#but that something he did do should’ve been done a lot sooner! but that’s its own post.. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wwalkingdread · 3 years

Note

Heya sweetie! welcome to the TWDG fandom <3 I'm glad that more people join and that you want to write about the characters, you will surely do a great job ^^

Btw, I hope you don't mind that I'm one of the first to make a request (of many more, I hope) >:3

How about some headcanons of the guys from season 4 (James, Louis, Marlon, Aasim, Mitch) reacting to seeing their darling (fem reader) risking her life to save someone from a horde of walkers, and getting badly hurt for it (not dead, ofc, I don't want to see my babies suffer ... for now TT) Plus if the person she saved tries to attack her

❥ Ericson Boys’ S/O Running Into a Horde

Characters: Marlon, Louis, Mitch, Aasim

Description: Reader finds out the hard way that saving somebody isn’t always worth it.

Warnings: Violence, death, swearing

Notes: I don’t write for James unfortunately </3 I’m not too confident about writing for him, sorry about that!!

I’m not sure how they got badly injured, so I just didn’t explain how. They just did, shit happens. These kids grew up in the apocalypse, they’ve got cereal bars for bones and they are crumbling.

I hope this is alright!! Sorry if they’re ooc </3

Marlon

♥︎ Marlon was stern. He told you no, he couldn’t risk losing you. You’d get torn apart out there.

♥︎ But you couldn’t let somebody else get torn apart instead. You disobeyed his orders and sprinted out there, weapon in hand, ignoring the way he tried to grab you.

♥︎ You were selfless, something we wished he could’ve been. Usually, he’d sit there, basking in adoration and jealousy, but he was horrified, and Marlon’s fear manifests into anger.

♥︎ When he saw you run out of the gates, he yelled after you, saying you had a death wish.

♥︎ He wanted to stew in his anger, but he didn’t. He just clenched his jaw, looking around at the rest of Ericson with a thick scowl.

♥︎ “Why are you all just standing there!? Go after them, dammit!”

♥︎ Marlon shot at dead-heads from a distance, nailing every shot. Every skull the arrow pierced through, his anger went down a tick.

♥︎ But Marlon was getting tunnel-vision, narrowly close to missing the way a walker had your forearm in its hands, fighting against you to take a chunk out of your flesh.

♥︎ You didn’t get out there unscathed. Despite Marlon managing to shoot away any stray walker you missed, you were still bruised and cut up. He scoffed at his own carelessness for not realising sooner. He should’ve either stopped you altogether or done more to help.

♥︎ He looked at who you brought back. A woman in her mid-thirties. He snarled, looking her up and down. He couldn’t help but hold resentment toward adults for abandoning them six years ago. He nodded toward a select few people, who told her they’d take her away to check for injuries.

♥︎ He kept Ruby close by. You were getting the attention first, not some grown-up.

♥︎ You had a deep gash in your forearm that needed stitches. After a close inspection, you had even more slices that would need cleaning up and disinfected. You lost a lot of blood, but Ruby reassured Marlon that it was nowhere near enough for it to be fatal, but you might be feeling a little light-headed. You’d need some rest.

♥︎ Marlon sat in his office chair, head in his hands, his anger left to fester. His eyes were dry, staring into his own mind, imagining everything wrong that could’ve happened, everything that still could.

♥︎ He was going to pay her a small visit, the paranoia not leaving his veins. He needed some sort of idea of just who you brought back if it would’ve somehow been worth it if you gave it up for if it’s what you would’ve wanted. He went to go to see.

♥︎ You had the same idea. Lightheaded and weak, you still wanted to introduce yourself, welcome her on behalf of Marlon. You knew he wasn’t exactly… In the right mental spot right now to greet anybody. Not politely, anyway.

♥︎ You didn’t expect to see her rummage around drawers, angrily cursing and slamming things shut.

♥︎ When she noticed you, her face burned red,

♥︎ “Bringing me to a fucking school, bringing me to a shit-hole ran by children. Fucking children. Do you expect me to live like this? Doing jigsaw puzzles and colouring in the lines!?”

