#being told to stay behind? having his feelings and any advice he would've offered just ignored? being left without any way to make contact?

[microsuedemouse]

the fact that Danny literally has to walk out of the room when Steve makes the decision to go rescue his mother... lordie. he cannot cope with this. he's watched Steve put his ass on the line for Doris several times already and every time she repays him by being shady and keeping secrets and taking off and ultimately not being a mother in any way no matter how much she claims to want to. and he just doesn't know how to handle this happening again, let alone all of it going down in circumstances where Steve has to go completely no-contact with the team. Danny can't even go with him and watch his back this time.

not to project, gang, but there's just. so much happening in Danny's tone and on his face in that moment. "it's your mother; you're gonna do what you're gonna do."

#after the 8-weeks-later mark with Junior talking about how he couldn't stand not knowing whether or not Steve was alive #and then Danny trying to stop the team from doing anything when June finds Steve... #he's SO mad. like. #idk if the show's gonna give him the opportunity to actually express that #but at this point in the episode... the only way to read it #is as the absolute. silent. untenable fury of a man who feels that the person he loves most in the world #is risking his life for someone who doesn't deserve it #and is also stupid enough to demand that he do it alone. #Danny would have been mad if Steve asked him to come but he would've GONE and he would've HELPED #being told to stay behind? having his feelings and any advice he would've offered just ignored? being left without any way to make contact? #that breaks his fucking heart. and he doesn't know how to live with it except by being livid. #H50 tag

[artmnson]

take on me

“i'll never be him, but let me love you like i am. as if i could be him.”

SUMMARY. the nights feel lonelier since you walk through them alone. fortunately, steve has never left your side. one night in particular, he lets you know that, in fact, he never will. never ever.

PAIRING. steve harrington x female!reader (brief eddie munson x female!reader)

WARNINGS. s4 spoilers! mentions of death and family abuse i guess? NOT PROOFREAD.

WORD COUNT. 2.2k+

NOTES. how do i feel about this one? not good but not that bad either, seemed better in my mind 😭 hope you like it! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! have a happy reading and thanks beforehand for the support <3 more to come soon, i swear!

you look to your side. steve's sleepy figure huddled in front of you as he tries to battle sleep. you half smile, you tried to tell him more than three times that he could sleep if he was tired. true to his stubbornness, all three times he replied that he preferred to stay awake, keeping you company.

if someone told you a few years ago that you would end up saving the world more than twice with steve harrington by your side, you probably would've sent to hell whoever said that. yet here you are. the same person you used to hate is now on the other side of the bed, humming your favorite song to distract you from the memories of the events that rocked hawkins once again. you're not complaining, over the years you managed to discover that there's something more behind that bad boy image that steve gave to the people around him. as incredible as it is, you struck up a great friendship.

steve's a good boy. you see it every time he takes care of the kids like his life depended on it, you see it in every advice he gives robin about how to approach any of the girls who catch her eye, you see it in every look of patience and caring that he gives to max, you see it in the way that he accepts that nancy is better off with jonathan than with him. you saw it in the quick way that he accepted and helped eddie munson until the last day of his life.

you can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times you saw him cry. the most recent was that week when nancy broke up with him in a hilariously cruel way. tears fell from his eyes like cataracts. you came to believe that he wasn't going to be able to recover from it. he did. the last time you saw him cry was a couple of nights ago when he offered you his chest as shelter after you woke up from one of the nightmares that has plagued you for months. he wept silently, believing you were asleep. you weren't. hearing that made your heart clench and you wondered if it was worth doing all he was doing for you. you were never brave enough to confront him about it, nor did you have the strength to do so. lately, you have no strength at all. just sadness.

five months ago, your life changed forever. hawkins' well-being was forgotten the moment you took his bloody body in your arms. the tears that welled up in his eyes had nothing to do with fear or regret, they were tears of sadness knowing that he had acted to save a city that'll probably never know the truth about him. his heroism acted accordingly in an attempt to show that he was something more than the riddled words and looks he received at school, on the streets, everywhere he walked. as he cut the rope that linked your world with the upside down, all he could think was that chrissy cunningham's death couldn't have been in vain, that he had to do something to avenge the soul he saw being disfigured. he tried to be a hero. he was. as he left, he took every part of you with him, leaving you empty and helpless. almost like him, dead.

“hey...” you hear steve's tired voice. your eyes focus on his face. his hair is disheveled and his eyes will give way at any moment. one of his hands is under the pillow, the other acting as a barrier between your body and his. “aren't you sleepy?”

you laugh weakly. “shouldn't i ask you that?”

a half smile spreads across steve's lips, used to you answering one question with another. his eyes scan your face, he knows how tired you are. you cannot, however, allow yourself to close your eyes. if you do, the nightmares would come back, and it wasn't in you to try to fight them. his heart turns a sad blue as he sees the sadness permeating the surroundings of your face. wherever you look, there is it. he can't help but feel guilty at the thought that he would give anything to make you love him like you used to love him. he knows that it's impossible, that his departure left a hole in your being that will never be mended, but he prays with all his might every midnight to win a place in your heart. he doesn't want to supplant him or be the nail that pulls out another nail even if he is, he wants you to give yourself the opportunity to love and be loved again, to live again, to laugh, to enjoy.

before eddie's death, before the demobats attack, before the tragedy, munson made steve promise to take care of you, that no matter what or how, he was going to keep you protected from the clutches of any enemy who tried to disturb the peace of the city again. no one knew what was going to happen better than eddie, probably because he had run through the scenarios in his mind a thousand times on the way to the trailer that would transport you to the next dimension. eddie wasn't your boyfriend -- at least not officially. anyway, your well-being came first for him. he loved you, without a doubt. unfortunately, his fears were stronger than his love. he didn't want to hurt you, drag you into a life you didn't deserve, make others automatically categorize you when they saw you holding hands with him. he couldn't take away the life of your dreams. so, he remained silent, waiting for the day that love would disappear from his heart, not knowing that that day would only come on the day of his death.

steve undoubtedly agreed when eddie spoke those words. no matter what, you'll take care of her, eddie said. steve nodded, asking no questions or questioning his decisions. the task of taking care of you had been amended to him. even knowing that was what his mate had asked him, he still felt miserable remembering the jolt of happiness that ran through his body when he saw the lifeless body of eddie munson.

screams from outside interrupt steve before he can speak. with his brow furrowed, he asks. “who's screaming like that?” the voices become increasingly noisy, causing him to get up from your bed and stick his head out the window in search of the owners of such a scandal. “what the hell? it's almost midnight.”

unlike steve, the screams of the conan family don't bother you. you're used to them. every night at midnight, matt conan, the father of the family, uses his time alone to get high and work up the courage to be the man he can't be in the course of the day. he beats his children, mistreats his wife, all under the influence of strong substances. history repeats itself every night. over time, it became a routine to wake up thanks to the uncontrollable cries of the pair of siblings who have the misfortune to carry the blood of matt conan. “it's mr. conan. leave it alone.”

steve looks at you in disbelief. “there are children crying. we can't leave it.”

you roll your eyes. “yes, steve, i hear it. i hear it every night. they cry now but in a couple of minutes they'll be quiet. leave it alone.”

“oh, so this happens every night?”

“yeah, most nights,” you reply between huffs.

eventually, steve returns to his side of the bed. your gaze is still on him, you know he can feel it. for some reason, however, he can't bring himself to speak. the truth is that he doesn't know what to say. his thoughts are far from the conan family or the living hell those children must go through, he can only focus, however clichéd, on the shine of your hair and the softness of your lips. he never kissed you, he has only dreamed of doing it. there are many things he wants to ask. will you ever get over eddie? will you ever move on? will you one day give him the chance to love you? he doesn't have the answer to any of them, and it makes him desperate.

“what's the problem now, steve?” he hears you say.

“sorry?” he replies stunned.

“what are you thinking about?”

