot to me and I don’t want to lose that, so even if you don’t—”

“Y/n.”

Your words caught in your throat, afraid of what he was about to say.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was impossibly soft, the question sounding so delicate as it fell past his lips.

You could have sworn your heart stopped beating for a moment. You nodded your head. “Yes.”

Suna’s hand reached up to cup your cheek before he leaned in, agonizingly slowly, to press his mouth to yours. His lips were so soft, his touch incredibly gentle. Placing both hands on the back of his neck, you melted into him, sighing as his other arm wrapped around your waist to pull you in closer. You could feel him grinning against your lips just before he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“I like you, too,” he said softly.

Returning his smile, you leaned in to fit your mouth to his again, relishing the way it felt to be held by him, to have him kiss you so tenderly. It took all of your willpower to pull away from him.

“Rin, I have to go,” you whispered against his lips.

“What?” His expression was puzzled as you abruptly stood up.

“I have class in ten minutes,” you explained, making your way to the door.

“So you’re just gonna drop that on me and then dip?”

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, grinning. “Yup.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, but the smile was still on his face even as you left.

The first few weeks after you and Suna started dating passed by in a blur. The heartache you had felt when he kept his distance from you had been replaced by a constant feeling of joy at the knowledge that you were together now. You still got butterflies every time you saw him, your heart melting each time you pressed a kiss into his cheek and saw a blush creep onto his face.

The only complaint you had was that after three weeks, you and Suna still hadn’t slept together. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, but there was always something that prevented you from actually succeeding: he was too exhausted after finishing volleyball practice; you both had term papers to work on; someone on your floor burnt popcorn in the microwave, setting off the fire alarm. The closest you two came to doing anything was one night when you thought you had the house to yourselves. You and Suna were making out on his bed, and he was just about to take off your shirt when Atsumu suddenly burst into the room to ask if they were all out of laundry detergent. He had quickly left, smirking, after realizing what he was interrupting, but you were too embarrassed to continue after he closed the door.

At this point, it had been over a year since you last had sex, and you were starting to go a little crazy. You were pretty sure Suna knew it, too, based on the smirks he gave you when he happened to catch the way you would stare at him periodically. After the length of time it took for you two to finally admit your feelings for each other, it was incredibly frustrating that the universe seemed to be keeping you apart again.

The end of the semester rolled around, and the twins decided to throw another big party before finals week. You managed to convince Suna to not hide in his room the entire time, and to your amazement he seemed to be having a good time, laughing in the corner with some friends from the volleyball team.

You were sitting on the couch next to Osamu, slowly sipping the beer in your hand. He was talking to you about your plans for the summer, but you couldn’t stop your attention from drifting over to your boyfriend every once in a while, grinning at him each time you happened to catch his eye.

“Our parents are renting that beach house for two weeks in July, you wanna come with us again?” Osamu asked, drawing your gaze back to his face.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, that sounds fun,” you said, a little distracted.

“Your boyfriend can come, too, of course,” he smirked.

“Shut up,” you groaned, trying to hide your blushing face by downing the rest of your drink.

“Bet you’re gonna miss him, yeah? Three months is a long time to be apart from your lover.”

“I swear to god, ’Samu, if you don’t shut the fuck up…” you grumbled, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face at your friend’s teasing.

Osamu’s attention was stolen then by someone asking him to go do shots, so you got up and walked to the kitchen by yourself to throw out your empty beer bottle. After you tossed it in the bin, you felt warm hands encircle your waist and a familiar voice whispered into your ear.

“It’s getting kinda crowded down here, you wanna go upstairs?” Suna’s warm breath tickled your ear, making you shiver in his arms. Turning around to face him, you gave him a quick kiss before taking him by the hand and leading the way to the stairs.

Closing his bedroom door muffled the sounds of the party, and you were able to breathe easier now that you were alone with him. Suna scrolled through his phone briefly before finding the playlist he was searching for, setting his phone down once the music started playing.

“Hey,” you said, grinning as you recognized the song, “this is the same playlist that you put on the night we met.”

He took a few steps towards you, arms snaking around your waist to pull you in close. “I know,” he said simply before leaning down to kiss you. You allowed him to deepen it, lips parting for his tongue, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

Without breaking away, Suna guided you to his bed, gently laying you down and crawling on top of you, his knee coming up to press between your legs. You moaned into his mouth, feeling him grin against you. Breathing hard, you pulled his shirt over his head, leaning back so that you could look at him. You had known he was fit from all the times your body had been pressed against his, but seeing his muscular form with your own eyes was different. You squirmed under him, feeling your arousal growing between your thighs.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time, Y/n,” he whispered, leaning down to press kisses into your neck.

“I know,” you murmured.

“Yeah?” He pulled your shirt off of you, warm hands burning into your skin. “Do you know what I’m gonna do next?” he teased in a low voice, mouth moving down over your collarbones as his hands came up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples through your bra.

“Rin,” you whined when he pulled down the fabric to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, his other hand coming to rest between your thighs, groaning against your skin when he felt the wetness seeping through your shorts.

“Yeah, baby?” He was kissing a line down your stomach, goosebumps rising in his wake. He tugged off your shorts and panties together as you sat up to unhook your bra, tossing it onto the floor without taking your eyes off his face. Your hands immediately moved to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning them as you planted sloppy kisses across his chest. He wriggled out of them and threw them to the side, before wrapping a hand around each of your legs and spreading them apart. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, lips gliding over the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me, baby. I know how badly you want this.”

You whimpered, fingers running through his hair and gripping tightly. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, making you shiver again. A loud moan escaped you when he finally pressed his tongue against your pussy, running slowly over your folds and circling around your clit before moving back down. He repeated the motion, making your breath come out in short pants as your fingers tangled themselves further in his hair.

“God, you taste so sweet,” he moaned against you. His hands pressed down on your hipbones, pinning you in place as you started trembling around him, small whimpers leaving your mouth the closer you came to your release. You drew your legs up, the heel of one of your feet resting on his back as your spine arched, pressing into his mouth.

“Fuck, Rin, I’m so close,” you gasped out. He hummed, hands reaching up to trace his fingertips along your sides. You started moving your hips and he stilled, holding his tongue out for you to grind against. Within seconds you were cumming, legs shaking and nails digging almost painfully into his scalp. He kept his mouth open to allow you to ride out your high, gaze trained on your face.

“You’re so cute, baby,” he murmured, moving to plant a row of kisses up your throat and over your jaw. “So fucking cute.” His lips fitted against yours as he grinded into you, the friction against your clit making you gasp.

“Rin,” you whispered, pulling away to look in his eyes, “lie down.”

He rolled off of you, reaching out with both hands to pull you on top of him. You kissed him once, teasingly, before sitting up and gazing down at him. With one finger, you traced a line from his throat down over his chest and stomach, coming to rest where the skin dipped down between his hipbones, smiling to yourself at the way he shivered from your touch. Hooking your fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers, you gently tugged them off of him, watching the way his thick cock sprang out to slap against his abs. Heart pounding excitedly, you dragged your nails over the top of his thigh, pleased when his muscles tensed beneath you.

“Don’t tease me, baby,” he groaned, fingers digging into your arm. “I’ve had to wait so long for this.”

You would have been content to make him wait even longer, wanting to hear him begging you to touch him, but the pleading look in his eyes softened your resolve. “I know,” you purred, leaning down to run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, grinning to yourself when you heard his sharp inhale. You swirled your tongue around the tip, letting your spit run down his length, before wrapping your lips around his cock.

Soft moans and pants reached your ears as you slowly took all of him into your mouth. When the head of his cock hit the back of your throat you paused, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from the stretch of your jaw. You slid your tongue along his cock as you hummed lightly, eliciting a loud groan from him. Your hand came to grip his cock as you started bobbing your head up and down, moving in tandem with your mouth. Suna tilted his head to watch you, his chest rising and falling heavily. Keeping your eyes on his face, your mouth left his cock with a wet pop and moved down to suck on his balls, your hand continuing to jerk him off.

“F-fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow. His fingers entwined themselves in your hair, gripping firmly, but you had reached the limit of your patience. You crawled back on top of him, thighs planted on either side of his hips, and used your hand to drag his cock along the folds of your cunt.

“I wanna feel you, Rin,” you said breathlessly as his hands gripped your hips. “Wanna feel you inside me.”

Pressing his tip into you, you slowly sank down onto him, loving the way his mouth fell open as you took him completely inside you. The stretch made you gasp, head falling forward to rest against the crook of his neck. You kissed the skin just below his ear as you started grinding your hips against him, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. The sensation on your clit made you moan into his skin.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispered.

“Feels good,” you whimpered, your pace quickening. “S-so good.”

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight…”

The knot in your stomach was rapidly tightening. A few more motions were all it took for you to be cumming again; you pressed your lips against Suna’s, tongue reaching into his mouth as your orgasm washed over you.

When your hips stilled, he lifted you off of him and flipped you over onto your back, nipping at the skin of your neck as he repositioned himself between your legs. With a groan, he sank into you again, hips snapping against you urgently. Your body already felt worn out, but the sensation of him fucking you so deeply had you clawing at his back, desperately trying to pull him closer to you. He lifted your trembling legs onto his shoulders, the new angle of his cock thrusting into you making you cry out.

“Is that your spot, baby?” he crooned, repeatedly hitting the place that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Yes, yes, yes, right there, Rin, p-please don’t stop!” you babbled. One of your hands reached out to grab his and bring it to your neck, eyes pleading with him.

His fingers tightened around your throat. “Fuck, you look so cute taking my cock like that. You gonna cum again, pretty girl? Gonna cum all over my cock for me?”

His grip on your throat was making you lightheaded, the friction against your clit sending pleasant vibrations throughout your entire body. The spot his cock was hitting inside your pussy had you hurtling towards the edge again, eyes rolling back as you incoherently begged him not to stop.

“Rin, I-I’m cumming—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you practically sobbed as your pussy clenched around him again. He released his hold on your throat, moving his hand up to lift your jaw and kiss you deeply, relishing when you moaned into his mouth. Your lips parted and he rested his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes, continuing to pound into you as you came. His breath stuttered as his thrusts grew more erratic, his face flushed as his cock throbbed inside you, hot cum filling your cunt.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again, slower than before. He pulled out and laid down beside you, breathing hard. You reached up to brush the loose strands of hair out of his face, fingers running over his cheekbones.

“Why did we wait so long to do this,” you asked, making him laugh.

“We’re so fucking stupid,” he said with a grin.

You exhaled happily, moving closer to him and nestling your head against his chest. His arm reached out to wrap around you and press his palm into your spine to pull you closer. He was warm, but your uncovered body shivered against the chill in the air, goosebumps rising along your skin.

“Here, cutie,” he said, shifting so that he could pull the comforter over you. “Comfy?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, closing your eyes and pressing a kiss into his collarbone.

With Rin’s arm around you and his steady heartbeat in your ear, you fell asleep almost instantly, feeling more content than you had in a long time.

You woke up before Suna. He had moved in his sleep, now lying on his back with one arm outstretched underneath your head. You watched him for a moment, smiling at the calm expression on his face, before climbing out of bed slowly, careful not to disturb him. Putting on your panties and one of Suna’s oversized t-shirts, you slipped out the door to walk to the bathroom down the hall.

Osamu and Atsumu’s doors were still closed, a fact that you were grateful for when you reached the bathroom and saw your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a tangled mess, your neck littered with little love bites, damning indicators of what you had been up to the night before. Splashing your face with water, you tried to scrub off the smeared remnants of yesterday’s makeup. Satisfied when you no longer looked like you spent the night in a club, you crept back into your boyfriend’s room.

“Hey,” Suna mumbled when you stepped back through the doorway, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his eyes with the other hand.

“Hey.” You smiled at him as you shut the door.

“Take those clothes off and come back to bed.”

You giggled, shrugging out of your clothes and stepping towards his outstretched arms. He pulled you into a tight embrace, peppering your face with kisses. He settled you down on your side next to him, pulling your thigh up to rest on his hip.

“Rin!” you squealed when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.

“I just wanna be inside you, baby,” he murmured. His touch had already made you wet, allowing his cock to slide into you easily. You sighed as his hips pressed up against yours.

His lips met with yours, his kiss achingly sweet. “I don’t ever want you to leave this bed,” he breathed out. You smiled against his lips, fingers running through his soft hair. He shifted his hips then, and the sensation was too much for you.

“O-oh,” you whimpered as your pussy tightened around him.

“Are you cumming?” he asked, the corner of his lips quirking up into a grin.

“Sh-shut up.”

He didn’t say anything else, simply tightening his arms around you and kissing you again. The two of you lay like that for a while, slipping into a peaceful state of half-sleep, until the sound of a distant door being flung open pulled you back.

“Fuck,” Suna mumbled under his breath. Not a second later, a loud knock sounded from the other side of his door.

“Sunariiiiin,” Atsumu’s voiced whined from the hallway. “Are you guys up yet?”

“Is that door locked?” Suna whispered to you. Commending yourself for your earlier foresight, you nodded. “Good.”

“Suna! Y/n!” He pounded on the door. “I know you guys can hear me, come on!”

“I gotta get my own place,” Suna grumbled, his eyes still closed. You giggled, and when the knocking on the door stopped you snuggled in closer to him, ready to go back to sleep.

Until your phone started ringing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, reaching out to grab it from the nightstand. “What do you want, Atsumu?”

“Aha! I knew you were awake!” He sounded very pleased with himself for succeeding in getting you to talk to him. “Can you make me pancakes?”

There was a pause as his question sank in. Holding your phone to your head and staring at Suna, you pulled away from him and sat up, eliciting a low groan from him. “You want me to make you pancakes?” you repeated in an incredulous voice. Suna cracked open his eyes, his face scrunching up as he heard Atsumu’s request.

“Yeah!”

“Get Osamu to do it.”

“He doesn’t make them as good as you!”

You could practically hear him pouting on the other end of the line. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you heaved a sigh. “Give me a minute.”

“Thankyouthankyouthanky—” You ended the call before he finished. Climbing out of bed, you pulled on your clothes again.

“Are you actually gonna do it?” Suna asked.

“He’s just gonna keep harassing us until I do it anyway,” you said. “Besides, it’s almost ten o’clock, we might as well get up.”

Suna rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow, groaning loudly. Grinning, you tossed a clean pair of boxers and a shirt at him.

Atsumu looked way too happy when you finally appeared downstairs. He and Osamu were sitting at the kitchen counter together; they nudged a steaming mug towards you when you walked in.

“We made you coffee,” he said, his grin wide across his face.

“Uh huh,” you grumbled.

“Where’s mine?” Suna asked as he trailed in behind you.

“Make your own, dick,” Osamu told him, smirking as he sipped his own drink.

Suna rolled his eyes, going to pour himself a cup from the coffeemaker.

Trying to hide your laughter from him, you gathered up the ingredients and set to work. When all the pancakes were done cooking you passed half of them across the counter to the twins.

“Mmm,” Atsumu hummed, closing his eyes as he took a bite. “So good.”

“I gotta teach you how to make these yourself, ’Tsumu,” you said, taking a bite of your own breakfast.

“Yeah, that way you clowns can let us sleep in for once,” Suna added.

“Don’t pretend, Y/n,” Atsumu said, “you know you love seeing my cute little face first thing in the morning.”

“I prefer seeing ’Samu’s, actually,” you teased. Osamu stuck his tongue out at his twin, laughing at his crumpled expression.

When you all finished eating, Atsumu and Osamu jumped up to wash the dishes for you. Holding your mug of coffee with both hands, you leaned into Suna’s side.

Looking over his shoulder at you two, Osamu grinned. “So, how was your night?”

“Fine,” you said in a casual tone.

“And that’s all you’re gonna get out of us,” Suna finished.

Osamu rolled his eyes, turning back to the dishes in the sink. “As if I’d want any details.”

“My night was great, thanks for asking,” Atsumu chimed in.

“Yeah? Was that before or after you puked in the backyard?”

“’Samu!”

You couldn’t help the relaxed smile that found its way onto your face, happy to get to listen to them teasing each other like always. With one hand resting on the counter, Suna’s other reached around your waist to tug you closer, fitting your body against his. Standing there laughing with your friends, with his arm around you, felt like the most natural thing in the world.

➣epilogue

➣masterlist

#i loooooove making rintarou feel emotions #that's my main kink #this is pretty long but it's only because i have so many thoughts okay!!!!!!#suna #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #suna fluff #suna rintarou fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna angst #suna rintarou angst #haikyuu angst #niakasi writing

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startanewdream · 4 years ago

Text

"Wish I'd left it there"

Hinny's first kiss in the movies really annoys me, but the script had a line about them talking about Tom Riddle's diary that was actually good (and missed in the books). I thought about that scene after seeing a giftset and then I just started writing a few words about a possible conversation between Harry and Ginny, the night before the Final Quidditch Match (aka the day before they kiss).

Hope it makes some sense!

There is a miserable look on Harry’s eyes that feels strangely familiar to Ginny. It is not that he doesn’t have any reason to be upset on this day; it is the evening of the final Quidditch match, Harry won’t play, he has weeks of detention ahead and he got scared after being involved with a dark art spell.

But the look on his eyes as he stares at the book on his hand - that is not related to any of these reasons.

She is not really surprised when she sees what book he is holding. The potions handbook that she knows was borrowed hurriedly at the library that morning, before Slughorn’s class. After all, Harry hid his original book the day before.

The Half-Blood Prince’s book.

The book that taught him many spells and gave him many tips, a book that Harry treated like an old friend, until… until the book betrayed him. That’s a feeling Ginny knows too well.

She remembers how it was after Christmas in her First Year, when she threw away Tom Riddle’s diary; she tried to get another book to replace it, a place where she could safely put her thoughts. She even wrote a few words, but it wasn’t the same.

Ginny remembers feeling betrayed by the diary, by what it made her do, and yet missing it like a part of herself. That’s the expression on Harry’s face.

He is alone on the couch in front of the fire. Ginny tells herself that she shouldn’t do anything - Ron and Hermione are probably more suited to talk to him, she has a few notes to study or she should even be sleeping before the last match -, but instead she finds herself drawn to Harry's side, sitting next to him.

‘Hey’, she tells and he jumps, his face colouring as it happens lately when she is near. Harry smiles, though it is more of a grimace, and Ginny tries not to let it bother her.

Before yesterday, before he casted that curse, Ginny could swear there was something happening between her and Harry - a sort of dance where they were getting closer and closer, almost touching and recoiling at the last moment, both of them waiting for the right signal to... to it happen. But ever since that story with the dark spell, Harry had withdrawn, avoiding to look at her as if he had let her down somehow, and Ginny had seen the shadow on his eyes as he talked about Dean rejoining the team.

Ginny doesn't really hate that half-blood prince for writing down a nasty spell, but she surely hates him for making Harry miserable. No book should have that power.

‘Hi’, he answers, a little late. ‘Thought you were sleeping already’.

‘Before the match? Too nervous’. She tries to grin, hoping it might infect him a little. ‘I was actually studying History of Magic’.

There is a faint amusement in his eyes now. ‘Wow’.

‘Yeah, I thought, it may make me sleepy or I might actually learn something. Win-win in any case’.

‘Sleepy is better’.

‘And there goes my attempt to get nine OWLS’.

‘Why nine?’

‘It’s more than Ron got. I hope it’s enough to ease Mom since I didn’t get the prefect badge’.

‘Who would want to be prefect?’

‘Not me - imagine being on rounds in a perfect nice Friday night?’, she asks, still light, and Harry looks around briefly, as if he only now realizes what was on Ginny’s mind for a while. They are nearly the last ones in the Common Room.

‘Oh’. Harry bits his lips, the pink in his skin now reaching his neck as the corners of his lips lift up. ‘It’s a nice night’.

And then, finally, Harry is looking at her as he does these days - eyes sparkling, nervous and excited at the same time, his gaze falling to her lips as if he feels drawn to it, before his eyes move to take in her face, every little detail, as if he was tasked to memorize it.

By the amount of time Ginny has caught him staring at her lately, she thinks he could draw her face if he wants to.

‘Ginny’, he whispers tentatively, and her lips part, tongue wettening them almost involuntarily; Harry’s eyes watch that movement and now there is fire on them. ‘I -’

But his words are cut when there is a heavy thump and they look down at the same time to watch the potions handbook opened on the floor. There are only the author’s writings on them; no words scribbled on the pages.

Harry backs away, his face troubled now. Ginny knows she ought to go away too, to give Harry an awkward smile and acknowledge that their moment is over, but she stays.

As easy as it feels when she is around him, it wasn’t to flirt that she went to talk to him in the first place.

‘It is not your fault’, she tells him bluntly. Harry eyes her warily.

‘I casted the spell. I won’t try to -’

‘I meant to trust him. That Prince guy’.

‘Oh’. He looks at the book on his hand. ‘Dunno. I feel stupid’.

‘For trusting a book that ended up disappointing you?’, she asks, inviting him to join her weird joke. Harry blushes, looking strangely flustered about what she is saying.

‘It is not like that, the diary was… truly evil’.

It seems like there is more he wants to say, but Harry looks away.

Ginny shrugs. ‘I know it was evil. Even then, even before I knew to whom it belonged, I knew it was evil and still… I missed it a lot. I tried to get rid of it twice, you know?’

Harry shakes his head. ‘I know about that time you threw it away in Moaning Myrtle’s toilet’.

She gives a reluctant laugh. ‘Not by best moment’, she acknowledges. Harry almost smiles. ‘Before that, before Christmas, I tried to hide in the same place you did. The Room of Requirement, though I didn’t know then what it was. Wish I’d left it forever’.

‘Oh. I never knew’.

‘Yeah, and I spent all holiday Christmas missing it like hell. I was miserable. I thought about it all the time. I would get angry when I saw other books, because it wasn’t the one I wanted’. She pauses. ‘No wonder I took it back first thing’.

Harry looks sheepishly, understanding what she means. ‘I won’t take it back’, he whispers. ‘Not just because of Snape finding out, I just - I just don’t want it right now’.

‘He betrayed you’, she summarizes. Harry startles as if he didn’t think about it in those terms before. ‘I think you should leave it there for a while. Try to forget it. Don't get too attached to it’.

‘Clean myself out of it?’

‘You are not tainted’, she says. Not like she was, she thinks.

Harry’s eyes are hard now, fierce. ‘Neither are you’, he tells her. ‘That diary… his soul… there is nothing of him on you. You are bright and powerful in a way Voldemort could never be’.

She should shudder at the name, but with the way Harry says it, with the resolution in his eyes that leave no room for her self-doubt, Ginny doesn’t fear Voldemort. Harry may have spoken about her brightness, but she thinks his lightness is powerful too, much stronger than the shadow of Voldemort’s name.

‘You can love’, he adds, his voice tender now, and though Ginny can think of a lot of people that she loves - her family, her friends -, she thinks of another type of love, one that she hopes to share with someone someday.