♥︎ You couldn’t process her rage or where it could’ve come from because she lunged at you, her long, skinny fingers going toward your throat. You were at a disadvantage. This woman towered over you and she was healthy, not getting injured as you took every hit for her.

♥︎ Eventually, your arms started to give in, her hands clamping around your neck.

♥︎ Maybe you should’ve listened to Marlon.

♥︎ The woman’s fighting form suddenly faltered, slumping against you, you pushed against her in surprise and she fell to the floor, an arrow to her temple. She convulsed slightly, to which you just watched, staring wide-eyed, before she was completely still; unmoving.

♥︎ “Holy shit, Marlon��”

♥︎ He walked right up to you, clutching the back of your head and nearing it to his chest. You could hear his heart thump against his rib cage.

♥︎ “I could’ve lost you.”

♥︎ He wanted to be angry, but the way he held you in his arms didn’t let him.

♥︎ “I… I’m so sorry, I…” You clutched at your neck, it felt like you could feel her fingers still there, “I just wanted to help.”

♥︎ “I wish it was that easy.” His eyes glazed over, thinking about what he walked in on, the images flashing in his mind, “Fuck. Nothing is that simple anymore.”

♥︎ After the cleanup, after the consolation and the frequent checkups from everybody, Marlon insisted you slept in the office with him, worried you’d somehow not be there in tomorrow. He was a wreck.

♥︎ Although, so were you. You admittedly didn’t want to be alone either.

♥︎ He slept with you in his arms, not letting go.

♥︎ He didn’t want you to run off on your own again.

Louis

♥︎ Aasim called from the front that there was a horde in the usual hunting spot. Previously, they were getting really lucky there, but it seemed their luck had run out.

♥︎ “There goes hunting for today…” Louis said, trying to force the saddest voice he could muster, but Aasim just glared at his lack of care.

♥︎ That was when they watched a walker drop dead, with a yell to accompany it. Somebody was in there, right in the middle and they were being completely swarmed.

♥︎ “Holy shit, we need to help him.” You clutched onto your bow and pulled your usual kitchen knife from its rightful place, getting ready to charge in there.

♥︎ “Are you crazy? Sorry to say, but your friend over there is as good as dead.”

♥︎ You scolded Louis for his pessimism, and he just raised his arms in defence. As much as he rejected this idea, he always trusted you. You were a lot more capable than he was, stronger and braver. If you thought it was the right thing to do then he was inclined to think the same.

♥︎ Aasim tried to stop you from rushing toward the horde, berating Louis for the fact he did nothing to stop you. Aasim told Louis to get ready as he readied his bow.

♥︎ Louis hesitantly followed along behind you, but he and Chairles were hardly needed. You single-handedly cleared an opening, pulling an older man out with you. He was exhausted, tired from the constant swinging of the hammer. You all rushed out of there, bringing the survivor home.

♥︎ The adrenaline made you not even notice your leg, your calf was completely torn open. You could see the muscle twitch from the inside, and Ruby rushed to you, Louis helping carry you to a suitable place for stitches.

♥︎ Aasim’s words ran through his head. You were fine, you would be fine, but he should‘ve done more to stop you. There was going to be at least one time where your selflessness will get you killed, and Louis knew he would have a hand in it.

♥︎ You could hardly walk, your calf being stitched up and your foot having a nasty slice right down the middle. You only had one good foot.

♥︎ “That man you brought back… He don’t seem right…” Ruby said while disinfecting your wounds, and you had to agree.

♥︎ Louis didn’t want to say it, a little nervous to go against your idea to bring somebody back, but he did.

♥︎ “He was talking to himself the whole time. I couldn’t make a word out, but he’s nuts.” He looked at you, feeling guilty in case you felt that your efforts were wasted, “But let’s just hope after a meal he’ll be back to normal. Otherwise, we might have a problem…”

♥︎ Louis helped you to your dorm, gently laying you down. He kissed you on the nose, laughing as he pulled away.

♥︎ “We might have an update on ‘Ol Crazy by the time dinner rolls around.” He said, the back of his hand stroking the withered space beneath your eye, you suddenly realised just how tired you actually were.

♥︎ Your eyes were already closing as he made his way out the room, telling you he’d get you up for dinner.