“i-i…” he stares into your eyes. the resplendent darkness has conquered every corner of your pupils, dark circles make your face look like you're sick. in a way, you are. you find it exasperating not knowing if one day you will improve. to steve you still look beautiful, and that's when he wonders if he ever felt for nancy what he feels for you. he loved nancy, of course he did, and he's sure nancy did too. only nancy was never you. “nothing important, sweetheart.”

the nickname sends chills down your spine. steve has been doing a good job of making it difficult for you to want to disappear from the spotlight of the citizens of hawkins. the first month after eddie's death was absolute hell, you slept during the day and cried at night. you lost a large amount of weight. all without drawing anyone's attention, or so you thought. before the end of the month, steve showed up at your door. i gave you the time o thought was right to give you, you can't keep killing yourself, not when you still have something to fight for, he said. you laughed in his face when he finished speaking, everything you thought was worth going on for was left in that dark world. you yelled at him to go away, that you didn't need him, that you wanted to rot in your misery. he didn't care. that night, you wept silently in steve's arms with his hands stroking your hair until you finally fell asleep. that night, you understood that there was no way to turn back time, only to let it continue.

steve was very supportive. he accompanied you through endless nights, he wiped your tears, offered you hugs that knew how to fix every open wound after a nightmare. he drew stars around your scars. something inside you stirs every time you think of him, every time you have him close. you want to know what it feels like to be loved by him, only fear wins you over. you don't want loving him to mean forgetting eddie because that's something you know you'll never achieve. eddie left a mark on your soul that will accompany you everywhere. so, why do you feel like you betray him every time you smile at steve's meddling in your thoughts?

“you know you can tell me anything, steve,” you insist.

“not this,” he mutters, thinking you wouldn't get to hear him.

“and what is that, exactly?"

steve's eyes fill with tears. suddenly, it's like he forgot to speak. the words don't come out, a lump forms in the middle of his throat. he wants to cry, kick, scream that he loves you, save you from yourself. his fears are incredibly big, almost the same size as his love. he can't tell you what he's dying to scream. his mind, however, is not tied to his heart. the threads of sentences fall from his lips inevitably.

“i know i'll never be eddie. i'm not trying to be like him, or replace him. i know it still hurts that he died, that it'll probably hurt forever. but I can't help it. i can't help but love you. i'll never be him, but let me love you like i am. as if i could be him. please. please."

steve's confession leaves you speechless. his lower lip trembles and his chest rises and falls in agitation. his eyes that hold his tears look sad, dull. his hair is messy, perfectly messy. you bring a hand to his cheek, your thumb caressing his soft skin. he closes his eyes at the contact between his skin and yours. small, lonely tears fall on his eyes. your heart breaks. for him, for eddie. for everything.

“you're asking me something very difficult, steve,” you whisper.

“i know,” he replies with a breathy voice. “i know.”

your caresses leave his cheek to touch his lips. you slowly approach him, closing your eyes as you go. his breath hits yours, blending into rhythm. you kiss him gently and lightly.

“if you're willing to wait, we can get there,” you propose.

mr. conan's screams are no longer heard. the night is quiet, sleepwalking. a sense of belonging, of warmth, settles in your heart. you loved eddie, you always will. he spent his life making you happy. eddie will always be remembered by you as the hero of hawkins no matter what anyone else thinks. eddie loved you, and he would've wanted to see you happy even if he wasn't by his side. you love steve, and you have him here and now. it'll be a tediously long process, but you're willing to get there.

“take on me,” steve says. “as much as you want. i'm here.”

steve is willing to wait. it's worth a try.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington scenarios #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season four #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things angst #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #joe keery

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

For anyone confused, (Y/N) was around 17 when he fought the Avengers and was taken in and now he's 18-19. Lowkey a filler to develop/show (Y/N)'s relationship with Laura and Clint

~

You stared up at the large wooden house, a soft breeze blowing by that made you tugged down the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing. Clint turned off the engine of his motorcycle, looking up at you. You furrowed your brows and turned towards him, glancing at the darkening sky.

"What is this place?" You asked, watching him curiously Clint stood beside him, gazing fondly at the house. He looked at you with a gentle smile.

"My home."

"Home?"

"Yep, home. The only other people who know about this place are Fury and Natasha." Clint revealed, making your brows raise. You looked back at the house. It was homey for sure. Far from the city with nature surrounding it. A perfect place to raise a family and live a quiet life. You bit your bottom lip, gently wrapping your arms around yourself. 

"So, why’d you bring me here?" You asked. If it was such a big secret that not even Tony or Steve knew about it, why would he share it with you? You weren’t even part of the team. You were just a child that they had to take in. Clint placed a gentle hand on your back.

"You need some fresh air and a break from the shit back at the tower. Come meet my wife and kids." Clint said, walking towards the house. You slowly followed, still unsure about the whole thing. You didn’t know why Clint trusted you so much. Not even a couple weeks back, you had attempted killing him and the Avengers. You had heard Tony mention Clint having a habit of taking in strays so you assumed you were just another person Clint wanted to help. The aroma of food filled your senses, making you let out a soft hum. Clint had heard it, chuckling as he stepped into his home. You followed, noticing the pictures on the walls and scattered drawings. 

"Laura, I’m home!" Clint called out into the house, following the light from the kitchen. You noticed some legos laying around, looking up as a woman approached Clint and greeted him with a kiss.

"How was work?" She asked softly, smiling. You could see two kids looking at you curiously from the table. Clint smiled back at his wife, gently stroking her long hair. 

"It was fine, honey. I brought a guest." Clint motioned towards you. Laura looked at you, humming softly. Her smile widened as she faced you.

"You must be (Y/N). Welcome to the Barton Farm." Laura giggled softly, placing a hand on her belly. Your gaze dropped down, noticing her barely visible bump. Laura followed your gaze, chuckling softly.

"We’re- Well, more like Natasha is hoping for a little girl." Laura smiled, glancing at Clint when he placed a gentle hand on her bump. She looked back at (Y/N), motioning to the table. 

"Come join us."

You walked with Laura to the greenhouse, glancing over at Tony and Steve as they talked.

"How was your first mission?" Laura asked, smiling widely as she gazed at you curiously. You were supposed to go on a mission when your training was complete but nevertheless, it had been quite exciting. You smiled, looking forward.

"It was.. Good. It didn't go as planned, obviously, but there wasn't much of a plan to begin with. Clint's definitely holding a grudge against the runner." You chuckled, opening the door to the greenhouse and stepping inside. Some new flowers had been added.

"I don't blame him." Laura said, giggling as she pulled up a chair. She sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. Laura rested her hands on her belly, watching you with a gentle gaze.

"The girl.. The girl made Hulk lose his shit and made the others see stuff." You told her, picking up a pot with a venus flytrap inside. You gently ran your finger over the plant, watching it open.

"Did she get to you?"

"No, I.. I stopped her before she could do anything to me. Natasha seemed pretty shaken up by what she saw." You looked back at her, frowning softly. You had never seen Natasha look so broken inside. Whatever she had seen, it had definitely triggered some bad memories. You wondered what Wanda would've made you see. The orphanage? The fight with the Avengers?

"Clint mentioned you had to work on your people skills." Laura recalled, laughing softly as she tilted her head. "What's that about?"

"I might've choked.. A few people."

"Might've?" Laura repeated, raising her brows. You placed the pot down, letting out a soft sigh as you stared down at the venus flytrap.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Laura asked softly, noticing the change. You gently pushed the pot back into its spot beside the other plants, shrugging lightly.

"Not that long ago, I was in their spot. Wanda and Pietro.. Two young metas trying to survive. With my powers, I could have seriously injured someone and-"

"But you didn't, did you? We're all standing on this plot of land, living and breathing." Laura stood up from the chair, holding onto it as she regained her balance. She walked towards you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You were a frightened kid on survival mode. You were doing whatever you could to protect yourself." Laura said, gaze softening.

"Obviously, I could never hurt Thor or Hulk but... I almost crushed and suffocated everyone else. Tony had to work on his suit, Natasha and Clint had bruises for days.. Steve did that weird staring thing like a fucking camera whenever I was in the room." You reached forward, running a finger over the leaf of a plant and watching it grow.

"Look at yourself." Laura motioned to the plants. "You have full control of your powers. You know your limits. You're.. Mother Nature's son! Like, almost literally her son."

"I'm your son." You muttered, keeping your gaze on the plants. Laura stayed quiet, almost frozen in place. She slowly smiled, nodding as she blinked away tears.

"Yeah.. Yeah, you are. You're my son. You're a Barton." Laura said softly, sniffling softly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm gonna go see if Stark is willing to check out the tractor. Holler if you need anything." Laura said, turning around. She left the greenhouse, walking back towards the house. You thought about her words, knowing what she said was true but things could've gone differently if you had been in full control of your powers during the confrontation with the Avengers. Clint had still offered you support despite it all.