Not anyone. Maybe a special someone, she thinks, admiring the green in his eyes.

‘You can too’, she whispers back. There is a flash of surprise on his eyes, and Ginny wonders if Harry ever heard that he is loved; if he remembers it. But she doesn’t doubt that he can love and he knows it; he is too compassionate to not feel love.

And she wonders if he ever thinks of sharing a different kind of love with someone too.

But for now, she just picks up the book on the floor and gives it back to him.

‘It is just a book’, she says, raising.

Harry nods. ‘Just a stupid book’, he agrees.

‘I’m gonna sleep now - good night, Harry’.

‘Good night’. There is a pause. ‘Catch the snitch tomorrow, yes?’

‘I will wait for you with the snitch on my hand’, she promises him, giving him a small smile. ‘It’s a promise’.

Something flickers in Harry’s eyes, a faint glint of hope that makes Ginny think that tomorrow might be better. Tomorrow might be the day where their dance change tunes. ‘I’ll be waiting’.

#hinny #t: fanfiction #missing moments #hinny fanfic #ginny weasley #harry potter

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ererokii · 4 years ago

Text

Line without a Hook || E. Jaeger & J. Kirstein

➳ Jean Kirsten x Fem Reader x Eren Jaeger

Word count: 4,517 Warnings: angst, fluff, unrequited love, cursing ➳ note: this is based off the song Line Without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery! I’ve been thinking this for a long time and I’m super excited by how it came out! Also big thanks to @reddriot for betaing!

➳ Synopsis: is love really worth it? Let me say, it’s not always worth it.

You can hold my hand if no one’s home.

Do you like it when I’m away?

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

It starts out simple really. A boy and a girl. Childhood friends, to be precise. Those two are inseparable. Nothing can tear the friends apart, besides their parents, of course. Like two peas in a pod.

Jean says he knows you like the back of his hand. He truly means that. He knows your favorite boy bands from when you were younger, how many terrible phases you’ve gone through, favorite foods, and places. If he wrote a novel about the things you told him, he would be a renowned author.

Since kindergarten to now, in the middle of your junior year, you and Jean have been side by side. You told him everything. From random vents and gossiping about the rude girls in your class to how horrible your period cramps were— even though Jean hated hearing about the last, he stuck through it for you.

Only you.

The pavement that followed the street your house was on is memorable. Jean can recall the amount of times you’ve had races, chalk scribbles covering the grey that would be washed away by the angry neighbors.

He listens to you as you talk about a kid getting in trouble in your Calculus class, watches how lively your motions are as you speak. Jean can’t help but smile when a laugh slips past your lips and you glance at him. There’s an unknown sparkle in his eyes, one filled with love.

You haven’t changed one bit, he thinks as he faces back forward, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. His mind begins to wander as you both continue down the pavement, part of your routine when school ends.

Your houses are right next to each other. You’ve been with him since you were in diapers. He was there when your first tooth came out, congratulating you, and you were there for him when he finally learned to ride his bike with two wheels instead of three.

The bubbly lovable five-year-old back then is the same as you are now.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Oh all my emotions

Feel like explosions when you are around

A sigh of disappointment leaves Jean’s lips when he listens to Connie talk about something he has learned over the weekend (something completely stupid— he just doesn’t care). Currently, the students are at lunch, the cafeteria full with loud shouts and random noises.

“Connie, shut up,” Sasha groans, placing her water bottle on the table, wiping her crumbs off. “No one cares that you finally figured out how to stick a spoon to your nose.”

“What do you mean?! You were the one who showed me!”

The brunette gasps and looks over his way, cream cheeks tinted with an adorable shade of pink, pointing a finger at him. The bickering between the two commence as Jean listens, slightly amused.

As much as he indulges in their argument, he can't help but wonder where you are.

It’s not like you to skip lunch, especially without at least letting him know. Did you stay behind to talk to a friend? A teacher? Maybe you went to the bathroom.

But it’s at least 15 minutes in.

“Sasha,” he speaks up, slicking back his hair. The sound of her name catches her attention, making her look at him. “Have you seen Y/N?”

“Y/N?” she asks in a whisper before her lips curl in a grin, already knowing why he asked. “Do you miss her?”

“Just answer my goddamn question!”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Connie asks, looking between his friends before stopping his gaze on Jean. “Why do you need Y/N?”

“Oh, you know! He lik-”

“Shut up!” Jean shouts, catching the attention of nearby students, his face heating up as his cheeks turn a darker pigment. “Just answer me!”

“If you must know,” she taunts him, twirling a strand of hair from her loose ponytail. “I saw her talking to someone in the hallway. Must be important, she’s been there for quite some time. Might want to be her knight in shining armor and saving her, huh?” she cocks her head to the side, staring at one of the windows in the room, watching as the branches of trees sway from the harsh winds.

The atmosphere outside was cold, breezes rushing down on anyone who was not inside. The sun was hidden by the thick grey blankets filled with rainwater, waiting to shower the world. The temperature recently has been dropping, mid 50’s at least. The weather was a shock, to say the least.

“I didn’t know Jean likes her!”

“What do you mean?!” Sasha gasps, turning her body to face her small-minded friend. “It’s only obvious! You must be really stupid then!”

“Well, how could you tell?!”

Before Jean has a chance to interrupt Sasha, she begins to rant. He prefers to stay silent, clasping his hands together in his lap as he lowers his head, finding interest in the marbled tiles of the floor his feet rest on.

The words that slip past Sasha’s lips reach his ear and out the other.

It’s easy to tell, Connie. Have you noticed the way he looks at her? Can’t you see the love in his eyes? The way he will actually go out of his way to help her with anything? Here you guys are, two close friends, I thought you would have known about his crush. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on every time he ditched plans with us to go hang out with her. He’s whipped, and you’re too stupid to know it.

His cheeks turn a shade of pink as his eyes squeeze shut, her words replaying in his head like a broken record player. Each sentence is like a knife stabbing away at his brain, causing the slightest ache to form in his frontal region.

She’s right. Anything she just said five minutes ago, is completely and utterly correct.

He can still hear her talking about it to Connie, but he can only focus on three sentences that stick to him like glue.

Have you noticed the way he looks at her? Can’t you see the love in his eyes? The way he will actually go out of his way to help her with anything?

Memories of him helping you in any possible way come to mind. He can’t recall how many times he has entered class two minutes late because you had so much to carry.

He stares at you like you’re the only thing worth looking at. It reminds him of those cliche animated movies with hearts in the character's eyes. He’s blinded by his love for you, that he never noticed any signs that you don’t feel the same way about him. His heart races miles per hour when you’re around. Sometimes he worries for himself that maybe, his heart might explode within him.

“Anyway, lunch has about 20 minutes left...where is she?” Connie mutters, scratching the top of his head.

“I don’t know, but,” Sasha grows quiet, listening to the ongoing thunder from the outside. The lights flicker for a second, a couple of yelps emitting from other students, slightly afraid that the power might go off while school is in session. “The storm is almost here.”

“Y/N!” Connie suddenly yells, pointing in the direction of the door, your body jogging closer to the table. “Where have you been?!”

“Sorry!” you laugh, out of breath as you drop your things on the bench, taking a seat beside Jean. “I got caught up in a conversation with someone! I guess I lost track of time for a bit.”

“I messaged you like four times,” Jean mutters, glancing over at you before looking at the table, playing with the plastic straw that he used to drink out of.

“You did?” you ask, pulling your phone out from your pocket, lips puckering when indeed he did so. “I’m sorry, Jean. I didn’t even feel my phone vibrate.”

“Oh, whatever, who cares! Eat! Or I’ll eat your food!” Sasha yells, pointing a finger at you, a smile gracing her features.

You laugh along with her as you converse with your peers, the conversation you had replaying in the back of your mind. Jean chooses not to intervene, instead would rather listen.

The roaring thunder plays in the background, everyone paying no mind to it. What he doesn’t know is that the storm is much closer than Jean could have thought.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Listen close, it’s a no

The wind is a pounding on my back

And I found hope in a heart attack

Oh at last, it is past

Now I’ve got it, and you can’t have it

Another evening, another study session, another day of bottling up his feelings until he can no longer hold them inside.

The storm made its way to shore, raining pouring down and even some hail; not what anyone was expecting.

Jean mindlessly flips through the pages of his English book, not even paying attention to the words as he checks how many pages are in chapter five.

“This seems pointless,” he adds with a sigh, tossing the book on your bed along with his highlighter he uses to annotate with. “I should just find a summary online or something, I don’t want to read this.”

“And why is that?” you ask, looking up from your book, placing the hardcover against your thighs. “Is it boring to you?”

“No,” he mutters, rolling onto his back. “It’s stupid. This love crap.”

“Well...it is a romance story, the teacher told us when we got the book. But why do you think it’s dumb?”

“He writes letters for her, and in the end, she ends up rejecting him. I don’t think that’s romantic.”

“And? It’s beautiful on his part,” you close your eyes as you stretch your arms over your head, letting out a grunt. “It’s the fact that he wrote to her every day. It’s like he poured his soul into every word. The words he uses are..literally everything. It makes me swoon over him, and he’s not real. Makes me wonder if someone would do that for me.”

Jean’s head perks up at your words, one of his eyebrows raised in curiosity when he notices the bashful look on your face, eyes averted to the comforter on your bed. “Why do you have that dopey look on your face?”

“Huh?!” your eyes are blown open as you look over at him. “What are you talking about?!”

“I’m talking about that, idiot,” he points at your face, watching your eyes cross faintly to stare at his finger. “You’re acting about that guy in the book.”

The patter of the rain is the only noise that fills the void called silence in your room. His warm eyes don’t leave your face at all, waiting for your answer. You’ve been acting weird ever since you were late to lunch this past week.

He watches your mouth open as if you’ll say something but close it right away, like you were concealing anything you had to hide.

“...well? Y/N? Are you there?”

“Yeah!” you cough into your elbow, running a hand down your face. “I-- you can’t tell anyone.”

“You know I never tell anyone what we talk about.”

You’re silent, a bit too quiet than usual. You fiddle with your fingers before blurting the words that have been eating away at you.

Jean’s heart stops for a moment, eyes wide in shock when he processes it. His blood runs cold as he’s unable to move, frozen like a statue. The signals in his brain begged him to respond, but he couldn’t. He could hear the faintest sound of bells ringing in his ears; all noise surrounding him was now drowned out by his thoughts.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

“You like someone?” he asks in a whisper, barely audible to your ears, but you heard as you nod shyly, biting down on your lip. “Well... who is it?”

“That’s...I can’t say it.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I’m afraid to say it out loud because I don’t want to ruin my friendship with him.”

Friendship? That could be anyone at this point.

I have to figure out who, he thinks as he draws random patterns into the sheets. “Well, tell me about him then. Is he in our grade?” he asks.

“Yeah, he is. He’s in four of my classes.”

Jean was in four of your classes. Math, English, Foreign Language, and Science.

“That’s it?”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Can I finish before you interrupt? Thank you.”

You pause momentarily before speaking again.

“He’s stubborn. I’ve noticed that his demeanor changes when it depends on who he is with. He seems like a hardass and looks like he doesn’t want to be bothered, but he seems like a total softie when he’s with people he loves. Not to mention he’s hot...and tall. He’s blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t bullshit at all. He’s really sweet as well, to me. He always goes out of his way to make sure I’m okay and how my day was. He just..he seems to care for me, and I feel the same way about him.”

Jean takes every word you say into consideration. He’s stubborn, it seems that he doesn’t like to be around people he doesn’t know but loves those he does know. He knows he’s hot. Practically every day he looks at himself in the mirror and thinks about how good he looks.

He’s blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t bullshit at all. He’s really sweet as well, to me. He always goes out of his way to make sure I’m okay and how my day was. He just..he really seems to care for me, and I feel the same way about him.

Jean can feel his doubt and worry turn into happiness and confidence as you keep on ranting, to which he’s not fully paying attention anymore. He knows it's him. It has always been him.

No one else.

Jean likes you.

And you like Jean, that’s all there is to it.

“Do you want to tell him?”

“Yeah...” you trail off, scratching the nape of your neck. “I want to tell him on Friday after school. Do you think he’ll like me back?”

“I think he would. How could he not? He would be a total idiot to reject you.”

You hum at his reassurance, placing your hand on his, squeezing gently.

“Thanks, Jean.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Darling when I’m fast asleep

I've seen this person watching me

Saying, “Is it worth it? Is it worth it?”

Tell me, is it worth it?

Friday comes, and Jean can hardly wait for school to end. He’s not paying attention, his eyes constantly staring from the whiteboard in the front to the clock that tauntingly ticks slower than usual.

He bites down on the pink end of his pencil in anticipation, tapping his foot repeatedly on the floor, the noise resonating through the classroom.

Maybe I should just keep my eyes off the clock, he thinks, lowering his head back to the worksheet their teacher gave the class.

Econ class was a drag. He could care less about the differences in macro and microeconomics, the same with Communism and Capitalism. It’s just a bunch of words that don’t make sense to his brain.

This was one of the classes he didn’t have with you, the last class.

Instead of doing his worksheet (luckily, the teacher said it would be for homework if it wasn’t finished), Jean proceeded to think about ways he could tell you his feelings.

He could be old fashioned, tell you how much he adores you and how happy you make him feel when you’re around. How his heart can be heard from the outside of his body, how his hands got warm and clammy, maybe sweaty when he became too nervous.

He could ask you out on a date. Take you somewhere, one of the places you’ve told him in the past that would make a great date for you. He smiles when he thinks about taking you downtown at night, looking at the soft lights that would brighten the streets; loving the sparkle in your orbs as you look around in awe.

He hums, pleased with himself when he figures out what he’ll do, scratching the back of his ear.

He wonders if you’re thinking the same thing.

You glance at your table partner, looking at his piece of paper before looking down at yours, displeased how his is able to look better than yours. You pick up your eraser, gently wiping the shadings away from your drawing, careful not to crease your paper.

“It’s not that hard you know, you just don’t know how to shade.”

“I know how to shade, Eren,” you reply with a huff, placing your eraser back down. “It’s just...this is a bit harder than usual.”

“All you have to do is follow the markings,” he presses the edge of his drawing pencil against the reference photo both of you are using, tracing the shape of it. “You could honestly just copy the photo, I doubt this woman would even notice.”

You chuckle at his choice of words, shifting in your seat to get comfortable. “I don’t think she would anyway. She just stares at it and calls it an A. I bet for our expressive project, she wouldn’t notice if we copied each other.”

He shakes his head with a smile, the loose strands of his hair swaying with his head movement. “No, she wouldn’t,” he rolls the sleeves of his hoodie to his elbows, grabbing his pencil again. “Then again, we are working on it with each other.”

“Speaking of that, what should we do?”

“Up to you, Y/N. I don’t mind. I’m just trying to pass this stupid class anyway.”

You relish in the silence between you as you gaze at him from your peripheral. You take notice how his hair frames his face effortlessly to the dip in his nose. It’s perfect how it forms to his cupid’s bow to his lips; not too big nor too small either. Just right.

You clear your throat, scratching at the nape of your neck. “Why not do...stages of love?”

That catches his interest.

“Stages of love?” he asks, moving in his chair to face you, a hand propping his head up. “Elaborate?”

“Like you know...how we gain a crush on someone. We like how they make us feel, and soon we think about them some more. Maybe make little scenarios in our head. Then we gain the crush and want to be around them. You know what I mean, right?”

He’s silent, hues that represent the blue of rivers, boring into your own. At first, you think he hates your idea, but then the corner of his lips curls into his infamous grin. “Yeah, I like that. Did you have anything else in mind?”

“Maybe...rejection?”

“Rejection?” he repeats, a bit shocked at how romantic your words were, to something filled with sadness. “And why would you want to do rejection?”

“W-Well,” you stutter, unsure how you should put it. “Everyone always talks about the good in love but never the bad. And I think it could be done good, you know?”

He hums, scratching away at his chin before nodding. “Yeah, alright. That sounds oddly specific, but I like it. We can honestly get started soon, that way, we can finish faster and not worry about it.”

His smile throws you for a loop, your face heating up as you pick up your pencil, trying to distract yourself.

“Say, Y/N?”

“Yes, Eren?” you reply a bit too quickly, cursing yourself out internally for sounding too desperate.

“Can we talk?” his cheeks are a shade of pink, his eyes averted as he plays with one of the strings of his hood, reminding you how a child would distract themselves. The tips of his shoe nudge against yours, barely kicking gently.

“Aren’t we talking right now?”

“No, I mean after school.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

And in my eyes, there is a tiny dancer

Watching over me, he’s singing,

Jean storms out of his Econ class with a grin, hands gripping onto the straps of his backpack as he looks down one end of the hallway before going down the other direction. The art room was three classes down his. Usually, Jean will wait right there by the door for you since you take ages to finally leave the classroom.

When Jean finally reaches the room, he sees that the doors are locked, and the lights inside are off.

Huh, that’s weird, you’re always one of the last to leave, nor are you ever this early.

He stands there for a few more seconds, peering in through the small glass, and sees nothing before taking a step back and quickly continues to walk down the hall. His legs are quicker, going down the two flights of stairs.

His eyes frantically search for the yellow shirt you wore, unable to find you anywhere.

“Sasha!” he calls out once he reaches the end of the stairs, running towards the girl and their friend, who was at the lockers, pulling things she needed to take home for the weekend.

The brunette looks over her shoulder, stopping her conversation with Connie as she shuts her locker. “Yeah, Jean?”

He pants, leaning on his knees before letting out a deep breath and standing straight up. “Have you seen Y/N?”

She ponders for a while before shaking her head, looking over at Connie, who shakes his head, shrugging. “We haven’t seen her since Art class.”

“You didn’t see where she went at all?”

The events before class ending play in her mind before she gasps, snapping her fingers, pointing up at Jean. “Yeah, I know where she went!”

“...are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to guess?!”

She mocks him for a second before pulling her phone out. “I could have seen her leave with Eren. I think they went to the bench in the back. You know the one I’m talking about?”

He’s taken aback for a moment before shaking his head, retaining the information. “Alright, thanks.”

Why would you even be with Eren right now? You never meet with him after-

“Are we still on for this weekend?!” Connie yells when Jean is making his way down the corridor.

“Yeah, we are!” Jean's voice travels through the air, reaching both of his friends, hands clammy as they’re shoved in the front pocket of his pants.

The walk to the back courtyard was tiresome. His feet seemed to drag behind him, an aching feeling forming in his gut. Thoughts pounded against his skull repeatedly, trying to force him to stop. He wants to stop, but he has to go.

He has to tell you he loves you.

He can’t help but smile when you describe the boy you like this week. In his mind and most certainly his heart, he was the king of the world sitting on his high horse as he screamed in victory, letting the whole world know that the person he likes, feels the same way about him.

The fresh air from the outside meets his nostrils as he deeply inhales, allowing it to enter his body before exiting. The sun is the first thing he meets with as he exits the building, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes away from the harsh light. He mutters something under his breath as he looks around for a second.

“She’s a,

She’s a lady and I’m just a boy”

His honey orbs finally stop on a bench where you and Eren are seated, that’s not too far away, but his body is hidden from your view. He lets out a sigh of relief, leaves crunching underneath his feet as he walks, not taking long strides, rather walking slow to rethink what he’ll say.

“Y/N, I’ve liked you for a long...no,” he mutters, stopping in his tracks as he looks down at the green grass and leaves, kicking away at them. “I’ve loved- no, that sounds a bit aggressive, goddammit,” he groans, tugging at the roots of his hairs. “Why is this so fucking hard?!” he growls underneath his breath, leaning against the brick wall.

He never was anything else but honest with you. How could he say it?

What if this ruins your relationship?

...what if you liked Eren?

His breath hitches in his throat when realization dawns on him. His lips part, a soft exhale releasing from within him. His fingers curl around nothing, as if he was holding the air’s hand. The tips of his fingers shake, his whole body stiffening as he stares hard at nothing.

How could he be so stupid?

It all made sense now. How you stayed behind during lunch that one time without saying anything; in the back of his mind that day, he knew that someone had to be a boy, maybe a girl. Even then, you would always let him know.

Jean should have known from the beginning that you only saw him as a brother.

His chest aches as his vision goes blurry, biting down on the inside of his lip to the point where he can taste the bitter metallic on his tongue. He squeezes his eyes shut before opening, wishing he hadn’t at that moment.

He’s singing

“She’s a, she’s a lady and I am just a line without a hook.”

His heart breaks, stomach-dropping when he sees Eren’s hand brings you closer to his body, lips pressed up against yours; your hand placed on his cheek, cradling his face. Even from where he stands, he can sense the urgency in the kiss, how your bodies move together as one, how your fingers grip onto him like he’ll leave any moment.

His lower lip quivers for a second, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, clearing his throat. Jean cranes his neck upward, looking at the sky, muttering the words, “Why him?” over and over like a mantra, no other words coming to mind.

When he closes his eyes, all he can see is you. Not Eren, just you. Those moments where you laugh, cry, or stay silent, those are the moments that flash in his head.

Did he do something to you? Was it something he said?

Did you ever like him at all?

“It’s pointless,” he whispers, pushing himself off the brick wall, immediately making a beeline for the doors. He swallows harshly, legs moving faster than ever, wanting to get out of this hell hole called reality.

Like every day, you’ll walk down the same pavement you’ve been walking on for years.

Only this time, he’s walking alone.

Oh, and if I could take it all back

I swear that I would pull you from the tide.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

taglist: @sleepysnk @jaegerbomb20 @reddriot @kkiimmberly @kingtamakimurder @tamasoft @byougen @spike-this-ass @crimsonbows-and-arrows @squidonmywall @thicmitten (message me to be apart of it!)

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #attack on titan imagines #shingeki no kyojin imagines #eren imagines #eren jaeger imagines #jean imagines #jean kirstein imagines

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kissypoets · 4 years ago

Text

Liability (Reprise)

In which Harry panics about getting mobbed while out for dinner with you and tries to make up for his mistake.

a/n: hihihi omg... this is my first time posting my work on here [ or anywhere, actually ] so please be kind. this was inspired by the song liability (reprise) by lorde!!! was listening to it and this idea just came to me and I really loved how it turned out and really wanted to share. I hope you enjoy :] !!

Word Count: 6, 543

Harry unbuttons his sheer dress shirt, blowing out a puff of air as his chest and stomach relaxes due to being released from the tight space. He folds the sleeves up to his forearms, inked skin being exposed to the cool air in his quiet bedroom, the dimmed iridescent light making his tattoos vivid and clearer than ever before on his tan skin. All the jogging Harry has done at the beach has certainly paid off. His skin was glowing in golden hue, highlighted parts burnt and sunkissed to perfection, leaving a darkened red tone that made him even more captivating. This has always managed to strengthen Harry’s external confidence, finding extra comfort in his tattoos becoming more visible knowing that they covered a part of him he couldn’t imagine exposing bare and blank.

