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noodlecupcakeswritings · 1 year

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A Second Chance - Chapter 10 (LokiXOC)

After the snap and losing her husband, Raven tries to settle on New Asgard with Thor and Valkyrie. But even after losing Loki twice before this time around doesn’t make it any easier. Until a variant of Loki shows up looking for her. Could this be the second chance they both need?

Warnings: Progress is being made, A new character enters the fic

Chapter 10

Raven

My alarm woke me the next morning, as it did every morning. Daringly, I stayed in bed an extra ten minutes so that I could fully wake up instead of stumbling around my bedroom half asleep. I suppose Loki and I had made some progress yesterday and come to some kind of understanding. Or at least we were on better terms. I didn’t want him to leave, but I also didn’t want him to replace my Loki, nor did I want to replace his Raven. But what was most frustrating was I didn’t know what I wanted. It would feel weird to keep him here as a roommate. And I’m sure all the other Asgardians expected the two of us to get together.

One thing I did know, however, was that I probably needed to take it easier on him. Since he’d been here, we hadn’t really been able to talk about our separate timelines and counterparts. I guess a part of me hadn’t wanted to know. But the more that remained unsaid, the more my curiosity grew. I didn’t know how far through his mourning process he was, and vice versa. It was obvious neither of us had fully let go yet. Perhaps we never would. And maybe that was okay.

Forcing myself out of bed, I changed into clean clothes and exited my bedroom. After finishing my morning routine in the bathroom, I headed for the front door. Loki was already awake in the kitchen and breakfast was on the table. For both of us. It was only cereal and toast. Toast that he surprisingly hadn’t burnt. But I wasn’t hungry, nor did I have much of an appetite. I never did in the morning, nor did I like it when food was forced on me. Even if he saw it as a nice gesture.

“Breakfast?” He asked, hoping I’d join him. “Uhm, I would, but I’m already running a little bit behind for work,” I lied. I noticed the way his shoulders slumped and the flicker of disappointment across his features, now just making me feel worse. To soften the blow, I grabbed the slice of toast from my side of the table. “I’ll take this to go, though. Thank you, Loki.” Carrying the slice with my teeth, I put my shoes and coat on before leaving the cottage.

By the time I reached the docks, I had finished the slice. Valkyrie turned to me with a smile. “How are things with Loki this morning? You two managed to make it through a whole morning with no arguments yet?” She asked. “As a matter of fact, we did but-“ “Of course, there’s a but.” “He made me breakfast.” Valkyrie looked at me in disbelief for a few seconds. “Oh no, he made you breakfast, what a horrible man. Shall I go slit his throat now or after the next nice thing he does for you?” Valkyrie asked me sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes at her, “it’s not that. I just don’t want him and everyone else to think that just because we aren’t arguing that eventually, we’re going to get together as if that’s what’s supposed to happen.” "Who said that?" “Nobody, but it just feels that way.” “Raven, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, you know that. He knows that. If you don’t want a relationship with him, then that’s okay.”

But what if one day I decided that I did want a relationship with him, and he had gotten fed up with waiting or being messed around that he’d already left? I couldn’t expect him to wait around forever for me. “The only thing I’ll say is maybe start going easier on him. I know he’s fucked up but, in a way, you're all he has until Thor gets back,” Valkyrie continued. “I know. And I’m going to try.” “You are both just as stubborn as one another.” “Exactly.”

The sound of hurried footsteps grew closer, and Valkyrie and I turned in that direction. Sigurd was coming towards us, looking a little winded. He was one of the older Asgardians. But he was also one of the kindest and least judgemental, always willing to help and get his hands dirty. “Raven, you're needed at the barn, that cat’s back. Only this time it’s got itself stuck in the rafters,” Sigurd explained. There had been a stray cat stalking the chickens in the barn for a few weeks now, but every time it had been chased away before I had a chance to do anything.

I’d asked Sigurd to keep an eye out for me in case it came back. He knew I had an extra soft spot for cats. “All right, get me some sliced ham or chicken and I’ll meet you at the barn,” I instructed. Of course, I wanted to try to tame the animal and if I couldn’t, I’d find a family who could. Parting ways with Val, I headed in the direction of the barn. The doors were open, and I could see men inside with brooms trying to coax the cat down. Once inside, I could hear the cat yowling, hissing, and spitting at the men. The cat was long-haired and ginger, its fur dirty and messy.

Apparently, it had been caught trying to get into the chicken coop again. The poor thing was just hungry and resorting to its basic instinct. No chickens were hurt, only a few ruffled feathers. Sigurd joined me in the barn ten minutes later with a packet of sliced ham. Grabbing a ladder, I braced it against the rafters and climbed up with the food. The cat backed away, now hissing at me in a warning. Keeping my distance, I sat with a leg on either side of the rafter to keep myself steady before throwing a scrap of ham to the cat.

The cat was hesitant at first, approaching cautiously and sniffing the scrap. It looked back at me to make sure I wasn’t moving before its hunger won out and ate the offering. Smiling, I threw another scrap, closer this time. Again, the cat approached, sniffed, and checked to see if I moved before eating. We kept this routine up before the cat was eating from the palm of my hand. Gently, I stroked across its back, hoping it wouldn’t retaliate violently. Thankfully, I had bribed it enough that it began to purr instead, eagerly accepting my affection.

Getting back on the ladder, I managed to carry the cat with one arm and get back down to the ground. “I’ll take it from here, make sure this one doesn’t bother the chickens again,” I declared. Taking the cat back to the cottage, I ran through a few names to see which one worked best. The cat seemed content with me, probably because I was the first friendly person they’d encountered in a while. Once inside the cottage, I called out to Loki. “We have a new guest in the house.” Loki got up from the couch, smiling softly. He reached out to stroke the cat, who gave a short warning hiss.

I stroked the cat to console it, “hey, it’s all right, he’s friendly.” “Apparently not. It’s all right, we can work on bonding sometime soon.” “He’s gonna need a flea bath and a trip to the vet so they can check him over and make sure he’s okay. I’m hoping he isn’t chipped so we can keep him.” “I don’t think he’ll take too kindly to a flea bath, maybe that’s something the vet can do.” Loki was right, it probably wouldn’t look good if my arms and hands got covered in scratches. I didn’t have a cat carrier, but I did have a box I could make comfortable, and Loki could keep it steady on his lap.

Putting the cat down so he could explore his potential new home, I went and found a box. After adding a few towels for comfort, I coaxed the cat inside with some more ham scraps. “Here, you can feed him in the car. That’s what made him like me,” I said, handing Loki the sliced meat. “Ah, like most men, you found his heart through his stomach,” Loki teased. I laughed shortly, “I suppose I did.” Loki smiled at the sound of my laugh, and I found myself smiling back. I had to admit it was nice not to be arguing or angry with each other for a change.

Returning from the vet, I carried in the new member of the household whilst Loki carried in the supplies we’d brought. After a flea bath and general check-over, the vet told us the cat was in mostly good health, just underweight, which could easily be fixed, and he wasn’t chipped either. Putting the cat carrier down, I opened the door to let our new guest out. Already he looked better, his coat clean, tamed and shiny. “So have you thought of a name yet?” Loki asked. “I know it’s not very creative, but I thought Ginger would work.”

Loki pondered over the name for a few seconds, “Ginger will work fine.” Ginger rubbed himself against my legs before looking up at me and meowing. The meow was clearly a demand to be picked up, which I happily obliged. There was a knock at the door before Val let herself in. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Ginger in my arms. “So that explains where you got to,” she said. “Ginger wasn’t chipped, so they allowed us to take him home,” Loki explained. “A stray. Ravens good at taking those in,” Val replied with a soft smirk.

It was obvious what she was implying, and I shot her a warning look. “Was there something you needed, or were you just checking in on me?” I asked. “Just checking in and I can see you're in capable hands, so I’ll leave you two to it.” Val left the cottage, knowing I’d pull her up on that comment tomorrow. Hopefully, it had gone completely over Loki’s head. Glancing over at him, he hadn’t seemed to be paying much attention as he was putting the cat food away and finding a place for the food and water bowls. Putting Ginger down, I made a start on dinner. The trip to the vet had been longer than anticipated. Loki set the table to be helpful whilst Ginger stayed between my legs, hoping I’d drop something on the floor that he could eat. Once the food was ready, Loki and I sat down to eat.

“Thank you for coming with me today,” I spoke. Loki smiled softly, “you don’t have to thank me for that, of course, I would have gone with you.” “I’m glad you did; I don’t think I would have coped if they’d had to put Ginger down.” “It was nice to do something together with no arguing.” “It was.”

Taglist: @jana-banana-fana, @fictionaljunkie, @kittyofalltrades, @ozymdias

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icharchivist · 4 months

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You raise a good point

Orologia is so sad from so many angles

But at the same time, I kinda hope Danchou and Logia too don't tell the others about the lives they could have had

I feel like saying "I'm sorry, your life could have been perfect and happy, but you suffering trauma and other shortcomings just ended up being more important for the sake of the whole world" would upset people and feel needlessly cruel

"You could have had it all but then the world would have ended" sounds like a cop-out, people could get upset and yell and claim Orologia didn't try hard enough, because they don't know better

So I hope we don't tell Seox, because he's in a good place now and I don't want him to have to think back about his suffering or getting lost in any what-if scenarios

You're welcome to disagree with me, obviously, I just personally don't think anyone would really benefit from this knowledge, y'know

i do agree actually that there is no winning on this one. Even if they manage to rationalize that Orologia tried their best, that the timelines with their happiness would somehow have brought the end of the world, it would be... an incredibly bitter pill to swallow.

I do think some of it were said to some people tho -- considering some of the homescreen lines have like, Lancelot or Narmaya (that comes to mind) comment on their dark alternate universe for instance.

I think it might be easier, in general, to tell them how things could have gone wrong and how much better they have it now --

but telling them "here's how you could have been happy" would be cruel.

and Seox also comments in the homelines that "being raised with MC? i wish that would have been possible..." that implies he might know that it has been a possibility (but also, like, i think it's something he could have imagined without thinking it would absolve him from the massacre. After all in Seeds of Redemption we learn that when he met our father after the massacre, our father talked about us to him, and Seox did dream of being able to stay with that man by staying with his family too, but that never happened. So, even if you tell seox "you were raised with MC" he could think "oh so their father brought me home after the massacre?" -- without having to know that, no, the timeline they're talking about saves him from that entirely.)

but regardless, yeah, i think Seox probably shouldn't know about it too. He is learning to accept what happened, he is still struggling with his relationship with Nehan nowadays, i think it would be too cruel to tell him that it could all have been avoided.

which is why i think Orologia would just look at Seox from afar. Not telling him anything, but looking at him with so much love, and sadness, and guilt. And Seox would not understand what is it about. Seox is already on the shy front too, so it's not like he would reach out to ask. But clearly this newcomer in the crew has been looking at him strange -- and even if Seox manage to gather the courage to ask, they keep dodging his questions.

Seox learns who Orologia is and their power, and he has to believe it means Logia saw something in others timelines about him, that they saw the massacre, perhaps they're judging him for that.

Eventually Logia can only tell him that they'd never judge, that it was a tragedy and they're sad for Seox, is all.

I think Seox could accept that. Even if it would be weird to have Orologia feeling this intensely about it.

But for Orologia...... it's looking at their son in the eyes, trying to hold back tears because they couldn't find a timeline to spare him from those horrors. Now he's doing better, but he had to go through unspeakable horrors, no matter how hard Orologia tried to spare him from it. Hell i suppose Logia was relieved when, in trying to keep Seofon in track by having him create the Eternals, they gave Seox a new home that could actually have him work through his guilt and have people who loves him dearly. At least Logia has to think about that.

but.... still. Logia is looking at their son in the eyes, a son who suffered so much because Logia couldn't be there to love him despite their best efforts... and they can't even hold him in his arms. Because Seox will never know how deep Orologia's love runs. He can't ever know about it. Because else the truth will have to be revealed and nothing will hurt either of them more.

Seox was Orologia's son, and now Orologia has to treat him like a stranger, because revealing it to him would be a hundred time worse.

I do think Seox shouldn't learn the details of the truth.

But it makes the whole thing even more tragic for a guy who's defined by how his parents abused him so hard that he snapped after they drugged him and he killed everyone in their clan, including children like him. The one kid who had spent his life yearning for a family who could love him, closing himself out of the affection of others because of the depth of his sins.... and he'll never know that in front of him, there is a parent who loved him so, so deeply, who tried to spare him this fate.

Seox will never know the depth of the love, because he did not experience it, so he will not be able to process how big Orologia's sacrifice actually was.

Ignorance is best for Seox. But it comes with never telling him he had a parent who loved him.

... But Orologia will always know. And they won't be able to tell their son how sorry they are. They can't hold him and tell him how much they wished things were different.

and that's an awful thing, isn't it?

#im just super emo about Logia and Seox relationship rn #ichareply #ichafantalks gbf #anonymous #ichablogging 9thanni

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jenna-of-eluria · 3 months

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I bet this’ll get easier when I get her back but now it’s just really hard. I got her in either 2005 or 2006. One of the first videos on my fancy flip phone was her looking out the venetian blinds at our old apartment. You could always get her to look at you if you said ‘ni hao’ and it looked so silly when her little head came out and all the blinds went all crazy.

I shouldn’t be this fucked up over losing a pet, especially one who lived so long, but she was my first best buddy in nc, and the only cat I think who really loved me and never forgot me, no matter how long it was between times we saw one another.

When I went to the vet’s office yesterday the whole way there I promised myself I wouldn’t cry in front of my ex because fuck him and his bullshit re: emotions and also he doesn’t get to see me like this anymore it’s weird.

And I was doing fine with that, I really was, until she sniffed my hand and then gave it the biggest, strongest nudge like oh… you’re here! I missed you mommy I’m in so much pain please make it stop!

I started crying then and I really haven’t stopped tbh. The only way I can get anything done is by distracting myself and then when I’m trying to fall asleep or leave space for conversations with my son it’ll creep back in…that nudge of recognition and I’ll be in tears again because she’s gone and I can’t do anything to save her or bring her back.

I sped the whole way there because I knew she was in so much pain and I was furious with my ex for letting her limp around for a whole day before taking her to the vet, but he didn’t know how bad it was he said. He also said she would howl for him every time he left her side on Sunday so you know I think maybe he’s just not very empathetic or smart but that’s a different post.

But when I pulled into the parking lot I had to force myself to turn off the car because I knew they were waiting for me and that when I got out of the car she was going to die. If I stayed in the car she wouldn’t die. It’s the dumbest lizard brain logic but I mean there you go. I only hesitated for a few seconds but you know it of course seems stupid and selfish to me now.

The pain of losing her is not as bad as the pain of losing a parent or a grandparent, but it’s the same pain. And I miss her. I wonder if I’ll outlive the 18/19 years we knew one another. Isn’t that some bullshit? I’ll spend longer not knowing her than I did knowing her. But I guess that’s true for almost every human relationship I’ve had too.

When you see it and you understand just how bad it was…man.

If she was like… a kitten or hell even like five years younger I might have tried to save her, but they were talking about metal plates and surgery and anesthesia which at the best of times is a bit of a chancy thing … at almost 20? And overweight like she was? She would have been lucky to survive the surgery, luckier to wake up okay from the anesthesia, but then she would have been in pain every day of her life, however long that would have been.

I don’t think I’m going to be even a little bit okay until I know she’s back home with me. I never thought I’d be one of those… accumulate your pet’s ashes kind of people…but I guess I am.

When my other cat dies I have to let the people from the study she is a part of have her body so they can study and document the effects of radiation treatment to cure the stomach issues she had and then I’ll get her back in a little box too. She’ll be 14 this year.

Rambling on pet loss. What a fucking bummer.

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queenharumiura · 9 months

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" Who am I to you? "

Send “ Who am I to you? ” to hear my muse describe their relationship with your muse/how they perceive them as a person. ||Accepting|| @parallelroutes

“Ehh--?” There was a chuckle at the tail end of that. “Oh! Are you talking about Byakuran-san when you ask me about who the Visual-Kei ikemen is?” She giggles at the description. She’s a bit curious to know how he’d think about someone describing him that way. She gives the person a reassuring smile, “I understand that it looks weird that we hang out together,” what, with them looking so different? “but he’s not a bad guy. He’s pretty kind, you know? He’s easy to get along with.” She could understand the reservations based off how he looked, however. The face-tattoo probably did him absolutely no favors in a country where tattoos often had the association with the Yakuza.

Well, it wasn’t like the Yakuza had tattoos on their faces, usually. It was mostly seen on their back and necks. She digresses.

It wasn’t like she wasn’t aware of how the elder generations could simply judge people for whatever reason they wanted. “I enjoy his company, because he doesn’t pry or try to enforce anything onto me.” Never trying to enforce ideals onto her, or expectations. She doesn’t have to put up a façade around him either. It was relieving when you thought about it that way.