You brought your knees close to your chest, hearing the sounds of the Avengers grunting and talking on the floor below. The overgrown vines in the abandoned building wrapped around the corner you were in, providing cover.

"Hey, kid? You up here?"

"Barton, what the hell are-"

"Shut up, Tony." You furrowed your brows, hearing sluggish footsteps on the floor you were at.

"This isn't the greatest hiding spot, kid." The voice, 'Clint', had gotten closer. He was most likely standing infront of you, the vines being the only thing keeping you from seeing him.

"Look, I know you're scared. I know the orphanage probably wasn't great either, but we can help you. I can help you. You can trust me." Clint assured softly. You swallowed, reaching out and touching the vines. They parted, letting you peer up at Clint. He offered a tired smile, extending his hand to you.

"You just made Laura the happiest woman alive." You turned towards Clint, chuckling softly. Clint pushed himself off the doorway, stepping inside.

"Must be nice to finally feel happy for once." You replied, grinning.

"Oh, trust me, you should've seen her face when I proposed." Clint chuckled, looking over the greenhouse. He hummed.

"Maybe I should get into gardening." He muttered, arms crossing as he looked over the different flowers. You watched him.

"You'll be busy with missions."

"I don't plan on sticking around for long, if I'm honest. I want to retire and be with my kids more. The hero life isn't forever for some people. Keep that in mind, (N/N)."

"You're gonna leave the team?" You asked, frowning. You knew Clint had been thinking about it. Especially with a third kid on the way that would come at any moment.

"I got lucky but.. The thought of leaving Laura alone with three young kids, a barely legal adult, and a big plot of land.." Clint sighed, shaking his head as he gently tapped his finger against the table.

"I don't want to be an absent father and miss out on big achievements. I owe it to Laura and you guys." Clint explained softly. You understood. None of the other Avengers were parents yet. Clint dying meant fatherless kids and a widow. He had a lot more to lose.

"I'll always be here if you need advice or more training. I just won't be on the field with you." Clint placed his hands on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze before he leaned in and gave you a hug. You hugged him back, eyes shutting. You weren't sure how you'd be on the field without Clint there to support you. Being beside him brought you comfort and reassurance.

"You'll be an amazing Avenger, (Y/N). I know it." Clint whispered, leaning back and smiling softly.

"Will you be my number 1 fan?" You asked with a grin.

"I'm afraid the top three spots are already taken but I'll happily be your fourth biggest fan." Clint laughed softly, turning his head when Laura called for him and you.

"Come on, let's see what the boss wants." He said playfully, turning around and walking out. You followed, noticing Nick Fury standing on the porch. He gave you a nod before entering the house.

"What's he doing here?" You asked, looking at Clint. Clint shrugged, letting out a deep sigh as you walked up the steps.

"We're about to find out."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #avengers x y/n #avengers x you #marvel #marvel x male reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #clint barton #clint barton x adopted reader #tony stark #natasha romanoff #maximoff twins #steve rogers #bruce banner #thor

[mooniefics]

— a life in your shape

pairing : jean kirschtein / reader

word count : 2.5k

tags : unrequited love, pining, near death experience, confession of love, hurt no comfort lol

warnings : canon-typical violence, descriptions of injury to the reader

summary : you've always wanted it, always pictured it, always ached for it. you loved when jean looked you way. all you'd ever wanted was a life with him, not just a life in his shape.

— originally posted 1 / 22 / 21 on ao3 —

the mess hall was buzzing with life, rowdy with the chatter of dozens of cadets seated at long tables and speaking through swallows of their food. glasses were lifted and set down, bowls and plates clinking, utensils scraping sharply over various surfaces, nearly so loud that you could barely hear yourself think. but it all seemed to come to an abrupt silence when you settled your eyes back on him, taking in his formerly pale complexion now bronzy and sun-kissed from your hours of training, the annoyed yet playful glances he shot to connie and sasha as he worked through his soup and bread, full lips forming words that you couldn’t quite focus.

you were almost embarrassed of how smitten you were with jean, but in your mind, you couldn't understand how anyone wouldn't be taken with him. his thin frame had filled out with lean muscle in the year and a half that you'd been training together in the 104th corp, somehow managing to grow even taller than he already was on that first day, still so spirited with his persistence to be among the best of this class, a lively spark that never seemed to dampen gleaming behind his eyes.

"oh god, this again, jean?" you heard connie bemoan exaggeratedly, pulling you from the trance that you were surprised the other three at the table hadn't taken notice of.

jean was almost pouting now, and you would've found it so endearing had it not been the next words to spill from his mouth, indignant and full of tenacity. "don't be an ass, i've been trying to figure out a good excuse to sit with her for days now."

you followed his gaze despite knowing exactly who you'd find his eyes locked on, and forced yourself not to frown when you were met with the sight of mikasa just a few tables away.

"she's out of your league, man. not to mention having a thing for jaeger already, and not to mention that jaeger wouldn't hesitate to hand your ass to you again if you pissed him off like you always do. cut it out."

"connie, that's mean!" sasha feigned offense on jean's behalf, most likely for the sake of goading the reply that came as a distraction to snatch the remainder of bread from his plate.

"i'm just being honest with him here. he's asking for advice, so i gave him some. jean always talks about being realist and yet he— hey is that my food?!"

you turned away just as connie was lunging himself across the table, hearing the sounds of his fruitless efforts to tear the loaf from the girl's mouth, propping yourself up on your elbows and allowing your head to fall into your hands with a heavy sigh.

"what do you think?" in an instant, jean's eyes were on you, amber irises looking so intently at you that you could already feel a bothersome heat flushing your face. but registering his question sobered you, and stealing a glance at the beautiful dark-haired girl seated somewhere to your left was all in took to snuff out the light flutter in your chest.

"i don't know, jean. i think connie's kind of right about the whole eren thing." you were honest with him on a surface level, but it still didn't feel good to see him frown when you told him something he obviously didn't want to hear. you tried to remedy it by offering something more introspective—something a bit more true to your heart. "what i mean is that.. i think you're selling yourself short. mikasa obviously has her sights set elsewhere at the moment, and i just think you deserve someone who can bring the same sort of.." you struggled with your words for a moment, how could you not when he was leaning forward like that, listening so intently to you and you alone. "the same sort of passion. someone who can reciprocate." someone like me. but you bit those foolish words back.

"you understand, don't you?" he implored, looking past the bickering mess that sasha and connie had devolved to and gazing with such longing in the other girl's direction, "i mean.. i've never seen anyone like her, no one as beautiful.." each word gouged at your heart, a cold, empty sensation that left your chest feeling painfully hollow. "i know you're a girl, but you can see it too, right?"

you could see it, you were painfully aware of how you could never match up to her unfamiliar yet alluring features, that graceful, slender frame that could somehow soar through the air with ease and still thrown you down onto your back so hard it would knock the wind out of you, introversion that gave off such a charming air of mystery to her admirers.

"yeah," you mumbled back, ignoring how a huffing connie fell heavily back into his seat beside jean, defeated, sasha happily gulping down her unfairly earned chunk of bread, only taking notice of how jean was too fixated on mikasa to pay your dismay any mind, "i see it alright."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the air was thick with an unrelenting heat, stinking of steam and coppery with fresh blood, your vision fading in and out. your head was ringing with a deafening, high pitched peal and such an unbearable, crippling pain. you could feel your boots dragging across the hot dry dirt as something tugged you back by the collar of your shirt, and the terror of a titan with its misshaped limbs and mouth hauling you to your demise made you thrash aimlessly, screams for help spilling out as a disjointed groan of pain. and though it almost sounded as if you were underwater, sinking further and further beneath the lapping waves of your impending unconscious, you heard it, muffled, desperate, thick with tears, your name spilling from his lips.

and suddenly you remembered, you remembered the kidnapping and the unfaithful comrades and the mission to save humanity's last hope, your former friend now an almost unrecognizable abomination with ymir, bertholdt, and eren sitting atop his shoulders, clasped in his monstrous hands, that had now resorted to flinging titans in his primal desperation for escape. and as you blinked away the spots blacking out your vision, head lolling uselessly to the side, you could see your horse, half crushed in a puddle of red on the yellow grass, and realized that the warmth streaming down the side of your face is your own blood.