Silence surrounds him as he tears his eyes away from his arm, sitting down on the edge of his bed and letting out another large exhale.

It hasn’t been a great night for him and the fact that he has to come home in a massive space that was filled with nothing but eerie silence certainly makes it worse. He was hoping to stay out all night with you but the moment people got a hold of his whereabouts, he knew better than to sit still and wait for the chaos to slap him in the face. Instead, he rushed both of you outside the restaurant and worry has taken over him completely to the point where taking you home seemed like the best idea to keep you away from the hysteria. You had hoped he was thinking of a more secluded place to bring you to, but when he said you should go, you swallowed the thickening lump in your throat and just nodded your head, trying your best to be understanding of the situation.

He felt beyond stupid thinking about it now. Enraged, dismay and dejected doesn’t even cover the feeling in his gut. Harry was disappointed in himself more than anything, feeling like he’d let you down just within months of being together.

Settling his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, his fingers rubbed his temples due to the pain that was starting to flourish in his dome. He could have done so many things in order to prolong the night and make an effort in your guys' relationship, yet he let the intense fret win him over, causing panic in his brain and feeling like he had no choice but to take you home.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mutters under his breath as he clasps his hands and pressed it hard against his forehead, “you could have taken her here and cooked a lovely dinner, you dimwit.”

Harry also knew he could’ve been the one to keep you safe tonight. If he was going to cause mayhem in your life, the least he could do was bring you some sort of consolation and protect you from all of it.

He feels so beyond disappointed in himself that the ache in his head has started to squeeze his cranium, agonizing pain rushing through every vein in his body. He was so tired of this continuously happening to everyone important in his life. Even though he loves what he does and feels such vigorous happiness and triumph from it, he still looks at it as a miniscule disadvantage for all his friends, family and partner. If Harry kept tabs on how many times the media and a large crowd has hurt the most important people in his life, then he’ll have an endless stack of it collecting dust in a separate room in his large residence.

Harry takes a few more deep breaths until his shaking ceases, doing what he was instructed by his therapist when needing to calm his anxiety and getting rid of the trepidation forming in the pit of his stomach and on the deep end of his throat. He swallows thickly and straightens his back, inhaling and exhaling one last time.

Calling you to explain himself and checking in on how you were doing was the right thing to do right now. He reaches in his pockets, pulling out his phone and instantly putting you on dial. He has your number memorized and favorited in his contacts, the bold font of his nickname for you listed first on the section.

The phone rang once, twice, then four more times before it went straight to voicemail. It didn’t even vex him, he just stayed on the line and listened to your sweet voice echo through his ear drums, savoring every syllable that left your mouth. You sounded like how it felt to touch velvet, or the feeling of bliss that rushes through him whenever he finishes a song. You felt good, you sounded good.

A wave of calmness hits his body, the frustration and disappointment in him halting for a second as he focuses on your saccharine voice, “hey! So sorry for not being able to pick up your call. Chances are I’m sleeping or completely engulfed by a book. I promise to get back to you as soon as possible. Hope you’re well, bye!’

When the line cuts off, Harry looks at his phone screen, enthralled by the brief message. He wasted no time dialing your number again, standing up to pace around the room when worry creeps back in his abdomen. Hands settled on his hip, he bites his lip as he waits in vehement anticipation for you to greet him through the phone. But after several rings, it leads to your voicemail again and he’s left even more concerned.

“Fuck,” he tilts his head back and closes his eyes, shoving one of his hand inside his pants to bring some comfort in his physique, “one more call.”

The airconditioning in the room roared loudly, coming to life and blowing soft, cool air from the ceiling. Harry’s forgotten that he still had his dress shirt on, opened wide on the center and exposing his abdominal muscles and the large butterfly inked on the center of it looking glorious and fresh. The ventilation blew air right on his skin and he can feel the hair rising due to the coldness, not helping the nervousness that was already swallowing the entirety of his stomach.

He continued pacing as the line rings, his breathing in sync with each pause. He wasn’t entirely sure anymore if you’d pick up at all, but when the ringing stopped and there were seconds of silence, he looked at his screen and noticed the time stamp going.

He stopped in the middle of his bedroom and pressed the phone back to his ears, certain you’ve picked up. The knot on his stomach tightened and his chest started beating rapidly, palms sweating inside the pockets of his slacks. He wanted you to pick up but after already failing to hear from you twice, he wasn’t expecting it on the third call.

“Baby?” Harry calls. There was some groaning.

“No idea who the fuck this is, but some of us are trying to sleep, mate,” a deep voice rings through his drums, tiredness and sleepiness evident. Harry’s stomach drops as he stares at the wall in front of him. A male?

Harry’s head starts racing and he swallows a thick ball of swelling anxiety in his throat. He can feel his breathing becoming uneven. He checks the screen of his phone again, making sure that he called the right person. After seeing your nickname still typed out neatly and boldly on the front, he feels a quarter of relief. He shouldn’t think the absolute worst because it could be anyone. Harry has earned multiple different titles under the category of being overly jealous and he admits that it turns him into an arrogant son of a bitch, but he just really couldn’t help it. He wants to be the only one.

“Hellooooo?” the voice on the other end startles him out of his thoughts and he focuses back on the call. The man sighs when Harry doesn't answer. “Look, you’ve called three times on her phone while she was passed out on the couch. She’s in the shower now and I’ll let her know that a--hang on--” he looks at his screen, “that a Harry rang, cool?”

Whoever answered your phone didn’t even bother to wait for Harry to agree, he just hung up and did as he said.

The grip on Harry’s phone tightened without control, his eyes starting to water due to the intense stare he gave his wall. Shower? Why were you so tired beforehand? Who was that? Why, why, why… Multiple questions raced through his brain and he rushed to sit at the end of his bed. You’re too good and you’d never do anything to hurt him like this, he knows that. Or does he? His jealousy is getting the best of him and he senses it. He does his breathing exercises again as he waits patiently to hear from you this time.

The airconditioning starts to die down, the noise it was making starting to decrease and heat starts to radiate throughout Harry’s body. He wasted no time ripping his dress shirt off, fully exposing his toned thorax, muscles flexing due to his nervous breathing and brood.

You’ve mentioned Effy to him multiple times before, considering the amount of interesting stories you’ve told him about your drunken nights together and spontaneous trips; stories he’s certainly loved hearing and continues to anticipate whenever you’re together. He knew that she was your only roommate, that she’s enthralled by women and that you haven’t mentioned any guy friends yet. He even remembers correctly that you’re the only child, your family living across the globe and that the closest thing you have to a relative here in Los Angeles is Effy, no brother and no cousins.

Harry tries not to continue overthinking but he’s really shit in that department. It’s one of the many traits that he despises the most in himself, knowing that his past relationships had gone wrong because of it and he refuses to let that happen again.

Thank god his thoughts were cut off when his phone starts to ring and vibrate on his hand, the same nickname you’ve become accustomed to shining brightly on his phone screen. He stands up from his bed and quickly answers, “hello? Hi. I’m--”

“Harry,” you sigh in relief at the sound of his voice. He doesn’t know that you’ve been expecting a call for over two hours now since he dropped you home, “hi, baby. Are you okay? Finn said--”

“Finn. Is he-- who is he, exactly?” You notice a tint of vulnerability in his voice.

Harry looks down at his feet that were covered in baby pink socks, a hand on his hip while he waits for you to answer. He hopes he didn’t sound pathetic asking that. He felt ridiculous enough as it is and absolutely stupid for not asking about your wellbeing first. He was about to retract and take it back but you’ve managed to chuckle through the phone before answering and Harry bites his lip.

“Effy’s brother. He’s got a research trip down in San Diego so he’s here for a visit. Sorry for however he acted over the phone. I promise he’s a great guy,” you say, “how are you? I so badly wanted to call but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk especially because of what happened at Perch.”

You were always so honest and straightforward with your thoughts. Harry loves that so much about you. Somehow, it boosts his confidence even more whenever he’s around you and he’s never afraid to speak his mind and act however he wants. What he lacks in being able to communicate properly with his partners you make up for in the relationship and he was more than grateful.

“I’m fine. I’m,” Harry pauses for a second before exhaling and changing his words, “I’m not fine actually. I miss you and I’m so terribly sorry for dismissing you. It wasn’t your fault, I swear, I’m just an arse.”

He continues before you can disagree, “I got nervous. That was the first time that’s ever happened while I was with you and I didn’t want it to change anything between us. I didn’t want you to feel differently. I want you now. I mean… I want you to come over now. I want to cook dinner for you and make up for what happened.”

Harry’s heart starts to beat even faster against his chest as he admits his feelings in accurate words. He’s aware how late it is already and you probably have classes tomorrow but he’s hoping you’ll agree anyway so he can fix a wasted and ravaged night. He also thinks he can persuade you into wanting to stay, the need to hold and kiss you intensifying the more he thinks about it. He wants to show you just how sorry he is. He wants you to forgive him and let him show you just how important you are to him. He wants to make you his favorite homemade meal and demonstrate his outrageous skills in bed, which you have been pining for and missing so much.

You were about to answer but he cuts you off once more. You smile slightly as you listen to him speak, “fuck. How are you? How are you feeling? Sorry.”

“Deep breaths, please? You sound really nervous and you have no reason to be, it’s just me,” you have no idea how nervous you make him and how much he worries about you, but he refrains from saying it out loud, not wanting to speak over you again. “I’m bummed about what happened because I really wanted to have a lovely dinner with you but I also understand. I understand and I feel better now that I’m hearing your voice. You have nothing to apologize for, Harry.”

“I do,” he mutters and toys with his belt, eyes still on the floor, “if it weren’t for me, no crowd would have showed up and we would still be sitting on that rooftop with a nice glass of extremely expensive wine. They’ll have no choice but to kick us out.”

You giggle and the sound makes Harry’s anxiety melt away. The tension in his muscles starts to soften and his heart starts to slow down, instantly feeling healed.

Harry looks up and his lips finally curl on its sides, dimples popping out on both of his cheeks and he feels more than relieved. He had no doubts about you understanding the unfortunate circumstance but he was one to always need validation and he feels undeniably reassured by your simple words, and even just the sound of your laugh.

At times, strange happenings like that would commence an argument with his exes. Looking back at it now, it was very odd to him considering he had no control over it. Plus he trusts his fans enough and knows that they wouldn’t do anything to put him and his loved ones in danger. Though mobs happen, he’s aware that they will never cross a line that damages his respect for them.

But you discepher and accept it, without him having to beg you to or explain to you. Another reason why he’s so enamored by you. You just know.

“Yeah, that would have been lovely. But we can always go another time. I saw you today and it was enough for me,” you replied. Harry’s cheeks tightens as he smiles wider, dimples deepening and crinklers appearing beside his eyes. He feels himself flush because of your words and he crunches his nose to calm himself.

“We can try again tonight,” he brings his suggestion back into the conversation, “so, will you come? I can pick you up, I don’t mind.”

You frown. “I’d love to but, it’s almost eleven, classes tomorrow and Effy--”

“Please, darling?” Harry begs, sitting down on his bed again. He hears you inhale upon hearing the sudden word of endearment and he grins. He knows how much you love it when he calls you random pet names, but mostly the sweetest ones that will have you turning into goo.

“God, you’re good,” you admit and tilt your head back, laughing quietly. Harry’s grin grows, “fine. But I can drive myself.”

“No,” he butts in. “I can pick you up. It’s just a twenty minute drive.”

It was a tactic. Harry figured that if you didn’t have your vehicle with you then you will be more likely to stay. But he knows that he’ll cave in on driving you back anyway if you really wanted to go home for the night.

“Harry,”

“Honey,” he throws in another nickname. You inhale. He smiles.

“Fine,” you say in defeat.

Harry’s heart almost leaps out of his chest in triumph and excitement; the fact that he’s seeing you again tonight lit up something in him. He’s grateful that you can’t see the idiotic smile he’s sporting right now, otherwise his body will flush in humiliation and you’ll tease him about it all night. Little does he know, you’ve got the same look on your beautiful face, also thankful that he couldn’t see you. You’re both a mirrorball to each other’s life, lighting one another up in a way that you’ve both always craved.

“See you then, baby,” he says.

___

Due to the lack of traffic, Harry was able to make it in your apartment complex in just under 15 minutes. Mulholland Drive was packed as usual but it still didn’t prevent him from arriving too late. Dressed in black joggers and a black hoodie, curls tied up in a black scrunchie and pushed back in a red bandana, he looked absolutely cozy and at ease.

The brief conversation between the two of you over the phone has brought him slight serenity. He’s still hoping to somehow bring it up tonight and apologize once more knowing what he said through the phone wouldn’t be enough. And he also wants to put his compelling abilities in bed to good use as a way to show you how sorry he was, if you’ll let him.

He adjusts the cool air that left his car’s ventilation, making sure it wasn’t too warm nor too cold once you get in the car. He stares at the open space of your building, waiting for you to come down through the stairs while exhilaration rushes through every vein in his body.

Harry feels absolutely nonsensical because of how much he misses you despite seeing you hours ago. A minute, hour, day or weeks even, will never be enough time and he’s fully aware of that. But thinking about everything he wants to do with you just brings back the same intolerable thoughts; getting mobbed, harassed and surrounded by hundreds of people even if you’re just having dinner in a public restaurant together. He suddenly starts to feel unsettled, desperately needing you to show up within his sight already so he can forget about everything and just focus on you and taking care of you, which is what he has started to love doing most.

Just in time, before Harry’s thoughts can get darker and deeper, he catches you walking carefully down the stairs looking irresistible as always. Your hair was in a low bun, bits of hair falling loose around your face while you sported a lovely white frock dress and matching fluffy slippers.

His whole face lights up in jubilation, mouth almost hurting due to how big his smile was and the wild elation in him sharpens. Harry chuckles as soon as you get in the car, more than delighted to see you. Your scent engulfs him in a wild wave, the air conditioning circulating it throughout his car and he didn’t mind it one bit. He hopes that it would stay in there forever, surrounding him to bring a sense of tranquility.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he greets you, wasting no time and leaning forward to catch your soft lips with his. He feels you take a deep breath and you can feel his smile against you, his hands coming up to stroke your cheeks. Your shock is evident when you laugh quietly while his lips continue to tackle yours, cupping his jaw as you kiss him back and Harry slowly melts due to the feeling. His body slumps from where he sat, savoring your taste and marking you with his.

You pull back, pecking him lightly once more before greeting him back, “hi, handsome.”

His body heats up as he leans back in his seat and starts driving, “cool enough in here for you?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you answer, putting your seatbelt on. “How was the drive?”

“It was fine, no traffic so we’ll be home in no time,” he says, catching a quick glance at you while you fixate your eyes on the road, “you look beautiful, by the way. Love the dress.”

Your breathing changed for a second upon hearing the word home, but you chose to ignore it. Instead, you smile lovingly at him, your hands reaching out to lightly massage the back of his head. He hums at the soothing feeling.

“Thank you, baby,” you reply, a tint of blush creeping up your cheeks. “I missed you.”

Harry feels his body heat up at your confession. He has no idea why you have this much of an effect on him but he loves it. He feels utterly loved and happy, which is something he hasn’t felt in awhile and always wanted to have. Instead of saying it back, he teases you, “sod off, you just saw me hours ago. Clingy much?”

You look over at him in slight surprise, not missing the humor behind his words. He glances at you sideways, lips tilted up in a smirk and his eyebrow lifted jokingly. You pull your hand away and cross your arms over your chest, “you know what, yes, absolutely. I can’t get enough of you.”

Harry didn’t expect you to say that so when you notice his face getting flushed and serious, you couldn’t help but giggle. His whole body went rigid for a couple of seconds, eyes still focused on the road. Instead of answering, his hand reaches towards your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze to show his appreciation. His thumb brushes against your skin a couple of times and he feels it get bumpy, hairs rising because of how good it was making you feel. Harry grins to himself, perceiving the effect he had on you and completely enjoying it.

You put your hands on top of his, feeling the warm veins against your palm and you look out the window, watching the bright lights pass by.

Harry loves going on drives with you as much as you do with him. He hates it that his radio was old and wouldn’t work, but he also refuses to get it fixed. He finds comfort in the silence within the confined space and also enjoys the way the noise outside surrounds him. He loves it even more when you’re on the passenger seat experiencing the therapeutic moment with him. Knowing that he can be with you in comfortable silence gave him a lot of hope in your relationship.

Minutes pass by and only a couple of miles are left until you reach his beautiful Malibu home. Harry remembers the elephant in the room, his chest tightening upon the thoughts of what brought you two in this situation in the first place. Should he address it now or wait until you both get to his house? There’s never really a right time and he knows that. He wasn’t even sure if it was something you want to talk about or if you wanted to ignore the whole thing and instead continue on to have a peaceful time together.

But, you were just patiently waiting for him to address it. You knew that if you brought it up, it’ll make him uncomfortable and he’ll start blaming himself. It was an admission in his part that you certainly want to avoid. The thought of him feeling like he puts you in a dangerous environment squeezes your heart so disturbingly that you can feel it all the way up your brain. You’ll get upset and he might assume the worst; when really, you just want him to understand that you know he can’t control it and that despite everything, you adore him and will never leave, unless, for unbeknown reasons and god forbid, he wants you to.

“Almost there, love,” he cuts his own thoughts off, including yours, clueless about how in sync they were. You look over at him the same time he took a quick glance at you. He looks back at the road and whispers something about how pretty you are but it was so quiet you could barely hear it.

Instead of acknowledging it, you put your hand back where it was on his hair and softly massage his scalp. You feel him lean back a tad, clearly finding peace in your touch. You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying those three words you didn’t know he wanted to say too, both of you too scared to admit and profess it out loud.

_____

“Is there anything I should be doing?” you ask Harry from where you sat in his kitchen, a glass of extremely expensive red wine in your hand. He wanted to open a bottle of Ichiro’s Malt, hoping that it’ll make up for the ones you both could’ve had at Perch.

He twists his body slightly to look at you, answering in the sweetest tone, “nope. Sit there and look pretty, that’s all. I’m making this for you.”

Harry looks absolutely handsome, striking and sexy from where he stood, chopping a bunch of vegetables like it was his professionalism. He’s changed to a plain black shirt, the material hugging his toned body perfectly and emphasizing the muscles on his arm, back and stomach. He even had a dish towel thrown over his shoulder, adding to the whole look. You sipped your wine as you continued to stare, noticing the way his body is flexing as he moves and his tattoos moving along on his skin. You sighed, feeling so lucky.

You decided to walk over to him to catch a glimpse of what he was doing. Harry has certainly mastered the art of cooking; having been able to experience life in Italy, he had acquired the new skill flawlessly. It’s something he’s always wanted to be better at, considering the only thing he knew how to make was his grandfather’s special sandwich recipe and god only knows how tired people are of eating it.

Harry feels your presence beside him as you lean back against the smooth counter, sipping your wine. He looks over at you as he cuts the food, holding an admirable smile on his face. He loves having you here. He loves being this close to you, knowing that you’re within his sight and he was able to be unapologetically affectionate without the judgemental eyes and words of the public.

He speaks when you look back at him with a shine in your eyes, “how’s the wine?”

“Hm, tastes like money,” you say jokingly. He laughs at your answer and you smiled so wide at the sight of his head slightly thrown back, white and perfectly aligned teeth showing with his nose scrunched up.

“I have no doubt about that,” he says, looking back down at the cutting board.

The bottle costs roughly around twenty thousand dollars, more if you count it in pounds. But he chooses not to say it. Instead he asks about your day, as he usually would every single time he sees you or talks to you over the phone, “how was your day? Any progress in your thesis?”

Your ears perk up at the question about your dissertation. Harry has always been interested in it and you fail to understand the fascination. You’ve asked why before and he always admits that it was something that matters to him too, but you feel like that isn’t a good enough reason to be rapted in a boring essay by a grad student.

He tremendously admires the fact that you’ve continued your studies to get a masters in English. He envies it and he wishes he had taken your footsteps. But Harry is so beyond proud of you and just the thought of you becoming a famous novelist like you’ve always wanted makes him feel over the moon. You deserve nothing but good things and he can’t wait until you finish uni and finally build your self publishing pursuit.

“A lot of progress which I’m so relieved about. Remember when we read Course of Love together? I annotated it in the process and a lot of the quotes really came in handy for my essay,” you tell him, “I’ve reached probably eighty-nine pages and we only needed to write a hundred, but I’m aiming for one-fifty, max.”

“Always pushing yourself to work harder than you need to,” Harry says with a soft smile on his face. He starts to mix his ingredients together in the pan on the stove and you watch him work his magic cautiously, “but that’s really good, love. I’m proud of you. I know you’re gonna kick ass and everyone else's thesis will suck.”

“Oh, without a doubt,” you nod teasingly. You’re actually really nervous about it and he knows that. But you’ve mentioned before that talking about it doesn’t really help calm you so Harry doesn’t take the conversation further than that, “what about you? How was your day? Wrote anything new?”

Harry shakes his head and looks over at you as he starts to shake the pan to mix whatever was on it, “you haven’t even told me how your day was, babe.”

“Crap, sorry,” you have a habit of completely disregarding certain parts of a conversation. He found it adorable most of the time but when it came to arguments or discussions between the two of you about serious topics, it vexed him to no end. He remembers you missing the whole point of your conversations sometimes and he loathed it then, “one of my professors ditched today so I only had one class. Took a lot of naps after lunch which was nice then-- then whatever happened at Perch. My day was alright.”

You try to soften a part of your answer with the last statement but it was very clear Harry didn’t miss it. He looks over at you for a quick second and you sipped your wine to avoid eye contact.

You didn’t mean anything by it. It happened today and he was asking about today so you decided to slip it in there in honor of your promises to always be honest, free-spoken and up front with one another. It didn’t necessarily ruin your day, it was just simply dejecting and unlike anything you’ve had to deal with before. But you’re with him now and he’s cooking you something that already smelled absolutely delicious so you were willing to look past it. But Harry couldn’t and you knew that.

He lowers the heat on the stove to keep the food sizzling but not to the point where it’ll burn. He wipes his hands with the towel on his shoulder before approaching you with an unreadable expression on his face. You lean back further against the counter as his hand guides your arms to wrap around his neck, putting his hands on your waist and squeezing affectionately. He stares deep into your eyes and you wondered how he was so good with that; how it didn’t make him look nervous despite being the shyest person that you know.

Softly, he speaks, “I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry about that. I’m a dick.”

Mirth creeps into your eyes at his last word and your lips unintentionally curls on its side. He has no idea why you started smiling but he did too. He feels you interlock your fingers against his skin as you answer him, “the way you say dick is really amusing. But you aren’t and you have nothing to apologize for. You have no control over it.”

You’re so humorous and he loves it so much. He loves you. “I am a dick and I will apologize because even if I can’t control it, I’m still the reason why it happens. The way I acted afterwards was very irrational too. Just admit it, I’m a dick.”