“It’s a bit complicated maybe, our relationship.” The beginning of their relationship was… well… not a good one. He was trying to take over the Tri-ni-sette and was sacrificing an unimaginable amount of people for his ideals. Then he was killed in battle… and somehow brought back, and here he is. How do you describe that, a nemesis who died, but comes back younger and no longer crazed? “He’s a friend, Haru would say.” The looks the patisserie gave her at that response.

From complicated to, we’re friends? She’s getting strung along again, isn’t she? He makes sure to give her the biggest Choux crème. “He’s good company that listens to me and takes my thoughts seriously, I think. He seems to enjoy hanging out with me, so I’ve been having fun lately.” There was just something fun about making a new friend with someone who was aware of the mafia world, but not really affiliated with the Vongola. It was refreshing.

“If you see him again, please be nice to him. He has a lot going on, and I think it would help him if he could be treated kindly. He looks the way he does, but he’s a good person.” She smiles once she gets the man to agree. She could only imagine the looks he got from people around them in a conservative nation like Japan. It wasn’t much, but if one more person could understand he was nice and treated him like your average person, maybe it would make things easier for him.

#Parallelroutes #Meme answered #Answered ask #Thanks for the ask!#Haru speaks #((I will preface by saying that I wrote this as if someone else is asking her and you're free to have him overhear))#((The prompt was worded to hear how Haru would describe rather than answer- so that's why I did it this way))#((If it were worded she'd answer how she'd describe then I'd have her answering him))

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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Hey 👋

I swear I'm addicted to your writing😁 Thank you for the amazing post❤

Can I request a usually calm reader coming home to Hanni and Wil with n bruise on their cheek and/or blue knuckles from n fight. And when they question reader they find out reader defended their relationship.

Them reacting to reader with cigarette burn scars from childhood or self harm scars.

Sorry if it's specific I had a dream about the first one and I'm insecure about my scars😅 Also if it makes you uncomfy ignore me🤣

Have a wonderful day/night/afternoon💕

Hey anon, sorry it took me a hot minute to get to this. Hope you enjoy!

Gender neutral y/n comes home covered in bruises. Their lovers Hannibal and Will need to know why.

trigger warnings: blood, threats of violence, mention of firearms, stalking

You spit a mouthful of blood into the snow before you even thought about turning the doorknob. Any random passerby would look at you and think you were attempting to rob the place. You couldn't say you disagreed, though: your hood was pulled over your head and you held a tire iron in your singular non-bleeding hand.

You knew it wasn't wise to let the old-money Baltimore socialites catch you in such a compromising position, but you had to double-check your mental map of the house one more time. Hannibal would undoubtedly be cooking; hopefully so in his element that he wouldn't notice you slipping by. Will was the one you had to worry about. When it came to you, he'd become as alert as a German shepherd with protective instincts to match. Where he was in the house was anyone's guess, so you needed to be on guard.

You removed your heavy boots and opted to leave them outside. You then tossed the tire iron behind a nearby planter and slowly, quietly turned the knob. The door creaked as it opened, making you cringe. The sight of neither of your partners immediately running up on you was a bit of a relief; you hadn't been discovered quite yet.

You just needed to make it upstairs so you could barricade yourself in the master bathroom and use that oh-so-rare sliver of privacy to cover up your bruises. Then you could climb down the trellis, grab your shoes and make a proper entrance with hello kisses and whatnot.

"[F/N]?" Hannibal called out before you could even breach the threshold.

With no thought on your mind other than "fuck", you turned your head away from the direction you heard him. "Yeah, I'm home."

"I'd rush to give you a kiss, but I'm a little tied up at the moment." He said, undoubtedly grinning to himself as he trussed a chicken with sturdy cooking wire. "So you'll have to come to me."

"Oh, yeah." You called back. "Let me just get cleaned up first."

"If you insist." He said with a dramatic dip in his voice. "But hurry right back. Dinner is almost ready."

Hurdle one was cleared. Now all you had to do was clear the second, much higher hurdle.

You ascended the stairs, but forgot to skip that one consistently creaky step that always alerted the dogs. A small army of dogs came pouring into the upstairs hallway, blocked only by the baby gate Hannibal had installed as a compromise. Enthusiastic barks filled the foyer as you desperately tried to calm them down from the top step.

"Winston! Max! Harley!" You rattled off as many names as you could remember. "Hush, please!"

"[F/N]?" Will said, turning the corner.

You momentarily considered throwing yourself down the stairs. It would be easier to explain the bruises and you could still soak up that sweet, sweet throuple affection without having to tell a story that even you didn't entirely believe. Common sense, however, kept your feet firmly on the ground.

Will appeared in your line of sight. You pulled the brim of your hat down and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "I, uh- forgot how to open the gate again."

The dogs parted in Will's path and he looked at you with suspicion as he effortlessly opened the gate. "Is everything okay?"

You turned your head to the side. "I'm fine. It's just really cold outside."

"I'm sure those wet clothes aren't helping." Will cocked his head. "We can start by throwing that hoodie in the dryer-"

Before you could pull away, he pushed your hood and your hat off in one fluid motion. He knew what was going on.

"I'm no doctor, but I don’t think busted noses and black eyes are side effects of low body temperature." He said, folding his arms.

You put your hand up, unintentionally revealing the bruises on your knuckles. "You learn something new every day."

You tried to scoot past him, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

"[F/N]--" Will said, a blistering fury beginning to percolate in his chest. "Who did this to you?"

"I ran into a bus stop." You lied, not even trying to make it sound believable.

"That bus wouldn't have happened to be headed to Dacula, would it?"

Your silence spoke louder than any excuse you could think of.

Will sighed. "Right. I think I know what happened."

"Will, I-" you protested.

"Save it for dinner." He scolded. "I'm sure Hannibal would love to hear this."

You'd been found out it was much worse than anticipated. You felt like you were on trial, which, given the circumstances, you could have actually been on trial in a real court of law on the charge of aggravated assault. However, that didn’t make you feel any better.

Hannibal demanded an explanation and couldn't wait until dinner. He was willing to let one of his culinary masterpieces burn in the oven, knowing of course that a much rarer delicacy was in the cards once you gave him a name.

He brushed his finger over an open cut under your eye. A light click of his tongue reached your ears as he examined your face.

"Give us a name, love." Hannibal probed, holding your jaw between his fingers and following the trail of bruises down your neck. "Who did this to you?"

"It's not a big deal, really." You assured him, squirming against his grip. "I started it."

"Now that, I find hard to believe." Hannibal contested. "You're not a preemptive strikes kind of person."

"Nor would you go all the way to Dacula to throw a few punches." Will added, approaching you with an ice pack.

"Okay, so maybe I finished it." You corrected.

Hannibal smiled proudly to himself. "That's more like it."

"What exactly did you finish?" Will asked, gently placing the ice against your bruised knuckles.

You sighed. You mentioned Dacula once and they already knew the answer. They were just waiting to hear you say it.

"My ex-boyfriend, Sidney." You leaned back on your one good wrist. "He was a being a completely irredeemable shit, as usual-"

"Details, darling." Hannibal said in too singsongy of a voice than was really appropriate while wrapping your hand in gauze.

"Acting entitled, talking like I belonged to him-"

"You have no idea how little that narrows it down." Will shook his head.

You were compelled to agree, but couldn't bring yourself to admit that and the fact that you ever dated Sidney in the first place. "Right."

"That isn't out of character for him." Hannibal said.

"And certainly not enough to make you willingly drive back out to cousinfuck nowhere to beat him up." Will finished.

"I didn't go out there with the intent to beat him up!" You contested. "He said that if I could meet him for coffee he'd never speak to me again. I know it's a lot of gas money, but I really was gonna hold him to the whole 'never speaking to me again' bit."

"So what happened?" Will asked, growing impatient.

You looked at the ground, embarrassment stopping the words at the tip of your tongue.

"Somehow, he caught a whiff of our... arrangement." You tightened your hands into frustrated fists. "And he made some really shitty comments about... you."

Hannibal and Will exchanged looks. They let the silence linger, urging you to fill it.

"He went into obscene detail about how mmf threesomes are his favorite category of porn," you tried not to gag as you recalled the disgusting details. "And then said if I 'let him watch', he wouldn't tell the local baptist church that I was a whore-"

"The man is a pig." Hannibal said, matter-of-factually.

"I got up to leave." You continued. "Obviously. Then he said he knew where you lived. Announced it to the whole diner. Started to go through his list of semiautomatic weapons. So to make sure he knew I meant business-"

"You threw the first punch." Hannibal finished the thought for you.

You nodded. "Naturally."

Will smiled to the floor and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I would have loved to see that."

"As much as it pains me to say," Hannibal began, resignedly agreeing. "It's only fair that you stand up for us the way we stand up for you. From time to time."

Will brought your bruised knuckles to his lips. "Though we desperately need to teach you how to dodge. Because the next time you come home covered in scratches, someone will pay."

You took both of their hands. "I should get beat up more often."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal nbc #will graham x reader #will graham #will graham x you #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x you #poly hannigram #hannigram #hannigram x reader #anon request #anon ask

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zafirosreverie · 3 years

Note

i have an idea wednesday addams meeting reader who has a melanie martinez, maybe fran bow aesthetic, or this tiktok account's aesthetic https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSedsmvSe/ (because pastels), and reader's family also has that type of aesthetic, addams and reader's family meet? i don't know if you take asks or requests but i just had an idea and i wanted to share it with the class

this is what I call a magnificent contribution !! Thanks for sharing it with the class, you have an A +

Also, thank you so much for letting me write for another fandom!! I hope you like this little fic <3

Devil likes pastel color (Platonic Wednesday x Fem!Reader)

“Hallo!” you smiled as you approached the black haired girl next to you.

In the month you have been there, a lot of classmates have approached you, wanting to be your friends and making you feel welcomed, because a new girl in the school was always a rare but awesome thing, and you were so nice and lovely, the kind of person everyone would want around.

Everyone, except Wednesday Addams. The girl wasn’t rude to you, she just didn’t talk or even see in your direction, which you respected. You find her fascinating, but after the first attempt to befriend her, where she commented on your “utterly horrible and eye burning clothes”, you stopped trying. You laughed it off, of course, but never bothered her again.

Too bad the teacher didn’t care about Wednesday’s wishes at all and paired you with her for the next project. Well, you could always try to make this a pleasant experience for both of you. Which would be easier if the girl would even look at you.

“How are you?” you tried again

She remained quiet. You started to feel a little awkward, but your parents taught you to be patient with people.

“So...what do you think we should do for our project?” you asked and smiled again.

“We can see how long it takes a wolf to eat a small human” she finally answered.

You were making progress!! Good! And this was something you actually knew about, so it was amazing! Too bad you didn’t hear the sarcasm in her voice, nor caught the hint about you being the small human. You totally missed her threat.

“Well, it depends. Wolves usually eat 3.3 pounds of meat per day, 22 if they’re starving. So, I’m guessing between 6 and 43 days, depending how angry is it” you smiled.

Wednesday frowned and finally looked at you. You had listened about how she could make anyone fear her with only looking at them, but to you, it was a victory. If you were honest, she was the most interesting person you’ve ever met.

“How much do you weigh?” she asked and raised an eyebrow.

This time, you understood the meaning and couldn’t help but giggle. She was so cute.

“Enough to feed a growth wolf, that’s for sure” you said “But I doubt Akela would allow any other wolf near me”

The other girl blinked and her whole posture changed. She even turned so she was fully facing you this time. Second point to you!

“You have a wolf?” she asked

“Oh yes, he’s such a good boy, always protecting us from people who get too close. I think he still has a hand on the basement. Not sure whom it belonged to. But don’t worry, he’s sweet with the people we like” you finished with a huge smile.

By the way Wednesday’s face changed from annoyed to interested, you knew you had her full attention now.

_________________

“Can I help you?”

You smiled when a lovely tall lady in a black dress greeted you. It had been a month since that project you and Wednesday did and you two became good friends since then. Everyone at school thought it was odd, because you two were total opposites, but for you it only made your friendship even better! Besides, your pastel dresses always looked better with Wednesday’s black ones, you made each other stand out.

Yet, this was the first time you came to her house. At first, she said she’d prefer to work at your place because that way her younger brother wouldn’t bother you (even if the idea of Akela attacking Pugsley was tempting for her), but then it was just that she enjoyed the way you and your family treated her,

Don’t get it wrong, deep inside she loved her strange family, but being the older (and better) child meant her parents would usually expect too much from her, and you were a single child, which meant you and your parents would give her all your attention. Besides, she discovered your parents were amazing.

They shared your same pastel aesthetic, but also your creepiness. You weren’t cruel, far from that, in fact, she’d often find your manners and sweet talk too cloying for her taste, but there were times when a darker side of you would come out, usually if you were in trouble or danger, and those, those were her favorite moments. When you’d get all psycho and murder. She found it kind of cute.

There was only so much her parents could teach her, but your parents were still a box of surprises and she loved learning new ways of using knives, chains, poison or raising spiders. But after a month of getting to know you all, she decided it was time for you to meet her family too.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Addams” your mother said, with a big smile “We apologize for any inconvenience, we’re just here to leave our little princess”

The woman frowned but before she could say anything, a man with a funny mustache and a cigarette approached her from behind.

“And who are these people with a horrendous sense of fashion, cara mia?” he asked.

Your parents laughed and this time your father presented you all in a better way.

“We’re the Y/L/Ns. Our little princess here was invited to your lovely house” your father said.

“Mother, father” a voice came behind the Addams “I invited her”

You smiled when Wednesday approached you all with a small smirk. She never smiled the way you or your parents did, but her smirk was still a nice touch. It fit her.

“This is Y/N, and her parents, Y/F/N and Y/M/N” the girl said.

This time, the Addams seemed to understand and opened their eyes in realisation.

“Oh, so this is the girl you kept telling us about, dear Wednesday” the woman said “Our apologies, we weren’t expecting you to have such...tastes in clothes” she said.

You and Wednesday looked at each other and smirked. You two knew what her parents would think about your family’s aesthetic, it was the same the black-haired girl thought at first, but you had the hope that, just like their daughter, the Addams could see past the pastel color and build a good relationship with them.

You knew your parents would at least try.

___________________

“I think nuts could cover the amoniac” you casually said “Mom could help us bake some cookies”

Wednesday didn’t look up from her book, but you could see her rolling her eyes and smirking.

You were right, your parents and the Addams quickly got along despite the initial suspicion from the goth family. And now it was common for you to spend days and nights at the Addams mansion or them visiting your place (although this was less common, since they didn’t like to go out too much). It was like having a second family! But despite getting to know them all now, Wednesday was still yours and your parents’ favorite.

That’s why you were a little mad about the current topic.

It wasn’t rare for people to call Wednesday a freak or other names, but it never bothered her. She knew who she was and didn’t let anyone unimportant affect her. But you were another story. You hated people who judged others only because of their looks, it didn’t matter if they called you pretty or wanted to be your friends only because you seemed nice, if they dared to disrespect Wednesday, they were automatically on your black list.

But even then, it was a thing to call other people nasty names (which was still wrong, but you could ignore it), and another too different was to try to punch her (thank god she was strong and stopped their hand before it could hit her face).

You tried to fight them, but Wednesday just picked you up (again, she was really strong) and pulled you out of there. Needless to say, it surprised everyone at school. Nobody thought that sweet Y/N could be so scary or that creepy Wednesday would be the calmed one.

If only they knew it was like that 60% of the time.

“Ok, ok, what about a tea party at my house and I accidentally let Akela out?” you asked and smiled when the wolf under Wednesday’s feet looked at you, ready to follow orders.

“We would have to clean the blood from the carpets” she said “besides, that kind of junk food could give him indigestion” she finished, caresing Akela’s head.

“Fiiiiiiine” you pouted “but I still think the cookie are a good idea”

The black-haired girl didn’t say anything but the smirk was all you needed. Both of you sat down in silence, enjoying the books on your hands, when something hit your window. It wasn’t a mystery who it could be, especially when other water balloons followed the first one.

“Hey freak! Come show your face!” someone outside yelled.

You looked at Wednesday, but she only rolled her eyes and shrugged. Akela was alert and you could sense the change in the mood. He knew something was wrong, he could feel your anger.

“Seems like they fell for the beauty and the beast explanation, uh?” she said and you frowned.

You had heard the rumors about her being some kind of witch who put a spell on you to control you, given that there was no other explanation as to why you would like to be friends with her. It was stupid and made you mad that they think you couldn’t make a choice for yourself or that they seemed to think about you as a fragil doll. Were they really stupid enough to believe it?

“Well, let’s show them who the beast really is” you smirked as you walked out, with Akela following you.