"jean..?" you mumbled, uselessly, barely coherent, but the near sob of relief from behind you is like an anchor back to reality.

you could see his calves on either side of you, feet kicking up clouds of dust as he pushed you both back, further from the fray and carnage, as far as he could muster. one of your blade scabbards was missing, you could feel that the clip on your gas tank had snapped off in your spectacular fall caused by the titan that was flung down in your path, irreparable damage most likely made to the fine mechanisms within the housing of your gear. you felt utterly hopeless, watching as the shade of a tree just barely shielded you from the blazing light of the sinking sun, hearing jean's gasping pants from behind you, feeling how rapidly his chest was rising and falling against the back of your head as you slumped into his body, leaden limbs weighing you down uselessly.

"jean." you wheezed, trying desperately to crane your heavy head back to meet his eyes one last time, eyes that no longer harbored the naive passion of youth but still gleamed so radiantly, "leave me.. here. you're g'nna— gonna die.. if you stay..."

you could feel his violent trembles now, feel him rip his green cloak from his shoulder to press against the throbbing wound on your head. "no. i-i'm staying. i n-n-need," he was scared, you knew he was terrified of allowing what happened to marco to happen to you, or sasha, or connie, or anybody, even if the boy's death was nowhere near his fault, "i need to s-save you."

but you could also feel something else—feel it coming—the terrible, earth trembling footfalls of a titan making a shambling, uncoordinated advance to you and the scent of your blood. and suddenly jean was screaming, a sound so raw and petrified that you couldn't help but cry yourself at the sound of it. he laid you down on the ground, bunched cloak pillowing your bleeding skull, unable to push himself to his feet but still drawing his last blade to swing at the thing coming to kill you both, covering your battered body with his own.

and in that moment, you hated yourself. though your head was swimming and your lucidity was waning, you knew that you would both die there, under the baking sun and in the jaws of a titan, and it would be your fault. every regret that you'd ever harbored flooded your mind: not hugging your mother long enough when you still had the chance, not drinking that liquor when squad leader hange had offered it to you, and, most of all, never having the bravery to be honest with jean.

and you mourned all that lost time in those final moments, every late night you'd spent as trainees under the stars when you and your friends would sneak out of the dormitories to talk at some ungodly hour, every shared meal where you didn't speak nearly enough to him, every second of the crushing embraces you'd offered each other when the thought of your fallen friends caught up to you and proved to be far too much to handle on your own. how could you have done so much yet so little with your life?

and just as the titan was stumbling upon you, jean's scream of terror dampening out into a faithless cry, the thing was gone, galloping away to join a newly assembled horde descending upon one single point on the plain. but somehow, you felt no relief, not as you reached out a weak, trembled hand to grasp the blood and dirt streaked fabric of his shirt.

and as he turned to you, eyes still wide and body shaking with horror, thrumming with the adrenaline of near-death, you whispered, hoarse and tired as your grasp on the world slipped away. "i love you, jean. i love you."

your eyes fell shut, the involuntary spiral down further and further into the deep waters of unconsciousness pulling you in deeper and deeper by the second. you were grateful that you at least got to say something meaningful as your last words.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

there was a bright light, delicate, billowing fabric flouncing about in your bleary gaze as your eyes barely opened, something wrapped tight around your head, not making the pressure of the pounding headache any better. you couldn't fight the groan that even the small movement of turning onto your back caused, but you tried to force your lids open just an inch more at the sound of a gasp coming from somewhere in the room.

there were fast footsteps, a few shouts of "sasha, no!" and then a crushing weight on your chest, squeezing around you, pulling you up in bed as a tearful sob of your name came from a comfortingly familiar voice.

"sasha. please. h-hurts." you barely managed to croak out, feeling yourself been torn free—or rather, her  torn away—as connie yelled.

"get off them, you moron, they're fucking injured!!"

"i'm s-s-sorry!" she wailed, allowing herself to be dragged to the door by the disgruntled boy, "i'm j-just so happy you're s-s-still alive!!!"

"and i am too, but that doesn't mean i'm gonna go throw myself on top of them while they're in the hospital!"

their bickering was almost comforting in a way, allowing the strain in your chest from sasha's hug to ease as you watched them elbow each other in the sides on their way out of the room to take their loudness out into the hall, blowing raspberries and struggling to not laugh through their feigned anger. and finally your gaze was allowed to wander over to the furthest wall from your bed, and you saw jean, staring down at his shoes, brow furrowed and lip bitten. and he seemed almost startled to find yourself in his gaze, feet slowly taking him to your side.

"i owe you my life, you know?" you said as he settled himself on the edge of the mattress, still not meeting your gaze.

"you don't owe me anything. you shouldn't feel in debt to me."

"but i do," you risked to settle your hand over his, finally drawing his worried, amber eyes onto yours, and you could feel your heart beginning to pick up, the butterflies that you had always forced to settle with a pessimistic thought to squash your optimism light in your chest, "i meant what i said before i passed out in the field. i always have."

and for just a moment, you thought that this was finally it, that you would no longer have to languish over wasted time and wasted words, fingers just barely curling around his warm palm. then, a knock at the door, light and delicate before the handle turned, pushing open to reveal mikasa.

and you caught every small movement of jean's features, the way his eyes sparked with a familiar light, the sudden, faint flush of color across his slender face, lips parting and just barely perking up at the ends. an endless, unwavering adoration.

"eren is awake, if you'd like to talk to him." that was all she had peeked in to say, but jean was still gazing at the door for a moment too long after she'd left.

"u-um.. if you don't mind—"

"go ahead." you told him, gently, pulling your hand away, retreating as far as your body could into the mattress, under the covers, turning your gaze away.

and though he'd slowly, almost nervously exited your room, you could hear the clear pick-up in his pace as soon as he'd shut the door behind him and exited into the hall, probably rushing to try and catch mikasa for a moment alone in the hallway before he had to share her attention with everyone else.

and it hurt, like a blade buried between your ribs, being jerked and twisted with every memory of his affinity, the one that was never directed at you despite how you craved it. and you'd realized that you had melded a life in his shape, a life where you were always just a few steps too far behind, hand outstretched, reaching for him as you hurried to grasp at any minuscule opportunity to be with him, speak to him, hear his laugh and see his near blinding smiles that never seemed to last long enough to you.

but, perhaps one day, someday farther into the future. and if not then, maybe in another life.

#jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirstein x you #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein angst #jean kirstein angst #snk x reader #snk x you #aot x reader #aot x you #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

[thefreelanceangel]

Rain pattered against leaves, pelting down through the branches, but the slight overhang of stone above her kept Chessi relatively dry. The tent provided more shelter from the weather, but she'd never slept in one before and waking up, it'd been stifling. Used to being out in the elements, Chessi found the trickle of cold water down the back of her neck refreshing and familiar.

He still wasn't awake, the flaps of his tent firmly closed, and Chessi couldn't help glancing at it, time and again. She'd had no idea what to expect when Lulu's wife had burst into the small cabin that Lulu had only begun to show her the details of. Had known even less when C'allie had thrown clothes at her and told her to reach the Quicksand post haste.

All she'd been told was to talk to "a guy in white and one in reddish armor." Not why or about what, not for how long or what was expected of her.

...but she'd not refused. With all the kindness Lulu had shown to her, Chessi would've willingly walked through fire to please her, and that extended to obeying the Keeper's wife.

Now, a day later, out near the southern border of Coerthas in the Black Shroud with a man who she'd not met more than twenty-four bells prior... Chessi couldn't sort out what to think or how to feel.

Elated, yes. Gale seemed unbothered by her rampant stupidity, had complimented her on finding dinner, hadn't been overtly exasperated by her questions or annoyed with her unfamiliarity with the concept of 'proper camping.'

Nervous, also yes. Others had promised not to ask her to leave. Others had offered advice, acted nice, been friendly and patient for a time. And then, after answering her questions, dealing with her inability to think as quickly as normal people did, scowling at her answers to their questions... well...

Chessi knew it really was only a matter of time before he became impatient and annoyed by her. All she could hope for was that perhaps he wouldn't be so annoyed that he'd tell her to leave. Hope kept her going many days that she couldn't really bring herself to let go of it, even now when there was... painful evidence that perhaps... it was the type of idiocy that she'd been trying to suppress her entire life.