“If I agree, will you stop apologizing and calling yourself that?”

“Yes,”

“Fine, you’re a dick,”

“I know and I’m sorry,” he smiles at you.

You squint your eyes as his whole face beams, your hands squeezing his face and squishing his skin, “cheeky.”

He laughs and pulls you closer to him, “come here, baby.”

Your noses touch as he leans down to get closer to your face, his lips barely touching yours. Whenever he inhales, your engrossing scent engulfs his nostrils and it brings him great comfort. Your hands cup his jaw, thumb caressing his cheeks as he opens his mouth once more, “I mean it. I regret taking you home and acting the way I did. I should’ve apologized right there and then. I should’ve taken you here and found a way to make the night better but I’m trying to make up for it now. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me in a really fucking long time and I don’t want things to change because you finally got a glimpse into another part of my life. I won’t let anything happen to you, please know that, but it will get worse. Mobs happen and it’s horrifying at times.”

It’s something that really worries Harry and you see it take over his whole figure. His face shows vivid perturb and his body has become slightly tensed from his words. It’s true; it will get worse and when you witness it, you will be horrified. It’s something Harry has always had to worry about before making the decision to fully commit to someone. It’s affected his past relationships abdominably and he doesn’t want the same thing happening between the two of you. Like he said, you’re far too important to him and for something as riotous as this to come in between that will be heart shattering and utterly painful. This was his life, it will always be like this and if you can’t accept nor understand that, then who will? He only wants you.

You have no idea what to say, eyes boring straight into his pale irises, clear brood written all over it. Your thumb continues to massage his skin which slightly soothes Harry’s tensed muscles and he’s worried about what will come out of your mouth. He leans back a little to read your face but your mind is so empty that the only thing you can utter really was, “I love you and I’m here for as long as you want me to, okay?”

Your words made Harry lean back further out of reflex, a sharp intake of air filling his lungs upon hearing your revelation. The sudden realization of what you just blurted out forced your eyes shut, hands covering your face in slight embarrassment. You weren’t ashamed that you said it, you were just scared whether or not he felt the same way. You hear Harry laugh and you peak out of your fingers, making him laugh harder. You take your hands off to playfully scold him, your skin saturated with redness, “oh god! Will you stop? I love you and I’m not scared to say it. Nothing’s funny about that.”

Harry chuckles some more, making his way forward to you again and takes your hand in his. He wraps it back around his neck, leaning down to take a good look at you.

His heart is beating so fast in his chest and he was so happy that he didn’t even care if you could hear it. He’s been wanting to say the same three words to you every single time he’s with you; even when he’s just admiring you while you read a book or watching a movie, or when the two of you are simply hanging out and talking. He catches the obvious adoration in your bearing and always notices the twinkle in your eyes when you look at him. He hopes he’s been showing it as well because there’s no better feeling than loving you and he wants you to know that.

You shy away from his stare and he titters. He tilts your chin up, teeth on full display on his face while his cheeks deepen into dimples, “you love me?”

“Yes,” your noses touch and you sigh. “I’ve said it like twice already and you, zero times.” You poke his chest in a light hearted manner.

“Actually, you just couldn’t take the hint before,” he teases you. “I thought it was very clear that I love you.”

You bite your lip to keep your smile from widening and you close your eyes momentarily before locking eyes with him again. He scrunches his nose to keep himself from becoming too joyful because of the exchange between the two of you. You tease him back, “you’re just doing a shit job at showing it, that’s all.”

Harry gasps at your comeback and wraps both of his arms around you without hesitancy, squeezing you as tight as he can and lifting you gently off of the floor. You laugh so loud that his ears perked up at the sound, making his heart beat rapidly and somehow faster than it has ever done before.

He loves you. And you love him back. There wasn’t any doubt about it between the two of you, it was just a matter of finding the right moment to admit it at last to each other. And what better moment is there than this one in the kitchen, where the food on the stove is at its edge of burning without the two of you even noticing.

Harry puts you back down on the floor and both of you catch your breath. You took the lead this time and grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grasps the back of your neck with one hand and the other softly cupping your jaw. He smiles against you and you feel it, butterflies forming in your stomach as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls. He kisses you so deep, hard, full of love and savors your taste like there was no tomorrow. You feel his hand start to crawl up to grip bits of your hair but before you can let it get further than that, you pull back and you both inhale so loud it erupted an echoing chuckle.

“Food’s gonna burn, babe,” you tell him, breathing hard.

“I’m so in love with you,” he simply says back.

832 notes · View notes

clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Snapshot ~ I.L.

A/n: 🥺 - that’s all I got for this one.

Request: “...Isaac lahey x male reader. The reader is a photographer and is super shy and sweet and Isaac likes him so the pack is pushing him to talk and ask him out.” By anon

MASTERLIST

“Oh won’t you smile for me?” His smile was wide and brilliant. Breathtaking. It made Isaac shift, awkward, feeling his body go stiff as his mind went blank.

God, Y/n would the death of him.

“Why?” He grumbled, trying to play uninterested like he always did. Easier that way, he reminded himself. No one could get close. He couldn’t be let down again, not after everything he-

“Because you’re pretty when you smile.”

Isaac jerked, then cleared his throat, feeling his face burn. “I’m a guy. Aren’t I supposed to be handsome?”

Y/n wore a coy smile. “Aren’t art pieces always described as pretty?” He shrugged and Isaac felt the need to bolt. But that would have looked suspicious, so he didn’t. “I don’t know why pretty is reserved for women when men can be art as well. It’s an adjective - describes anyone. Anything. Dictionary definition says nothing about boys not being able to be pretty.

God he was smart too. Kill me now.

It had been like this for three and a half weeks now. It had all started when Isaac and Y/n had met by accident. Isaac was overwhelmed by all the smells and sounds that were jumping out at him after a particularly rough morning that had followed an even rougher weekend with his dad. He’d come to school thinking that it would be his favorite day, like every Monday was, because it meant he could be away from home and focus on something more pleasant and also more important. But it had been too much, the time that had come before school. And he had carried that with him, every noise and touch and look and demanding question as teachers took pleasure in catching him off guard and making him look like an idiot.

So, for lunch, he’d gone out to the field and hidden under the bleachers to get some peace and quiet like he used to before he was a wolf. Before he was part of Derek’s pack. Before his life had gotten a little better and a lot more stressful. Or, that had been the plan anyway. When he got there, someone else was already curled in the soft grass, eyes close and body completely relaxed. The boy’s arms were stretched out ahead of him, fingers open and almost reaching for a camera that had been abandoned.

It seemed like the person had fallen asleep while looking at or taking pictures, or maybe just holding the camera with no purpose. Isaac had woken the person up and had been instantly stolen of all ability to speak or think or even breathe as the most beautiful eyes opened. The boy made the cutest expression Isaac had ever seen - part confused and part disappointed, but also part happy. There was a small smile mixed with foggy gazes and knitted eyebrows. The boy slowly looked at Isaac and spoke. “I’m sorry. Am I in your spot?”

His voice was so... scratchy. It was like sex.

Isaac swallowed. “No. No sorry.” He’d gone to leave but then the boy had sat up, insisting he stay, and they had begun talking after Isaac had hesitantly agreed. Ever since then, Isaac and Y/n had been very close. It was perfectly casual between them, and neither had any problem with talking about whatever, or just sitting in silence if either needed that.

They were quite similar. Both tending to be quiet and withdrawn if given the chance. Y/n saw right through Isaac’s little show of swagger and confidence, and tended to hug him if he tried too hard, as if knowing he was doing it to try and deflect how terrible he felt. They could be real with each other, no expectations. It was like nothing else Isaac had ever felt.

Then one day, things had shifted. Just a little. Small enough that Isaac hadn’t really noticed it for a while. He knew that slowly they started to look at each other longer, even when neither of them were talking. They drifted closer, leaning against each other or resting a head on the other person’s shoulder, or laying in a lap, or just really anything to be touching. Isaac had gotten into the habit of just continually resting his arm across the back of Y/n’s shoulders. They invaded each other’s space constantly. They memorized each other’s orders for all the different places they went to get food, and if one of them was without something to eat, there was no scene made if one of them stole a bit from the other. It was drastically different than how Isaac acted with anyone else and it wasn’t long before others had started to notice.

“You should ask him out,” Erica had hummed one day, looking at her nails.

“Who?” Isaac had asked, eyebrows coming together in confusion.

“Y/n,” Erica had responded like it was the most obvious thing ever.

Boyd nodded. “You two have something special, and neither of you are hiding it. Kind of refreshing to see actually.”

Derek had raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Y/n?”

Isaac had been glaring at Erica when the question had been asked, so when he looked over his face still had traces of annoyance, as did his voice. “My friend. I met him under the bleachers about a month ago. We’re just friends though.”

After that, even those from Scott’s pack had begun to play at hinting for Isaac to make moves on Y/n. While they were fighting and taunting each other, Stiles made a snide comment about “his boyfriend” to Isaac, and somehow Isaac knew immediately who he was talking about.

Even outside of fighting when Scott tried to convince Erica and Isaac to be more careful, he said something that got under Isaac’s skin. “What would Y/n think about all of this? Because if he had to pick sides, I don’t think he’d pick Derek’s.”

He’d been handling it all well, he thought. Through all of that he’d bee able to keep denying his feelings and push away anything close to daydreams... unless he was really out of it and super bored and wanted to go to some sort of happy place, where he would return to that first day under the bleachers, except... every time he went there, Y/n and Isaac always ended up kissing. Despite all of the others’ prodding and the weird thoughts he could never totally shake, he could convince himself he didn’t feel that way toward Y/n.

Then Y/n had started flirting with him.

And now they were here.

Isaac tried to keep that line between them and two boys in love clearly, but every time he did Y/n danced around him as he drew with chalk, crossing the line before he could finish. Or sometimes stepping right over it, grinning smugly, arms crossed over his chest in teasing playfulness. Isaac couldn’t friendzone Y/n if he tried, and Y/n wasn’t giving any room to even try.

“Hey there Handsome.” Isaac felt his face heat up as Y/n moved into his view. The other boy had an adoring expression on his face.

The thing was, Y/n was really never like this with anyone else. He was usually really shy and reserved. The two had been open from the start, allowing them to bypass anxiety and shyness pretty quickly. So Isaac couldn’t tell if this was a secret side to Y/n that he couldn’t get the confidence to use on anyone else, or if he was actually flirting because he was interested. It would be Isaac’s luck that Y/n though the flirting was platonic and fun and meaningless while Isaac was losing his whole shit every time it happened.

“Hey.” His voice cracked when he said it so he cleared his throat. “What’s up, Y/n?”

There seemed to be slight disappointment that colored Y/n’s eyes. “Nothing much. I was just thinking about you so I thought I’d pop over and say hello to my favorite curly haired high schooler.” He reached up, running a hand through Isaac’s hair.

God Isaac almost lost all of his cool right in the middle of the damn hallway. There was nothing he liked more than having his hair played with, and he had imagined the feeling of Y/n’s hands combing through the strands hundreds of times but none of it had prepared him for reality.

Suddenly his body was hot and his mind was foggy and the bell was ringing for class to start and Isaac had had enough. He looked around quickly for anything, and then grabbed Y/n’s hand when he saw a janitorial closet, puling them both inside and locking the door. He rounded on Y/n. “Isaac-?”

“Do you understand how incredible you are?” Isaac demanded. “I never fail when I need to get my shit under control. I learned a long time ago how to seem calm and collected when everything else inside is burning to the ground. I can do it with anyone and everyone else and then you come within five feet of me and I’m a mess. Jesus Y/n please tell me that you understand how much I want to kiss you at literally all times and how absolutely insane it’s driving me.”

For a second, Y/n was stunned. Then, slowly, the biggest grin Isaac had ever seen bloomed on and Y/n reached up, grabbing Isaac by the collar and pulling him into a heated kiss.

The rest, I suppose, is history.

#isaac lahey #teen wolf #male reader #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x male reader #isaac lahey imagine #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x male reader

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organic-sprolden · 3 years ago

Text

So I watched the Dear Evan Hansen movie.

Here are my basic thoughts.

I cried 3 times, and it probably would've been more if I didn't know what was coming. Although, "I didn't fall, I let go" will always get me, even if I knew what was happening and exactly when.

I liked the fact that they had a lot of the original lines from the musical because it was just so much more quotable for me and likely every other DEH fan.

I was hesitant about the new songs at first, and disappointed at the loss of the classic Good For You, Anybody have a map and Disappear (not To Break In A Glove though, that song can burn.) but in context, A Little More and Anonymous Ones were pretty great.

I really loved the new ending where we see Connor in rehab singing his song, I love how we were able to see more of just him.

Not him through the perspective of others.

Also the ending when Evan confesses what he did was sweet I suppose, but there still weren't any repercussions for his actions. Which I'm pretty sure was the whole point if them adding in that scene, rather than having the Murphy's take the entire fall.

Honestly though, I don't mind it, It's not like I wanted Evan to get all the hate in the world. I just thought that if they went through the trouble of changing the story, they'd add some actual conflict.

I was wondering why they changed the setting of each of the songs. (for example, Waving Through The Window starting in his bedroom, and not after Connor pushes him. If I Could Tell Her being in the Murphy's living room and not in his bedroom, leading to the memorable and rather unfortunate first "kiss" on Zoe's dead brother's bed.) And why sometimes the songs seemed too rushed and a little out of place, despite it coming after the same line it can after in the musical. (For example, So Big/So Small.)

Also, the musical scenes were very underwhelming. Waving Through The Window, Sincerely Me, Only Us, For Forever, So Big/So Small, Words Fail all had so much potential. Moving from stage to film opens up so many possibilities for cinematic elements that's would elevate and induce many more emotions than it previously could. The songs were basically just the person sitting in one place, singing the song, maybe with a little dialogue in between verses.

I want to see more.

I want to feel the songs, even if I already know the musical soundtrack by heart. At times it felt as though they had the songs thrown into the script just because the theatre fans would riot if their favourite musical songs weren't in the film.

Which kinda sucks.

Alana was... interesting.

I feel like I hated her less in this, but it's probably because we just didn't get to see her. Anonymous Ones is a great premise for a sing and honestly I was going to cry for the reprise, but it just didn't hit as hard as I expected it to.

However, Anonymous Ones is the only song that had that X-factor the others were missing. I love that it showed that even if you think you're alone and forgotten, there's always other people. and sometimes, you get so caught up in your head that you don't take the time to notice what's right there. Or, as the song says, "The parts we can't tell, we carry them well, but that doesn't mean they're not heavy".

The thought that "no one will understand me, everyone else has a perfect life" is honestly a little selfish but it is a thought that a lot of people have. That is what I interpret Waving Through The Window as for the most part, and Anonymous Ones is basically the opposite.

The scene where Alana walks into the gym, and we see Evan in the background was really insightful to me. I appreciate that.

Jared is another one we didn't see often, so was Heidi (but of course, that's basically her whole character.) But with Jared, we lost some of the best moments of his sarcastic/teasing personality ("School shooter chic" is the main thing coming to mind.) As is, he didn't have much personality, and no real reason to even be in the movie, other than to be someone that Evan talks to to explain things to the viewing audience.

This Zoe was unexpectedly really great. Especially how she did Requiem. I will always appreciate and fully understand her reluctancy to just join the crowd and say "He was a great guy, he will be missed". Her having the backbone to say "No, he was an awful person to me" is really inspiring. so many people that were victims to abuse feel like they should just go along with it as not to dampen the vision others had of the person, but it's not right.

So yes, this Zoe did a really good job of bringing the book Zoe to life on screen.

Speaking of the book, I wish they had included Miguel. Even if it was just as the guy at the end who sent Evan the video, I wish they would've shown just a little callback to Connor's only true friend.

I feel like bringing him back, like in the book, at the end to talk to Evan would've been so much better than Evan spilling the beans then just reading all of Connor's favourite books from when he was 13.

I will probably eventually watch this again and maybey thouts will change, but as of right now, I rate this movie 7/10 on its own, and 4/10 in relation to the musical and the book.

(there's also a whole lot more o can say about the actual message behind all of this, the issues I have with the actual plot, and the casting concerns I have but for now, an open review and discussion will do.)

#dear evan hansen #dearevanhansen #deh movie #dear evan hansen movie #ben platt #evan hansen #connor murphy

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renjuseyo · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request a Lucas x male reader where Lucas is trying to ask reader to prom but reader always gets distracted by friends or is too busy with school activities. Then when Lucas gets the chance to reader says no. But reader surprised Lucas with a date at the place Lucas asked him to be his boyfriend. P.S. They are already together for 2 years. P.P.S. I love your writings stay healthy and make sure to take care of yourself

-🧍🏽‍♂️

prom ; lucas

group: nct / wayv / superm

pairing: wong yukhei / reader (male)

synopsis: yukhei only has one goal in mind: to ask you out to prom in the most perfect way possible.

genre: fluff

i had a bit of writer’s block with this one, but i hope this is what you wanted anon! ^^ as always, feedback is greatly appreciated~~

“my plan is absolutely foolproof. there’s no possible way it could fail.”

“that’s what fools say.”

yukhei climbs to a seated position on his bed, folding his arms in a huff. “why would you say that, dude? way to encourage a guy.”

yangyang doesn’t even bat an eye, adding details to a sheep he’s doodling on his economics assignment. “well, when you put it like that, it’s going to spite the universe and make your plan fall apart on its head.”

dejun nods in agreement, tapping on his phone. he’s probably texting that guy he’s been eyeing from his history class, or playing solitaire like the old man he is at heart. “the universe loves playing tricks on happy, unsuspecting people.” he sets his phone down to look straight at yukhei. “happy, unsuspecting people like you. i love your confidence, but i’m just saying. don’t get all mopey if something does happen.”

he crosses his legs, pouting. “i get what you’re saying, but come on, how can a simple promposal go wrong?” dejun and yangyang give him a knowing look, one that screams there are several things that could go wrong, actually. “if it were a big, extravagant one, maybe, but come on. i’m taking (name) out to sushi and bringing him a bouquet of flowers. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“well, he could get food poisoning from the sushi.”

“or he pricks himself from the flowers.”

“or he-”

“i didn’t literally ask you guys!” yukhei interrupts, exasperated. dejun and yangyang give him a mischievous smirk. “you two are horrible.”

yangyang blows him an air kiss. “just here to give you a reality check, my love.”

the two had originally gone over to yukhei’s house for a study party, but seeing how dejun was on his bedroom floor playing solitaire, and yangyang was doodling sheep all over his assignment, they were doing anything but. somewhere along their “study session”, someone had brought up the topic of prom, which was to happen in four weeks. while the two of them had no big plans for promposals (because dejun is waiting for the guy from his history class to make the first move, and yangyang is perfectly content being single), yukhei had constructed a plan to ask his boyfriend of two years to prom.

yangyang sets his pencil down and spins around from his seat. “what happened to your love for big, extravagant promposals? i remember you gushing about that kind of stuff all the time,” he comments.

“(name) doesn’t like being in the spotlight. i think i’ll just make him uncomfortable if i pull one of those stunts with people nearby,” yukhei explains. he would be lying if he said he’s never thought of creating the most memorable promposal for him. hey, it’s not his fault he just wants to flaunt his cute boyfriend for the world to see.

dejun and yangyang nod in understanding, except they don’t, because they relish in the spotlight. “well, prom is in four weeks. will you even have the time to ask him?” dejun asks. “your boyfriend practically drowns himself in homework. plus, he’s on the student council.”

“we both may be busy with school and clubs, but mark my words when i say i’ll get to him!”

“well, as taken as you and your boyfriend are, i hope you realize that there are still people who’ll be lining up to ask you two,” yangyang points out.

yukhei pats his chest, a confident smile making it way back to his lips. “i’m not worried that someone else will woo him. he has me, after all!”

yangyang gags. “gross. i feel sorry for him.”

dejun nods in agreement, cringing. “me too... yangyang, come on, let’s actually be studious and do our homework, unlike that one there,” he sneers, pulling out a pen from his pencil pouch.

yukhei looks at them, exasperated. “oh now you two choose to do your homework?! where was this attitude when i told you two to work on it earlier?!” he exclaims.

dejun shrugs. “i have no idea what you’re talking about. as far as i’m concerned, yangyang and i are students who actually focus on our work.” he gestures at himself and said boy, but the way he’s hunched over his economics assignment doodling more sheep completely contradicts his words. “seriously yangyang? work with me here!” he shrieks, smacking his back.

the younger hisses in pain, glaring at him. “leave me alone! let me draw in peace!”

the older snorts, swiping his pencil away from him. yangyang makes a noise of protest, lunging at dejun to retrieve his pencil, and soon the two are engaged in a fight, limbs tangled together. yukhei can only watch in disappointment. sure, he’s chaotic, but his energy is no match for them. their energy seems to multiply when the two of them are together.

yukhei turns his attention back to the calculus textbook on his lap, ignoring the fight ensuing before him. though his mind is mainly focused on the problems on the pages, a part of him recalls dejun’s words. there isn’t many reasons for him to be worried about his plans backfiring, but then again, the universe has always loved to meddle with people’s affairs. he just hopes it will treat him kindly this time around.

though it’s your final year of high school, you and yukhei only share one class together, to his dismay. even in the hour he gets to spend with you, you’re too busy focusing on the lesson at hand. there’s always lunchtime, too, but both of you have your own respective friend groups, so even if you two are dating, you two spend more time eating with your friends than with each other. he doesn’t really mind, but now that he plans on enacting his plan, not seeing you often will make things harder.

after the bell rings, signalling the beginning of lunch, he makes a beeline out of the door and dashes towards the cafeteria. thanks to a secret source (which is really just shotaro and really isn’t a secret), he learns that you usually eat lunch on the roof of the school.

when he pushes open the door to the roof, he’s relieved to see you with your friends. at the sound of a newcomer, you all turn to look at the door. “yukhei?” you ask, surprised.

his smile widens upon seeing you. “hey (name)!” he chirps.

your friend sungchan raises a brow. “not often we see you here, lucas. do you need something?” he asks.