#x reader #reader insert #imagine #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #nicole fugere #the addams family #addams family imagine #addams family #request #not my gifs #gifs found in google

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wincore · 3 years

Text

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan.

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly.

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that.

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you.

You shake it off.

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer.

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks.

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates.

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face.

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue.

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile.

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes.

“Sungchan?!”

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!”

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face.

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity.

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.”

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns.

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on.

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention.

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys.

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes.

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling.

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love.

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile.

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation.

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on.

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones.

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts.

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you.

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm.

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes.

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls.

"Do you have any bandaids?"

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.”

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you.

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind.

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers.

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans.

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him.

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade.

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan.

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead.

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly.

“Hm?”

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that.

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field.

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding.

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave.

“You should,” he responds, honest.

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile.

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties.

Only one more match, you remind yourself.

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this.

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all.

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile.

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty.

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you.

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading.

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care.

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk.

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild.

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct x reader #sungchan x reader #nct fluff #sungchan fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios #nct x you #sungchan x you #nct sungchan #jung sungchan #nct oneshot #sungchan oneshot #nct fanfic #sungchan fanfic #moonwrites

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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

Text

jealous

Word Count: 3,130

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some insecurity angst (only a little though) but all fluff otherwise!

A/N: thank you for the help and love you two give me @satan-ruler-of-hells @thisnoodlewritesao3. Was having a shitty day so I queued this fic up to hopefully bring some smiles to people’s faces <3

Haikyuu Masterlist

Ushijima would never understand why people flocked to him the way they did during tournaments. No matter where the team went, there were people begging for answers to their invasive questions, people screaming in excitement as soon as they saw them, but why?

“You’re a big strong attractive dude, Ushi, I dunno what to tell ya. Not to mention, you’re the ace of a powerhouse school,” Tendō laughed when Ushijima asked him why. But it wasn’t like any of these girls knew him so why were they always asking for pictures?

But despite not really understanding, Ushijima often complied with the request for photos, standing there as stoic as ever, not even bothering to crack a smile. He didn’t want to make anyone upset and he felt like just going along with it might actually be easier than trying to run away.

But today, Tendō watched as one girl got prepared for a selfie, and surprised Ushijima with a kiss on the cheek for the photo. She squealed in excitement, thanking him even as she ran away. The two Shiratorizawa boys stood there in confusion, Tendō’s eyes looking around to make sure you weren’t around to experience that.

Ushijima stood there for a moment longer, his hand going up to his cheek and touching the place she had kissed him. Had that really just happened? How odd. Why would someone he had never even met before do something like that?

The thought left his mind as soon as it had entered, turning around to follow Tendō onto the court. But he noticed how his friend’s eyes seemed to glance around the hallway, as if looking for someone, then fall on him questioningly.

“What is it?” Ushijima asked, watching his friend’s eyes carefully.

Tendō just laughed and shook his head, “I’m just glad poor Y/N didn’t have to watch that. Can’t say I’d envy her.”

Ushijima’s brow tensed a little hearing those words, trying to comprehend Tendō’s words and tone, “I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you’re constantly followed around by girls and you must see some of them all the time at every one of our tournaments. But you and Y/N haven’t had a lot of time to see each other now that practice is every day right? Plus... what girl wants to see her boyfriend get kissed by some random fangirl?” Tendō explained, holding his hands behind his head as they walked into the stadium courts.

Ushijima frowned a bit, still not fully comprehending. You knew that he was busy with volleyball and you knew he loved you, didn’t you? So why did it matter what some insignificant people thought? Or what some random person did for that matter? Sure, it was an uncomfortable kiss and was awkward but would it matter? He didn’t even know the girl.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the girl had posted the pic onto social media. Swarms of jealous students and gossip news reporters started to share the picture and repost it with the question “Is this Ushijima’s girlfriend?”

It didn’t take long for you to be tagged. One of your friend had sent the photo with a questioning keyboard smash, wondering if you had known.

You hadn’t.

You had been up in the stands when it all took place - you didn’t see Ushijima often before a game since he was usually stretching while you got there early to get good seats. You had been sitting up in the stands, talking to another friend of yours and some of the other players’ friends and family. But when you saw the picture, it was like everything around you started to move in slow motion.

Your heart felt like it was moving up your throat, your chest tightening. Who was this girl? Your fingers instantly clicked onto her profile, glancing at all of her public photos. She was gorgeous, thin, smart by the looks of it too. She even had a picture or her playing volleyball.

Something inside of you asked the question, “Would Ushijima be better off with someone like her?”

He wasn’t following her on social media, so he didn’t know who she was. It wasn’t uncommon for people to post their photos with Ushijima, but no fans had ever been so bold to kiss him for a picture before.

You couldn’t even remember the rest of the game. Your stomach was churning so much you thought you were going to be sick.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” Your friend asked when they realized you hadn’t cheered as loud as you normally did during the games. You quickly plastered on a smile, nodding quickly.

“I’ve got to head out early! Tell the boys I said congratulations!” You asked them as the game came to an end, your feet quickly moving out of the stadium before the crowds left.

Ushijima could’ve sworn you had been up in the stands and you always came to his games. So where were you? Why hadn’t you come down yet? He stood in the hallway, watching as crowds of people left. Loads of them congratulated him or tried to strike up a conversation with him. But not a single one of them was you.

“Oh Ushijima! Y/N asked me to say congratulations!” Someone smiled up at him giving a thumbs up. He recognized them, they were friends with you weren’t they? So you had been here...

Ushijima’s forehead creased ever so slightly, “Where is she?”

“She said she had to go for some reason! She didn’t look so good when she left to be honest. Maybe she was feeling sick?” Your friend shrugged and gave another wave before rushing off.

Ushijima glanced at his phone, finding no notifications from you. If you had been feeling sick, why wouldn’t you tell him?

“You alright there, Ushi?” Tendō called, slapping his shoulder playfully. “We won, it’s time to go! What’re you standing around for?” His head spun around, looking for the missing part of their trio. “Where’s Y/N? It’s almost time for our celebratory dinner!”

“She left,” was all he said with a frown.

Tendō sucked in some air nervously, glancing at his own phone and all the notifications he had gotten over the recent scandal photo. “Think it might have to do with this?” He asked, showing the post to his friend. “Didn’t you get tagged in it too? Seems like the whole team was.”

“I don’t have notifications for those apps,” Ushijima shrugged. “I get tagged in a lot of things and it gets annoying.”

Tendō pouted at this, realizing that’s why Ushijima never responded to the hilarious things he would send him.

Ushijima was still frowning, wondering why everyone seemed so concerned with his dating life. He scrolled through the notifications that Tendō had on his phone, news reporters questioning Ushijima’s relationship status, people from their school mentioning Y/N and curiously wondering if they had broken up.

All of this over some random girl? He glanced at her post a little closer, noting the caption read, “Ushi” with a little heart emoji next to it. He hadn’t been happy at all that some girl had decided to plant a kiss on his cheek but he never had the chance to tell her that before she ran off.

“Why would Y/N leave over that?” Ushijima finally spoke, glancing again at his own phone to see if maybe you had texted him in the last few minutes.

Tendō sighed and raised an eyebrow to him, “Ushijima, some people get jealous.”

Jealous. The word echoed in Ushijima’s mind as he tried to consider the possibility that you were jealous over someone whose name he didn’t even know.

“Wouldn’t you be jealous if you saw someone posting a similar photo of Y/N?” Tendō asked with a tilt to his head, curiously watching his friend’s expression.

Ushijima let the thought cross over his mind while the two of them walked to where the rest of the team had gathered. What if some dude had posted a picture of Y/N, kissed her cheek, and everyone had assumed they were together? He frowned and shook his head of the awful thought, now understanding that maybe jealousy was that pit in his stomach he was currently experiencing.

Although Coach Washijo growled a little in response, Ushijima insisted that he would not be joining the team for a celebratory dinner. When Goshiki asked Tendō where Ushijima was going, he’d just shrug and smile saying, “He’s off to be a good boyfriend.”

It must’ve been strange, seeing this tall man running around town, looking confused and frustrated. Numerous people around him glanced back at him, watching him with questioning eyes as he passed but Ushijima didn’t even noticed. He needed to make sure that you were okay.

You weren’t really sure why you left so quickly after the game was over. You knew the longer you waited to have this conversation with Ushijima, the more awkward you’d feel and the more upset that he’d be that you hadn’t brought it up sooner.

It’s not like you were mad at him or anything - how could you be? It wasn’t like he was the one kissing her, or that he had known she was going to do that - you knew it wasn’t the latter since Ushijima wasn’t all that big on PDA anyways so there was no way he’d be okay with it with some random girl... you hoped at least.

So if you weren’t mad, why did you run? You frowned as you tried to think of a good excuse, trying to tear apart the reasons for your behaviour. But all you could really think of is how insecure you had felt, seeing that picture. That girl was everything and you were... well what even were you?

Ushijima didn’t know how to beat around the bush - he didn’t know anything but being blunt and honest. So he had to be with you for a reason right? If he wanted to break up with you, he would’ve... right?

You groaned quietly, stuffing your face into the pillow you were holding into your lap. You needed to text him - he was probably wondering why you didn’t stay till after the game. But he hadn’t even texted you... hadn’t called... maybe he hadn’t noticed? You glanced at your phone one more time, as if waiting to see a notification you had missed or a text that you hadn’t heard the alert for.

Maybe you should just call him. Maybe if he hadn’t noticed, you both could just go out for food or have a nice night in and you could forget you ever saw that photo. You nodded slightly at your plan, moving your finger to call him.

But a knock on your door distracted you. You looked up at the sound, glancing between that and your phone.

You dragged yourself out of bed, starting to type out a very nonchalant casual text to Ushijima as you made your way downstairs. Though it was very obvious once you opened the door that the text wasn’t needed.

“Y/N.”

What was it about the way he said your name that sent chills down your spine?

You bit down on your lip nervously, realizing that all that time spent coming up with excuses was useless because here he was right in front of you, panting slightly, and you were drawing a blank.

“H-Hi, Ushijima,” you hesitated slightly, both standing there awkwardly until he nodded towards the inside of your house.

“Can I come in?” He asked softly, his voice more gentle than usual even with his heavy breathing.

You nodded slowly and let him in, watching as he tucked his shoes away and stood in front of you as if waiting for you to say something.

“So... congratulations on your win,” you offered after moments of silence.

His eyes just watched you, as if checking to make sure you were okay, “Your friend said you had to leave. They also mentioned you weren’t feeling well. Is that why you didn’t stay?”

You stuttered out some sort of syllables that were no where near to being words as your boyfriend placed his hand on your forehead, cupping your cheeks in his other hand, “You don’t feel feverish but you are a bit warm,” he stated quietly. “Would you like me to make you some soup?”

You shook your head quickly, stepping back from him slightly, “I’m okay, Ushijima, promise. My... stomach just didn’t feel right.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he watched you, “Your stomach?”

You nodded, staring at your feet. You should just be honest, shouldn’t you? Ushijima was always honest with you. But what if you were honest and he came to the same realization - that he could do better than you?

“So this has nothing to do with that Instagram post?” Ushijima’s voice was stiffer this time around, almost... awkward? He shifted on his feet, trying to get you to look at him but when you wouldn’t, he just gently put his fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his. “Please talk to me, darling.”

It was as if you had been hiding tears this whole time and didn’t even realize it. But the softness in his voice and his eyes, the way he touched you, just made your eyes start to tear up, “It’s stupid,” you admitted after a moment and Ushijima’s thumb wiped away a tear that escaped you. “I know you don’t even know her.”

He nodded in response, stepping a bit closer to you now, “I didn’t know she was going to do that,” he told you, confirming what you had already assumed. “But I’m sorry.”

You gave a little laughing, shaking your head, “Ushijima, you have nothing to be sorry for. I know you take pictures with your fans sometimes.”

“No, I’m sorry because I didn’t understand why you would be upset at it at first. But Tendō helped me understand. Please don’t go taking photos like that with other men,” Ushijima asked you and made you laugh again. “I... I wouldn’t like it.” He admitted shyly, his lips turning to a small smile as he watched you laugh.

“She’s rather pretty though,” you mumbled softly, finally wiping the rest of your tears that were building in your eyes. “I just... You two look really good together.”

Ushijima seemed to think about this, lifting his eyes up to the ceiling as he considered your words, “She’s not ugly.” He stated simply, finally looking back down at you. “But I have no feelings towards her.”

“Feelings can be developed,” you suggested, hating every word that was coming from your mouth. Why were you arguing for him to leave you? Why were you trying to convince him?

Ushijima gave a chuckle this time, patting your head softly, “Why would I want to develop feelings for anyone else when I have so many feelings for you? You have nothing to be jealous over, love.”

Ushijima always said things with such honesty and you knew he would never say anything he didn’t mean... but didn’t he know there were girls out there much better than you?

“You are the one I want to be with. Not anyone else. All those girls I see at my games all look the same. But when I look at you,” Ushijima let his thumb graze over your lips gently, a small smirk on his lips, “I have to remind myself to stop looking at you. I have to tell myself that I’m staring. Before we started dating, Tendō told me you might think I was creepy because I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

You giggled, trying to not focus on the tingles this man’s finger left on your lips, “Oh ya?”

Ushijima just nodded firmly and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. I couldn’t care less about anyone else. Do you trust me?”

The question hung in the air for a moment - you knew you did but how long would it be before he realized just how incredible he was?

“Yeah,” you whispered, trying to shove down all of your anxieties.

He watched you and even though you were saying yes, there was something about the way you were standing that didn’t match with your words. Ushijima wasn’t the best at understanding people, but he knew you. “Everyone of those fans would stop coming up to me if I wasn’t as good at volleyball. One day, when I can’t play as well anymore, or if I ever get injured, all those fans will disappear. But the only one I’d still want with me is you. That’s how I know I love you.”

And even if it was just for a moment, all your anxieties stopped. You smiled to yourself and threw your arms around him into a tight hug. Ushijima’s massive arms wrapped around you as he pressed more kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “Next time, please talk to me honestly,” he whispered to you.

You nodded into his shoulder, closing your eyes tightly and murmuring back, “I love you too.”

The two of you would end up in your room, curled up with some show playing in the background before you’d sit up in realization, blinking at him in surprise, “Hang on, didn’t the team go for your celebration dinner?”

Ushijima shrugged and nodded, glancing at the time displayed on his phone screen, “Yeah they should be done soon. I imagine Tendō will text me to make sure you’re okay after.”

Your forehead creased in worry, staring at him, “Did... Did they drop you off on the way or something?”

Ushijima’s eyes shared your level of confusion, tilting his head as he tried to think about your question, “Why would they?”

“Ushijima, how the hell did you get here?” You asked with wide eyes, remembering how out of breath he was and wanting to hear the words from his lips.

“I ran,” he stated simply as if it was such a casual thing to do. “Is that important to know?”

“Babe, your tournament was across the city,” you gaped, mouth open slightly as your eyes widened even further. “That must’ve been such a long run, especially after a game!”

Ushijima thought for a moment, thinking about how the team had to take a bus to the games today, and how Y/N had to take transit. His mind tried to calculate the distance, though it wasn’t likely he’d get an answer. He just shrugged, thinking nothing of it as he settled back into your bed, “I could’ve gone farther,” was all he said as he pulled you in for some more cuddles, “as long as it was for you.”

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

He’s Lost - Bakugou Katsuki - Part 1

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings - Angst, Physical Harm, Cursing, accused Cheating, Katsuki’s insecurities

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: This is my first writing piece but this has been stuck in my mind since v-day is coming up so I had to get it out. Plz enjoy!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Y/N is so busy around Valentine’s, her lack of attention towards her Pomeranian is causing him to freak out and do the worst of the worst

Love is in the air! The birds are singing, The breeze is blowing, the setting sun is shining, and the explosive teen is.....well, bruting.

Can you blame him though? Y/N’s been a little distant ever since February started. Even right now, instead of enjoying their time together in a quiet park, she’s staring down at her phone doing who knows what.

Why? Was he not good enough? Has she gotten tired of him? They’ve only been together for a little over a year. Is she talking to someon- no. Katsuki stopped himself from thinking like that. There’s no way his precious teddy bear would ever do that. Not only that, he was the best there is. Why would she even try to go?

“You dumbass. You’re missing this.” Bakugou sighed. “Huh? What? Missing what?” Y/N looked around looking for whatever “this” was until Bakugou grabbed her chin to force her to look him in the eyes. “THIS DUMBASS! US! You’re so focused on that dumb phone. Jeez, can’t a guy just get his girl’s attention.” Bakugou said dramatically.