Les vanishing wasn't an issue; he'd often just upped and gone without telling her. Chessi knew how to keep herself fed, knew to deliver all the crates of liquor waiting, to put the gil in the box he used expressly for that purpose and to stack up the receipts to let him match it, coin for coin.

She didn't know what do when his absence extended into two whole moons. Or what to do when people came with official-looking paperwork, saying Les was a year or more behind on taxes (which she had only the vaguest concept of) and that the house was being taken for non-payment.

They'd taken the gil she'd so meticulously put into the box. Taken her clothing, all of Les' belongings, all of her belongings and told her to return in a fortnight to hear their decision on whether or not she'd be allowed to keep living in her shed.

And she especially didn't know what she'd do if Les stayed away. Or... Or if something had happened to him.

Her mother hadn't survived the birth of her second brother. All of her siblings had died very early on. The Calamity took her father. Les was the only blood relative Chessi had. One person in the world that claimed her as his own, as something related to him and if he was gone...

Chessi wiped her eyes, tears mingling with rainwater, and hugged her knees to her chest. She didn't know what Gale meant to teach her, only that he'd graciously offered to waive any apprenticeship fees, had outfitted her with clothing, a bow, camping gear. Had spoken kindly to her, praised her cooking and not been overtly impatient with her when she asked too many questions.

All she could do was try to be as smart as possible, which she knew in her heart to be a failure before she'd even begun, and hope the way she always had.

Hope that maybe this time she could have a life that had people in it. Or even a friend.

#Chessi Eder #Apprenticeship #FFXIV #IC Moments #Hyur #Midlander #Screenshots

[ripspaghet]

bff | 05

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 |

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 4,702

Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: angst, swearing, alcohol, mentions of smut, cheating

The very next day the weather finally starts to lighten up. The sun is out with not a cloud in sight, although the air is still chilled. You've become eager to get back to your classes. After having Jimin take care of you a full day, you feel you might murder him. He's been teasing you constantly, trying to feed you like you a helpless baby, and let's just say you didn't really appreciate it. Still, you thank him several times over, promising to make it up to him, which he's sure to take full advantage of.

"Party? This weekend?"

You sigh, kicking a rock as you walk along the corridor, leading to your next class, "Why does it always have to be a party with you? You never even hang out with me when we go. You ditch me for those two idiots of yours."

"As I recall when you first met one of those idiots you called him hot and said you'd-"

"Okay!" Your panicked tone reaches an all-time high, not wishing to recall your first impression of a particular frat boy.

Jimin laughs at you and stops walking just before reaching the lecture hall, "So, you'll go with me?"

"As if I have a choice."

"Great! Tae said he-"

"____? I heard you were really sick." Mina approaches the two of you, her boyfriend not too far behind her, his eyes already fixed on you. Great.

You watch as he comes up closer to Mina, placing his arm around her waist and pulling her into him as his gaze bleeds into yours, "Glad to know you're feeling better, ____." 

His cold voice makes you shift your eyes away immediately, your face turning a shade of red that's starting to become all too familiar.

"Yes, I made her all better. Didn't I, honey?" Jimin leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, which you respond to by pushing him away and slapping him on the chest.

"Don't put your lips anywhere near me."

He frowns and whines as you turn away from him, "Why? That's not what you told me to do yesterday."

"Are you drunk? Stop making stuff up and get to class." You don't bother turning around this time, heading into the lecture hall.

"Yah," You hear Mina slap Jimin, "what did you do to her?"

"Ah! S-stop hitting me! She's been like that since yesterday, it has nothing to do with me!"

The rest of the week carries on relatively fast, as you do nothing but study and go to your classes. Anytime Mina, Jimin, or anybody offers to hang out you decline. You haven't been in the mood and your reasoning was that same indecipherable feeling that still burned in your chest. Your nearest guess was that it had something to do with that damn piano Yoongi made you sit at, last Sunday. Bad memories resurfacing is enough to put anyone in this kind of mood, right? You can't even be bothered with the dozens of missed calls on your phone. You hadn't spoken to him in a year and you weren't about to break that record when simply seeing his name light up your phone filled you with dread.

"You're still coming?" Jimin raised an eyebrow at you, utterly surprised.

"I'm standing in front of you fully dressed and ready for a party and you're asking me if I'm bailing on you or not?"

"It's just, you haven't been in the brightest of moods this week. I thought, maybe you were having second thoughts."

You roll your eyes and push him out of the doorway so you can shut the door behind you and lock it. "Since when do you care if I have second thoughts about a party?"

"Since you don't seem okay," He whispers this time, a genuinely concerned expression dulling his features.

You put your arm around his and try to pull him along only to have him stop you, "I'm fine. Let's go have fun."

"Did someone break your heart, ____?"

You swivel your head back around, "What?"

"I don't know?" He scratched his head, "You seem so different lately. I mean you just said, 'Let's go have fun.' Normally, you hate being dragged to parties. You complain the whole time and ask me to take you home every five seconds."

You laugh and raise an eyebrow at the ridiculous assumption, "So, you think someone has broken my heart, simply because I'm taking your advice to have fun?"

"You-" He's cut off when your phone goes off. You pull it from your purse and quickly reject it.

"Telemarketers." You lie.

Looking at you seriously Jimin sighs, "I'm just worried. I don't want to take you to this party and you get super drunk and do something stupid cause you're sad." 

With a sigh and nod, you speak with an understanding ton, "I appreciate that you worry about me Minie, but I'm fine. I've just been stressed lately because of exams. I want to blow off some steam."

He looks at you hesitantly before nodding, not sure if he should believe you or not.

Jimin really is such a good friend. He genuinely cares so much, even for the smallest of things. But, despite what he thinks, this isn't your first time indulging in a party like this. Back when you were a freshman all you did was go to parties. Which is, for the most part, what made you hate them so much. You always did dumb things and alcohol didn't make your decision-making skills any better. You'd even started a pretty bad reputation for yourself, that you erased through the years of becoming a shut-in.

After arriving at the party Jimin led you to the drinks and the two of you had at least two full cups together before you decided you wanted to dance. The logical part of your brain was screaming to go home before doing something you'd regret, but that stinging feeling in your chest demanded it be fed and you didn't want to feel it anymore. You sure as hell didn't want to hear your anxiety ramping up because of it, so you drank just enough to null the noise.

You pull Jimin towards the dance floor, taking him by surprise, and making his drink sloshing in his cup, "Wait, I-"

"Since when does ____ dance?" A husky voice interrupts the two of you, making you turn your head, "Or know how to have fun for that matter?"

Tall, tanned, and handsome to the point of being downright beautiful, stood in the doorway of the kitchen watching you with an unreadable expression is Taehyung. You have to force your mouth shut to keep from gasping at the sight of him. Any other day, you'd duck your head and run at the sight of him - although, unfortunately for you - you've already consumed a hefty amount of alcohol.

"Whole new ____, right?" Jimin smiled, composing himself before patting your head and, to your surprise, making you jump.

"I'll say," Taehyung looks you up and down, "she's even dressed for the occasion."

"____, how about you go dancing with Taehyung? I promised Kookie I'd be his bodyguard tonight and I can't leave him hanging forever."

You glance up at Jimin then back at Taehyung. Again, under normal circumstances, you never in a million years would agree to dance with Taehyung, knowing damn well where it'd take you. You'd also be curious and confused as to why Jungkook would need a bodyguard, but - for like the billionth time - these weren't normal circumstances and all you did was nod.

"Just don't stay gone all night. You promised you wouldn't ditch me this time." 

Jimin laughs and pats your head endearingly again, "Sure thing, honey."

You reach up and pat Jimin on the cheek, returning the gesture by smiling brightly up at him. His eyes widen, not expecting you to return the teasing gesture, "Have fun, honey," 

"W-who are you?" Jimin's cheeks flush pink, but you only laugh before leaving him. You take Taehyung's arm in yours and he looks down at you with the same stunned expression, "Show me your best moves, Tae."

Excitement quickly replaces his awe and bubbling up in his eyes at this whole new side of you, "Yes, ma'am."

You pull him to the dance floor with you and once there you let your body do the talking as you move rhythmically to the best that vibrates through the house.

Taehyung just froze, his lips parting at the sight of you.

You're unable to contain a giggle at the sight of his dumbfounded expression, "What are you doing? Dance with me." You grab his hands and pull him to you, swaying your hips from side to side. 