“yeah, i actually need to talk to you, (name).”

you stand up, slinging your backpack over his shoulder. “sorry, can it wait? we kind of have plans,” you tell him.

yukhei gives them a quizzical look, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you or your friends. “it’s jisung’s birthday today,” jaemin explains. “we’re treating him to food later.”

he recognizes the name; jisung is a first year student who has become increasingly popular thanks to his position on the dance team. he’s also one of your friends and someone you tutor. now that he thinks about it, he recalls yangyang mentioning something about his birthday this morning, but he didn’t pay much attention. maybe he should have. “oh, okay. well, are you free later today?” he asks, sending you a hopeful look.

judging from your apologetic smile, he already can guess the answer is no. “sorry, we’re holding a surprise party for him later. i think i’m probably going to stay over at his house, too.”

renjun, who’s standing beside you, gags. “you two are so sweet, it’s kind of sickening.”

you turn to glare at him, who snickers at your look. “how? and you’re one to talk, mr. i-miss-jeno-even-though-i-saw-him-twenty-minutes-ago,” you spit. his expression is quick to contort to one of embarrassment, spluttering at the name of his boyfriend. yukhei feels like you don’t even realize his presence anymore.

to regain your attention, he clears his throat. “can you spare just a minute? i promise it’ll be quick.”

you turn to face him, but not before sticking your tongue out at a glowering renjun. “oh, s-” you’re cut off when your phone dings, and you glance at the screen to read the notification. a few seconds later, you look back up at him. “on second thought, i don’t think i can, sorry. chenle just texted me saying he and jisung just left mr. jung’s classroom. we should get going now.”

your friends nod and begin packing their belongings. once they’re all set, they walk towards the doorway leading back into the building, where he’s standing. they all pour into the small doorway, leaving you and yukhei alone. “sorry, how about next time?”

yukhei nods. it’s not like he can stop you from celebrating your friend’s birthday, unless he wants to be perceived as a jerk. “no worries, go celebrate jisung’s birthday. make his day a memorable one,” he reassures, smiling.

making sure your friends are far enough, you lean forward and peck him on the lips, catching him off guard. once you lean back, you smirk upon seeing his flustered expression. “catch you another time~”

and with that, you jog back inside to catch up to your friends, leaving a blushing yukhei behind. sure, his first attempt didn’t quite go the way he expected, but he’s not particularly disappointed, considering how he got a kiss from you. plus, there are plenty of other times to ask you again.

perhaps asking you to prom might be harder than yukhei had anticipated.

after jisung’s birthday, he had waited to catch you again when you were free, but you were occupied with homework, as well as duties of being on the student council. apparently jisung’s birthday was the only day you were free. as much as he sympathizes with you, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. he hasn’t even been able to talk to you, let alone treat you to a proper meal.

after several weeks of not talking to you, he decides it’s time to take matters into his own hands. if he can’t take you out on a proper date, then he’ll just bring it to you! after inquiring his friends yerim and mark for your schedule, he learns that fridays are normally your free days. he recalls the previous fridays where you were too busy to hang out with him, catching up on projects and avoiding deadlines, so he hopes that this friday you’ll be free.

after school one afternoon, yukhei catches you by your locker, talking to two people he recognizes from the student council. as soon as you see him, you wave the two farewell, and they go their separate ways. he leans against your locker door, smiling down at you. “hello my sweet~” he greets.

though you smile back at him, he can tell you’re drained, judging from the way your eyes flutter close and the yawn that rips out of your throat. “hi,” you greet. “sorry, it’s been a long week.”

he watches as you sluggishly shut the door. “tired?” he asks, draping an arm over your shoulder.

he hums in delight as you lean into his arm, warm and snug. “that’s an understatement,” you tiredly sigh. “i thought being the secretary was easier than the president, but i’m exhausted. all this filing and meetings can really kick a guy’s ass. i finally finished my biology report, but i still have to study for the history test that’s on tuesday. i don’t know how mark does it, being the president and captain of the basketball team. he doesn’t even have bad grades, either.”

yukhei laughs upon hearing you rant, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “i’m sure it must be hard. do you think your tired self is up for sushi, though?”

at the mention of food, you instantly perk up. “you know i can never say no to food.”

once you two walk out of the building, pushing through the swarms of students gathered by the entrance, you both head towards the bus stop. five minutes later, you both board the bus and are lucky enough to snag seats. in the ten minutes it takes to get to the sushi restaurant you two often frequent, he’s surprised to see you fast asleep on his shoulder. you really must be tired, because you don’t normally fall asleep so quickly.

ten minutes later, he nudges you awake (he has to refrain from pinching your cheeks at your dazed state), and you both step off the vehicle. five minutes of walking later, you approach the restaurant. for a friday evening, he supposes he’s lucky to have gotten there without it being packed.

you both greet the waitress by the entrance, who leads you both to a booth near the back. after serving you both your beverages and menus, she slinks away, presumably to attend to other patrons. as you browse through the menu, wondering what to order, yukhei glances at you, who seems too concentrated on the menu before you to notice him. he mentally reviews his plan for what seems to be the twentieth time today: order food, eat, pretend to go to the restroom and head to the flower shop next door, and woo you into going to prom with him. what could possibly go wrong?

(upon saying this statement, he learns that’s the worst possible thing you could say. at least, if you want the universe to mess with your plans.)

after discussing what you two will order, he waves down the waitress from earlier, who gets both of your orders. you two spend around five minutes catching up on your lives, talking about upcoming events and games at school. soon your food arrives, and you both dig in. he doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you until he sees the way your eyes twinkle as you happily recall the time the vending machine malfunctioned and gave you two bags of skittles instead of one. it’s endearing, seeing you get excited over the little things.

as you pluck some calamari out of a small bowl, he realizes it’s time to put his plan in action. “hey (name), i’m going to the bathroom. feel free to order some more food if you want, it’s all on me~”

“when you put it that way, it’s like you’re begging to go broke,” you joke, though you nod nonetheless. yukhei gets up and makes a beeline to the restroom. he stands in front of the entrance, peeking behind the wall to make sure you don’t see him. a few seconds later, he quietly sneaks back towards the entrance. luckily, you’re too occupied with the food to notice him.

he steps out of the store and heads straight for the flower shop next door. when he steps inside, the bell above the door jingles, signalling a newcomer. “welcome to yong’s flowers~!” a florist chirps.

“hey hyung,” he greets. the florist turns away from a pot of tulips, revealing a bright smile and even brighter hair. “i came here for the flowers i was telling you about.”

the florist nods, heading towards the back. when he returns, he brandishes a bouquet of red roses to him. “here you go!”

when yukhei moves his hand to his pocket, the florist waves a dismissive hand. “don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. i hope things go well with you and (name)~” he hums, giving him a cheeky smirk.

normally he would decline the kind offer, but he needs to get back to the restaurant soon, otherwise you’ll get suspicious. “thanks, taeyong-hyung. i’ll pay you back next time! wish me luck!” with that, he waves him farewell and exits the store.

he runs straight back to the restaurant, bouquet in hand. the waitress from earlier seems to notice the new addition, sending him a knowing smile. he pays no mind to it though, simply heading straight to you. he notices three new plates on the table, but hey, he isn’t complaining. you haven’t had the chance to properly eat the past week, if you count salads as a proper meal. when you look up from your salmon belly, your eyes widen at the roses in his hands.

it’s now or never, he supposes. he sits on his seat, bashfully sliding the bouquet to you. “i’ve been wanting to do this for the past week, but you’ve been pretty busy, so i haven’t been able to catch you alone. but (name) (last name), would you do me the honor of being my prom date?” he asks, sending you a hopeful look and a bright smile to top off the look.

silence envelops the room, save for chefs yelling and the stove roaring back in the kitchen. from the corner of his eyes, yukhei realizes that the lack of patrons means extravagant movements like his are bound to be noticed by everyone. plus, he wasn’t exactly quiet when he popped the question. he usually doesn’t care, anyways, thriving in the attention. even now, he has nothing to be worried about. besides, he knows what your answer will be.

apparently not.

eyes still wide, you slowly remove the wooden chopsticks from your lips, placing it on your empty plate. he assumes your eyes are still wide out of shock, but when the silence gets too loud for his liking, his smile falters. “(name)...?”

you rapidly blink back to reality. “oh, right, sorry. um...” you take in your surroundings, and he suddenly wonders if this was too flashy for your liking. he watches you with bated breath; you look like you’re doing some mental calculations, eyebrows furrowed like they are when you encounter a particularly difficult question on a test. after you ponder the several options laid out in your head, you take a deep breath, giving him your most sincere look. “i’m sorry, i don’t think i can accept this.”

those nine words and thirty-one letters are enough to crush yukhei’s spirit, evident by the way he visibly deflates. he quickly regains his composure, hoping the smile he has is enough to assure you he’s fine. but from the way you grimace, he can tell he’s doing a poor job at it. “it’s not your fault yukhei, i promise! it’s just...” your voice falters, and the same, contemplative look from earlier returns. “i have something important i have to do that day. i’m sorry.”

no one seems to have seen this rejection coming, and he mentally reprimands himself for thinking of every scenario except the one where you reject him. apparently he looks so devastated that the curious eyes from earlier immediately turn their attention elsewhere, probably not wanting to put him in the spotlight any further. sure, he feels embarrassed, but most importantly, he’s curious. what could you possibly have to do on prom? it’s a friday night, meaning you should be free... maybe you’re occupied with student council duties? but if that’s the case, you would just tell him that. there’s no reason to hide it.

maybe you just don’t want to go with him.

the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he tries to shake it off. “oh, okay. don’t worry about it,” he says, tone flat. you try to change the topic and compliment the roses and thank him for the food, but no matter what you say, the ugly feeling of disappointment still settles itself in his stomach.

the rest of your dinner is relatively uneventful. yukhei doesn’t want to make you feel more guilty than you already feel, so he tries his best to engage himself in your conversations. after you two eat your fill, he pays for you both (and is surprised to see that the waitress from earlier docks off the price of a few plates. does he really look that pitiful?) and leaves the restaurant. the sun has set, and it won’t be long before the sky darkens.

he approaches the bus stop, waiting for your bus to take you home. “well, i guess we part ways now. see you next week?” he asks.

you nod, clutching the bouquet of roses in your hands. though you had rejected his promposal, he still pushed you to take the roses, claiming he wouldn’t have anywhere to place them at home when in reality, he just didn’t want to be reminded of his failure. “yeah.” you send him another apologetic smile. “again, i’m really sorry. i promise you it isn’t because of you, it’s just...” your voice trails off again. “i have plans.”

he makes the mistake of wondering if these plans mean you’ve accepted someone else’s offer. no, that can’t be it... we’ve been dating for two years. he wouldn’t just accept someone else’s offer. (name) isn’t like that, he attempts to reason. pushing these thoughts away before he says something he’ll regret, he nods. “don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” as if on cue, the bus begins to roll up in front of you two before coming to a halt. “well, your bus is here. get home safe.”

you smile, letting a few people off before boarding the bus. “you too. thanks for the meal and the flowers,” you thank.

he waves, making sure you’re safely aboard before beginning his journey back home. as he does, his phone goes off a few times, and when he checks them, he sees messages from taeyong, dejun, and yangyang. he assumes they’re texting to see how things turned out with you and him.

yukhei pockets his phone and continues walking.

after that failed promposal, yukhei distances himself from you for a few days. seeing you will only bring unwarranted frustration, and the last thing he wants is to blame you for something that isn’t your fault. he decides to distract himself by hanging out with his friends. while his friends prove to be a useful distraction, he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss you.

no one knows why you’ve turned down his promposal. everyone who knew about his not-so-secret plan had fully expected you to accept with open arms. even your friends were genuinely shocked. as they chattered among themselves, wondering what could have prompted the rejection (because what secretive plans could you possibly have during prom?), he noticed that only renjun and sungchan remained silent. looking back, perhaps they knew more than they let on, but at the moment, he was too focused on getting answers from your friends to notice.

it’s been two weeks since that incident, and there are only two more weeks until prom. dejun and yangyang had came over for a sleepover, and right now he’s lying upside-down on his bed, listening to dejun rant about how history boy (who he later learns goes by hendery) finally asked him out to prom. yangyang’s sitting beneath him, scrolling through tiktok, unamused.

“it wasn’t anything extravagant. he asked me for a pencil like usual, and who am i to say no?” dejun begins.

yangyang shoots him an incredulous look. “anyone who asks you for a pencil everyday without making an effort to bring their own are just pathetic. didn’t you say he forgot to give you back your nice mechanical pencils for a week?”

he rolls his eyes. “yeah, but he paid me back by buying me a pack of twelve. and they were the nice papermate ones, too! anyways, as i was saying,” he continues, “i gave it to him like normal, and class went by as usual. but when he was returning it to me after class, there was a note attached to it asking me to prom-”

“and you’re swooning over that? i took you for someone who cried over love confessions in the rain, not promposals written on lined paper during history,” yangyang interrupts again. now that yukhei thinks about it, it does sound a little funny. like him, dejun has always liked romantic gestures. he never would’ve thought a written note would be the thing to sweep him off his feet.

he huffs in embarrassment, glaring at the younger. “be quiet. when you have someone to actually swoon over, you’ll understand what i mean.”

yangyang rolls his eyes. “good thing i’ll be single forever.”

now that they’re on the subject of promposals, he makes the mistake of thinking back to two weeks ago. “i’m glad to hear that you’re happy. i hope you’ll have fun with hendery,” he comments.

at this, dejun and yangyang quickly turn to face him. they seem to have remembered the incident, too, evident from the guilty look in their eyes. “i’m sorry, i forgot...” dejun’s voice trails off, and yukhei suddenly wants to erase the pitying look in his eyes.

instead, he waves a dismissive hand. “it’s all good. if it comes down to it, i’ll just take yangyang with me, right?”

yangyang shrugs. “or we can just stay at my place and binge video-games and order pizza.” he pauses to ponder his suggestion before shrugging. now that he doesn’t plan on taking you, there’s no reason to go and spend the night dancing in a stuffy suit.

just then, his phone buzzes. when he glances to read the new notification, he expects everything except a message from you. since that event, you both hadn’t talked to each other very often. while it was probably because you were swamped with school and student council duties, he can’t help but wonder if you were avoiding him like he was with you.

(name) <3: hey! are you busy right now? [06:59 PM]

“who is it?” yangyang asks, sitting up to peek over his shoulder. yukhei doesn’t move his phone away fast enough, because then the younger frowns. “(name) finally texted you after what, weeks of not talking to you?”

he frowns. “in his defense, i was doing the same, too.”

“yeah, but you had a reason to. because you were upset,” dejun corrected. “did he seriously not once question why you suddenly stopped talking to him?”

he rolls his eyes. “you two make it sound more serious than it actually is. plus, he’s been busy with school. it’s not like his world revolves around me.” he pointedly decides to not add the part where it’s the opposite for him.

you: what do you need? :) [07:00 PM]

yangyang snorts. “with a smiley? dude, you’re whipped.”

“shut up.”

(name) <3: i was wondering if you could meet me at the gym at school in an hour? i’m pretty sure i left something by the bleachers, and i don’t really want to go alone;;; [07:04 PM]

yukhei raises a questioning eyebrow. did you seriously not notice how he had been avoiding you? you’ve always been sharp, so this was surprising. dejun, who’s now seated on his opposite side, seems to notice this, too. “wow, he’s really acting like nothing happened. if he knew you were upset with him, he wouldn’t have contacted you in the first place.”

“if he left something in the gym, it’s not a surprise he’d ask me. i have a spare key to the gym, after all.”

“why do you have it? shouldn’t that be mark?”

he shrugs. “he always loses his things, so he told me to hold on to it.”

yangyang nudges his shoulder. “well? what are you going to tell him?”

of course yukhei’s going to go. it’s almost dark, so it’s not safe for anyone to be out by themselves. plus, as disappointed as he is with his botched attempt of a promposal, it’s you. he can never get mad at people for long, much less if it’s you.

you: sure~ do you need a ride there? [07:06 PM]

(name) <3: no, but thanks for the offer ^^ see you then! [07:08 PM]

he turns off his phone and looks up at his friends, who are looking at him with an expectant look. “don’t give me that look. it’ll be quick, i promise.”

yangyang rolls his eyes. “that’s what you said last time, and then you ended up sleeping over at (name)’s house. do you know how awkward it was, telling your mom that you practically ditched us?”

an hour later, yukhei waves farewell to dejun and yangyang, who decided to play video-games in his room to pass time. as he gets into his car and drives back to their school, he wonders what you could’ve possibly forgotten that was so important.

ten minutes later, he parks to a stop and gets out of his car. after locking it, he walks towards the gym, though he sees no signs of you.

you: hey, i just got here. are you here yet? :0 [08:20 PM]

not long after, you reply back.

(name) <3: hey!! sorry, i’ll be right there [08:20 PM]

unsure of what to do to pass time, yukhei leans against the gym doors. out of curiosity, he decides to rattle the handle to see if it’s actually locked. to his shock, the door swings open upon being pushed, leading him to a pitch black room. the alarms installed in his head, the ones from being tricked into a haunted house by his friends, go off in his head, but unsurprisingly, curiosity trumps his fear. thus, mustering all of the courage in him, he shakily turns on the flashlight on his phone and timidly steps into the gymnasium.

it’s dark and empty, like it should be. so why were the doors unlocked, he wonders? the janitor at school is quite meticulous, so he couldn’t have looked over unlocked doors. maybe...

no, this is not a horror movie, he stubbornly thinks to himself. don’t scare yourself like that! as if on cue, a loud thud echoes throughout the gym, and he stills, unable to move a single limb. this is it. oh my god, am i going to die?

from what yukhei can tell, there seems to be two - maybe three - guys, distinctly whispering among themselves by the corner. the alarms from earlier are urging him to bolt out of the gym and tell you he couldn’t make it, but fear takes over, and he’s frozen.

“...sungchan, you idiot! you’re going to give up our position!” a familiar voice hisses.

“it’s not my fault it’s too dark! you know long limbs and the dark don’t mix well together!” another whispers.

wait. now that he can hear them, the voices sound a lot like renjun’s and sungchan’s.

“renjun? sungchan?” yukhei nervously calls out. because as familiar as those voices are, they could very well be impostors that plan on killing him in the middle of the night. “is that you two?”

he can practically hear them freeze; if the lights were on, they’d probably be comically staring at each other with wide eyes. suddenly, a third voice can be heard. “i knew i should’ve asked jeno or jaemin instead,” he quietly grumbles.

he knows that voice all too well.

before he can say another word, the lights suddenly switch on, blinding him. a few seconds after he’s adjusted to the light, he blinks, and sees you standing underneath the basketball hoop, head buried behind a poster board and a bouquet of red tulips with rose petals scattered by your feet. renjun and sungchan are standing by the light switch, awkwardly waving at him. when he turns his attention back to you, his eyes widen at the poster. there are doodles of hearts and basketballs on its borders, but it’s the words in the middle that catches his attention.

will you go to prom with me?

“what... what is all of this?” yukhei asks, dumbfounded.

seeing how you’re flushed with embarrassment, refusing to remove your head from the poster, renjun steps up. “it’s a promposal. what else could this be?”

his eyes wander back to your shrunken frame, and he can see you timidly peeking behind the poster board. “um... surprise?”

still stunned, he slowly walks to you, shoes brushing against the rose petals. “i can tell... but, i thought...?”

knowing what’s to come, you sheepishly smile. “i spent a long time trying to come up with something that you’d like, since i know you like big, romantic gestures. i turned you down because i wanted to be the one who asked you,” you explain, fiddling with the bouquet.

“wait, wait. when you said you had plans that day...?”

“i was lying,” you laugh. “i didn’t expect you to ask me, so i just came up with a lame excuse on the whim. i’m really sorry for upsetting you, but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

now yukhei knows why renjun and sungchan were so quiet the day he asked your friends about your alleged plans on prom. there are still a few questions he has, but he’s relieved to see everything led to this surprise. at least now he doesn’t need to fret about his insecurities.

“how’d you get in here?” he asks, intertwining his fingers with yours.

you hum, relishing this newfound warmth. “i begged the janitor to leave the doors unlocked. i told him you had keys, and he knows that i’m more reliable compared to others,” you answer.

“so all of the times when you said you were busy...”

you laugh, throwing your head back. “that was the one thing i wasn’t lying about. school and the student council really was kicking my ass.” you point your chin towards renjun and sungchan, who wave. “they helped me with some of the preparations, like ordering the flowers and making the poster.”

yukhei nods. “everything makes so much more sense now... but i just have one more question.” you look at him with curious eyes. “why the gym of all places?”

you shoot him an incredulous look. “did you seriously forget?” judging by the confused look he gives you, you can tell he really did. “you remember the game against the jyp team two years ago, before basketball season ended?” he nods. “right before you guys played them, you pointed straight at me and asked me to be your boyfriend if you guys won.”

he flushes at the memory; in a stand jam-packed with spectators, he remembers only having eyes on you, the cute boy from algebra. prior to that game, you two were already acquainted, even going on a few dates here and there. there was an obvious attraction between you two, but no one had officially initiated anything until that day. he remembers you spluttering in embarrassment, having nearly everyone bore their eyes into you, as well as coming scarily close to losing against the opposing team. but alas, he and his team had triumphed, and while they celebrated, you bashfully accepted his offer and spent way too long making out in the back of his car.

he can’t believe he forgot that he had asked you to be his in this exact place two years ago.

he’s pulled out of his head when you clear your throat, brandishing the bouquet of tulips before him. “you never answered my question,” you whisper.

yukhei doesn’t even need to think about his answer. “of course it’s a yes,” he exclaims, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips. you giggle against them, wrapping your arms around his neck. there’s cheering from across the room, but he only sees you. right now, you’re standing before him, suddenly brighter than ever, and he wouldn’t trade this sight for the world, even if it meant having to go through two weeks of unnecessary frustration to get here.

it’s only prom, not a marriage proposal. there isn’t a reason why they should be acting like newlyweds, yet here they are. but even if they’re only third year students in high school, he knows, without a shred of doubt that he’s in love with you. even if they don’t truly grasp the idea of what love really is, the sheer fullness he feels when he’s with you couldn’t possibly be from anything else.

“you know,” he begins, “i asked you on a simple sushi date because i knew you didn’t like big, flashy things. but here you are, pulling this stunt because you know i like them. we’re just a perfect match, aren’t we?” you roll at your eyes at his cockiness, as well as his suggestive eyebrows, but the smile on your face tells him you agree.

yukhei’s peppering your face with kisses, and all you can do is giggle as you take them. “they act like they’re getting married,” he hears sungchan comment from afar.

“they might as well be. god, couples are so gross.”

“you’re one to talk. you and jeno-hyung act like that all of the time.”

“what! sungchan, come on, don’t joke around like that. we don’t.”

“yeah right.”

“but we don’t, right? ...RIGHT?”

#nct #nct u #wayv #superm #kpop #cpop #nct x reader #nct x male reader #wayv x reader #wayv x male reader #superm x reader #superm x male reader #lucas #wong yukhei #lucas x reader #lucas x male reader #renjuseyo : nct #renjuseyo : fics

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obxlife · 4 years ago

Text

Complicated (JJ x Reader)

A/N: I’m back! After like four months of not writing ANYTHING I have finally decided to write something. This idea just popped into my head, honestly, but I think I’ll be taking requests again soon (maybe not, I’m still not sure). Anyways, enjoy!

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word count: 4385

Request: -

Summary: The ups and downs of your relationship with JJ.

Warnings: Underage drinking, mentions of hooking up and maybe some other sexual acts (NO SMUT). Swearing probably. Oh, also, I tried wirting in third person so let me know if it’s as good as second person!