It wasn’t that Y/N wasn’t giving him attention, it’s that it wasn’t the same. Yea she right there snuggled into his arm. And yea she was petting his hair just the way he liked. And YES, she was peppering his face with kisses from time to time. But it all felt off? Like only half her energy was put into the love and affection.

“Suki, aren’t u being a little dramatic. I’m right here with you baby. I’m sorry if I’ve been a little distracted. Come here dummy.” And as Y/N pulls Bakugou in for a tighter hug all he can do is release a “hmph” while falling into it...until her phone went (ding!) once again. And she went to check it. Once again.

Bakugou was getting tired so he got up and suggested they’d head back to UA. Y/N only got up and began to walk beside him, hand in hand, while still checking her phone time to time. And Bakugou was getting sick of it

*Wtf is she doing on that piece of junk? What could be so important she would half ass our entire evening together? .....Could she possibly be talking to someone else?............no.* Bakugou let those negative thoughts die down as they continued their journey back.

——————————————————————————

A few days later

“COME ON!!” Bakugou screamed as he realeased a blast towards Kirishima. When Bakugou invited him to train, The red head initially thought it was to ...you know..TRAIN. But after some time, the blonde’s best friend began to see the bigger picture.

“Dude. What’s up with you man? We always go full on during training, but it’s not even like you’re trying to hit me. It feels like you’re just taking your anger out on me.” Kirishima said.

“Congrats on noticing shitty hair, I’m glad somebody’s noticing my damn mood.” Weirded out by his friend’s unusual openness, the red head continued to ask.

“So what’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“But you just-“

“NOPE!”

Bakugou exclaimed as he began to gather his stuff to leave the training area. “BAKUGOU!” Kiri shouted. “WHAT!” “.......it’s Y/N isn’t it?”

Upon hearing that, the blonde turned to look at his best friend with this sad puppy dog look. And man, if Katsuki had doggy ears, everyone would see how low they’d go. His best friend didn’t need to see it though, he could tell those ears would be 6 ft under if they were actually there bc there’s nothing hiding Katsuki’s vulnerability when it comes to Y/N. As the two best friends go to sit on the bleachers, Bakugou takes a deep breath before saying his thoughts.

“I think Y/N is cheating on me.”

“................HUH???!!!!”

Kirishima went from “caring and considerate” to “WHATDIDHESAYYY” in seconds. Y/N L/N?? Cheating?? Ok. Y/N was one fiesty girl, and she definitely had sass, power, attitude, and a little mischief, but she also had kindness, compassion, consideration, and honesty flowing though her. Not to mention extreme loyalty. There’s no way.

“Look man, with all due respect, I think you’ve finally lost it.” The red head laughed. “I’m being serious shitty hair.” The blonde stated. “She’s been so distracted lately. She’s always with me but it’s like her mind is also somewhere else. And not to mention that damn phone she’s always on now. She can’t go 30 minutes without checking it at least twice. And not only that, when she does leave to do whatever, she’s gone for hours at a time! What’s a guy supposed to think with all of that?! I mean it’d make sense if she wanted to leave. I get it, I can get loud, and yell, and I get angry a lot but.. she knows I never mean it, right? I call her a dumbass like i do everyone else...ugh but she isn’t just everyone else, she’s my girlfriend and she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.....SO WHY TF IS SHE CHEATIN-“ before the blonde could continue, his best friend cut him off.

“BAKUGOU” “WHAT??!!” “....talk to her.” Kirishima said. “What?” Bakugou asked. Kirishima continued. “Cheating is a real sensitive topic in a relationship. I don’t wanna give my opinion on something that could ruin something amazing. C’mon man, we both know Y/N isn’t like that but who am I to tell you what to do. I wanna help, I do, but I think it’s best if you go to her with all this. Honestly though, if you asked me, Y/N would be the last person I’d ever think of when it came to cheating on ANYTHING. Especially the guy she cares so much about.” And with that last sentence, Kirishima stood up from his spot and pat Bakugou on his shoulder before exiting.

With Bakugou left with nothing but his thoughts and Kirishima’s advice, he left and headed straight towards your room.

——————————————————————————

“Shut up!” You excitingly screamed though the phone. “You really found the last part?”

“Yup, it only took about 6 different stores across the entire city.” Shinsou sarcastically replied. “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know and I appreciate it. Katsuki’s gonna love his gift!” You said.

With Valentine’s Day around the corner, you’ve been preparing only the best Valentine’s Day surprise for the best boyfriend in the world. You’ve been so busy planning your surprise that I guess you could say you haven’t been giving Katsuki the massive amount of attention he’s used to from you, but you can definitely say it’ll all be worth it when he sees one of his presents that you’ve been working on. A silencer for his gauntlet blasts that not only decreases the volume of his attacks, but also increases his attack power. You remember how Bakugou had vented about his attacks being too loud that they scare people, but when he tried to keep them quiet, the attack isn’t as powerful so saving can be quite difficult. He only spoke about it once, but you could see the look on his face whenever he was out using his quirk around civilians. So why not give him a device that’ll help with his loud little problem. Now were you a support class student who knew how to make support items? Hell no. But were you a loving girlfriend willing to give her man the best Valentine’s Day ever? Hell yeah.

The piece of gear would’ve been easier to make IF it weren’t for a pesky piece of the project getting destroyed by Shinsou after he made Denki electrocute himself while he was right next to your prototype on the table. So to make it up to you, Shinsou went all around town looking for the piece you needed to complete your support item for Katsuki. Finally, all pieces had come together.

“He better. That damn bastard doesn’t know how amazing his girlfriend is. Instead of ignoring his ass these past few weeks, you sent ME to get all this shit for you so you could keep your precious Pomeranian happy.” Shinsou said while rolling his baggy eyes.

As Bakugou approached the outside of your dorm room’s door, he heard your voice.

“You know, you’re so right. That Pomeranian is unaware of just exactly how amazing I am. I really could’ve left whenever but I stuck around.” You snorted. “Well I’m glad I had you with me through it all Shinsou.”

*Pomeranian? SHINSOU?!? Through IT ALL?!?!? YOU WERE WITH THAT PURPLE HAIRED, SLEEP DEPRIVED ASS MIND CONTROLLING FREAK?!?? AND YOU WERE WITH HIM THE ENTIRE TIME YOU’VE BEEN DATING BAKUGOU?!?*

Oh to say Katsuki was pissed was an understatement. He felt all these emotions hitting him all at once. Anger, Disgust, Pain, Betrayal. It all became too much for him before Katsuki ran away from your down with his bed down and silent tears hitting the floor. When he let himself fall to the floor in the privacy of his room he screamed into his hands. His first love, his first real relationship, his teddy bear betraying his love, loyalty, and trust for over an entire year. After hours of crying, Katsuki was able to pull himself into bed. He couldn’t even bring himself to shower even though he spent all that time in the gym with Kirishima. He just wanted to sleep to escape reality. As he looked at his phone, he saw 1 missed call from Y/N, and 1 text saying “Goodnight love💗💥!” Bakugou scoffed at the text. Figuring u must be texting Shinsou the same thing. As Bakugou placed his phone down, an evil thought came to mind. Ruin her.

Bakugou smirked to himself as he had this pyscho and sinister look on his face. He would ruin Y/N. They haven’t officially broken up yet, so he could hurt her just as she hurt him. And Bakugou wasn’t stupid or so he thought he’s aware Valentine’s is coming up, so why not break little Y/N L/N’s heart on a day dedicated to nothing but love and happiness. It’ll be the perfect revenge on a little satin like her. Bakugou finally turned on his side with an evil, satisfied smile, and fat tears in his eyes once more.

——————————————————————————

The next morning, Katsuki got up with a broken heart, but he figured if he wanted his plan to work, he had to fake this smile. Getting up, getting ready, and getting dressed was business as usual, but meeting up with Y/N in the morning was now off the schedule. Instead of going into her room to check on her like he usually does, he just went straight to breakfast and straight to class without speaking to anyone.

With Class 1-A seated and Mr.Aizawa at the head of the classroom, the students can finally start their first lesson of the day. Until, the door slid wide open. There stood an exhausted and quite frankly dishelved Y/N. “My apologies sensei. I was up late last night and overslept. Please forgive me.” Y/N said as she bowed her head in sorry. “Just take your seat L/N.” The tired eye teacher said.

As Y/N walked to her desk, she noticed Bakugou wouldn’t even glance her way. She was a little thrown off since it would be normal for him to at least give her a judgemental look for sleeping in, but no. Nothing.

Bakugou on the other hand was writhing in agony. Oh how he wanted to check on Y/N and make sure everything was fine, but that voice in the back of his head couldn’t help but tell him to ignore her since she’s a cheater. She may have been the girl he’s loved dearest, but she was also the one causing his heart to shatter.

After a few classes, Y/N tried to approach Bakugou several times, but each time he brushed her off. And when the bell finally rang for lunch, you can bet Katsuki was the first one out the door. Y/N followed him of course, in worry and concern.

“Babe! Baby! Katsuuu!!! KATSUKII!” Y/N whined for her boyfriend to at least look at her but once again. Nothing. Bakugou wanted to hug her and hold her tight but he couldn’t. Not after what she’s done. Right before Bakugou entered the cafeteria, Y/N pulled him aside and held onto his wrists.

“Baby? Hey, what’s up with you? I’ve been calling your name and trying to talk to you but you keep brushing me off. You also didn’t stop by this morning. Is something wrong, love?” Y/N was hoping for something. ANYTHING at this point. And it was like the gods heard her prayer because she definitely got....something. “My bad.” The blonde haired boy dryly replied. “....Oh, um, ok suki.” The poor girl just thought her dear boyfriend was having a bad day, so she just left it alone and let him go. But still, even on his worse days he would at least visit her in the mornings. As they sat down with the bakusquad, the entire table noticed how Bakugou sat up and moved across from Y/N after she chose to sit next to him like usual. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and Kirishima could already feel what had gone down. He at least knew his bro didn’t talk to his girl. Not manly at all.

——————————————————————————

Valentine’s Day

During lunch, Kirishima has finally decided to speak to Bakugou about this whole thing. He hasn’t been getting any updates since their time in the gym, so when it was just him and his best friend having lunch together, he went for it.

“Man what the hell is going on with you and Y/N? I’ve noticed you’ve been avoiding her like crazy,” Kirishima said while stuffing his face, nervous about the answer. “I was right all along.” The blonde sadly spoke. “She’s been cheating on me since the start of our entire relationship. And with that baggy eyed freak from 1-B.”

Kirishima couldnt believe what he was hearing. He almost choked on his food. Y/N was actually cheating. I guess people don’t know people as well as he thought. “.....wow...I’m sorry man.” The red haired friend said. He was at a lost for words and didn’t know what else to say. *sigh* “don’t be. It all goes down tonight.” Bakugou said with a sad smile. “What do you mean?” His friend asked. The blonde looked at him right in his red eyes. “I’m breaking her heart tonight, on the one day of the year dedicated to love.”

Meanwhile

Instead of going to lunch, Y/N spent her time finishing up Katsuki’s surprise in his room. Yeah, he’s been having a bad past few days so why not bring him a smile with these amazing gifts on the day of love. Although Y/N didn’t really feel the love today (due to Katsuki again being so distant and ignoring her “good morning blasty💥💗!” And “Happy Valentine’s Day my love♥️!” Texts) she was determined to make sure Katsuki knew just exactly how much she loved him. She was almost done setting up in his room. Rose petals on the bed, Candles everywhere, 4 different gifts including his new support item made by you, his favorite meal is going to be set here on his table, and you and him together spending every loving second with each other. Y/N didn’t realize that because of her setup, she missed the entire rest of the day. “Meh, so worth it when I see the look on Suki’s face.” Tonight is going to be perfect.....or so you thought.

You didn’t expect to find Katsuki in your room, sitting on the edge of you bed waiting for you with his head hanging low and his shoulders slumped.

*maybe he has a surprise for me....? Yea that has to be it!* Y/N happily thought as she closed the door.

“Suki!! Happy Valentine’s Day!” Y/N said with all the love in her heart as she ran and jumped on the boy for a hug. But Bakugou didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He just glanced back up at her, giving her this cold stare. Y/N was too busy professing her undying love for her boyfriend to even notice his scary silence. “Suki I’m really glad it’s you who I have in my life,” the love sicken girl bashfully spoke while looking at the ground. “You make me so happy and I feel so blessed being able to spend my life with you in it. I really hope you know just how much I care and lov-“ Bakugou couldn’t listen to this bullshit anymore. He pushed Y/N off of him just before she could say those 3 words that would get him to break.

“Hey! Suki? Why would you do that?!” Y/N exclaimed while standing back up. “I hate you.” The blonde spoke coldly. As those words left his mouth, Y/N heart and world were falling apart. Her eyes went wide open and her jaw slightly dropped. As she was about to say something else, Katsuki cut her off with “I’m breaking up with your dumbass. Right here. Right now!” Bakugou yelled. Y/N was in shock. She felt hurt, pain, she was just feeling so broken.

As tears filled her eyes, she asked “w-why?” as she tried to reach out to him. “Why? WHY?!” Bakugou screamed as he stood up above her slapping her hand away. “THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN WHY, Y/N. YOU’RE A FUCKING CHEATER, THATS WHY!” The blonde yelled in her face. Y/N couldn’t believe it. He thought she was cheating? Why would she even do that? She already has the best person in the world for her so why? “DONT EVEN GIVE ME THAT “it didn’t mean anything, Suki!” BULLSHIT. I DONT GIVE A FUCK, CUZ YOU’VE BEEN CHEATING ON ME AND PLAYING ME FOR A DAMN FOOL THIS ENTIRE FUCKING TIME!” Bakugou went on as his voice began to crack while tears flowed down his porcelain face. “YOU LIED TO ME. I GAVE YOU MY ENTIRE BEING AND YOU FUCKING LIED. YOU DUMB FUCKING BITCH, I CANT BELIEVE I EVER LOVED A SORRY EXCUSE OF A PERSON LIKE YOU. I HATE YOU SO DAMN MUCH, I DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT THE FUCK I SAW IN YOU!” Y/N’s heart hit the ground. No actually, it went 6 ft under because after all that he’s said, her heart is dead. Broken. In agony. “Suki I-“ “DONT FUCKING CALL ME THAT L/N.” Hearing him refer to her with her family name hit so hard. “KATSUKI PLEASE! I DIDNT DO ANYTHING I SWEA-“ as Y/N tried to reach out to him, he interrupted her again and pushed her hand away. “I SAID DONT CALL ME THAT!”

The blonde yelled, except this time....he didn’t only yell. The burning scent of smoke came into his nose and the loud explosion could be heard throughout the building. The product of what he just did came to him. He just attacked the love of his life. As much as Y/N hurt him, Katsuki still loved her with his everything. And the fact that he subconsciously attacked her broke him even more. Y/N’s screams of pain reached his ears, as he looked down and saw his precious teddy bear with a burned arm and fat tears on her face, crying in pain.

Bakugou ran down to her level to try and help her. “Y/N! Hey, hey teddy bear look I’m so-“ Y/N pushed him away before he could continue. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU BAKUGOU?!” Ouch. His family name felt like poison coming from your tongue. “Princess, I’m sorry I didn’t-“ “SHUT UP AND LET ME SPEAK FOR ONCE YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” Y/N screamed as she stood up to face him. “I DIDNT FUCKING CHEAT ON YOU. WHY THE HELL WOULD I DO THAT WHEN YOU’RE THE BEST DAMN THING THATS EVER HAPPENED TO ME?!..ah!” Y/N was cut off by the stinging of her wound, and Bakugou couldn’t do anything but stare. Y/N grabbed onto her wound before continuing. “I love you Bakugou. I wouldn’t even dream about doing wrong by you. I thought I was a good girlfriend or at least a good person-“ Bakugou quickly interrupted “No! Y/N you are, I just-“ “If I am then what the hell made you even think of me so lowly? What the hell did I do to make you question my loyalty? What the hell did I do that was worthy of you burning my fucking arm?!” Y/N cried out.

Silence fell upon the room. It felt like hours before anybody said anything. Both people had heavy tears in their face now. One crying because he realized he was an idiot and harmed the girl who did nothing wrong, and One crying because she did nothing wrong but ended up being a villain in her loved one’s life. Y/N broke the silence with a scoff.