Taehyung follows your instructions and begins moving with you, his hand moving to your hip as he leans in closer, "Since when are you not being a buzzkill?"

You pout your bottom lip at his use of words, "I'm not a buzzkill, I just haven't been in the mood up until now."

Taehyung laughs at your whiny response, his eyes falling on your lips, "You know? I never understood it before, but now it all makes sense."

"What does?"

"You and Jimin, I thought the two of you were complete opposites before and it didn't make any sense to me why he follows you around like a lost puppy." You move your hands up to his biceps and rest them on his shoulders. Your eyes urging him to continue, "The two of you are a lot more alike than I thought. You just bury it deep, while Jimin wears it on his sleeve."

You tilt your head, "And what exactly is it that I'm burying?"

"That thing that could get anyone into bed with you any time you want." He leans in, his deep voice sultry.

"Are you saying that only me and Jimin have that? You don't have it?"

"Well, obviously not. Otherwise, I would've had you in bed with me the day we met."

You shake your head and smirk at him. Might as well play along with him. "How do you know that it just doesn't work on me?"

"Tell me," He leaned in closer, "if Jimin were to seriously try fucking you - you wouldn't you be inclined to say yes?"

Your cheeks flush his use of words and the mere idea of them, but you laugh it off as the effects of alcohol starting to kick in, "Even if I were it would never be anything more than that, so I'd turn him down."

Taehyung pulls back, surprised, "Why?"

"Jimin is my best friend and like I said, sleeping with him would never be anything more than sleeping with him. I know that's the case for me, but I don't know if that's the case for Jimin. Whether he says it is or not, I couldn't trust what he says. If he felt differently, he would say whatever I wanted to hear, not the truth."

"Are you implying that he might fall for you? Because I think it's a bit too late for that." He chuckles and this time you roll your eyes.

"Me and Jimin find each other sexually attractive, but there's no romance. It's just friendship. People can easily mistake a great friendship for romance. I mean, even great sex can be misleading."

"So, what's the deal-breaker, huh? What is it that you and Jimin don't have?"

You stare at him for a moment, wondering to yourself why he's so interested in your relationship with Jimin before answering him, "There's no fire. No passion or pull between us."

His eyes flicker at your words, "You're not secretly in love with him and just pulling my leg, right?"

"What?" You burst into laughter, "Why is this so important to you?"

Taehyung's face stays serious as it flickers with something akin to lust, "____, when did you get so alluring? I thought you were an innocent virgin."

You try to bite back your laughter at his ridiculous statement and serious face. Surprisingly, he isn't all that good at flirting. His looks more than made up for what he's lacking though as his eyes have you leaning in closer. You put your lips next to his ear, your excuse being, so you wouldn't have to yell over the music, "I'm only alluring when I wanna allure someone, that doesn't make me a virgin."

"Really?" He put his other hand on the small of your back, "Does that mean you're trying to allure me right now?"

You frown, pulling away from him, "Trying?" 

His eyes turn dark at the loss of contact and he reaches to bring you back to him, but you only move further out of his reach, a smirk pulling up your lips, "If you want me, come and get me, Tae." 

He moves instantly, a smirk playing on his own lips as he follows you through the crowd of sweaty bodies until you're out of it and heading up the stairs of the frat house. You know exactly where you're leading him, but you weren't one to proudly admit you'd done this before. And if you were in your right mind right now you wouldn't be caught dead doing this again, especially with someone like Taehyung. Although, the closer your body gets to him the further the burning in your chest gets. It's fading into the background, just like you want.

You let him catch you at the top of the stairs and he wraps his arms around your waist, "What are you up to? Don't you know where these stairs lead?"

"I'm not sure. You wanna show me around?" You play dumb, preferring Taehyung not have any clue of your past endeavors.

He pushes you against the wall, hands roaming on your sides, "How drunk are you?"

"I've only had two or three drinks." Your breath catches in your throat when he lowers his mouth to your neck. Your hand moves to his hair and you close your eyes, savoring the way his teeth feel as they softly nip at you.

"So, you won't be mad if you wake up naked next to me in the morning?" 

You gasp as his tongue runs up the length of your neck, "I won't."

He hums softly in your ear before picking you up by your thighs, making it so you have to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to a nearby room and shuts the door behind him with his foot with - what appears to be - practiced ease. It doesn't bother you all too much though, seeing as you were only doing this to distract yourself, to begin with. You want all emotional baggage to be left at the door, or thrown out a window at this moment. You don't wanna think.

Taehyung drops you down onto the bed in the center of the room and you can't help but giggle as the force of the fall makes you bounce.

"Fuck," He smiles at you infectiously before lunging forward, his hands and lips devouring you, "you could easily make any man fall in love, ____."

A sharp throb stabs through your chest at his words, your smile falling as a distinct pair of dark eyes cross your mind. His hands move down your thighs and squeeze, pulling them apart to settle between them. Too lost in the remembrance of lingering stares and innocent touches, you don't even realize where your imagination has taken you as he presses his thigh against your core, coaxing a desperate moan out of you. Your eyes flutter shut as you let your arousal take over, pale fingertips run along your sides, his dark hair tickling your skin as he marks your neck, and his usual calm and gravelly voice growls as you mewl with desire.

"You sound so pretty." Just then his lips press to yours, his tongue running along your lower lip. 

Yoongi.

"Stop!" You push Taehyung off of you, panicked and breathless.

"What? What's wrong?" Taehyung sits up at the end of the bed on his knees, confused by the sudden rejection.

"I-I'm really sorry about this, but I need to go." You scramble off of the bed, fixing your clothes and hair.

Taehyung's quick to get up and follow after you, "Did I do something?"

"No, I-" You squeeze your eye's shut and shake your head in disbelief. Sure, you've fantasized about people before but never against your own will, let alone about your best friend's fucking boyfriend. "I'm not in the right head-space right now. I-" You pause glancing back at Taehyung, "You didn't do anything wrong."

He places his hand on your waist, "____, don't go. We don't have to do anything. We can just cuddle?"

"I need to go."

"What happened to you last night?! Why are people telling me they saw you going upstairs with Taehyung?! I never saw you for the rest of the night!" You wince pulling your phone away from your ear.

"I know, I'm sorry, okay? Could you stop yelling at me and let me explain?"

"Since when do you wanna fuck Taehyung?! I thought you hated him!"

"Jimin,"

"Alright, fine, let me hear your excuse."

"Last night I just wanted to have fun. It was nothing serious and I don't hate Taehyung. I just don't particularly like him or how he normally treats the girls he messes around with."

"Wha- You just wanted to have fun? Nothing serious? Where is the real ____ and what have you done with her?!" 

You roll your eyes, "I didn't even sleep with him. I walked out before things got that far."

"You walked out?" Jimin pauses, "Wait, why? What did he do?"

"He didn't do anything. I just-" Your eyes shift around your room nervously, "I wasn't as up for it as I thought I was."

He clicks his tongue, "____, the player. Never thought I'd see the day."

"Are we done now? I need to go."

"Go? It's Saturday. Where are you going? Oh, don't tell me you're going to finish the job!?"

"Goodbye, Jimin."

"No! Wait-"

You stand up from your bed after ending the call than walk over to your closet to sift through your clothes. You spend about thirty minutes doing that before groaning in frustration. What are you even doing? Normally, you'd just throw on the first thing you saw and head out the door.

You know what?

That is what you're doing.

You close your eyes and reach into your closet, grabbing the first thing you touch. This is fine, you tell yourself before shrugging off your pajamas and putting on the baggy hoodie with a pair of sweats. You then make your way back to your bed and grab your phone, you're heading to your door when you stop. You pull your hoodie up to your nose, smell it, and sigh before turning back around. It doesn't stink, in fact, it smells good, like freshly done laundry - but something about it annoys you and you refuse to leave with the boring smell.

Once you're finally satisfied you hurry out of your dorm and start in the direction of Yoongi's penthouse. So many factors are yelling at you to turn around and go back home, but you refuse to listen. Your pace even picks up as the tall building comes into view. 

Message from Min Yoongi-8:59am: Why are you so late??

You-9:05am: I'm here

You step out of the elevator, your nerves getting the better of you as you hesitate to knock on the door. You really shouldn't be here. You should be anywhere but here. As you're contemplating just turning around and leaving, the door swings open to reveal a very irritated Yoongi.