COMPLICATED

Feelings sucked. Just ask Y/N Y/L/N about it.

The empty cup in her hand weighed her arm down as she rested it upon her knee, her chest and body leaning forward closer to the bonfire that burned before her. Her free hand was tracing random figures onto her thigh, trying but failing to distract her mind from what she was witnessing across the beach.

The kegger was in full swing, and normally by now she would have been at least three drinks in, but her mood had turned sour the instant the rim of her first cup touched her lips.

She didn’t want to talk about it - hell, she didn’t even want to think about it - but JJ was right there in front of her line of sight flirting with another girl from the Cut. And to make matters worse, it was the one girl from the Cut which she couldn’t stand. Her childhood best friend, Matilda Garner.

Y/N let out a big sigh, which caught Pope’s attention. He turned away from the girl he had been speaking to and looked at Y/N, noticing her frown and the furrow between her eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, although he already had figured out the answer. All he did was follow Y/N’s unwavering eyes towards their blond friend.

“Nothing,” she tried to lie knowing she would fail. Pope had always had a way of figuring everything out, which explained why he was the only Pogue that knew exactly what was going on between her and JJ.

“Y/N...,” Pope began. He didn’t continue speaking until the girl before him removed her eyes from Matilda’s obvious flirting attempts towards JJ. “You should just tell him.”

“Why the hell would I do that, Pope? It would completely ruin our relationship,” she explained. Y/N felt panic rise within her just at the thought of confessing what she truly felt to JJ.

“Look, even if JJ does not feel the same way you feel about him, it would probably make you feel better.”

“That doesn’t make sense at all, Pope,” Y/N replied moving her eyes to the floor. She pretended to count the grains of sand that were seeping through her toes as Pope continued to explain his thoughts on the topic.

“It does too! I just think it’s unfair for you to be carrying this around. He’s totally using you and like, fine, you were using him at first too, but now you feel stuff and you’re hurting.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I prefer hurting than being without him.”

“Without who?” Kiara’s voice rang behind them. The two teenagers turned around towards the voice, surprised that she wasn’t flirting some Touron up like she normally would. “JJ?”

Y/N groaned. “How does everybody know about me and JJ?”

“That you guys are secretly-not-secretly hooking up?”

The girl groaned again.

“It is kind of obvious though,” Pope explained. “You guys would randomly leave when we were hanging out and then we could hear you guys through the Chateau.”

“What?” Y/N practically screamed. “I thought we were being quiet though.”

“Think again, Y/N,” Kie said while taking a seat right next to her. “So are you finally going to tell him that you like him?”

The girl in question just rolled her eyes before stepping away from the log where she was perched. She looked towards her blond friend-with-benefits one last time before heading towards the keg, where John B was surely too drunk to ask her about JJ and sober enough to distract her.

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

JJ was nowhere to be seen. It was the third time that week that he skipped the Pogue hang out and the person everyone had expected to know where he was at the moment was just as lost as the rest of them.

“But JJ always tells you where he goes in hopes that you’ll call him to hook up later.”

“Well, I don’t know where he is,” Y/N replied. She hadn’t heard from the blond in about two weeks, ever since the kegger where he had been flirting with Matilda Garner. “He stopped texting me a while back.”

“Really?” John B inquired while looking up from his phone. It chimed once again with a message (probably from Sarah), but he ignored it. “That’s weird.”

Y/N’s furrowed eyebrows showed her slight confusion towards the teenage boy, but this only lasted a few seconds before Kiara declared that they should just leave without JJ.

They didn’t arrive back at the Chateau until the very late afternoon, and both Pope and Kiara rushed off (not without saying goodbye, of course) because they had to help their parents with their respective businesses. John B and Y/N trudged towards the front door as they waved to the other two teens.

“I’m so tired,” Y/N exclaimed as she placed her bag onto the table and the cooler she held in her other hand onto the floor. She opened it up and began to take out the empty beer cans and plastic bottles so that she could throw them out in the recycling bin that Kie had bought a couple of months ago. John B leaned down to help her, leaving his phone on the table next to her bag.

“Same,” the boy replied. “I did not think that we were going to be out that long.”

The girl was about to speak out her agreement when the back door suddenly burst open and in came JJ with a dazed smile. He didn’t seem to be in any rush to apologize for having skipped out on the afternoon activity he had promised he would attend.

“Hey, man,” John B greeted while Y/N focused her eyes on the can in her hand. She pretended to read the label while she secretly began to listen in on the two boys’ soon-to-be conversation.

“Hey,” JJ replied almost in a sigh. The toothy grin on his face had not faltered one bit, and Y/N had a feeling she knew exactly what that meant.

Suddenly feeling as if the walls of the fishing shack were closing in on her, the girl grabbed onto her bag and placed it over her shoulder.

“Well, I’m out,” she exclaimed. “Gotta go help my mom out.”

She began to head towards the same door JJ had just entered through a while ago when she was stopped by a hand that wrapped around her arm, just below her elbow.

“Wait, Y/N, I actually wanted to talk to you,” the blond surfer said as if only just realizing she was there. The girl nodded her head and turned to face him, but his eyes darted towards the outside. She knew what that meant, so she turned and exited the small house after saluting John B one last time.

JJ headed straight for the hammocks while Y/N followed suit, wondering what exactly JJ was about to tell her.

“So...,” the boy began. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

The girl rolled her eyes. She wanted to say that it was JJ’s fault that he hadn’t seen her. but instead, she went straight to the point. “What do you want, JJ?”

“Um, so I don’t want you to feel bad or anything because you’re my best friend and you’re really cool,” he rushed, almost as if he had memorized the exact words he was going to say and he was going through them before he would completely forget them.

Y/N ignored the slight pang in her chest she felt at the words ‘best friend’.

“And, trust me, I loved sleeping around with you but we have to stop.”

The girl’s face fell. The blond noticed this.

“It’s not that you’re bad in bed or anything like that. It’s just I really like this girl, I think you know her. Her name’s Matilda and -”

Y/N wasn’t listening anymore. Each word JJ spoke made her feel worse and worse and worse. What was the worst she had ever felt? Now, with JJ confessing his love for her ex best friend. And the worst part about it? She wasn’t even mad at him. He had no clue she was completely in love with him and he had no clue she absolutely loathed Matilda. She was just disappointed in herself. How could she have been so stupid to fall for her best friend?

However, she tried to not let it show on her face. If she were with anybody else, she would not have pulled her act off, but JJ was oblivious and believed everything that was said to him when it came from Y/N.

“That’s fine. I’m really happy for you.”

“Really? That’s great because -”

Once again the girl pretended to listen to his words instead of the sound of her heart breaking. Soon enough, she realized she couldn’t take it anymore, and she interrupted JJ.

“Hey, I’m really tired and I need to go help my mom.”

“Oh, okay. I thought you were staying the night,” he said with a bit of sadness in his eyes. He was almost bursting at the seams with excitement to tell her all about Matilda.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Tomorrow?”

The boy nodded as the girl finally hugged him and turned around. She wiped the tear that slid down her cheek and promised herself that she would be able to build up her armor again for tomorrow.

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

It wasn’t long before Matilda began to hang around the Pogues and Y/N began to do so less and less. They all knew what was wrong with Y/N except for JJ, who would ask about her every once in a while. He never seemed to get a straight answer.

Meanwhile, Y/N hung out with the Pogues individually in places where she knew JJ wouldn’t be. The library, the ice cream shop right on the edge of the Cut, the church’s parking lot, anywhere. No matter how many months had passed since he got together with Matilda, she just wasn’t over him. She began to believe that she never would be over him.

When school began it became obvious to JJ that she was avoiding the Pogues. She was hanging out with a completely different group of kids, and although JJ didn’t know them, he already sort of hated them for stealing his best friend.

Matilda was a good distraction from this problem though, and JJ never actually had enough time to confront Y/N about it, so he didn’t.

However, when he noticed Marcus Lakes hanging around Y/N more and more often, he began to worry.

Y/N didn’t really think of Marcus as more than a friend though. She was still hung up on JJ, and she really hadn’t spent enough time with Marcus to actually begin to feel anything. In fact, her relationship with Marcus was just a series of coincidences that only amounted to them being partners in many school projects together. Y/N truly believed that once they were over, he would leave her alone.

But he didn’t. No, instead he spent even more time with her, and although the girl wasn’t used to this type of attention, she enjoyed it. She found herself entranced within the brunett’s conversations and thrilled when he invited her out for dinner.

Soon enough, they were dating, and Y/N had never been happier. For once in her life, she felt like someone’s first choice. She felt great not being a simple replacement or a filler. She loved being important - even if it wasn’t to the boy she still secretly loved.

In all honesty, she knew she would never fully be over JJ. Like ever. But she did truly like Marcus. Maybe even love. And she spent many nights wondering if that made her a bad person.

She soon concluded that it didn’t. She related her situation to those of adults whose spouses died and they carried on loving both their deceased love and their new living one. The only difference in her case was that JJ wasn’t dead.

After a few months of dating Marcus, Y/N finally built up the courage to hang out with the Pogues again. She felt strong enough to encounter them even if JJ was with them, and besides, Marcus would be there with her.

And so on a cold, winter day, she headed down her dock with her hand entwined with her boyfriend’s before stepping onto John B’s boat. The Pogues all greeted her with hugs as if she had never left, and Y/N understood the underlying message behind them. We get it, they said. You don’t have to say you’re sorry.

The best part of that afternoon was that JJ was there but Y/N soon realized that she wasn’t truly nervous about that. In fact, he had also hugged her as the old friends they had once bee - or maybe still were? Y/N was kind of confused about that. However, she realized that maybe Marcus was actually helping her get over her past love, and she didn’t really mind spending time with the Pogues as she did before.

JJ wasn’t happy though. At all.

For some reason, he was absolutely pissed when he saw Y/N at her dock with Marcus by her side. Why did he have to be there? Marcus wasn’t their friend, Y/N was. And she had no right bringing him. He thought the afternoon was supposed to be a Pogues-only hang out. They had even left Sarah out!

JJ soon realized that the way he was feeling must have been the way the Pogues felt when he brought Matilda along at the start of his relationship. And he realized that they had all sucked the bad feelings up for him and put a smile on their faces. So that was exactly what he did as he greeted Y/N and Marcus.

“Hey, I missed you,” JJ whispered into Y/N’s ear when he hugged her. She giggled and tapped his chest lightly when she pulled back. His heart skipped a beat at that feeling, but he pretended he didn’t feel it.

As she turned away JJ realized that Y/N never said he missed him.

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

In the middle of May, JJ called Y/N near one o’clock in the morning.

“Hello?” she had asked groggily into the phone.

“Y/N,” he sniffled a bit. The girl piqued up once she realized that he had been crying.

“JJ, what’s wrong?”

“Matilda and I had a fight. I think we’re done.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered, but she forced it to settle down. She instead invited the broken-hearted boy to her house and promised he could stay with her that night.

Y/N, and the rest of the Pogues as well, had seen this break up coming. JJ and Matilda had been fighting for weeks on end, sometimes even inside of the Chateau when they (the Pogues) were on the other side of the walls. Y/N tried to stay awake as she waited for JJ to arrive, knocking on her window as he would do when they used to hook up.

God, that seems like so long ago, the girl thought.

Soon enough, the blond surfer was outside her window, tears still running down his face. He let himself be embraced by his best friend as he cried and cried and kept crying until the very early hours of the morning.

“Thanks,” he whispered when he had finally settled down. He wouldn’t confess this to her, but most of his recent fights with Matilda had been about Y/N. About how she was his best friend and how she always seemed to be around. How Matilda would always bad mouth her relentlessly and about how JJ couldn’t stand or understand that (“Y/N’s so nice, what do you mean I can’t hang out with her?”). Secretly, he was glad his relationship was finally over.

“You’re welcome, J,” she whispered back, eyes barely open. JJ felt his heart bounce in his chest at the nickname he hadn’t heard her call him in so long. A smile stretched across his lips as he buried his face into the girl’s pillows in an attempt to keep his grin hidden from her view.

Before Y/N could fall asleep, she reminded herself that she shouldn’t sleep with JJ in the same bed. After all, she had a boyfriend. So, as slowly as she could, she stood up and grabbed a pillow, placing it on the ground. As she lay across her carpet and grabbed the blanket that was on top of her bed, she heard JJ ask, “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping” she sighed as the quilt fell atop of her body and enveloped her in heat.

“On the floor? Why?”

She hummed softly before speaking in a soft grumble. “I have a boyfriend, J.”

The boy felt really lonely all of a sudden. He wanted to be able to cuddle Y/N like they used to do before he was with Matilda, like when he was sad about his father or some other shit. He didn’t know why he felt almost angry at the fact that he couldn’t hold onto his best friend like he used to.

“So no cuddles like old times?” he asked in an attempt to make Y/N feel guilty enough to join him. But she just shook her head. “I have a boyfriend, JJ.”

JJ tried to come up with something else to get her back in the bed. He didn’t even want to have sex with her, he just wanted to be able to hold her.

“So you’re going to sleep on the floor?”

“Would you rather sleep here?”

“No, but it’s your house,” the blonde tried to be as gentleman-ish as possible.

“Then I’m staying here. Besides, you need the bed more than I do. Your night was pretty rough.”

With that, she turned around and fell asleep. JJ tried to do the same but failed.

The following morning, Y/N was up and out of the house before the blond teenager even woke up. When he finally opened his eyes he read the note she left for him on the bedside table. He groaned when he realized she was going to be out with Marcus for the whole day.

Just great. Fucking great.

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

If there even was a God and he could see JJ now, he’d probably be laughing.

The boy was seated on a log, a red solo cup in his hands, as he stared at Y/N across the beach. His other hand was tracing figures on his thigh as his mind was occupied with what he was seeing. Marcus’s hand was wrapped around her waist as they both dancing. He let out a sigh before Pope turned to look at him, an exact mirror of Y/N’s situation from a year ago.

“What’s wrong?” Pope asked although he already knew. He had noticed JJ staring at Y/N more often these past few months after he had broken things off with Matilda.

“Nothing,” the blond surfer lied as he brought the cup in his hand up to his lips.

“JJ...”

“I know, I know,” the boy in questions answered before his friend could even speak what his thoughts were on the matter. “She’s with someone else, I get it.”

Pope hummed as he stared at Y/N as well. He noticed how her smile was the biggest he had ever seen it, and he pondered over telling JJ how she had felt just last year about him.

“You know,” he began to say, still not knowing if it was a good idea to confess what he was going to mention. “She had a thing for you last year. When you guys were hooking up.”

JJ’s eyes widened. “She what? Wait, you know we used to hook up?”

Pope scoffed. “We all knew, JJ. And yeah, she did. That’s why she distanced herself when you got together with Matilda. Well, that and the fact that Matilda used to be her best friend when they were little.”

JJ couldn’t believe it. Everything was making so much sense.

“That makes so much sense.”

Pope just nodded. “Yeah, she was pretty heartbroken about it.”

“Who was heartbroken?” a voice asked from behind them.

The boys turned to find Kiara standing there, with a cup in her hands. She moved to take the spot on JJ’s side that wasn’t occupied by Pope as the dark-skinned boy answered, “Y/N.”

“Last year? Yeah, she was. It’s good she found Marcus though. He makes her happy.”

“I guess,” JJ whispered bitterly.

Kie’s eyes widened when she noticed the blond’s tone of voice. “Don’t tell me you like her now. You do know she was heartbroken about you, right?”

JJ simply rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed scoff. “Yeah, I do now. And karma finally got to me by cursing me with the exact same fate as her.”

His tone of voice was burlesque, and he quickly stood up from the log and headed away from the beach, hoping that he would be able to find John B to distract himself.

Life seemed to have a funny way of working and JJ hated it. What he hated was that everything was just so complicated, and not even his feelings could line up at the same time with the one girl that he finally realized was perfect for him.

He glanced at her once again. Each dance move Y/N executed made him feel worse and worse and worse. What was the worst he had ever felt? Now, with Marcus wrapped around her and him standing far away. And the worst part about it? He wasn’t - he couldn’t - even be mad at her. She had no clue he was completely in love with her. He was just mad at himself. How could he have been so stupid to fall for a girl that was taken?

He did what he did best to forget. He downed the cup of alcohol in his hand.

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

JJ felt like he was in a personal torture chamber except the chamber was the whole island and the torture was Y/N talking about her boyfriend.

By now, the Pogues had started pitying JJ the same way they had pitied Y/N before she got with Marcus, but this time, they didn’t want to say anything because she was apparently extremely happy with her current boyfriend.

So JJ just spent most of his days looking at Y/N from afar and trying to ignore Marcus while pretending everything was fine.

And then, finally, after months of being tortured, it all ended.

Marcus had cheated on Y/N. And with no one else but Matilda.

To say she was utterly pissed was an understatement. And honestly, this had surprised her. She originally thought she was going to be completely devasted, but after the first round of tears that came with the shock of finding them in her own bed, Y/N was fine. Just pissed, but other than that, fine.

And JJ? Oh, he was over the moon. He couldn’t believe that everything had lined up so perfectly in his favor that he was finally going to be able to be with Y/N, the girl f his dreams. But just as fast as his happy feeling came, it disappeared when he realized that Y/N’s strategy for moving on was hooking up with Tourons and then telling him about it.

In between all of the madness that followed the weeks after her break up, Y/N never once stopped to think about what she was doing. She spent three weeks absolutely getting wasted at every single party she attended and leaving them with a new boy in her hand. And later, when she washed up once again, she would head straight over to her blond best friend and tell him everything about it, not noticing the sad eyes with which he would listen.

When school started once again, JJ was trying to ignore her in hopes that he would stop listening to her awful hookup stories. And it was around this time that Y/N realized he was avoiding her and how much she truly missed him.

And so once again she began to pin after JJ without him even realizing it.

As their feelings began to grow once again (because they finally just started hanging around each other without talking about their past sex lives), Pope was the first to notice their heart-shaped eyes and saccharine words.

And thank God he did, because the two Pogues whose hearts belonged to each other were way too naive to notice.

It had been a random Tuesday night when Pope had spilled the beans and sent JJ into a frenzied rush towards Y/N’s house. His frantic pounding on her window pulled her out of her studying as her wide eyes locked with him. She opened the window and let the boy she loved inside, smiling at him in greeting and putting a finger up to her lips.

Before she could actually talk, however, the boy kissed her, taking her by such surprise that she almost bit down on his lip. Luckily, she caught herself before she did so.

And as their lips touched each other and her eyes closed, she swore she could see the entire universe. Every star and every light shined before her while her thin arms wrapped around the back of his neck and cherished the moment she had been craving for since she had fallen in love with JJ once again. Her stomach was doing jumping jacks and burpees just as JJ’s tongue began to dance across her own. When they finally surfaced for air, JJ bit her lip as softly as he could before opening his eyes and staring right back into hers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for like, seven months now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you do it again?”

And so he did. Again and again and again.

That night, after they had undressed and shown each other just how in love they truly were, Y/N sighed in happiness and relief that their relationship would never have to be complicated again.

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

A/N: I was loving this fic but then it just became sort of meh, but I feel like I have to post it because I still like it, you know?

#outerbanks #obx #obx netflix #outer banks #outer banks netflix #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj x you

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peppermint2d · 3 years ago

Text

F#$%ing uh Calm After the Storm cuz the Storm Thing

guys this is 10k words already ripppp

chapter 1, chapter 2

Chapter 3

The emergency lantern was still on, dimly illuminating the room. That's when you spotted the alcohol from last night or perhaps lack thereof. The bottle was completely empty. Luckily it was not that large or both of you would have died from alcohol poisoning. (Drink responsibly!) The terrible hangover symptoms make a lot more sense now, normally you barely suffer from a night out.

You snuggle into the bed as much as your constraints would allow, the warmth and comfort easing your headache. As you move, you feel something crumble on your neck. You use your burnt arm to lightly touch what it was, only to find it to be dried snot. Ew. You were going to need a shower later. 2D lightly snores his head by your shoulder like how it was last night, not that you remembered. A trail of dried snot fell from his nose, and the thought that he sobbed on you tore you up. At least he looked at peace while he slept. With the soft light from the lamp, his eyebags were barely visible. His worry lines disappeared completely. His big, lost eyes were closed. He looked innocent and untroubled, how you imagined him to be were it not for Murdoc. You appreciated the rest of his face too. His button nose twitched while he slept. The clean line of his jaw. His thick eyebrows, surprisingly, do not make him look angry but adorable. It was about time that you admitted, to yourself at least, that you found all of him adorable, not just his eyebrows. His smile, his clumsy movements, his accent, his habit of being so attentive, it was all adorable. You liked adorable. You liked drawing adorable, you liked watching movies with adorable, you liked holding hands with adorable, you liked getting drunk with adorable. Hell, you even liked having hangovers with adorable, so long as you got to wake up captured in adorable's embrace.

Adorable, adorable, adorable.

His whimpers and flinching snapped you out of your trance. He frowned, "No...no..." he whispered, sounding in pain. "Lemme out! I'm in 'ere!" He started to shout and thrash around, messing up the covers, and even hitting you a couple times (only slightly less adorable than normal). None of which helped your hangover.

"2D, wake up. You're having a nightmare." You gently pushed him. That did nothing to change his behaviour. "D!" you said more forcefully. He calms down and then opens his eyes.

He sits up and rubs his eyes. "What's, What's goin on?"

"You were having a nightmare. How are you doing?" It was awkward. You didn't know if he was aware of how you two were sleeping before his nightmare. Would touching him be inappropriate right now? You refrained from doing so.

"From one nightmare to anofer, this 'angover will be the deaf of me." he grumbled.

"At least only one is real." You stand and go over to where he took out the ibuprofen yesterday. You open the drawer and find it filled to the bring with drugs. Thankfully, most of the bottles were empty, but 2D had enough pills here to turn quite a profit. Most had unpronounceable names and were completely foreign to you. Why does he have so many painkillers?

"Bof were real for me. I was relivin me coma." He said nonchalantly. He saw you shuffling through his pills. "Jus bring the lot of 'em ofer, I take make me mornin mix."

You grabbed as many as you could and brought them over. You wanted to ask about his experience, but if it bad enough to give him nightmares, then perhaps it's best left alone. "I guess it was a good thing I woke you up then?"

"It's always good to wake up to yew." He dumped around six pills into his hand and dry swallowed them like a professional. You were concerned about his drug habits and confused by his forwardness.

"Yeah, thanks for letting me crash here."

2D's grin slightly fell as he looked at you. He reached out and touched your neck with his finger, brushing away some of the dried goop on there. "Sorry for cryin on yew last night."

You lightly chuckled and you could still feel his ghosting over your skin. "I thought that might have been you."

"Yew don remember what 'appened?" He pulled his hand away.

"Should I?" Did something important happen last night? You worried that you were forgetting a pivotal moment.