“You know what Suki?” Y/N said looking him in the eyes. “Yes teddy bear?” Bakugou quickly replied with wide, desperate eyes upon hearing the loving nickname, thinking they would move on from this horrible incident. “Get the fuck out.” Y/N said in a low voice. Bakugou was shocked. He knew he fucked up horribly but after realizing the truth, he can’t leave you! He loves you too damn much for that! “What? Y/N please listen to me, I’m sor-“ “I DONT GIVE A FUCK! Leave..please.” The sad girl cried. Bakugou grabbed onto her shoulders begging her to not end this. “Y/N please! Please princess! I’m so fucking sorry! I’m an idiot, I know, and I definitely don’t deserve you but please I can’t lose you.” Bakugou said with tears falling down his face. “Please don’t do this to us. Please don’t do this to me, I’m BEGGING YOU.” “Bakugou-“ The sad boy cut you off, shaking his head, “ NO ITS SUKI. YOUR SUKI. YOUR KATSUKI.......please teddy bear I need you.......h-here let me help yo-”

You harshly pushed the boy off of you and as he tried to desperately go back to you, you used your quirk to keep him at bay. “Bakugou Katsuki. I’m leaving this room since you won’t, and I won’t come back until I know you’re out of my room.” Y/N began as she looked at him with cold, sad eyes. “From now on, you won’t have to worry about this bitch because I’ll stay out of your life, I swear. Don’t look at me, don’t touch me, DONT EVEN TALK TO ME. Just leave me alone....we’re done.” And with that Y/N ran out of her room, and out of the building, needing to get away from the place for a little bit. She could deal with her wound later. She just needed to get away. Bakugou just stood there in sadness and shock. As much as he wanted to run after you, he figured he’d give you a little breather. You guys could fix things in the morning...right?

Bakugou waited an hour in your room waiting for you, but you were right. You really weren’t coming back until he left your private area. So that’s what he did. With a heavy heart, he picked himself up and dragged his feet back to his dorm. He looked like a mess. He knew he did. Messy hair, red swollen eyes, dry lips. His entire body screamed heartbroken. When he open the door, instant regret and love hit him at once. His room was covered with rose petals and flowers, there were candles everywhere, heart shaped balloons all around, he had 4 different boxes of gifts, and two plates of extra spicy curry was set on his table, obviously cold now. What caught his eye was that one of the gift boxes had a note attached to it. With tears in his eyes, he read it.

Hey Suki! It’s Valentine’s Day! I love you to the moon and back and so much more. There’s no words that are able to describe the way I feel about you. You drive me insane in all the right ways and I love it! Lol. I hope you like your Valentine’s Day surprise. I’ve been working for weeks on it, so I’m sorry if I’ve been a little distracted. I know I’ve been kinda absent these past few days but I promise I’ll make it up to you love! Hopefully I can start with this gift that I’ve been working on. Enjoy your brand new grenade silencer! Made it myself just for you. There’s nothing else in the world like this. I love you Bakugou Katsuki!

(P.S. If Shinsou from 1-B gives you shit about it, it’s because I made him drag his ass everywhere to look for a missing part so I wouldn’t have to leave you so much)

XOXO, Your forever teddy bear <3

As he quickly opened the gift, he saw it. A silencer that would attach to his gauntlets to make the sound quieter and the blast even more powerful. It was incredible. You are incredible. He only ever mentioned the sound of his blasts once, and you listened and you fixed it.

Bakugou shook as tears began to fall onto the paper. He couldn’t believe it. Everything started coming together now. The reason you were so distracted was because you were setting this up for him. You were always on the phone because you were assembling pieces and ordering gifts for him. You weren’t cheating on him with Shinsou. You were making sure he could find something that you needed for him. Y/N L/N was truly the best girlfriend in the world. Scratch that, she is the best girlfriend in the world. No scratch that too, she’s just the best, period. And Bakugou’s idiotic self ruined everything for him. All because he couldn’t have a little faith in his teddy bear. As Katsuki cried and cried, he set everything aside.

He took the petals off his bed. He didn’t deserve it. He blew out the candles around his room. He didn’t deserve it. He popped the balloons, and ignored the food. He laid in bed with more tears than ever, and looked at the ceiling. He finally turned to his side to fall asleep, but not before grabbing the picture on his bedside nightstand. A picture of you and him. He remembers that picture oh so clearly. It was his birthday, and while he didn’t want to celebrate, you did everything in your power to make it the best one yet. And you did just that. Bakugou hugged that picture so tight, because he didn’t have you in his arms tonight. He didn’t think he would ever have you in his arms again. So Bakugou Katsuki continued to cry until he was asleep, escaping from the reality of him losing his love, his teddy bear, his princess, and his Y/N.

Bakugou Katsuki never lost, no. He’s always been ahead, always number one, always the best. He always won and achieved and nothing ever stopped him. Except this time, the only thing that stopped him and caused him to lose, was himself. He lost. He lost his everything. His world, his rock, his heart, his Y/N. He’s lost without her in his life, and at this point he thinks he’s lost at life. There was nothing that could fix him unless it was you coming back to him.

Bakugou Katsuki? He’s lost.

A/N: HOLY SHIT! That was my very first writing piece and it was just a Drabble of a thought I’ve been having. Sorry if it’s a little off and weird, I’m still new to writing but hopefully I’ll get better. This was NOT spell checked so my apologies for any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed reading this! Thx for the love!

#bakugou angst #bakugou oneshot #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #bakugou x y/n #bhna bakugou #bakugo angst #bakugou fanfiction #bnha angst

1K notes · View notes

fandom-imagines · 3 years

Text

Little Miss Favourite

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Teacher!Snape X Legal!Granger!Reader

Warnings: Teacher x student relationship x)

Words: 2.5k

It would be a lie to say that the Granger sisters weren’t incredibly smart, anyone could see it. Whilst Hermione, the younger sibling, was exceptionally talented with spells, Y/N was talented in the art of potion making; not that she wasn’t talented at other things also.

Due to her consistently high scores in potions, Y/N had caught the attention of her favourite teacher: Severus Snape, despite his annoyance towards the younger Granger. Whilst he found Hermione insufferable, Y/N was more than tolerable in his honest opinion; not that he would ever admit that to anyone, maybe not even himself.

Perhaps it was her confident personality, her boldness or her smarts, Severus would never know. Of course, it wasn’t only him that had his attention focused on her, many people did. Those people included Hermione’s friends. Y/N knew this, how could she not? The way Harry did his best to show off whilst Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron got all embarrassed, it was obvious; at least to her. Even though her personalist screamed confident, she wasn’t mean like other people at Hogwarts, not often at least.

“Morning Professor,” her words were sweet as she greeted the dark-haired man, early as always.

“Good morning, Miss Granger,” Snapes tone was kinder than usual, but without it being clear. To anyone else, it would seem normal.

“Got a date for the Yule Ball yet, sir?” Whilst her question was genuine and not flirtatious, Severus couldn’t help but wish it was.

“Why would I bother with something as childish as having a date?”

“I shall take that as a no,”

He could hear the stool she usually seated at drag out from beneath the desk before she seated herself on top of it.

“What about you Miss Granger?” Y/N, who had forgotten what she had previously asked him, was confused at his question. “Surely someone like you must have a date,”

A sight blush ran up her cheeks at his words, eyes wide.

“No sir,” she giggled. “Not interested in anyone that’s asked me.”

Her words caught his attention, eyes glancing towards her for a split second before returning to the work he was marking. It was Harry Potters; he could almost roll his eyes.

“Why is that?”

“Immature men that feel like I should go with them because they’re popular? No thank you, give me a mature and unentitled man any day,”

For the second time in five minutes her words caught his attention, suddenly distracted by what she had said rather than being distracted by Potter’s work.

“I see,”

It wasn’t long until the rest of her class began to pile into the dungeon, taking their usual seats as Fred and George came to sit beside her at their typical desk.

“Morning, Y/N/N,” the greeted in perfect synergy, almost as though it had been rehearsed but she knew better than to expect that and simply laughed.

“We heard something,” Fred began.

“Potter is wanting to ask you to be his date to the Yule Ball.” George finished, the twins laughing at Y/N’s shocked face.

“Please say you’re joking,” she pleaded, desperately hoping that it wasn’t true. “He’s so much younger than me!”

“Oh and Hermione is going with Krum,”

“This day just gets worse and worse,”

“Weasleys, detention.” A harsh voice interrupted their conversation as to be expected.

“But sir!” They groaned, once again in unison. “She was talking too!”

“Not as much as you two.”

The great hall was quiet, everyone there working on their essays, everyone being the fourth years. Fortunately for her, Y/N was allowed to sit and work alongside the younger students having been given permission by Professor Snape himself.

“Hey Y/N,” Harry’s quiet voice pulled her attention away from the parchment in front of her. “I was just wondering-“ His words were soon cut off by a hand shoving his head into his own parchment.

“Silence,”

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

An amused smirk covered Y/N’s lips as she turned her own attention back to the work in front of her that was soon to be finished.

“Later guys,” she shot the trio one last smile as she walked towards Snape, handing him her essay with a small smile, one he almost wished to return.

“I’m sure this will be as excellent as always, Granger.”

“I sure hope so, sir.”

With one final nod, Severus dismissed her.

Music blasted throughout the hall as the Tri-wizard champions begun to dance with their partners. Y/N and her own date, who ended up being George due to both forgetting about the dance until the night before, stood laughing at Ron’s dress robes.

“He looks like our great aunt,” George chuckled, his words making Y/N snort in amusement.

“Poor kid. He looks so embarrassed,” she giggled.

“Well, looks like its our turn to dance. Care to join me, Granger?” George grinned, offering him her hand which she gladly took.

“After you, but can you even dance?”

“Nope,”

“Good, me neither.”

Their dance was horrendous, and they were both glad when the music ended, the pair running off the dance floor in laughter, hands still together.

“That was- “George began, only to have his sentence finished by his dance partner.

“Dreadful?”

“Yeah,”

Their fit of laughter was cut short by another voice joining the conversation. “Nice dancing guys!”

“Shut up, Fred!” This time it was Y/N and George’s turn to speak in unison, something that triggered a smirk to grow on Fred’s lips.

“Alright, alright, calm down you two,”

“I almost feel bad for him,” Fred chuckled, catching George and Y/N’s attention as they followed his gaze.

“I would but he gave us detention and not her, talk about favouritism!”

An idea popped into Y/N’s head, as she removed herself from the twins’ arms.

“Where are you going, Y/N/N?” Fred asked. “Wait are you-“

“I feel bad for him, okay!”

The twins burst into laughter as they realised her plan.

“I bet you my entire allowance that she can’t get him to dance,” Fred whispered as they watched Y/N walking towards Snape.

“You’re on,”

“Evening, Professor,” Y/N greeted, desperately trying her best to not show her nervousness.

“Good evening, Miss Granger,” He returned her greeting, turning his attention fully to her. “Shouldn’t you be with your date?”

“George? No, we both forgot we needed dates, so we went together. He’ll cope on his own,” The girl giggled, glancing back at said man to see both twins smirking at her. “You look lonely, want to dance?”

“Do I look like the sort of person to dance?”

“Do I?” She joked, enjoying the small smirk that pulled up at his lips. “It’ll be one dance and then I’ll let you go back to enjoying your own company. It’s a teacher and student dance anyway!”

“No way…” Fred gasped, watching as Snape and Y/N headed to the dancefloor.

“I knew she could do it! You now owe me your entire allowance,”

“Shit,”

“See it wasn’t too bad, was it, Professor?” Y/N giggled, aware of the fact that everyone had been staring at her dancing with Snape.

“You stepped on my foot at least three times,”

“I said I don’t dance!”

She celebrated a silent victory as Snape shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“This is true,”

“Welp, I’ll leave you to enjoy your own company again!” The older Granger grinned, giving him one final nod as she headed by to the twins who were still in shock.

“Shut your mouth, Fred. You’ll catch flies,” Y/N smirked, placing her hand on Fred’s chin to shut up mouth that had been open since she managed to convince Snape to dance.

“Did you bewitch him or something?! How on earth did you manage to get him to dance?” George asked in shock.

“Night guys, thanks for the fun time.” She winked, downing the rest of her drink that she had left before leaving the hall to head to bed.

“Miss Granger, you’re late,” Snapes’ words ran throughout the dungeon.

It was strange, how he knew it was her before he had even turned around to face her.

“Sorry Professor, I had a detention.”

“Well now you have another, stay after class.”

“Good luck, Snapes detentions are horrible,” George chuckled, giving Y/N a reassuring pat on the back.

“Yeah, we would know, Miss Favourite,” Fred chimed in with his typical teasing tone.

“Thanks, that makes me feel better. I’ll see you guys later,”

“Good luck.”

The second everyone had left the classroom, Snapes attention was on her.

“So why did you get a detention?” His words were questioning, not malicious. It was almost as though he was genuinely curious.

“I got in a duel,” Y/N shook her head with a slight laugh. “Malfoy was being, well Malfoy. So, yeah.”

A grin covered her lips as Snape shook his head in slight amusement; it was cute in a way.

“Next time don’t get caught, it makes my classes a lot easier,”

“Got ya, Professor,”

“Good, you may leave,”

“That was quick, did he have to leave?” Fred, who had been waiting outside for about two minutes, asked.

“Little miss favourite,” were her only words as she shot Fred a wink, just like she had done at the ball a few weeks ago.

“I swear he has a crush on you or something,”

“Yeah, imagine. Professor Severus Snape developing a crush on a student, nice one George. Why are you two even here?”

The twins, who had been caught red-handed, shared an amused look, quickly rushing into action by grasping Y/N’s arms, tugging her along.

“We need someone to test our latest concoction!” They spoke in unison.

“No, no way! Merlin knows what you’ve put in that!”

“Either you help us, or we’ll tell everyone about your little crush on the potions professor,”

“Fine.”

“Fred and George Weasley, you come here this instance!” Y/N’s voice shrieked, her words echoing throughout the entire Gryffindor common room.

“Run!” Was all she heard, followed by laughter and footsteps leaving through the portrait.

Y/N rushed after them, hell bent on causing as much annoyance to them as they had to her.

“I will kill you!”

“That’s not very nice now, is it? You love us really,” George teased her once more before darting away.

“George Weasley I am faster than you and you know it!”

It wasn’t a lie, Y/N had been, and always will be, faster than him. No matter how many pranks they had to run away from, the twins would never be able to outrun her.

“What have you done to my hair?!” Y/N demanded to know the second she caught both boys by the collar of their robes. “Please say this comes out, I don’t want my hair to be yellow and green forever, I hate it!”

“Well you see, Y/N/N,” Fred chuckled with a hint of nervousness. “We don’t know, you’re our first consumer!”

“Fred, I am begging you, I look like a lollipop.”

“I’m sure you taste as sweet as one too, Y/N,” a Slytherin by-passer commented, clearly having heard the entire conversation.

“Shut th-“

“Detention and ten points from Slytherin,”

Fred, George and Y/N shared a terrified look as Professor Snape stood behind the trio.

“Trying a new style are we, Granger? It is quite bold,” despite the blunt words, there was an almost undetectable teasing tone laced in his words.

“Not willingly, Professor,”

“Then why did you do it?”

“They blackmailed me!”

“With what?”

The twins smirked at each other, as though they were sent on a mission to ruin her day.

“She has a crush, Professor,” George smirked at the, now multi-coloured haired, girl.

“George Weasley!” In a swift movement, Y/N rushed towards the ginger, only to be stopped by a hand holding her robe. “Professor let me go!”

“Isn’t she cute, Fred?”

“Adorable, George,”

“I hate you both.” Y/N, who had accepted her fate of being held my Snape (which didn’t seem too bad in all honesty), sighed.

“You love us really,”

“You wish, Fredrick.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“If you three have quite finished,” Snape interrupted their quarrel. “I think I know how to remove that colour from your hair, Miss Granger. Follow me.” There was no room for debate as the potions master turned and rushed towards his classroom.

“I’ll kill you,” Y/N mouthed before rushing after him.

“Sit,” Snape said, lightly kicking a stool out towards Y/N before walking towards a cupboard that, she assumed, had potions or at least ingredients for them.

“Are you sure this will work, Professor? I really don’t want anyone else to see me like this,”

“You mean you don’t want your crush to see you like this?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

“He already has,” her words were a mere murmur, but it was one Severus had heard.

“The Slytherin?” Snape asked whilst he grabbed a weird looking liquid. “Here drink.”

“Merlin, no. I don’t even know who that was. This tastes disgusting,”

“Do you want the colour gone or not?”

“Sorry,”

Snape let out a small sigh, his arms crossing by habit.

“Potter, perhaps?”

“Are we playing guess the crush or something?”

“Well, we have time. This needs a second dose in around thirty minutes,”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to sigh.

“It’s probably not a good idea to play this game with me,” she joked. “I’m quite competitive,”

“You would have done well in Slytherin,”

“I doubt it,”

“Under me you would have done brilliantly. You are doing brilliantly already.”

A bright red blush ran up Y/N’s cheeks at his use of words.

“You should be careful what you say, Professor. Someone might interpret your words wrong,”

“That someone being you?”

“Perhaps,”

“I see.”

An awkward silence filled the air, something that was uncommon between the pair.