His hair is neatly combed through and shorter than when you last saw him, although it still hangs just slightly above his eyes.

"Why the hell are you so late?" His words are blunt, as usual, but that's not what makes you avoid his gaze. It's the images that pop into your head from last night that make you stare at your own two feet in petrifying embarrassment, thinking, maybe he can read your mind if you look at him.

"Sorry, I don't really have an excuse." Your voice comes out small, making it so Yoongi has to lean in to understand you.

He furrows his brow and sniffs the air as he does, then raises an eyebrow at you, "Is that perfume?"

Your eyes dart up to his face and you blink at him several times, "What?"

A smirk pulls up his lips, "Are you wearing perfume?"

"No! Why would I be wearing perfume?" You panic, confused as to how to respond to this.

"I don't know, you tell me?" He leans against his door frame and crosses his arms over his chest smugly. You can't help but let your gaze linger, finding everything he does far too attractive for someone who's supposed to be his girlfriend's best friend. 

You shift your eyes away from him shamefully with a frown and push past him, feeling your cheeks warm-up, "Can we just work on the song now that I'm here?"

Yoongi hums and turns around to face you, shutting the door as he does, "It smells nice. What is it? Vanilla?"

"J-just shut up." You walk away from him towards his couch to sit down before pulling out your laptop. 

"You know?" Yoongi startles you as he leans onto the back of the couch behind you, "You still haven't listened to that part on the piano I've been slaving away on." He speaks in that same condescending tone he used over the phone when you were sick, only this time it doesn't make your blood boil, it makes your stomach turn.

"I never said I wanted you to do that."

"You also never said you didn't, so I did." You feel Yoongi tapping his finger against the couch impatiently, a clear sign he's starting to get annoyed with you.

"Well, go play it." You bark back in a whiny manner, wanting the subject to just go away, "I'll hear it from here."

No, you wouldn't, you planned on covering your ears.

"____," Yoongi says your name firmly and your whole body goes rigid. Your imagination is running off with you again. Of all times, seriously? "stop acting childish. I need you to sing the part while I play, to get a good feel of how it will sound."

You shake your head, actual panic setting in as you finally stand back up, turning to face him, "No, I don't want the piano in the song."

"Why are you just now saying this? I've been working on this all week."

"I-I-" You frantically scour your brain for an alibi, "I just don't wanna!" You cringe at the stupid excuse and watch nervously as Yoongi narrows his eyes at you.

"Are you six years old? Come on," He starts to walk towards the hallway.

"I don't like the piano! Okay?! Can't you just leave it be!" You scream, the sheer terror you felt finally emerging in your voice and shocking Yoongi to a halt. Tears began streaming down your face rapidly. You probably looked ridiculous, crying over a damn piano, an object that couldn't even physically harm you, but you're unable to control your tears.

"____,"

You drop your laptop onto the couch and without saying a word you rush back around the couch and past Yoongi, heading for the door. Hoping he won't follow, you slam the door behind you just to hear it open again a second later. 

"____, stop!" You push the elevator button several times, urgently praying that it gets there soon while you try your best to quell your inner trauma, "We don't have to include the piano. I can find something else."  You stare blankly at the elevator doors, "Hey," He reaches for you, his hand landing on your shoulder. 

You jerk your arm away and when you speak it's barely above a whisper, "Just leave me alone."

He watches you for a moment before hesitantly bringing his hand up to your face, turning you to look at him. You let him wipe your tears before pushing his hand away, "Fine, I'll take the stairs."

He stops you, grabbing your wrist, "Are you seriously angry over a fucking piano? What's next? A harmonica?"

You let out a dry laugh, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Alright," You yank your wrist away from him, "I'm done with this. Don't expect me to show up here anymore." You head ticks to the side before you turn on your heels to take the stairs, "I'd rather fail."

"Yah, ____!" You ignore him, but you can hear him following you just before his hand grabs yours, stopping you in your tracks again, "You-"

Your phone cuts him off, ringing loudly, and filling the thick air around the two of you. You pull your hand out of his, ignoring the way it makes your skin tingle. You reach into your pocket for your phone and reject the call, knowing exactly who it is without looking at the caller ID.

"Who was that?" Yoongi leans toward you, trying to get a peek at your phone, but you push him away by his chest.

"It's none of your business." 

He doesn't respond, his hard eyes just glancing down at the hand that's now against his chest. When Yoongi gets close to you - you can't think properly, so the further the better, but when he lifts his eyes back to yours, you realize that the physical contact is much worse than the lack of space. 

Your face blossoms with color and you quickly try to yank your hand away, recalling where your mind took you last night. Yoongi is quicker though as his fingers wrap around your wrist. You hold your breath, praying that he can't hear how loudly your heart is beating as his eyes bore into yours. All you can do is stare back, unable to move, say, or do anything. It's like he's a magnet and you're metal.

He moves in closer until you can feel his minty breath against your lips and you inhale sharply when his long fingers gently graze against your forearm. Unconsciously, your hand fist his shirt, your eye's still refusing to leave his intense ones as he begins to close the space between you, "Do you want me to stop?"

Your other hand moves up to his shoulder, gripping tightly as if willing yourself to push him away, but it's as if all your strength has left your body and you can't. His hand moves up to your jaw, his thump caressing your flushed skin, and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. It's nothing like you'd imagined, completely different. He's way more intoxicating.

"If you want me to stop, all you have to do it say so." When his lips move you can almost feel them brush against yours from the close proximity - the space between you disappearing as his lips meet yours and any ounce of logical thought leaves you. You helplessly lean into his warmth and he hums in response. Heat pools in your stomach at the sound and your fingers move through his hair, nails softly grazing against his scalp. It's like the part of you that knows how wrong this is has evaporated. It isn't until his tongue swipes against your bottom lip that you feel yourself fall back to reality.

You pull away from him like you've been burned, noticing the tears brimming in your eyes only after the fact. The longer you look up at Yoongi the more hysterical you become. 

"I-" He stops, his eyes falling on your neck, "Where did those come from?"

"I-I need to leave." You push past him just as the elevator doors open, ignoring the simmering rage you caught in his voice as it made you feel like someone had just tugged on your heart.

"____-"

"You have a girlfriend, Yoongi!" Your second outburst of the day causes him to flinch and pull his hand away from your arm, "I'm leaving."

You want to throw up, bang your head against a wall, and reprimand yourself on how utterly stupid you are all at once. All you really do wis click the button for the first floor though, while avoiding looking back up at Yoongi.

"I'm sorry."

That's the last thing you hear before the doors close and the elevator begins carrying you down.

.

.

.

a/n: plz go easy on me this is my first time attempting any form of smut and i had to rewrite it several times cause it made me a lil nervous 😖👉👈

@team-work-made-the-dream-work @seokchella @crackhead1-800 @chogiyeol-utopia @thatchampagnebitch  @jeonchan26

#yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi au #min yoongi #mina twice #bts angst #bts x reader #bts #bts imagines #bts jimin #bts rm #bts taehyung #taehyung x reader

[atendersun-archived]

Eyes fluttered opened and closed with the male staying silent until the other was finished speaking. " Mmm, but it seems like all these feelings you're holding in are hurting you more than they would be hurting you if you just let them out. " In any other settings, he would've tried to wipe away the tears of anyone that were crying - or at least he wouldn't be without his tissues - but unfortunately he was. " My dad told me holding in even the littlest things will only buildup until you explode .. aha, hearing that as a little kid kinda scared me. Oh! He also told me how it could led to poor health and an early death. " Taking a beat to think and gather his thoughts, the dancer blew a raspberry before reaching out to poke Muu's cheek. "Discounting your feelings for the sake of whatever is only gonna invalidate your identity and sense of self.. and y'know prevent you from achieving your personal goals, no? "

If Cairo wished to keep his hands, it was probably for the best had he not attempted to wipe his tears for him. He'd have likely tried to get in at least one playful but not bite in there had he been made aware of any hands going to touch near those areas of his face. In all of his years as himself, Muu knew that crying was often how his system regulated itself through situations it deemed stressful, or disheartening, and denying it that opportunity to let out that energy out enough for his brain to process why it was there in the first place was just a big disservice to himself. His other complaint would have been that while he may have been an incredibly sensitive individual, he did not like to lessen his pride when it came to being consoled in certain regards.