"No, it's fine. I'll take yew to the showers to wash up." He got up and stretched, the shirt rising to expose his stomach, causing you to flush and turn away. You hoped you would remember if you made any advancements in that department. He leaves his outfit from last night on the floor, adding to the piles of clothes already there, as he walks to his closet. "Do yew need somefin to wear after your shower?"

You flush even deeper. You had forgotten about that. "Yes, please. Sorry."

"Don apologize! I 'ave enough for the bof of us." He pulled out a white tee and some loose black shorts. "These are the cleanest clothes I 'ave. I'll throw yours in the wash."

You grab them from him. "Thanks, D."

He leads you to the showers. "I'll be waitin in the kitchen for yew. See if I can grab us some breakfast."

You thank him and step inside. You set the clothes down and lock the door, stripping down now that Murdoc won't accidentally enter. 2D insisted that Murdoc doesn't even shower in the first place, but you still felt apprehensive. You nearly screamed when you turned on the water and it was ice cold. You fiddle with the knobs a bit. Burning hot, freezing cold. You start to understand Murdoc's position better. You finally managed to get it slightly not cold and reached for the soaps, finding 2D's cedarwood and vanilla scent.

It was so intimate. You felt like you were violating his privacy like you were borrowing a piece of his identity, his scent, at least until it wears off. You were secretly thrilled by it, smelling like him. Would he care? Would he notice? Would others notice? And, as Russel had before, suggest something that you desperately wanted? The smell washed over you like it did the first night you were with him. Only two days ago, you wanted nothing more than the interview to be over, to be finished. But now, you had made a great friend, and, you selfishly hope, something more.

After you finished rubbing your neck raw, you step out and put on the clothes 2D gave you. You took off the bandage he wrapped, and the edges of the burn had started to scar. He forgot a towel, so you were soaking wet. You left a trail of droplets as you navigated the halls you have memorized by now.

You were shivering by the time you reached the kitchen, your soaked through clothes doing little to help with the heat. 2D saw you enter and turned slightly red at the sight of you in his clothes. He wouldn't tell you, but it was the first time since Paula that someone else was wearing his clothes. He then noticed that you were shivering. "Yew cold again? Russ managed to get the stove on wifout anyone burnin so I'll bring you a cuppa."

"When you and 2D disappeared halfway through yesterday, Noodle got worried and thought y'all were kidnapped. She'll be glad to see that I was right about what really happened to you." Russel said, sitting on the couch, smirking again.

You blush furiously, getting his implication, and join him on the couch. "Russel! We didn't do anything!" You say in hushed tones, hoping 2D in the other room doesn't pick up on anything.

"Who said I said about you to doing anything?" He raised his eyebrow and grinned. Checkmate. You groaned and shield your blushing face from Russel, causing him to chuckle. "You know, I haven't seen 2D this open since-" He stopped himself.

"Paula?"

He nodded. "I'm surprised he told you about that. Look, you two are very close, hell you're wearing one of his favourite shirts and you smell like him. You seem to bring out a new version of 2D, he isn't even that worried about Murdoc anymore. I like this 2D. But, I gotta warn ya, other people may not. A broken person is easier to control than a happy one." Russel looked at you knowingly. "That being said, if you make him broken again. I will break you. Understood?"

You nod vigorously. "Crystal clear!"

"What are yew talkin about?" 2D comes over with a tray of food and two steaming mugs.

"Weather!" You blurt out as Russel says "Politics!"

2D looked confused as he set the food down. "Right. I brought us some oatmeal and I 'ope yew like peppermint tea."

"What? Come on, why does she get some, but when I want to use just one teabag, you smack it outta my hands!" Russel complained, throwing his hands into the air.

"It was the last one in the box!"

"You and I both know that you keep three boxes in Kong" he grumbled.

"Some pretty special tea then?" You ask.

"I drink it whenefer I need a pick-me-up!"

"Explains why you drink it so much," Russel said.

"To fink I was gonna give yew a cup too!" 2D feigns hurt as Russel vehemently apologizes. 2D eventually concedes and leaves to make a cup.

"See," Russel turns back to you, "two weeks ago he slapped me. Now, I get the tea. Not much has changed here other than you."

You blush. "I really didn't think I was doing anything."

"You help remind him of the outside world. That is doesn't always have to be how it is in Kong. This place can really suck the life out of you. You should stay in contact, even after you leave."

"Are you doing okay, Russel?"

He avoided your gaze. "Not really. But it helps to have a new face here. Somethin to shake things up a little."

You saw 2D approaching again. "Well, then I hope his tea is as good as he promises."

"What are yew talkin about dis time?" 2D said again, as if on repeat.

"Politics." you say as Russel goes "Weather." You look at each other and start laughing.

"We really need to get that down." You insist. 2D sets down Russel's matching mug and sits by you. "Always loved tea. It reminds me of Austen's writing."

"Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love." 2D recites in a posh accent. You all chuckle at his poor imitation of it.

"I didn't know you could read!" Russel jests.

The conversation then shifts towards literature and you learned how well-read your companions are. It goes unspoken that 2D remembered the quote because of Paula's disappointed love.

The impromptu book club breaks up when Noodle and then Murdoc enter the kitchen. Noodle grabs a box of cereal and starts eating from it. "Ohayo!"

"Good morning!" You call back. Russel and 2D both look surprised. "You're telling me that you've been living with someone who exclusively speaks Japanese and you haven't tried to learn any?"

They both grumble. "We... make do." Russel finally manages.

"Hello, pet." Murdoc gently whispers, suddenly appearing by your ear, causing you to yelp. His presence scared off 2D who went to the kitchen to refill the tea. He breathes in. "You smell like the Face Ache." He growled. "I know what you're trying to do. You can't take my singer away from me."

He then stepped away from you and walked to the windows, saying loudly: "Would you look at that, the storm's slowing down."

You got his hint. "Right. Then I best pack my things."

2D looked crestfallen. "What? Yew's leavin already?"

"Yeah, sorry D, but I think I may have overstayed my welcome."

"I'll 'elp yew pack up then." He sighed and led you to where your clothes were.

It was a rather anticlimactic packing up. You kept trying to drop hints ("Your bed was so comfy, I'd love to sleep over again." "Your hair was so soft last night, I'm sure I dreamt it up") which he kept avoiding ("Yeah, it's a nice bed, innit." "Nah, it's normally pretty soft."), so you decided to stop altogether.

When you reached the front door, the rest of the band was waiting. Noodle acted first, giving you a hug "Sayonara!" You wished her farewell in return.

Russel was next and gave you a bear hug. "Don't forget our agreement." He whispered into your ear. "Wouldn't dream of it." You whisper back.

You hold out your hand for Murdoc to shake, but he just scoffs, so you move on to 2D.

"I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss yew more, love!" He gave you a tight squeeze. You two were slow to pull away, but when you did, you caught sight of tears in his eyes that matched your own. He hands you something. "'ere's me number so yew can call."

"This won't be the last you hear from me, D." And with that, you got back into your rusty company car and left Kong Studios, but couldn't leave behind the thought of a blue-haired singer.

#gorillaz #2d gorillaz #2d stuart pot #stuart pot #stuart 2d pot #gorillaz fanfiction #gorillaz fandom #stuart pot x reader #2d x reader #stuart 2d pot x reader #i love russel so much #russel hobbs #murdoc sucks #murdoc is his own warning

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oohfluffy · 4 years ago

Text

TIHM Ch.19 | BBH

Group: EXO

Member: Byun Baekhyun

Theme: Angst | Fluff | Rated M | University!AU | Football!AU

Word Count: 3,310

chapter 19

You stared at him in disbelief.

"Kiss?"

Baekhyun tapped his cheek as if it would answer your incredulous question. You let out a chuckle, finding it silly that he would be this sly. You ignored the heat trying to spread across your cheeks.

"I think Mr. Byun could operate the piano without a kiss though—"

"You don't want to?" He mumbled as you looked at the piano keys, his eyes dimming while watching you tap on the surface. Actually, you already decided not to look at him as you find ways to drop the request— "I'd get it myself then. Excuse me."

"Excuse me?" You mumbled in confusion until—

Without any second wasted after he said that, you felt his warm lips on your cheek. His warmth seemed to transfer so much heat to your cheeks. Your eyes automatically widened at his action, and your whole body felt like it was too tense to move.

He even had the audacity to make a smooch sound as he pulled away from you.

"That would do for now, dear student." Baekhyun hummed happily as he moved closer to you. He enjoyed watching your blinking eyes as he started introducing the piano. "Let's start with the basics then."

You weren't even certain if you understood the things he said. The only thing that was on your mind was the replay of how his lips landed on yours before, and the one that landed on your cheek today.

What the hell.

"No, that's not how your fingers should spread out." Baekhyun huffed as he grabbed your hands before placing them gently on the keys. His slender ones guided your own, feeling the smoothness of your skin and your warmth. "Saejin-ah."

"O-Okay." You unconsciously responded as he looked back at you. You gulped while following his instructions. "I should get familiar with the keys, right? How do I do that? I suck at memorizing." You slightly frowned, now realizing how challenging it is to learn how to play an instrument.

Stupid.

"It will surely take time, but I'm here. I'll help you until you're as good as me." Baekhyun cheekily said with a grin. You chuckled at his incredulous claim, before blushing at his action. His fingers slowly intertwined with yours on top of the piano keys.

His hands are so pretty.

"Are they?" Baekhyun asked, surprising you. Your eyes went up to his, widening as he stared at his hand that was gently caressing yours. "It's not the first time I heard that, but it feels good when it comes from you." He smiled.

"D-Did I..." You inwardly cursed yourself as you cringed at what you directly said. Baekhyun laughed as he stole another kiss on your cheek. "Y-Yah!"

"You're too cute, I can't help it." His eyes crinkled as he gazed at you with a wide smile. "I like you so much."

That caught you off guard.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You blinked at him with blushing cheeks, trying to gain the control in the current situation. You almost said thank god when you heard the bell ringing, signalling the end of the lunch break.

"Ah, I still have a class this afternoon. I've got to go." You stood up quickly, grasping your bag that was on the floor. "You should attend your practice, okay? I heard that the last game before the break will be—"

"Let me drop you off—"

"No." You firmly said as you glared at him. You've been feeling guilty for keeping him away from his friends too much. Junmyeon will surely raise his eyebrows at you when he sees you around. "I'd be looking forward to your game, so do well." You smiled at him.

Baekhyun frowned as he tugged at your hand, pouting as he felt succumbing to your command. He feels so weak under your gaze along with your bright smile. How could he dare resist you?

"Hmm, alright." He whispered, moving closer to you while still sat on the piano bench. You were still standing with your bag on your side as he slid closely next to you. "I'll do my best then. Can't disappoint my princess."

MY PRINCESS? WHY IS THIS GUY SO SHAMELESS?

As if he wanted to prove more of his shamelessness, his arms snaked around your waist while he leaned his head on your stomach. He looks like a child clinging onto his mother. Your mouth gaped at his audacity.

"B-Byun Baekhyun!" You exclaimed with reddening cheeks, hands going on top of his head. Baekhyun just snuggled more onto you, finding your touch comforting rather than dismissive. "Y-Yah, I'll really—"

"I won't see you later, so I want to take some of your scent with me. I'll be more motivated in practice later." He mumbled, slowly peeking up to you with his cute grin. You couldn't even form an appropriate reply as his gaze turned too soft and full of adoration towards you. "I just want to stay like this forever."

His arms aren't restraining. His touch held you with so much gentleness and care that you didn't mind him snuggling against you for a long time. He craved for your warmth and touch.

You craved for his. You craved for him.

"Baekhyun-ah." Your hand slowly swept his grayish hair back, lightly scratching his scalp. He hummed in delight as his eyes fluttered softly, gazing at you. "I—"

"I told you, you should have bought the strawberry one instead!" A loud irritated voice said, breaking the mood between the two of you. You were too slow to comprehend what was happening, but Baekhyun doesn't seem to like how the sudden noise interrupted you.

"Fuck." Baekhyun cursed so loud that the noise coming from the door halted. Your eyes widened as a few students came out behind the piano. They seemed to be coming back from lunch break.

The break is over! I need to run, damn it!

"Ah shit." You cursed short after Baekhyun did, making him look back at you. You took your bag again and quickly tapped his arms that are around you. "I've got to go. Do well later, hmm?" You smiled at him as he slowly moved back. He just nodded, his lips pursed.

You took a swift look at the faces of the students, and got enough of their expressions. Some were plainly surprised, but most were as you expected. You looked away after slightly greeting them.

Most of them were seniors, so they probably recognized me.

You shook the thought away as you went out of the room with a sigh.

As soon as the door closed, the room was filled with silence. Baekhyun's bright expression fell as he felt the bench against his hand. Getting the atmosphere surrounding the senior, the students silently made their actions as quick as possible. They mumbled to themselves as they prepared for their class.

"Didn't you see the lights on earlier?"

Their movements seemed to stop as they heard him speak in a firm voice. They looked at each other in wonder. Baekhyun pressed a low key all of a sudden, making them shudder in surprise.

"Isn't it common courtesy to see if someone was occupying the room before barging in?" He mumbled, eyes dimming as he looked up at them. "Didn't I say so before?"

He chuckled darkly, seeing how they bit their lips in guilt. His lips turned into a fine line as quick as they lifted in a second.

"And I don't really like how you spoke about her in your whispers."

—

"I feel like I haven't seen you for so long, Jin-ah!"

You rolled your eyes at your friend's loud complaint as you entered your apartment. Jiwon was already cooking her midnight snack when you got home from work. You smiled at the smell of ramyeon as you placed your bag down on the couch.

"You've been busy with the cheerleading practices as well, right?" You said while trudging towards the fridge to get a bottle of water. "Whenever I get here, you're already sound asleep. Why the sudden snack?" You chuckled as she frowned at you.

"Speaking of practice, I got to see Baekhyun earlier in the field. You must have let him go today, right? Junmyeon was always all over the place whenever he's not there."

"I don't decide that for him, you know."

"Oh, you do. You have that strong hold of him." Jiwon wiggled her eyebrows as she looked at you with a smirk on her pretty face. "Don't even try to deny it."

It's not like I can stop him from going with me...

You felt yourself shaking your head.

You totally can. You just want him there too.

"Take it easy, Jin-ah." You looked back at Jiwon with a surprised expression, finding her voice more serious than usual. "I don't really want to taint Byun's image in your eyes, but it's really going to be tough to be by his side. I saw how girls around me tried to stay, but..." She shook her head in dismay as she turned off the stove. "...it's scary."

"Are you talking about the jealousy of the other girls? I know they can be a little bit dangerous and bold to hurt me—"

"A little bit?" Jiwon let out a huff as she fully turned her body to you. "Byun Baekhyun may be one of the most sought for men in the campus, but his power is beyond the gates of the university. These girls might be enchanted by his looks and influence, but some are aiming for his power."

Power?

"I only heard he is an heir to their company. Is it that big?" You pursed your lips as you leaned back on the counter. "Why would that be—"

"Aish, you don't get it." Jiwon scratched the back of her head as she took the pot on the counter. "He's the dangerous one, Saejin-ah. The girls can go through such lengths to gain his favor, and that might harm you in the process since you are currently the one he's after. I don't know what he would do if..."

Your gaze fell to your hands as Jiwon trailed off her statement.

Ah... almost forgot who I am in other people's eyes.

Your image was still of a murderer, someone who was responsible for a person's death.

If Baekhyun knew that he's been hanging around someone like that, you wondered what will become of you. Will you still be able to graduate with honors? Live like a normal individual?

Should I plan for an escape route? Where would I go if he does hunt me down?

"No one really knows about Byun Baekhyun, other than his close friends, EXO. He might be showing a façade of a very playful man, but we don't know who he is on the other side." Jiwon shrugged her shoulders as she carefully twirled the noodles around her chopsticks. "Just keep your eyes open. I know you can decide on your own. You're smarter than me."

You almost couldn't feel your lips as you've been placing so much pressure on them through your teeth. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head.

I've been letting my guard down for a long time around him. How can I trust him so much? Stupid.

"I understand your worry, Jiwon-ah. I appreciate it." You said with a forced smile, making her stop chomping on her snack. Of course, she knew it was fake. "But I think it's too late to back out now."

It is.

"D-Don't tell me..." Jiwon gaped as she stood up in shock, eyes widening while she followed your movements. "...you've fallen?"

You let out the longest and deepest sigh that you've ever let out as you sat on the seat across Jiwon. She sat back down in haste as she tapped the table impatiently.

"W-When did this happen?"

"I don't know, Jiwon-ah." You looked at the pot in front of your with a pained look. "I just...forget who I am whenever I'm with him. I forgot that he could be like those people who would laugh and ridicule me behind my back. I forgot that..."

...he might be not like I deemed him to be.

Seeing how your tone lowered, Jiwon felt her heart tightening at the thought of you being sad all over again. You finally found someone to dedicate your heart to after years, and now she's shattering that chance. She grasped onto her chopsticks tighter as she spoke.

"T-There's just a little possibility that he may be better than we think, Saejin-ah. Maybe he's serious about you. I mean, if he truly likes you, wouldn't he accept all of you including your sorrows from the past?"

A little possibility.

"Should I risk it?" You mumbled. "For that little possibility?"

Jiwon bit her lower lip as you looked at her in the eye.

"If ordinary people can't accept me fully, how can someone like him do so?" You let out a pained chuckle as you leaned on your chair. "I think I've been too careless. Jiwon-ah, what should I do?" Your voice stuttered while your eyes filled with tears.

"Is falling for him a mistake?"

With your unanswered question, the night ended in coldness and gloom.

—

As you silently read your book, you were unconsciously letting out lots of sighs that the table beside yours kept on looking back at you in irritation.

The library was quiet as usual, who would dare make a sound with a librarian as strict as the principal, and it was your second haven aside from the music department. It's quite obvious why you chose to be here on your break.

You're still afraid to face him with your feelings all over your face.

"After so many months to realize this, why just now, Lee Saejin?" You grunted as you furiously wrote a note on your book. "You sure you're a dean's lister? You—"

"What did that book do to you, baby?"

"A—"

Before you could shriek, a smooth hand covered your mouth to save you from both the embarrassment and punishment from the librarian. Baekhyun swiftly sat beside your seat, silently giggling at your expression.

You felt yourself getting pale from the current situation.

"B-Baekhyun?" You whispered as you looked around the area. There are a few students hanging around, but none dared to look back. Your gaze went back to him, and found him already looking at your notes with his mischievous eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Didn't see you there."

There. It sounded like it's your common place already. You knew in an instant where 'there' was.

You gripped on your book tighter in tension, while he browsed through your notes. He was speaking loudly, in contrast to your whispering voice.

Doesn't he know we're in the library?

"Your handwriting is pretty, and everything's organized too." Baekhyun hummed as he smiled at your notebook. One would pay to be that lifeless notebook.

"Shouldn't you be eating your lunch? You have practice—"

"What about you? Have you eaten? You have work later too." He smoothly fired back his own questions at you while still gazing at your notes. You're not certain if you prefer him looking at you or at your notes.

Your heart's still beating so fast either way, just with his presence.

"I-I already did." You looked down at your lap, remembering why you're here.

You're supposed to be settling with your feelings alone, Saejin. Why are you keeping him here?

"Baekhyun, you should—"

"I missed you."

His fingers stopped browsing through your notes as he spoke. The mischievous glint in his eyes faded as he glanced at your face. You refrained from looking directly at his eyes, finding it hard to resist.

Why resist more when you've already fallen hard?

"Why do you have such a sullen expression, Saejin-ah? I don't like it." Baekhyun mumbled as he moved his seat closer to yours. You flinched at the sound of the chair scraping against the floor. The librarian would surely kill you both. "Did someone make you sad, hmm?"

You shook your head weakly as his hand gently caressed your cheek.

So weak.

"Tell me." His eyebrows scrunched in worry as he watched your lips part. His heart quivered at the sight of your eyes dimming. He bit his lip, uncertain of what he should say next to make you feel better but you beat him to it.

"I'm fine, Baekhyun-ah." You smiled as you nodded, patting his hand that was on your cheek. "I think you haven't eaten lunch yet. Let's go?" You placed your materials back in your bag, letting Baekhyun bring the thicker books as he insisted.

"Seriously, tell me if something or someone is bothering you, okay?" He pouted as he took your other hand in his. You looked down at your intertwined hands, while Baekhyun spoke. "I won't go easy on them."

Your lips curled into a smile as usual.

You looked up at him and said, "Alright, alright, Mr. Byun. I'll tell you."

Jiwon-ah, that little possibility...

Baekhyun grinned before leaning towards you. You welcomed him this time, making his eyes widen for a moment. You tiptoed a bit to reach him, and placed a swift kiss on his lips.

"W-Woah." He gaped as you chuckled. You tugged him like a puppy on a leash, while he stared at your back in amazement. "A-Amazing. What just happened? D-Did I just feel your lips on mine?"

"Dunno." You shrugged your shoulders with a giggle. Baekhyun blinked his eyes as he watched you smiling in front of him. "You probably daydreamed for a sec."

Before you could even move a step to walk around a corner, your vision blurred towards him. You felt his arms snaking around you as if they've found their prey. Your cheeks blushed as you felt his chest thumping against yours.

"You're the only one allowed to tease me like that, Jin-ah." He whispered as he pulled you closer. "I'm very very—"

With all the courage and face you have at the moment, you grabbed his neck with both hands and pulled his head down. You met with his warm lips as you closed your eyes, feeling him all over you.

...I think I'd give it a go.

Baekhyun's response was instant, as if he has been waiting for this moment all his life. His lips moved on their own as he let you lead him in a battle that he was willing to surrender on. He smiled against your lips as he felt the trembling of your knees. As if teasing you more, his tongue went out to seek for your own.

Holy sh—

Your cheeks are totally on fire as he gripped on your waist tighter while he does things to your mouth. You were running out of breath, but who the hell is complaining?!

Baekhyun must have felt you struggling as he slowly left your lips alone. Or not. His face still hovered over yours, lips pecking your cheeks, chin, and all over your face as you catch your breath.

Oh god. Did I just make out with Byun Baekhyun in broad daylight?! IN THE FREAKIN' HALLWAYS?!

"Oh my..." You let out an incredulous sigh as your eyes went behind Baekhyun. Although his broad shoulders covered most of the sight, you still saw that there were students around. "B-Baek!"

"Hmm." He hummed as he happily nuzzled his nose on your neck. "Hmm."

"G-Get off. Now." You tapped his shoulders where you slung your arms— "Oh shit. I can't believe this."

JIWON, I'M SORRY I WENT OVERBOARD!

"I'm so happy." Baekhyun mumbled on your skin as he gently pecked your neck. You could feel his smile, his skin bumping on your yours.

"So happy."

With your red cheeks, your arms went limp as your gaze softened at his voice. Your hands rubbed on his shoulders as if saying...

I am too.

—

MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!