“I’m sorry, that was a bit straight-forward,”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Sorry,”

“Don’t be,”

Whilst his reply was short, the words caught her attention, her head spinning to face him.

“Don’t be?”

“I said what I said.” Came his simple response.

“I don’t understand,”

“Maybe little miss favourite should do some thinking,”

“Oh…” She whispered. “Oh! Here I am thinking I’m just a teacher’s pet,”

He smiled slightly. “Not quite, Miss Granger,”

Footsteps echoed throughout the dungeon as he walked towards Y/N, his fingers lightly pushing against her chin to bring her to face him, her cheeks as red as flames.

“So, I’m your little miss favourite?”

“Clearly,”

808 notes · View notes

hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

sundress || part 7

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 7] || she needs him.

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [tell me how good it feels to be needed] needy x ariana grande

taglist [open] :

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__________________________

Friday, 17 September, 9:50pm

The moment Yoongi and Y/n are stepping into Gryffindor common room, having come down the stairs from her room hand in hand, Jungkook is on his feet. His eyes are trained solely on Yoongi, and there’s a kind of burning anger there that has the rest of their friends tensing, especially when the Gryffindor heads right for them. Yoongi wonders with brief amusement if Jungkook’s going to hit him.

And he does try -- rather, he tries to grab at Yoongi’s shirt. But Y/n’s stepping in the way just as Jungkook’s reaching out for the Slytherin, and he has to raise his arms and stop short, his sneakers slipping on the rug beneath his feet as he struggles to avoid making contact with her instead. He looks like an idiot, and he knows it, but the thought of almost having put his hands on Y/n sobers Jungkook quickly.

They stand there in silence for a moment, their friends watching with bated breath as Jungkook looks at Y/n with wide eyes, shocked that she’s looking at him so coldly. He barely notices that Yoongi’s looking at her, too, his gaze examining her fondly. Because somehow, even though he knows her better than she knows herself, she always manages to surprise him.

“I think… maybe we should all sit down and talk like real people.” Jin speaks from one of the loveseats, Jimin perched next to him. Y/n doesn’t move when Jungkook doesn’t, refusing to step out of the way until her ex is backing down. And he eventually does, lowering his eyes and moving to one of the armchairs. He’s acutely aware of Y/n pulling Yoongi to the other loveseat, directly across from Jungkook.

“Okay… not totally sure what we’re supposed to talk about, since it’s not like anything’s going to change…” Namjoon speaks from where he half-sits on the ledge of an open window, a joint in his hand. Tae’s standing behind him, leaning on the wall, Namjoon’s back pressed into his chest. The Gryffindor sighs lightly, pinching at the bridge of his nose, and Y/n feels distinctly bad for him -- he’s the one that has to live with Jungkook, and she knows all too well how annoying he can get.

“Look, let’s just start with the facts so that I don’t have to listen to Jungkook theorizing and scheming all night.” Tae’s roommate turns to him, clearly offended, but the bookworm puts a hand up, silencing him before he can even say anything. He looks at the pair on the couch. “How did this happen?” He gestures vaguely to Yoongi and Y/n when he says this, not wanting to outright call them a couple, considering the ticking time bomb sitting in the armchair.

Y/n looks to Yoongi in slight alarm, careful to mask her expression because she knows Jungkook’s watching closely. But they hadn’t had a chance to discuss a backstory, and she doesn’t want them to say any conflicting information. It seems Yoongi has it handled, though, his face perfectly composed as he makes something up.

“Over the summer -- just a drunk night. We decided to forget it happened because it was better for our friendship, but… I guess I just couldn’t.” He looks to her when he says it, almost smirking when he sees the surprise in her eyes -- surprise that he’d made it sound like he was the one who’d caught feelings. She makes a mental note to talk to him about it later, but Jungkook’s already talking, unable to resist taking a jab at the boy.

“That’s bullshit. Y/n wouldn’t just sleep with you and let it go. She’s not a whore like you.” Yoongi finds it funny, if he’s honest, but he knows by the way that Y/n tenses next to him that she very much does not. So he pulls his hand from hers and slides it over her leg, squeezing at her thigh and letting it rest there, his thumb tracing circles of comfort into her skin. Jungkook’s eyes flick down to watch it happen, and when he raises his gaze again, there’s renewed irritation there. Yoongi almost feels bad that he finds the Gryffindor’s anger amusing. Almost.

“Well, I don’t know, Jeon. Maybe if you hadn’t fucked up and dumped her, she wouldn’t have spent the summer with me. Then that drunk night wouldn’t have happened. So… should I say thank you?” Y/n purses her lips and hides her face in Yoongi’s shoulder, somehow both exasperated and deeply amused by his words. Jimin whistles from the couch, not even bothering to mask how entertained he is by what’s happening here. Y/n lifts her head, figuring she should try to ease the tension somehow.

“Look, Jungkook. There’s nothing you can do about this, okay? Yoongi and I are together now, so I would just… appreciate it if you’d let this go so we can rebuild our friendship.” The group nods, finding her words reasonable. It’s the truth -- what’s done is done, so they might as well all move on and find a way to return to normalcy.

“I don’t believe you.” Namjoon throws his head back and groans loudly when Jungkook refuses to cooperate, Jin dropping his head to his hands because they’re really never going to get anywhere like this. Jungkook doesn’t even notice. “You want me to let it go, huh? Almost like you’re just pretending to date so that I will.”

“I feel like that says more about the fact that you won’t leave her alone than anything it says about Yoongi and Y/n.” It comes from Tae, who is clearly getting very frustrated. He’s a man of knowledge, fact. He puts weight in words and sees the world for what it is. So he’s very annoyed at Jungkook’s delusions -- at the fact that he won’t just accept the situation. That, even in a world where he might be right, he’s not seeing that Yoongi and Y/n would only pretend because he’s being relentless and they’ve had to turn to a drastic last resort.

“Prove it. Prove you’re dating. You two hold hands and shit all the time, this doesn’t prove a thing.” Jungkook all but ignores Tae, hyper-focusing on Yoongi and Y/n across from him. Yoongi turns to Y/n with a knowing look, one that says ‘What’d I tell you? Cringey TV shit’. It makes her smile widely, even as she’s reaching to place her hand on the side of Yoongi’s neck, pulling him in. He slides his hand from her thigh to her waist when his lips fall to hers, the action already easier than it’d been less than hour ago.

They can hear the various noises of reaction from their friends -- Jin hums in contemplation as Jimin quite literally starts to laugh, and Namjoon is choking on the hit he’d just taken, Tae whispering ‘oh, okay then’ behind him.

Yoongi presses one last kiss to Y/n’s mouth before pulling away with an obnoxious smack of his lips, winking discreetly at her and smiling when she rolls her eyes. They turn to the group, Yoongi taking her hand in his and pulling it into his lap as he threads his fingers through hers. Their friends seem relatively unaffected, if only amused or intrigued by them, but Jungkook.

Jungkook’s looking at them with hardened rage, because there’s really no way he can explain that one without ending up at a romantic relationship between them. That fact clearly bothers him enough that he’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he looks at them, and Y/n can see the childish malice flashing in his eyes. And she knows he’s about to say something bad.

“Tell me, Yoongi -- are you enjoying my sloppy seconds?” The entire room is standing immediately -- Yoongi because he’s perfectly certain he’s about to put Jungkook in the Hospital Wing, and everyone else because they have to make sure Yoongi doesn’t do exactly that.

Y/n had seen it coming -- had seen the way Jungkook had shut down just before saying it, because she knows what that looks like -- so she’s able to react the fastest out of everyone. Latching onto the back of Yoongi’s shirt before he’s able to get too close to Jungkook, she yanks him back to her, slipping her arms around her waist and holding tight. Jin and Namjoon have moved to Jungkook’s side, hands on his chest to stop him from moving -- because at the end of the day, Jungkook’s the athlete here. He could easily knock someone back if he wants to, so they know they need more than one person to stop him from acting rash.

Y/n slides her hand over Yoongi’s mouth, knowing he completely lacks a filter and not wanting him to make things worse because he’s angry. She pulls him backwards toward the stairs to her room, turning when she gets there and urging him up the steps before waving at the rest of the room.

“Well, this has been great -- goodnight!” And then she’s taking the steps two at a time to catch up to Yoongi, who’s stomping angrily up to her door. He makes his way inside, pacing the room as Y/n shuts her door behind her, and then he’s turning to her, his eyes alight.

“After that, you still won’t let me kick his ass?!” She knows that, if all their friends are still downstairs, then they can definitely hear him yelling. The whole house can probably hear him yelling. She rushes forward, taking his face in her hands and shushing him, because she really needs him to calm down.

“Yoongi, it’s fine. I don’t care, it doesn’t bother me--”

“It should!” He’s ripping his face from her hold, going back to pacing as he pulls at his hair in frustration. She sighs, moving to him again and wrapping a hand around his wrist. He tries to pull that free, too, but she holds tight, so he turns to her with annoyance. “How can you just be okay with what he said?!”

“I’m not. I’m not okay with what he said.” He stops, breathing deeply to calm down when he sees how serious she is. Turning so he’s facing her properly, he waits for her to continue. “I’m not okay with it, Yoongi, but right now I’m more concerned about you.”

“Why? I’m not the one he was insulting--”

“It’s not about him, Yoongi. I will deal with what he said later. Let’s just… go to bed? Hm?” It hurts, what Jungkook had said to her. That he’d called her a cheater over text and then blatantly insulted her to her face. That he’d let his pride get so in the way of his head that he couldn’t see how terrible he was being.

But it’s Yoongi that worries her. Because he’s fiercely protective, whether he’s aware of it or not. Because she knows how quickly his mouth can get him in trouble when he’s seeing red. Because her problems with Jungkook are hers, and she doesn’t want Yoongi burning a bridge with Jungkook over this, no matter how hard her ex is trying to start the fire himself.

So she’s pulling him to her bed, shuffling toward him once they’re both under the comforter. Taking his face in her hands again -- and smiling when he doesn’t pull away this time -- she’s squishing his cheeks, glad to see the way he rolls his eyes. It means he’s calming down, however reluctantly.

“You okay?” He sighs when she asks, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her close. Her fingers move to his ears, where she plays with his piercings, an unconscious habit. Pushing his nose against hers, he doesn’t respond, only searching her eyes.

“Are you?” A small smile, a nod. But he doesn’t find the reassurance he’s looking for in her eyes, so he knows she’s lying. But he lets it go for now, scooting around until he can tuck her into his chest, his chin coming to rest on her head as they drift off to sleep, trying to put this day behind them.

Saturday, 18 September, 3:48am

It’s the shaking that wakes Yoongi up. Not the gasped sob that precedes it, muffled into a hand desperate to keep her quiet. Not the sniffling that follows, tearful and devastated. It’s the shaking — the pure force of the cry that tears its way through her body, jostling the mattress and pulling Yoongi out of his slumber.

Y/n keeps her curtains drawn at night, blocking any moonlight that would have filtered in through her window, so he can’t see her in the dark — not until he’s blinked enough times that silhouettes start to take shape around him. When he notices the shadow sitting at the edge of the bed, he’s sliding his hand across the sheet next to him, almost as if to check that she’s not there, sleeping peacefully beside him. She’s not.

Scooting his way along the mattress until he’s close enough to touch her, he’s sitting up, the comforter falling off of him as he goes.

“Hey…” Yoongi puts his hand on her back to draw her attention, his palm flat against the curve of her spine as he leans over to try to see her face. Y/n jumps, clearly not having noticed that he was awake.

“Shit— did I wake you?” She gives one last sniffle, and he can see her wiping frantically at her face. He doesn’t respond, only moving closer until he can press his chest to her left shoulder, trying to make as much physical contact as possible so she knows she can lean on him.

“Talk to me… please?” He doesn’t need to see when she shakes her head. He can feel it, the way her whole body moves to say no — to shut him out. It leaves a dreadfully bad taste in his mouth, guilt crawling up the back of his neck.

“I’m just gonna... I need to shower.” Yoongi furrows a brow at her sudden remark, pressing his chest closer to her, his face coming to rest on her shoulder.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night…” Y/n moves to stand, Yoongi’s fingers clinging to the back of her shirt until she’s too far away for him to keep holding on. She heads to the bathroom, the sudden flick of the light blinding him for a few seconds. He blinks it away, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and perching there, just as she had. He hears the shower turn on, and his heart aches at the thought that Y/n’s only doing this so she can cry beneath the sound of running water again. The guilt that had been dancing along the edges of his skin flows into his chest now, settling there like a ton of bricks.

He’s so busy staring down at the floor, trying to figure out how to make this better, that he doesn’t notice Y/n’s slowly making her way back to him until she’s standing over him.

“Yoongi?” The Slytherin blinks, lifting his head in surprise at the call of his name. Y/n stares down at him, taking in the way the pale yellow light from the bathroom washes over his features — it shows her the darkness in his eyes, the turmoil sitting there. She reaches out to him, wiggling her fingers slowly until he’s taking her hand in his, waiting for her to tell him what’s on her mind.

“Come with me?” Eyes widening, he stares up at her silently, unsure why she’s asking him this. But he finds himself nodding, knowing that, whatever it is, she needs him. She needs him there with her, so he’s rising from the bed and following her to the bathroom, because — right now, in this moment — he needs her to need him. He’s too scared to think of the alternative — that he’s caused this pain in her eyes, that it’s his fault.

Compared to the bedroom, it’s uncomfortably bright here in the bathroom, so much so that they just stand in the middle of the room for a few seconds, unsure how to proceed. Finally, as if coming to his senses, Yoongi’s looking toward the door, finding the light switch easily. With an apprehensive glance in Y/n’s direction, he moves toward it, setting his fingers on the switch and flicking it down.

They’re bathed in darkness immediately, but there’s a small window on the far wall, one that lets in just enough moonlight that they won’t hurt themselves trying to navigate the room.

Yoongi steps slowly back to where he’d been before, hovering in front of Y/n and waiting for her to tell him what to do. After a moment of nothing, she’s reaching out to him, taking his fingers in her own and guiding his hands to the hem of her t-shirt. She leaves them there, looking to him to continue.

With a nervous breath, Yoongi grasps at the material, lifting the shirt up and off her body as gingerly as he can, his eyes on the wall behind her head. He only glances at her once he can see her crossing her arms in front of her chest, covering herself.

He steps in just enough that he can set his hands on her hips and push at the waistband of her pajama pants, turning away and giving her privacy once she’s able to kick them the rest of the way off, working slowly at his own clothes while he waits.

When his shorts and shirt are pooled on the floor beneath his feet, he’s glancing over his shoulder at her. He can see out of the corner of his eye that there’s no break in the expanse of her skin where her panties should be — she’d removed them while his back was turned. For some reason — and although they’ve been in this situation before — the idea of that makes his face uncomfortably warm.

They make eye contact as he hooks his thumbs into the elastic of his boxers experimentally, but when he sees how her eyes widen just slightly in panic at the idea of him being fully naked — never mind the fact that she’s fully naked — Yoongi pulls his thumbs free, deciding it’s best that he leaves them on.

He waits until she’s stepped past the shower curtain to follow, giving her time to curl into herself again because this is objectively the weirdest thing they’ve ever done, and he’s not sure either of them is ready for him to pretend he’s completely comfortable seeing her naked. She pokes her head out after a moment, hair and face wet, and he knows he can join her.

He’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to be doing here — if he should be standing on the far end of the shower like he had been the only other time they’d done this, or if he’s supposed to be showering, too. After all, it hadn’t been his idea this time.

He’s just about decided to keep his distance from her when he sees her silhouette moving toward him. It’s a lot darker behind the shower curtain, which he’s partially glad for because he really can’t see any part of Y/n that he’s not supposed to, but the other part of him is stressed because he isn’t really in the mood to slip and die tonight.

Y/n’s wet hands find his forearms, pulling him slowly toward her and into the stream of hot water. They’re close enough now that they can see each other’s faces, but she’s dropping her forehead to his shoulder soon enough, arms slipping around his waist loosely.

“Can you help me?” As if running on autopilot, Yoongi’s moving, hands fumbling for the bottle of shampoo on the shelf to their left. Squirting some on top of her head — admittedly difficult since she’s got her face buried in the crook of his neck — he scrubs gently at her hair. Knowing she likes having her head scratched when she’s having a bad day, he rubs the pads of his fingertips against her scalp, feeling both accomplished and like he’s just made a terrible mistake when she shivers and unintentionally pulls him closer, almost no space left between them.

Lowering an arm to the small of her back so she doesn’t fall, Yoongi walks her backwards until she’s fully under the water, where he rinses her hair for her. He’s about to reach for the conditioner when Y/n lifts her head, grabbing the shampoo herself. Pouring some into her palm and setting the bottle down, she meets his eyes before letting her eyes drift up to his hair, now wet from standing under the water with her.