At times he'd stated that he could take care of himself during a fit similar to the one he was in the midst of, that was admittedly more for the benefit of setting himself up to be seen as less of a burden than it was a true proclamation off the emotional strength he swore to have. Yelling out what was bothering him rather than allow it to fester until it had no choice but to come out in sobs each time he spoke about things probably would have been a much healthier way of expressing himself; however, there were so many hurtful phrases left behind by people that had come and gone through his life all stacked up on top of one another that it would have been an extensive process all on its own to work through them enough to even think about raising his voice in a social setting. Seeing other people yell was something he considered to be very frightening, but he'd have felt something even worse than that had the sounds been coming from his own lips.

Through his sniffling, as well as through the crankiness building within himself as it moved further to the surface to reveal itself the second be felt a warm digit gently press into his face, Muu tried as best as he could to verbalize what he was dwelling on at a volume that was more within his comfort zone.

"I'm just a little mad, because.. I am missing lots of people that used to be around, like Akatsuki, and really needing them through these things. And it hurts a little bit that they aren't coming, cause it.. it reminds Muu of not only when lots of them left without looking back cause of me, but of what it felt like to need them through the worst. I'm getting real tired of big feelings, Cairo. And of big words.."

Rubbing the back of his own hand against a lid that was already growing dry on its own, he thought about how he didn't quite understand everything the younger was offering to him in advice. A need for sleep was growing heavy as brows furrowed over eyes that could barely keep themselves open for much longer, while lips pulled apart for the sake of a yawn were pursed together to form a pout that lingered until he spoke once more.

"Cairo, I don't think I even have an identity. My friends say that my personality isn't even one at all. That's it's only just a lot of tiny trauma responses standing on each other like rats in a coat. I may just have a lot more kind of healing to go before I'm more than just an overthinking product of neglect and abuse, but.. I also hold a lot of a value to my faith that I'm gonna get there on some day. Mainly cause there's better people around this time. Kinda like you and my friend Yukio, I think."

#angstiism

[ladyinfierno]

That last one was delightful thank you I 100% would've sent one sooner if I could make up my mind on what to send in, but yay here I am! However..I don't know what ship to pair with this so good luck: 4[/ 5] and 94 (bonus points for lesbians)

Ahhh thank you! ;w; Don't worry, I'm a bit slow filling these prompts anyway :) Also I'm assuming this is for Hetalia, by the timing of the ask

Coffee shop/Bar/Restaurant AU + Hair brushing/Braiding - SpAus

I've been slowly falling in love with this pairing and they came to mind instantly.

Note 1: I know the fandom has Isabel as Spain's name but I'll call her Antonia too because I want people to call her Toña affectionately, there's no other reason behind this decision, please and thank you. María Isabel Antonia Fernández Carriedo, ajúa :v

Note 2: I know Austria has names from Anneliesse to Lieselotte, I'll call her Ro because I'm not well versed in Austrian names and don't want to spend two hours in baby name pages trying to decide.

- First of all: I always imagine Spain making killer desserts in whatever universe there is, so of course we'll start with Antonia being the proud owner of Malagueña, a small bakery/coffee shop that has the best hot chocolate and torrejas combo in the city. Probably the only one, but still.

- The place is small, with a couple tables outside and a lot of potted flowers. It opens early and the owner can be seen sweeping the front of the store still half asleep but dedicatedly. It's only a matter of time until a small line starts forming at the counter, from all those other working souls seeking caffeine to go through their days.

- There's three other people working there divided on morning and afternoon shifts, since the three of them are students and Antonia is flexible with schedules. A Belgian girl studying photography, a Belarusian maths student whose recipe for nalistniki landed her in cooking duty immediately and the high school punk girl with green eyes and big eyebrows that’s really good with beverages.

- Lunch is always the busiest hour of the day, since they're surrounded by small companies and some schools, so she takes cashier duty while helping make orders between customers.

- Then, like clockwork, through the door enters the most beautiful woman Antonia has ever seen. The dark suit is always a different shade between blue and purple, sometimes pants, sometimes pencil skirt and black thighs, and the click-clack of her modest high heels make the Spanish woman's heart speed up.

- Ro, the music teacher at one of the schools surrounding the café, always with that "better than you" kind of attitude that in reality is just a lot of well ingrained manners and etiquette. Her long hair is always braided in some way, small braids at the top, a big one in a bun, one way or another, her hair is always adorned by them.

- By the time she reaches the counter Antonia is already picking out the pastry of the day and the freshly made vanilla coffee she will order, no doubt. Because the best way to get to someone's heart is through their stomachs, right?

- Ro always smiles gently at her and takes her sweet lunch to a corner table by the window. Cue Antonia smiling stupidly at everyone and everything for the next thirty minutes, and sighing longingly after that when Ro leaves, always thanking and smiling at her before returning to school.

- Everyone knows. Everyone and their mother know how head over heels Antonia is, not only her employees or the regular clients, whoever steps in the café and sees that look of absolute adoration in her face can't really deny it.

- But they have to wonder if the other woman feels the same.

- Hint: in this house we don't do unilateral pining.

- Antonia has a brother, who at some point visits her from Portugal and ends up meeting this beautiful Austrian woman who always comes in at the same time, is very polite to his sister and smiles fondly at her from her corner table, her gaze softening... He just has to smack her little sister in the head for not only being obvious, but oblivious.

- Then one day, as every other day, Julchen is there, eating a hot cuernito and leaving crumbs everywhere while waiting for her girlfriend's shift to end. Alice meanwhile is complaining about the blatant stage of denial her boss is in. (If you thought I couldn't slip pruk in this you're wrong.)

- "Just the other day, she came in, took her lunch, and before going back to her table she asked Tonia if she wanted to go to a music concert, something or another about her school's orchestra, and you know what the boss did? She went all 'Ohh, that sounds nice! I'll make sure to spread the word!' Agh! She even asked the lady if she had pamphlets!"

- And in the middle of her laughing (and making an even bigger mess with her food) Julchen stops and asks: "Wait, like the concert my school's orchestra is doing next week?"

- OF COURSE, Julchen who is also a high school student and plays the flute has Ro as her teacher so YES Austria is teaching Prussia how to play and they still bicker like old ladies but one is 17 and the other is 29, please let me have this.

- So she spends the next twenty minutes talking about her very much lovestruck music teacher, who always seemed to be in a better mood after lunch and how she always attributed that to eating pastries (which is not entirely wrong btw) but now she knows is because of Antonia.

- "Look, I'm not even exaggerating. Once I failed every note of a piece on purpose, so I'm waiting there for rage and thunder, and instead she sighs and tells me to take a break, 'go eat something sweet', and dismisses me from practice for ten minutes. She was smiling, everyone was terrified."

- And... they don't know what to do with this new information. Like, should they help two almost-thirty-year-old women get together? The answer is, most likely, yes. But I don't really see them needing a complicated plan, just casual comments like "Oh, Miss Edelstein? Yeah, she's Jules' music teacher, she told me she loves Edelweiss flowers" or "Yeah, my girlfriend works at that lovely coffee shop down the street, I think the owner loves turtle themed things?" Like... not really subtle but they help.

- The day they finally go on a date everyone cries a bit inside of happiness.

- Everything stays almost the same, with the teacher still coming in for lunch and leaving with a soft smile, the busy boss waving animatedly from her place behind the counter, but now, at the end of the shift, there the teacher is again, waiting to "be escorted to her house", as it was previously agreed, apparently. Natalya is the one recounting this the next day to her fellow baristas.

- Final scene: Warm light comes through half opened curtains, the day begins as any other, and the only sound is the content humming of Antonia while her fingers card through thin dark hair, being careful not to tug too hard while keeping the braid in place; today is a neat, thin one in the middle of a half ponytail. She kisses it once it's finished, to make sure it's made with love, and Ro just rolls her eyes and pulls her down for a proper kiss.

On a final note, I made myself hungry while writing this and can't go buy any of the pastries here, hope it goes better for you :'v

Also wanted to put Francis in here but I kept getting war flashbacks from this trio relationship so, maybe he’s the best friend who offers advice or something.

#spaus #aph spain #aph austria #aph prussia #aph england #aph portugal #aph belarus #nyo!spain #nyo!austria #nyo!prussia #nyo!england #hetalia #nyotalia #junechats #junestuff #that's a LOT of tags but heh #thank you for your patience! #Anonymous #ff trope mash-up #fic