Tagging my loves: ❤

—

♫ Ch.20

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years ago

Text

EUPHORIA - Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Series Warnings: Slow burn, slow build, feelings, mutual pining, consent is key, praise kink, dirty talk, light d/s undertones and other kinky things, after care, angst, fluff, chapters will be warned individually.

WC: 2481

A/N: All I can say that this fic starts slow, hence the warning of slow build and slow burn. It’s going to get a little kinkier because I’m trying to fill out some kink bingo spaces. Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback. Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Y/N stands in line and feels kind of out of place. No wonder. After the call, she didn’t exactly have a lot of time to change into anything too nice. She also didn’t have a lot of time to do research, but she’s here in her black skinny jeans and a simple blouse. She’s glad she opted for some boots with heels today and not her Chucks. She took a last look in the mirror before leaving her work place, thinking that she might look alright, maybe a little on the pale side but there was just really no fucking time. She stares at the building and the door ahead of her.

The big sign above the door says ‘Euphoria’ in fancy gold lettering.

It’s one of the biggest, in-demand night clubs, at least from what she’s heard. Her colleagues were raving about it. She could neither confirm nor deny, having never been here. She’s not one for nightlife to be honest.

The big bouncers at the entrance kind of scares her and she really hopes that they will let her in. She wants to write a story about the club but they don’t need to know that. She just needs to get in, and have a look around.

There was a woman on the phone earlier, calling up the agency where she works. She was so angry, telling them that she already contacted the police but they waved her off. Y/N’s boss was quick to pass the phone to her, because she wasn’t biased, and the woman said that she would love for Y/N to go investigate and expose the club for the indecency and debauchery that went on behind closed doors. Apparently, the reason for the woman’s anger was that her daughter, barely legal, worked at the club and the woman had a feeling that her daughter’s been doing things that exceed her work as a simple waitress and that the owner of the club pressured her into something the girl can’t get out of.

And now, Y/N’s just really here to see if the allegations are true. She knows that it could just be disappointment, confusion and frustration of not having control over her own daughter anymore which can lead someone to be so drastic about it. But if it is really true, it could mean a big breakthrough in her career as an investigative journalist. Even though Y/N isn’t sure if she’s on the right career path she wanted to take. If she’s honest, she’d rather just write a novel like she had done at the beginning, publishing stories that people rarely bought, but she loved doing it, loved everything about her writing process, loved the feeling of being able to write what was on her mind, to create characters from scratch. To get into the depths of emotions, to write down their feelings.

However, she needed a roof over her head and something warm in her belly. Y/N needed an income, even though it wasn’t as steady as she wanted it to be, but at least it’s something. Especially now, after she had finally detached herself from her abusive ex and built up her own little life. He wasn’t really physically abusive, more the emotional type. Pressured her into things she thought she wanted too — like that damn stupid sex tape — but it turned out that she didn’t. She didn’t want any of the stupid games he played, and she needed many therapy sessions to realize that.

Now, two years after finding herself, she could breathe easy again. She could really enjoy life. She wouldn’t let anything or anyone dictate her emotions and she believed that the saying was really true; What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

She jerks back to reality as the line’s moving ahead again. There are still two more girls in front of her and then it will be her turn.

Her heart thumps fast in her chest.

Of course, the two girls get in without any problem at all. They are barely wearing anything!

Just as Y/N predicted, one of the bouncers stops her. “Excuse me,” He just says, eyeing her up and down.

He doesn’t say anything more though, so she’s kind of wondering if she should talk? Should she? Yeah, she probably should, so she summons up all her courage, “What’s wrong?”

The bouncer, who’s so fucking big, starts to frown and it makes him look even meaner, “I don’t think I can let you in like this.”

“What does this mean like this ?”

“Boots are not really appropriate for our establishment.” He says calmly. She can see that he’s been trained to keep a cool head.

“Well, I’m sorry, I just got out of work and my friend wants to meet me here. She’s probably inside waiting for me already,” She whines, throwing him a pout while she’s at it, using her big puppy eyes too. It usually works and she hopes that it works on this big guy as well, “Please? Make an exception? Just this once? We’re not staying too long. I just don’t want to disappoint her because she just got her heart broken and she needs my company, please?” She pouts some more, for fucking good measure.

“Dammit,” The bouncer groans out the word before placing a hand to his ear. She can see now that he’s wearing an earpiece, “Yeah, sir, sorry to disturb, we have a situation— yes, sir. Okay,”

The bouncer turns his attention back to her but he doesn’t say anything, just jerks his head towards the open door.

Y/N smiles and whispers a thank you in passing.

Euphoria is big, alright. The music is not too loud, which is weird because the music is always way too loud in clubs, but this one is just right. You can still talk to each other comfortably and you don’t need to scream to be heard.

There’s a packed dance floor and a long bar. A drink sounds about right, so she decides to go there first.

“Hey,” The bartender greets her with a bright smile, “I’m Garth, what can I do for you?”

Wow, he’s friendly. Bartenders usually just stare at her and raise their eyebrows, making her feel like she’s wasting their time because she obviously doesn’t look like she’s a heavy drinker, nor does she look like she’s a good tipper.

She smiles, “Are you always so friendly?”

“Your first time here I reckon?” Garth chuckles and is really taking his time. The other people standing around the bar don’t seem to mind waiting a little longer.

“Yeah?” She frowns a little, she doesn’t know why it’s so obvious.

“Friendliness and patience is key. Mr. Winchester wants his guests to feel comfortable. We’re all friends here.” Garth smiles when he looks into the crowd, winking and greeting some patrons as he does so.

“Mr. Winchester?” The name sounds familiar. She’s gone to high school with someone named Winchester.

“Maybe it’s him, how many Winchesters are there, eh?” Garth shrugs, “So, what can I get you?”

“I’m having a martini, please,”

Garth nods at her with a smile and turns around to mix her martini. He’s quick to place the drink in front of her, “On the house, since it’s your first time.” He winks, before he moves to take an order from someone else but he’s quick to be by her side again when he’s free. She strikes up an easy conversation with Garth when another girl walks behind the bar with an order.

The girl looks familiar. It’s the daughter of the woman who called her. The woman had sent her pictures so Y/N would recognize her daughter. The girl is blonde, the make up a little dark around her eyes. She wears a black leather mini skirt and a leather crop top. Her heels are very high.

“Garth, two bottles of Dom Pérignon Vintage Rosé,” She says and then frowns, “We still have two bottles of it, right?”

Garth chuckles, “Hey Claire, yeah, just restocked,” He proceeds to fill a big bucket with ice and calls for a male waiter to come help carry, “VIP, right?”

“Yeah,” She girl smirks, “It’s wild tonight,”

“I can imagine,” Garth smirks.

The girl, Claire, walks off with one of the male waiters, up the stairs and Y/N watches them disappear behind another thick looking door.

So, the VIP room is up the stairs then. How will she fucking get in there?

Y/N returns her attention back to Garth, thinking that if they’re all friends here, she can maybe get Garth to tell her about the VIP room and maybe he can show her? She has to feign interest in becoming a VIP — if it’s easy to become one?

Dammit, she should have done some more research.

She watches Garth work and waits until the man is free to come over and talk when she hears a voice behind her. It’s deep, husky, and it rolls above the music.

“Do you like it here?”

It makes her turn in her seat.

The man who looks at her is tall, broad, has an easy smirk on his face that borders on cocky, his hair a little tousled and he has crinkles around his eyes. Her brows furrow, he looks damn familiar and then the penny drops.

“Oh, I know you! Dean, right?”

She notices that he’s a little taken aback. She doesn’t know if he’s offended that it took her so long or if he’s surprised that she still remembers him at all. To be honest, he’s quite memorable. He sat next to her in English and they had History and Chemistry together. He rarely showed up and if he did, he always stared out of the window or pretended to listen when in fact she knew that he couldn’t care less about being there with his give ‘em hell attitude. She had the feeling that it was all just a big joke to him and he just sat out his time like a criminal who wanted to get school over with, to be released into the world. Surprisingly though, during English, when he sat next to her, it seemed like he really tried to follow the class, tried to get involved. And she remembered that he did really well on his GED.

Y/N never had the feeling that Dean was dumb. On the contrary. They read The Great Gatsby in her English class and Dean had some insightful additions when they discussed it.

He was always the bad boy in high school, though, and she thought that he was chasing after skirts which he probably did, but not as much as he took care of his little brother, Sam. Sometimes, Y/N would be jealous of what the two brothers had. They both came from broken homes, but the difference between her and Dean was that he had someone else to talk to. Someone else to get his mind off his situation at home, while she was stuck with cleaning after her alcoholic mother who she would constantly find passed out and laying in her own filth after a school day.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t like to go home. After class, she’d walk to the playground closest to the school. She would sit under the big tree and do her homework or do some writing until it got dark and she really had to go home. She would get lost in her stories. Stories of happiness, stories of happy families — something she didn’t have. Sometimes, even now, when she’s having a rough day, she’d still go there, sit under the familiar tree and write. It is her happy place.

Her and Dean were never friends at school. He hung out with the popular crowd. They never really talked outside of class, but one time, during English, he asked her if she’s going to prom. She said no. Not because she didn’t want to, more because she didn’t have money for a nice dress and she had to take care of her mother. And besides, nobody would ask her anyway. She asked him in return if he’s going. Dean just shrugs, “Nah, prom is stupid anyway.”

“You still here?” Dean asks when he sees that she has zoned out for a bit. It’s really a bad habit of hers, she knows.

“Yeah, sorry, I—”

“—I’m surprised you still remember my name, Y/N.” He smiles, it’s bright and wide and the crinkles deepens around his eyes. He looks very good and she can see that he had made something out of himself, unlike her.

“Of course I do. You still remember me too, apparently.” She tries to return his smile. It’s really addicting.

“Well, you’re hard to forget,” He says with an easy smile, “It’s your first time here?”

“Why does everybody think that? Do I have ‘ first time’ stamped on my forehead or something?”

He has to chuckle, “No,”

“Actually,” She says, and takes another sip from her martini, “I’d like for you to tell me more about your club. It’s your club, right?” She raises her eyebrows as if she’s not sure.

“Yeah, what do you want to know?” Dean asks, his hands disappearing into his pants pockets.

Y/N grins, “Well, Dean, I’ve heard about your club and your VIP rooms. Is it true?”

He cocks an eyebrow, “Is what true?”

“Well,” She gestures with her hand, and feels a rush of blood to her head, “You know, they say that people can get what they want in there?”

He lowers his face to be level with her, moves in closer, and brushes his nose against the faint hair on the side of her head. It makes all the other hair on her body stand erect, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He whispers and stands up straight with a cocky grin on his face.

She swallows and pulls her eyebrows into a frown at his remark.

Dean Winchester is still as cocky as she remembers him to be. Nothing has changed, has it?

Well, one thing had changed. She’s not the shy little girl anymore, she can stand her ground. If Dean wants to play, he can play. She won’t back out so easily.

Y/N smiles, it widens on her face and she clicks her tongue while she pretends to think about his words. After a while, with another big smile, she says, “I’ll find out,” She winks at him before she hops off her stool and she’s determined to walk to the bouncer up the stairs when Dean grabs at her wrist.

“Come with me,” He says in a deep and stern voice before he begins to walk ahead. She grins because he has taken the bait.

Chapter 2

#euphoria #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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headinthe-fridge · 4 years ago

Text

My Grandfather’s Lawyer (pt. 9)

⁂ – Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader – ⁂

warning: nsfw, swearing

Summary: Your grandfather, Washijo Tanji, disowned your mother when she was pregnant with you and her hatred towards him was passed on to you. Now, your estranged grandfather wants you to leave your life in Tokyo and come live with him in his estate in the Miyagi Prefecture.

You took a day off and a 6-hour trip, intending to give him a piece of your mind before disappearing from their lives forever. You didn’t expect to see an ailing and fragile old man. Your day trip stretched into weeks and soon, you patched things up with your estranged family and warmed up to everyone -except to one: Ushijima Wakatoshi -your grandfather’s lawyer.

He thinks you have ulterior motives in reuniting with your grandfather.

You weren’t suppose to care what he thinks of you. His opinion didn’t matter.

But it did.

AN: First of all, I AM SOOOO SORRY I haven’t updated in a while. Classes started last week I had to focus on my work for a bit. It won’t happen again. I sweaaaar. Thank you all for supporting this fic 🥰🥰 I love y’all!! I promise to bring you more Haikyuu fics!!

You were bored to death today. You've been tossing and turning on your futon and pacing around your room ever since you woke up this morning.

For all their talk of wanting to spend time with you, your cousins and your grandfather are almost always out or busy the whole day, leaving you to yourself in the big ol' Washijo house.

Just like today.

Well, Hoshina's here but she's currently with Kotaro. The two are busy working on some product proposals or something and you wouldn't want to bother them. Especially now that Kotaro (it seems) heeded your advice and is making his move on your cousin. Third-wheeling and cock-blocking wasn't something you wanted to do. So here you are, sighing for the umpteenth time that day.

"Y/n?"

You heard the said cousin call from outside your room. You quickly got up from your position and slid the panel open.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Kotaro and I are gonna grab coffee, wanna come?"

You were about to say yes when a brilliant thought entered your mind. It might ease your boredom for a bit.

"You know what, I have a better idea." You suggested and witnessed how her brow rose in curiosity.

Ten minutes later, the three of you are in the kitchen, the lovebirds are hunched over a laptop on the counter island while you're on the other side, concocting a caffeinated drink whose recipe you've memorized ever since you started working at the cafe back in Tokyo.

"No need, I'm fine." You tried to reason but he's already in front of you, trying to get the two cups from your grasp. "Seriously, I'm fine."

You sprinkled the last cup with cinnamon powder and grabbed all three steaming hot cup of coffee and made your way towards Hoshina and Kotaro. The hot ceramic slightly scalded your fingers but it was something you were used to.

Kotaro glanced up, you were halfway towards them, and saw you.

"Let me help you with that." He offered, concern evident in his face as he stood up.

"At least give the other cup to me."

"You guys alright?" Hoshina asked from the counter.

You were about to reply that everything was fine when your arm shook, because of Kotaro's incessant offer to help you, causing the hot water to spill. You let out a loud yelp as the cup dropped on the ground, breaking into pieces, while the other fell straight towards your feet before bouncing and breaking.

"Shit!" You cursed, the hot liquid burned your skin.

"AHH! I'm sorry!"

"Y/n! What- what happened?" Hoshina rushed to your side and examined your injury. "Kotaro, get the first aid kit!"

He grabbed his hair in panic. "Where?"

"It's in the bathroom next to - ugh! Nevermind." She groaned. "Take care of y/n, I'll get it."

"Guys, it's nothing serious." You tried to explain but your cousin already disappeared while Kotaro already pulled out his handkerchief and wrapped your hand in it. "Relax, Ko, I'm fine."

"Na-uh," He shook his head. "Hoshi told me to take care of you so I'm gonna go take care of you."

You smiled at the guy's indirect devotion to you.

"How sweet." A voice said dryly.

Both your heads turned to the person; your grandfather's lawyer stood by the door to the kitchen, his face passive while his eyes were glued to your and Kotaro's connected hands.

"Wait! You've got it all wrong, it's not how it looks." Kotaro tried to explain but the lawyer already walked out.

"Sorry, y/n. I'll explain to him what happened after I clean this mess."

"No need," You shook your head. "We don't owe him anything. It's not like we're doing anything wrong so I don't understand why he's acting up. again"

Your eyes widened in shock when Kotaro grabbed both your shoulders. He looked at you straight in the eyes and lightly shook you to emphasize each word.

"Ushijima. Wakatoshi. is. jealous. That's why."

Hoshina came back and quickly worked on your slightly injured hand and feet, all while Kotaro narrated what happened. "I agree."

"You lovebirds are ganging up on me now, huh." You teased, refusing to believe what they're telling you.

In the end, the three of you decided to just head out to the nearest cafe to grab coffee. On the way, Hoshina and Kotaro decided to have dinner, something they invited you in but again, you refused to be the third wheel so you just kindly asked them to drop you off after getting your coffee and bid them good night.

As you sat on your futon Kotaro's words kept on replaying in your mind. He's jealous? Was Ushijima really capable of such feeling? It could just be his attitude acting up for all you cared. But a part of you wanted to believe that the lawyer really was jealous.

A faint rap on your sliding door pulled you out of your thoughts. You sluggishly got up and approached the panels.

"Good evening, y/n-san." Saki greeted. You smiled and greeted her back. "Wakatoshi-san asked for you, he's in your grandfather's study." She informed. You mumbled a soft thanks before she went on her way.

Unconsciously, you felt nervous as you trudged the path towards the study room.

What did the lawyer want from you now?

You groaned and composed yourself. It's not like you did a grave sin against him, right?

When you reached the sliding panels of the room, you took a deep breath.

Why are you even acting this way?

"Ushijima-san?" You called tentatively. You heard faint rustling from the inside and seconds later, the panels slid open.

He must've felt that you weren't following so he whipped his head back to your direction.

"You wanted to talk to me?" You asked, still standing outside the room.

Ushijima didn't answer and instead turned his back on you to walk back inside the room.

"Are you just going to stand there?"

You felt your ire rising once again, "I must've missed it when you said 'come in." You replied with full sarcasm.

If he noticed it, he didn't show.

"Come in and sit here." He gestured to the chair in front of the desk.

You stepped inside the study, observing the room since it's your first time inside. Thick books lined the shelves on the right side of the wall while a huge framed picture hung on the other side -a picture of your grandfather's family when your mother and uncles were still children, and your grandmother was still alive. Your gaze lingered on their faces so you didn't notice when Ushijima sat on the chair in front of you.

He cleared his throat to get your attention.

"First is about Bokuto."

"I wanted to talk to you and there are two reasons why." He started abruptly.

It caught you off-guard but you composed yourself in no time. You silently nod your head to urge him to continue.

"What about Kotaro?" You asked with a raised brow. You already had a hunch but asked anyway. You almost wanted to roll your eyes.

"In case you haven't noticed it yet, Hoshina likes him."

"And?"

"They were close before but ever since you entered the picture, it seems Kotaro's attentions are now focused on you, and it seems you feel the same way about him but if you want to have a peaceful relationship with your cousin, stay away from Bokuto. You don't want to hurt her, do you?"

You don't know why but it was if a thousand needles pricked your heart. It wasn't because of what Ushijima said, it was because of how he said it.

You wanted to tell him that Kotaro and Hoshina are already dating but you cannot voice out the words. "Okay," was the only thing you managed to say. "What's the other reason?"

This time, Ushijima raised a brow. "What do you mean 'okay'?" You saw his face contorted in confusion even though it was the first time you did not disagree with him. "And one more thing, aren't you going to explain what I saw earlier?"

"What for? I'm sure you've already drawn your own conclusions, and for your information, I don't care what you think of it. So, is that all?"

You saw Ushijima clench his jaw and you mentally smiled.

Take that!

"Another thing," He continued. "It's about your grandfather. He was disappointed with your decision to go back to Tokyo."

"Ji-ji was disappointed?.... How come? The last we talked, he said he was fine with it." Now you're confused.

"Of course he won't say anything in your presence. He didn't want to hurt you and he knows how stubborn you are so no matter how hard he tries to stop you, you won't listen to him."

You scoffed. "That's not true!"

"It doesn't." He replied nonchalantly. "But you should know by now that I care for your grandfather deeply and I want him to be happy unlike someone here who doesn't care about his feelings."

"Not true? So you mean you won't go back? You will stay here for good?"

You gawked at him, dumbfounded. "Wait a second, why does it matter to you if I stay or not?"

"Are you referring to me?"

"I didn't say it was you, but if the shoe fits."

"Why are you silent? Did I hit home?"

You thought for a moment, perplexed at something. You told your grandfather that you were only going to take care of some unfinished businesses you have back in Tokyo and after that, you were going to stay in Miyagi for good. He was greatly delighted and even offered to send his driver with you but your last request was to let you take care of everything yourself and he was good with it.

So what is Ushijima rattling about now?

"As I said, I don't have anything to explain to you. If what you're saying is true then that's between my grandfather and me. I don't need anybody telling me that even if he's the family lawyer."

With that, you stood up and briskly walked towards the door but if you thought Ushijima would let you go just like that, then you were dead wrong.

You jumped, startled, when he grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him.

"Let me go." You growled.

"What're you gonna do if I don't?"

"I'm going to scream and everyone will know that you're harassing me."

He chuckled darkly. "Go ahead, scream."

That was the warning before his hot lips landed on yours. His kiss was searing and demanding, rendering you immobile. For a second, you forgot how to think but you willed your mind to function again. You kept your lips firmly closed and feigned unaffected by the kiss.

"Open your mouth and kiss me back," Ushijima muttered huskily as his lips trailed down your chin, towards your neck -sucking and biting, marking.

You opened your mouth to protest but the incoherent words came out slurred as the pleasure hit you. You swore you might have moaned. "No.." You said and that was your mistake.

Ushijima was waiting for your lips to open because as soon as you parted them, he swiftly glided his tongue inside.

You knew that your body is starting to betray you, in fact, your hands that used to push him away fare now pressed against his nape, deepening his kiss. The urge to close your eyes and feel the pleasurable sensation overpowered you.

"I want you, y/n. Tell me you want me too." He purred.

You let out another moan as his hand roamed inside your shirt and cupped your breast. You could feel the heat pooling down your middle.

" I'll give you everything better than this so leave Bokuto to Hoshina."

You froze. Your body went rigid and mustering all the willpower you have left, you pushed Ushijima away from you.

"Y/n-"

"So this is what it's all about!" You spat and he stared at you, puzzled. "Don't worry Ushijima-san, I got your message loud and clear but you didn't have to pretend just to get what you want."

"What are you saying?"

"Don't give me that! If you don't what Hoshina to get hurt then I sure as hell also don't. I am her cousin and I don't want to ruin our relationship." That was the lasting thing you said to him before you scurried out of the study. You ignored his persistent calls and dodged his advances. You wanted to get away from him -fast, you don't want him to see the hot tears that formed in your eyes. You don't want him to know that you are hurt. That yes, you do want him, so damn much it hurts.

Even without him telling you that, you don't plan on intervening between Hoshina and Kotaro's budding relationship. Because first of all, you don't like Kotaro that way and even if you did, you're willing to give way for Hoshina.

You wanted to bash your head against the wall for being an idiot, a fool for believing that what Ushijima did was because of something he felt for you.

Didn't Kotaro say that he was jealous?

Taglist: @thegrumpyhag @sushij1ma @valoryess @yakus-yakult @ly-nia @ushi-please @plutoglass @kokofirebangbomb @strawberryy-milkk @melanieacademy @defunkitatedmess @lunarknox @wtoshii @kyomihann @multishippers-trash-blog @monviemoo @sarahvvictoria

Now everything is clear to you. He wasn't jealous, he was mad at you for being close to Kotaro because it will hurt Hoshina.

Part 10

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x you #ushijima x reader #ushijima x y/n

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