Wordlessly, Yoongi lowers his face to her shoulder just as she had, giving her permission to wash his hair for him and sighing when she drags her nails through his hair. With his eyes shut and the soothing feeling of Y/n breathing against him, he’s left with his thoughts. It’s not long before the guilt is rearing its ugly head again.

“I’m sorry…” Things had been quiet between them, Y/n working at rinsing the soap from his roots, when he’d whispered it. She hears him perfectly, and, although he doesn’t lift his eyes to look at her, she knows he’s waiting to see if she’ll respond. When she doesn’t — only slowing her movements in his hair — he continues. “If I hadn’t started all of this — if I had just talked to you before telling him we were together — then he wouldn’t have…” He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t have to.

Then he wouldn’t have said those things about you. Then you wouldn’t be hurting right now.

“If you’re mad at me—“

“I’m not mad at you, Yoongi.” Yoongi lifts his head now, searching her eyes for any sign of a lie. There isn’t one — he only finds hints of amusement, a smile dancing on the edges of her lips. “I’m not mad at you. I know why you did it — I get why you did it. I’m okay with it — with this.”

Yoongi’s not sure he’s ever felt as much relief as he does now, his body almost deflating from the pent up stress leaving him. Y/n grins when she sees how his entire being untenses, his shoulders dropping as he sighs. Reaching up, she pushes his hair out of his face, almost laughing when she sees how his eyes twinkle with renewed energy. She hums, pretending to think about what she’s going to say next, because there is one thing she’s decided in the last few minutes — in the span of time it’d taken her to see how the guilt of potentially being responsible for her pain had torn at Yoongi. At the only boy in the world who would do anything in his power to never hurt her.

“There is one person I’m mad at, though.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, knowing what she’s going to say but still waiting for the name to leave her lips. “Jeon Jungkook.”

Yoongi feels himself swell with something akin to pride when he sees how the sadness that had been in her eyes turns to anger, almost mischievous in the glint of the moonlight. She continues, eyeing him with an evil grin.

“I think that, no matter how dumb and ill-prepared your plan had been… you really might have done something there, Yoongi.” The Slytherin beams, loving the way revenge looks on her as she stands there in his arms at damn near 4 o’clock in the morning.

“Yeah? You got something in mind?” Y/n hums conspiratorially, a bubble of laughter escaping her as she loops her arms around his shoulders and pulls him closer, because they’re really standing in her shower scheming about how to get back at her horrible ex, like this is normal for them.

“I mean, I just think we could really make this work… We’d just have to work out the logistics of the ‘relationship’, but nothing between us will really change since we’re already so close.” She gestures vaguely down at their current state for emphasis, and Yoongi throws his head back to laugh at how incredibly strange this entire situation is. He nods when he’s done, running his hands up and down her back, hot water flowing over his arms as he wraps them tighter around her waist.

“Well, I know that being naked with someone might not be the most obvious act of affection to you, but to me, there’s nothing better.” Y/n rolls her eyes at his playful smirk when he says it, because at the end of the day, Min Yoongi’s still an idiot.

”So… since we’re clearly in quite the romantic situation here, I think this is the perfect place to ask.” Yoongi smiles when he says it, shockingly sweet given the teasing lilt of his voice. “Y/n, would you do me the honor of pretending to be my girlfriend so that we can tear your dumbass ex-boyfriend apart from the inside out with how perfect we are together?” Y/n snorts, nodding once.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” With a toothy smile, Yoongi lifts his right hand to her hair, playing with the ends of it as he hums contemplatively.

“Should we make it official?” Y/n eyes at him suspiciously.

“Listen buddy, I might be naked right now, but I’m not having sex with you.” With an annoyed huff and a mumbled 'you're an idiot', Yoongi rolls his eyes, grabbing a fistful of her hair and tugging until it’s pulled taut, giving him full control of her head. Leaning in, he angles her so he can slot his lips against hers comfortably, almost smiling when she reciprocates right away.

Yeah. This is definitely getting easier.

Y/n’s arms tighten around Yoongi’s neck as her hand lifts to card her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. She barely notices that the arm he has around her waist is pulling her in, only registering it when she feels her chest press flush to his. She doesn’t even have time to feel embarrassed, though, because Yoongi’s tilting his head, the pressure of his lips on hers suddenly changing.

She isn’t ready for the wet swipe against the seam of her lips, and she hates that she gasps because she knows it’s given him a chance to push his tongue into her mouth -- he’s brushing against her tongue roughly, almost challenging her to fight back. Feeling him smirk against her lips at the victory when she doesn’t, she tries to resist him now, nipping sharply at his bottom lip and snickering into his mouth when he groans.

The laugh in her throat is drowned out by a whimper when Yoongi tightens his hold on her hair until it’s bordering on painful. She doesn’t mind the sting, and she’s wondering if he can tell. That thought goes quickly out the window, because he’s already testing it again, tugging harshly and taking note of the way her breath catches. It had been a game before, push and pull -- but now she just can't think straight.

The fog in her mind masking every form of smart decision-making that she knows, Y/n’s sliding her arms off of his shoulders. Scratching her nails lightly down the expanse of Yoongi’s chest and torso, she smirks when his muscles are jumping under her touch, his breath shaky as he rubs his tongue against hers. And then her two pointer fingers are hooking into the waistband of his wet boxers, and Yoongi’s whining low into her mouth.

He can feel her pulling the elastic away from his skin, and he’s shuffling toward her to close the distance, mostly because he’s afraid she’s going to purposely let go and snap the band painfully back to him -- but also because there’s only one thing Yoongi’s sure of right now, and it’s that his boxers have to stay on. But her fingers are still hooked into the band -- because apparently she’s decided that that’s a good place to rest her hands -- and she keeps accidentally tugging the material down, so if he doesn’t keep up with her, they’re both gonna be in trouble.

Dropping his hands to Y/n’s waist, Yoongi turns her slowly toward the shower wall, his thumbs rubbing heated circles into her skin as he nudges her backward. His brain feels like mush, especially when he accidentally pushes his hips against hers, because she’s sighing into his mouth, and he finds himself wanting to do it again -- so he does. The white noise in his head only gets louder, because she’s whimpering when he stumbles forward, pinning her roughly to the wall as his hips rock into hers. But then she’s gasping suddenly and his heart is dropping, because it doesn’t sound the same as the others.

Yoongi pulls back right away, searching her face in the dark to see if she’s hurt -- if he’s made her uncomfortable. But she only seems shocked, her eyes wide and confused.

Shocked is exactly what she is. Because when Yoongi had guided her backwards into the wall, the cold tile against her skin had made her jump. And just like that, the haze had cleared, the reality of what they were doing -- what they might have kept doing if not for the shock to her system -- setting in. She looks him over, taking in his confusion and only offering a single sentence.

“You’re Yoongi.” Eyebrows disappearing into his hair, the boy’s nodding slowly, like he’s worried about her current mental state. She offers one more line, and this one does the trick.

“I’m Y/n.” Almost like a switch had been turned off, wiping Yoongi’s brain free of his own fog, he’s grimacing immediately, a noise of discomfort leaving him. Because she hadn’t filled in the gaps, but he had.

He’s him, and she’s her. And they… they don’t do things like this. They don’t lose themselves in each other like this. Because there’s nothing there between them, so much so that even the thought of continuing what they’d been doing is bringing a frown to both of their faces. Yoongi swallows hard, smacking his lips in slight disgust.

“Way to kill a boner, loser.” He hisses when she lands a well-aimed smack to his bicep, fully aware that he deserved that. Planting her hand on his chest, Y/n’s pushing him away -- slowly, because the last thing they need is him slipping and trying to explain to Pomfrey how they’d gotten here when he ends up in the Hospital Wing. Once there’s distance between them, Y/n’s crossing her arms over her chest, like that really will do much considering the last five minutes of their lives. She does it anyway, grateful that he has the decency to look away instead of making a snide remark about the futility of hiding from him now. She clears her throat, drawing his attention from where he leans against the wall.

“So -- making out in the shower at 4am was a bad idea.” Yoongi laughs loudly, and the tension between them is immediately dissipating with his nod.

“100%. Cross it off the bucket list, but let’s never do that again.”

Saturday, 18 September, 10:05am

“…ke up… Y/n… come on, wake up… Y/n!” Jumping from the sudden yell of her name, Y/n’s eyes fly open, startled. She turns her head toward the voice that had called her, finding that Yoongi’s hovering right over her. He’s got his lips pressed to the shell of her ear, clearly having decided that yelling right into her eardrum would wake her, because of course it would.

“What?” He pulls away when she snaps at him, looking down at her with a sleepy grin. He’s got an arm around her waist, his body having been curled tightly around hers the whole night. After they’d finished their shower, she’d sat on her bed in her towel for a few minutes, too lazy to get dressed, and Yoongi had thrown one of his baggy t-shirts and a pair of her panties at her face in irritation because he’d really wanted to go to sleep. It’s all she’s wearing, something that had made cuddling much easier since she gets cold at night -- he’s not happy about having his body heat stolen, but it’s only a minor inconvenience if he’s honest.

He sets his chin on her shoulder now, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the smell of him, all over his t-shirt. He wonders briefly if she’s going to start smelling like this new hybrid scent from now on -- if she’d be wearing his clothes more often now. It doesn’t elicit any particular reaction out of him, only a curious hum leaving him. He makes eye contact with her again, seeing that she’s giving him an irritated look, probably because he’d woken her. With an innocent smile, he says--

“‘m hungry.” She shoots him a look, rolling back over onto her side and shutting him out.

“Then go eat.” He pulls at her shoulder right away, forcing her to lean against him again and give him her attention.

“Go with me -- I don’t wanna sit alone in the Great Hall, and we’re supposed to do shit together now! Couple-y shit!” Y/n groans angrily, because now all the sleepiness she’d felt is fading away, leaving her awake and annoyed.

“Dude, it’s a Saturday at 10am, and we just went to bed like 5 hours ago! Go without me!” She’s about to turn away again, but Yoongi’s scooting impossibly closer, pressing his face into her neck and whining loudly -- it’s really obnoxious, and he knows that. It works, though, because she’s sighing loudly, about to give in. But--

“Min Yoongi.” His whining stops, replaced by a confused hum because her voice has an edge to it that makes him feel like he’s in trouble.

“Get your fucking morning wood away from my ass. Before I push you out the window.” Yoongi stills, pursing his lips and shutting his eyes in embarrassment, because he hadn’t even noticed that he’d been pushing the front of his shorts against her backside while he was complaining. Hiding his face in her neck, he’s about to apologize and move away, maybe even resign himself to going to breakfast alone after all -- but then a snort of amusement is leaving him, and he’s staying right where he is.

“Maybe if you get out of bed, you won’t have to feel it anymore. Unless… you want to?” It’s definitely the wrong thing to say, and he knows it, already rolling away from Y/n in a panic because she’s turning to him, her hands curling into fists as she locates her target.

For no less than five minutes, Y/n chases Yoongi around her room, flinging clothes, shoes, heavy objects -- anything she can get her hands on. Finally, she latches onto the front of his shirt, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling angrily on his hair. He yelps, snaking one arm around her and using his other hand to break his fall against her bedroom door, because they’re both about to topple over.

His back slams heavily into the wood, and Y/n can’t tell if he’s crying or laughing, but either way, he’s yelling -- and it’s very unlikely that anyone in the vicinity of her room can’t hear him.

“I had you naked up against a wall last night, and you’re mad about my morning wood?!” Y/n pulls on his hair extra hard, enraged, and he yelps again, losing his footing -- they crash to the ground in a pile of limbs, both groaning loudly. It becomes laughter almost immediately, exhausted and full of disbelief that they’d just spent all that time trashing her room. After a moment of heavy breathing and pained complaints, Yoongi turns to her, an obnoxious grin on his face.

“‘m still hungry.”

“Oh my God, would you hurry up? If we miss last call for breakfast and have to eat in the kitchens, I’m gonna be so pissed--”

“I told you to go alone--”

“And I told you that I wanted you to go with me--”

“We coulda been there already if you hadn’t been all up on me and pissed me off--”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it, babe--”

“Min Yoongi--”

“Ow! Okay, I’m sorry!”

After cleaning up the mess in Y/n’s room, she and Yoongi had gotten ready together, because there would have been no way for her to go back to sleep after that. He had rummaged through the part of her wardrobe designated for his belongings -- it had become convenient for them to keep clothes in each others’ rooms after a couple years, clearly serving its purpose now that Yoongi’d needed a clean outfit.

Still, even with fresh clothes on, it’s obvious that Yoongi had stayed the night -- rather, it’s obvious to Taehyung and Namjoon, who are sitting in the Gryffindor common room doing work when Yoongi and Y/n stumble down the stairs, on the edge of laughter even though they’re bickering. And it’s especially obvious to Jungkook, who’s reaching the bottom of the stairs to the boys’ dorm at the same time -- because he’s stopped at a close enough distance to Yoongi that he can smell the scent of Y/n’s body wash all over him. A smell he’s very personally familiar with.

Y/n chokes on her spit, realizing with a reddening face not only that her friends had heard the conversation she and Yoongi had just been having, but that they had definitely also heard what had happened upstairs -- what Yoongi had said about having her naked up against a wall. Y/n wants to hide in a corner and never make eye contact with them ever again, but they don’t mention it, Taehyung only waving with an amused smile as Namjoon hides his laughter behind a hand. She points at the door to the common room awkwardly.

“We’re… going to breakfast… if anyone wants to come.” The pair of boyfriends shake their heads simultaneously, and Y/n turns her head to where she knows Jungkook is when she sees Namjoon glancing in slight concern over to the boys standing beside her. When she looks, she sees why he might be worried.

Yoongi and Jungkook have yet to say a word or even acknowledge that Y/n had spoken, too busy staring each other down. It’s obvious that Jungkook’s angry, but Yoongi would never back down from a challenge. Y/n reaches out, sliding her hand down Yoongi’s forearm and threading her fingers through his.

“Come on… we’re gonna miss last call…” Jungkook doesn’t tear his eyes away from Yoongi’s when she grabs the Slytherin’s hand, but he’s definitely seen it out of the corner of his eye, his gaze hardening. It brings a smirk to Yoongi’s lips, knowing Y/n’s affection had gotten under his skin. Looking Jungkook up and down with that infuriating curl of his lips, Yoongi only cocks an eyebrow at the Gryffindor before turning to Y/n, pulling her toward the door as he responds, his voice carrying through the silent common room with distinct clarity.

“I don’t mind if we eat in the kitchens, babygirl -- I like being alone with you.” Y/n rolls her eyes internally at how obnoxious Yoongi is, but she can hear Jungkook letting out a restrained sigh behind them, and she can’t help the smug satisfaction that fills her. And when Yoongi glances at her as they step out into the corridor, his eyes dancing with amusement, she knows he feels the same.

Well, this should be fun.

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader

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peeterparkr · 3 years

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red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. ��I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

next chapter

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hyunjilicious · 3 years

Text

a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 2

A/n: I’m sorry it took me so long. I don’t like how this part turned out, at all, but I rewrote it 3 times and I can’t even think about these scenes anymore without getting annoyed. I’m just happy it’s finished and that I can start working on part 3 (that is, if you like this one enough to want to keep reading lol)

Summary: After you post on onlyfans a video starring another man, Henry decides to take matters into his own hands. (cameo: Steve Rogers) KINKY 4k

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mentions of smut and masturbation (male), humiliation/degradation kink, groping, mentions of porn and filming pornographic material, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry. (also tumblr crashed when I first tried to upload this so maybe that a sign this sucks)

You can read part 1 here!

The sight brought down a storm upon Henry's mind. He stood there, mouth agape, watching the screen, unable to believe his eyes. It was one thing to post videos of yourself on the Internet, but to have someone else take part in them was too much. At least for Henry. Still smart and composed, he realised there wasn't anything he could do about it, but nevertheless, he was determined to not let this shit slide for much longer.

As much as he wanted to hunt down that man who dared put his hands on you, Henry gathered himself, took a deep breath and closed the onlyfans page. He was perfectly aware that just the right amount of you could get him to lose his sense of control and do things he'd later regret. Still, in desperate need to see you, he grabbed his phone, eyes scheming over your socials, only to see that the last time you had been active was 7 minutes ago. So, without much consideration, he started typing.

"You up?"

"Yep. Finishing up an essay. Coffee in 30??"

Oh, and how deeply that hurt him. "Of course" he sent you, and then checked again the post you made at 3am. '...I'll go to sleep right now, edit it for you when I wake up...'

You were lying? Why were you lying to him? It drove him insane. Henry felt like he couldn't sit down anymore, like he had no chance to catch his breath. He couldn't think straight, so he wasn't really to blame for what he did next.

Henry's fingers flew over the keyboard, accessing Facebook and logging into your account, desperate to see whether he could find out who the man in your video was. And it was as easy as it could've been, considering your last 5 conversations were with the girl friends he already knew about. But somewhere among them, he spotted an unfamiliar name - Steve R., and instantly clicked and opened the conversation. His blood started to boil when the multitude of emojis you sent reached his eyes, but he scrolled up, until he found the beginning of yesterday's conversation.

It was started by you, and with a request. You were blunt and went straight for it, asking him with just one message to be in the video with you. There was no trace of your relationship with him on the Internet, so Henry had no idea regarding the nature of yours and Steve's connection. Judging by the way you addressed him, he could easily assume the man was nothing more than a fuck buddy. Even though it angered him, Henry kept his calm and decided to go about this with care. It would only be a matter of time until he removed Steve from your life. But for now, he just had to keep digging for information.

Steve R.: "Exactly what do you need me to do, baby? Spank you? In front of the camera? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Steve. Come on!! I know we haven't seen each other in a while, but still... 😇 when it comes to these things, you know me better than anyone"

Henry scoffed. Who the fuck was this guy?

Steve R.: "I know, baby"

Steve R.: "What's in it for me?"

Smoke came out of Henry's ears, and the fact that you acted so sweet and innocent made him want to smash his keyboard.

"Whatever you want! Just do this for me!!! Please!!!! 🥺😊😋"

Steve R.: "Ofc I'll do it, sweetheart. I got you"

"Thank you thank you thank you 😘"

Steve R.: "I should be the one to thank you"

Steve R.: "Send me the location and I'll be over there asap"

After that, your address followed and then that was it. Determined to dig deeper, Henry started to scroll up again, wanting to find out as much as he could about this mysterious man. He didn't get a chance to lurk too much before this computer alerted him of a notification, the onlyfans tab glowing orange. His attention was instantly won, smiling devilishly as he checked the content.

Posted 30 seconds ago, was the new video. Ready to kick back and enjoy, Henry pressed the play button, ready to go at it with an open mind.

He reluctantly accepted the fact that there was another man in it with you, but he decided to enjoy it nevertheless. The video started, displaying Steve seated on the couch, thighs suggestively parted. He had a pair of black dress pants on, dangerously stretched over his massive thighs. A white, elegant shirt hugged his visibly sculpted torso, the top two buttons undone to show just a hint of chest hair. Quite a sight, but all Henry saw was trash. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a silver watch on his wrist and a pinky ring on, Steve patted his thigh, cueing your entrance.

When Henry saw you, he felt his breath reach a new, sudden level of difficulty. With the shortest of skirts barely managing to cover your ass and a mostly see-through shirt on your top half, you made your way to him in such an angelic way that Henry couldn't believe his eyes.

You looked like happiness personified, and it came in such a painful contraction to what you were about to do, that it twisted Henry's mind in such a perverse way, his cock nearly twitched just by seeing you.

When you were about to bend over Steve's thigh, he grabbed your chin and stopped you mid action, his lips slamming against your as his free hand lewdly caressed your ass. He flung the skirt over your hips, your flimsy underwear on full display.

Attentive to the events unfolding on the screen, Henry found his cock, teasingly rubbing it over the material of his pajama pants. His mouth watered when he felt the sensibility in his tip, actually believing this would be easier than he initially anticipated.

"Are you going to be Daddy's good little girl, or do I have to make this fucking hurt?" Steve asked and Henry almost threw up.

"Yes, Daddy. I'll be good" you mewled, wiggling your feet.

"Let's see" the man menacingly chuckled, releasing a sharp slap against your ass that made you yelp out in pain.

At this point, about 30 seconds in that was, Henry was already losing his mind. It was as if you took a trip inside his dreams and decided to play out his fantasies. The only problem was that you did it with another man. It was next to impossible for him to keep this going.

"Can you count?" Steve taunted, his hand traveling all over the back of your thighs, your exposed ass and between your legs.

"Yes, Daddy" you eagerly nodded and Henry almost threw up.

"I wouldn't be surprised if a dumb slut like you didn't know how to" Steve chuckled, "But it's ok, that's how we like our girls. Dumb and pretty"

"Thank you, Daddy"

Henry couldn't believe his eyes. He refused to accept the fact that a random man got to play with your innocence like that. You were his sweet little girl. And if until now he pushed through heroically, when literal yelps of pain started erupting from your lips as the blonde man slapped your ass hard enough to rock your whole frame, Henry's blood ran cold.

But no matter how hard the jealousy had hit him, the video was still pushing his limits of self control. It was still what he always wanted to see. When he reached inside his pants and grabbed his cock, a low grunt of early satisfaction left his lips. He once again found himself picturing you, willing to please him, but this time, he didn't get to go too far. The buzzing sound of his doorbell rang through his apartment, and he never stood up faster.

Cock still hard and completely visible through his pants, Henry slapped the pause button and minimized the browser, before springing to his feet and rushing to the door.

"Henry!" you exclaimed as soon as he came into view. He looked somehow tired, but it was easy to tell there was something else bothering him. "You didn't answer your phone" you pouted.

"Yeah, sorry" he shook his head, a few sweaty curls falling against his forehead. "I was busy with something. What's up?"

You raised your eyebrows and pointed to the door of your apartment, "You said you'd come over? Coffee? Remember?"

"Oh, shit, yeah" Henry cringed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll be over in 10 minutes, that ok?"

"Sure" you beamed, completely oblivious to the way he just tried to get rid of you. With utter nonchalance, you pushed your way past him and strolled into the kitchen.

"You wanna wait here?" he muttered.

"Yeah... Is that a problem? I can leave..."

"No, no" Henry eventually sighed and rushed over to you. He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. "Wait here, I'll be right back"

And that was what you did. You silently sat down, grabbing a bag of chips you found laying around, and settled to wait. And maybe, a few seconds passed where nothing devious came to mind, but as time ticket itself away, boredom got to you. First you stood up, and padded to the hallway, looking around. There was almost nothing new over there, but it still felt so homey you absolutely loved to inspect every detail. The TV in the living room was turned off, a couple of pizza boxes on the floor and his DVD cases laying around - absolutely nothing interesting.

You sighed and plopped down on his couch, folding your legs under your body, ready to flip through the channels on TV until he'd decide to join you. Nothing seemed of interest, being bombarded with news and fishing programs. "Old man" you thought to yourself, before opening up the menu in search for something less depressing. A wave of nostalgia hit you when you came across a Spiderman marathon, and you were done for. Maybe one full episode passed until Henry walked out of the bathroom, but you were nowhere near ready to leave.

"Look what's playing!" you beamed, pointing to the screen. Henry raised his eyebrows in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he softly laughed at your unusual choice of entertainment.

"Are you serious? Cartoons?"

"Yes!" you scoffed, extending your arms and gesturing for him to join you. Although reluctant at first, Henry agreed to sit and watch the show with you, but not before brewing some coffee first.

When he returned from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in tow, you shuffled to the side and welcomed him on the couch. He brought you close against him, draping his arm around your body. With your head resting on his shoulder, you sipped your coffee, eyes glued to the TV. "You seriously never watched these as teen? You were 11 when it came out."

"I did" Henry laughed, rubbing his hand up and down your side, "I was in love with Felicia Hardy"

"MJ was so much better!" you shook your head disappointed, "You have no taste"

"No need for that" Henry threatened, his fingers exploring their way down your body. The way he trailed his hand across your hips and thighs made you squirm, smiling to yourself as you shuffled closer to him.

Henry was more than happy to reciprocate, kissing your forehead and squeezing you tighter.

And just like that, you didn't care about Spiderman anymore. You flung your leg over Henry's lap, all but crawling on top of him. The episode was still playing in the background, but none of you was paying attention anymore. Henry wrapped his muscular arms around your frame, eliciting a soft moan from your lips as you pushed your hips down against his thigh. His hands traveled lower, exploring your body with delicate but greedy strokes.

As you let yourself get carried away with absolutely no worry in mind, Henry knew exactly what he was doing. And considering how easily you let your guard down, he had you right where he wanted.

When you hid your face in the crook of his neck, your nose rubbing across the slope of his collarbone, Henry's right hand found your ass. You froze for a second, but his gentle caress helped you relax again in an instant. With his lips against the top of your head, he allowed his fingers to sink into your flesh. Your whole frame stiffened as you gathered a handful of his hoodie into your fist.

"What's wrong?" Henry cooed, grabbing your chin, "You ok?"

"Yep" you whimpered, and then winced again as he squeezed your ass once more. "I'm good-" you lied, cupping the side of his neck into your palm as you crawled higher up his body, your lips right against his ear.

As weak as he was for you, Henry stood his ground. If you wanted to play this game, he'd do it, but he wouldn't let you win.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, roughly groping your ass.

Jumping slightly from the pain, you still managed to shake your head, blurting out another lie. "... no"

"What about this?" Henry teased, grinning widely as he shoved his hands inside your leggings, under your panties.

The urgency of his touch made your eyes open wide, your back arching as you tried to push yourself off of him.

"Does it hurt, darling?" he continued, keeping you in place with ease.

Defeated, you sighed and lowered your gaze, "A bit" you mumbled.

"Just a bit?"

"Henry-"

"Did he fuck you good?"

Your mouth fell open. "What- no, I didn't- we didn't do anything-"

"Didn’t do anything?" Henry grinned, his perfect teeth showing as he proudly pried information out of you.

"I just... fuck-"

Seeing no way out of this one, and eager to stop hiding, you pushed yourself back. Henry's hands left your body as you sat beside him, and he watched you curiously, patiently waiting for you to word your thoughts. "I just filmed a video for my page, that's all" you bowed your head.

"What kind of video?" Henry questioned.

His demeanour was so relaxed, he was right in his element, unlike you, who were riled up to the extreme. "A spanking video-" you cleared, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Did he spank you good?"

His hand found your hips again, and you leaned into his touch, nodding your head yes as you were too embarrassed to actually word your answer.

"Then show me"

He was dominant and stern, and even if you wanted to, you felt like saying no wasn't an option. Henry didn't wait for your permission as he grabbed your waist and pulled you up to your knees, chuckling softly to himself when he saw you shyly smile down at him.

His fingers curled around the waistband of your leggings, forcefully pulling them down your thighs. "Come on" he urged you, softly guiding you to lay down across his lap, your ass barely covered by the pinkish and slightly unflattering underwear you had chosen for the day.

Henry's breathing picked up at the sight, and so did yours. You watched him over your shoulder, his fingers tracing over the bruises Steve left on your bum the night before.

"Henry-?" you whimpered, the anticipation building up in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear.

"Yes, darling?" he cooed, leaning down to the side to kiss your cheek. His stumble tickled your skin and you whimpered when his hand made its way between your legs.

You felt his fingers against your opening and involuntarily clenched your thighs around him, hiding your face in the cushions of below your head.

"Tell me" Henry pushed, teasing your folds and clit over your underwear.

"Nothing, I-" you cried, making him chuckle.

He loved giving you a taste of your own medicine. He straightened himself up and grabbed your ass into his hands, squeezing until you yelped out in pain. A soft laughter of approval escaped his throat as he bent down and pressed his lips to one of your cheeks, applying lingering kisses over each and every single bruise.

The way he took control of the situation and handled your body, turned you on to no end. For whatever reason, being exposed like that for him, waiting for any kind of judgement to leave his lips, you were getting more and more riled up by the second. You were done for. You did your best not to moan with need, but little did you know that was exactly what kept you from being thrown onto the floor and fucked into oblivion. Just one single sign was all you needed in order to break his self control, but you didn’t have it in you to do it.

But he didn’t say anything, instead just keeping you on your toes as he had his way. You were dripping through your underwear, and judging by the bulge in his pants that pushed up against your belly, you knew he was on the same page as you. But again, he didn’t allow things to go further. Everything about this moment pointed in the right direction - the teasing, the touching, you were all but whimpering in his lap, but he cut the moment short with a sharp slap against your ass before he helped you up. Henry acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened as he pulled your leggings back up, but this glare became colder when he found your eyes.

He bent down and spoke into your ear, "He could've done a better job"

Completely under his spell, you bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't think I would have been able to take any more"

"That's not what I said" Henry shook his head.

"Look at you being an expert" you teased, relishing in the fact that he seemed eager to keep things going.

"All I'm saying is that if you had asked someone else-" Henry laughed, stroking your cheek, "Things would have turned out much more different"

"Oh" you pouted, ready to tease him further. "Who should I have asked-"

Just when you started getting comfortable and confident enough to push things further, Henry's phone rang. "I don't have to take that" he shook his head when he heard you stopped talking.

"Just see who it is" you giggled, slapping his shoulder.

Before doing so, Henry grabbed your chin and kissed your forehead, his touch drawing you in like a magnet as you leaned into him when he pulled away. With a sigh, you eventually crawled off his lap and then your face fell with disappointment when Henry showed you the screen of his phone.

"Yeah?" he huffed after picking up, his boss being the last person he wished to talk to right now.

You watched him closely as he listened to whatever the man was saying, and almost whined out loud when Henry frowned annoyed.

"I'll call you back in 5, ok?" he asked and after a couple of seconds hung up.

"I'm so sorry-" Henry sighed, turning to you, "I gotta go take this, there's a problem with one of the radars, I need to go see if I can fix it remotely"

"Sure thing" you shook your head. "But please tell me you don't have plans tonight"

"I don't" Henry leaned towards you and again, kissed your forehead. As much as you loved the sweet gesture, it was now more than ever that you craved something else entirely.

"And please don't forget about me again" you giggled, grabbing his biceps and stopping him from leaving without a promise.

"I won't" he sighed, "I'm really sorry about that. I'll make it up to you"

"However I want?" you beamed and licked your lips.

"Absolutely" Henry smiled, sweetly embracing you before walking you to the door.

You had his word now, and you were planning on making it count. There was no way either you or Henry would act as if nothing had happened, and you couldn't wait.

Once alone and seated at his desk, Henry opened up the text editor associated with the code he wrote months ago. When his screen was flooded with errors and his chat popped up with three different messages asking for help from his colleagues, Henry all but yelled out loud in frustration. Not only did he wish to be with you, it was also Sunday, one of his days off. But he couldn't just text the pilot of the plane whose radar went berserk and tell him to wait. So he got to work, determined to get this done as soon as possible.

But unfortunately, that 'as soon as possible' turned into 3 hours of continuous work. He didn't even stand up to go to the bathroom until he made sure everything was on point. It was about 4pm when the program started running smoothly again, and seeing how he had a few more hours to waste until he had to see you, Henry decided to make the best of them, by getting a head start on his tasks for the following day.

Productivity flowed through his fingertips as he solved the first issue he had been assigned for the day to come, getting ready to start working on the second one when a call caught his attention. He didn't recognize the ring tone, and it only dawned on him that he was still logged into your facebook account a couple of seconds after it stopped ringing.

Still curious, Henry switched the tabs on his computer, noticing that the chat with Steve, which he left open hours ago, showed that there was an ongoing video call. His jaw fell. Henry tightened his hands into fists, fuming with anger. First as you for doing this, and then at himself for allowing you to believe this was an ok thing to do. He knew there was no way to eavesdrop on your conversation even if he had the password, but that didn't mean his curiosity died down. No, it only grew stronger.

He felt lost for a minute, but then he thought of something. On his dresser, right next to his winter gloves and under his favorite jogging hat, laid an extra set of keys. Henry remembered the day you gave them to him, saying something along the lines of 'I feel much safer knowing that if something were to happen, you could always get to me, Henry.' and then remembered how you stuffed them in his pocket, and kissed his chest before stepping back. Such different times.

There was no trace of hesitation inside his mind as he grabbed the keys and made his way out of his home. He passed the hallway in less than a second and pressed his ear to the door. It was perfectly quiet, and through the peephole, he couldn't see any light. You weren't in the kitchen or living room, so he felt confident enough. After putting his phone on vibrate, Henry ever so gently pushed the key inside, turning it inside the lock with the most meticulous movement his wrist could muster. The sound of the door knob being turned was so faint he barely even heard it, but his pulse skyrocketed when he heard the click that signaled the door was finally open.

With small, careful steps, he made his way inside. The entire apartment was dark and quiet as he made his way in, stopping just outside your bedroom as the relaxed, deep voice of a stranger became audible through the wall. “Trust me, sweetheart. Just relax, I got you. You’re all tense, I can see it from here. You know I have more experience with this than you do, just do as I say”

With one hand on the doorknob of your bedroom, Henry was ready to put an end to this whole charade. He knew he might regret it later, but he didn't care. The image of a so called friend, pushing you to do anything that you seemed to have clearly stated your discomfort about, flipped a switch inside his brain. There was no stopping him because no one, no one got to push you around like that. Not while he could do anything about it.

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