♥︎ Louis, unfortunately, didn’t get to update you. You woke up to see the old man standing by your doorway, mumbling to himself.

♥︎ Maybe bringing him back was a bad idea…

♥︎ Nervous and feeling vulnerable, you forced yourself out of bed, losing balance when applying pressure to your injured leg, hissing through your clenched jaw.

♥︎ “Can… I help you…?” You were very nervous, reaching for your weapon, completely forgetting it wasn’t on your person right now.

♥︎ The bearded man rushed toward you, hammer raised above his head, quickly losing balance, you fell against the chest of drawers you have next to your bed.

♥︎ You let your sliced foot flop forward, to which the older man tripped on. Feeling his muddy boots press into your open wound made you yell out in pain, but the adrenaline didn’t allow you to lose concentration. You grab the man as he fell forward, your fingers tangling amongst his hair and slamming him into the corner of the dresser, the sharp edge going straight into his eye socket.

♥︎ Louis only got there when you held the hammer above his bloodied body, already have taken a strike to his face, but you both froze when you locked eye with one another.

♥︎ He was already on his way up to bring you something to eat when he had heard the commotion.

♥︎ “Louis!” You exclaimed, limping as you turned your body to face him, “Are you alright?”

♥︎ “Wh-!? Me!?” He blinked, taking the scenery in. Even after fighting for your life, you still worried about everybody but yourself.

♥︎ He rushed over to you, wanting to envelop you in a hug, but he didn’t feel safe doing that with a man still flailing around on the ground. He held onto your sleeve tightly.

♥︎ “He cannot stay here.” He said the obvious, waiting for your reaction. You simply nodded, silently wrapping your arm around his shoulder so he could assist you in telling the others.

♥︎ You threw the bearded man out the gates, everybody brandishing their weapons. He babbled incoherent curses and threats, clutching his caved-in nose. Nobody said anything and waited for him to walk away, which he eventually did.

♥︎ He eyed you, looking at your angered expression, his palm found itself entrapped in his hair as he exhaled a sigh, “I wish I could’ve got there sooner…” He confessed, “Anything could’ve happened… Fuck.”

♥︎ “You wouldn’t say I handled myself pretty well?”

♥︎ “Oh, you were fucking great!” He exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. Louis picked you up and bridal-carried you back to your room, saying you deserved a break and he’s been trying to gain enough strength just to do that at least once, and now was time to put that work to good use.

♥︎ He could always trust you to be the strong one, the tough person in the relationship, but right now he wanted to give you a break. He wanted to care about you as much as you thought about taking care of others.

♥︎ And he did.

Mitch

♥︎ “Eh, fuck ‘em.”

♥︎ It was simple and a careless answer. Mitch didn’t care about some random guy that Willy had spotted from the watchtower. Mitch even started making bets, mocking the poor man fighting with a crowbar.

♥︎ “I bet in only a minute he’ll go down.”

♥︎ Willy snorted, flashing crooked teeth Mitch’s way, “I’ll bet less than that!”

♥︎ You couldn’t stand to hear it. Sliding down the ladder, you rushed out. Mitch didn’t even hear you leave, but he could see you running straight toward the horde from his position. His eyes widened, yelling at you to stop, that you were an idiot.

♥︎ He told Willy to stay where he was and called for the others.

♥︎ Mitch and the others didn’t even get a chance to get near the horde before they saw you pulling the man away, his eyes were wide and fearful, not being able to process the situation he was just in.

♥︎ He was mostly silent. Some wanted to know how he found this place, some insisted to give him space. At the end of the day, they gave the man a dorm to sleep in until he mentally recovered.

♥︎ You, on the other hand, haven’t recovered. You somehow injured your chest, Ruby speculated you could’ve broken a rib, but she wasn’t sure.

♥︎ Even though you doubted it, Mitch disagreed. You had gotten yourself seriously hurt, all for some guy you didn’t even know.

♥︎ “If you keep caring about everybody out there, you’ll die trying to save them all!” He yelled at you.

♥︎ It hurt when you sat down, it hurt when you lay down. Getting rest almost seemed impossible, plus your boyfriend was screaming at you. Not very fun.

♥︎ You half-heartedly apologised, but Mitch could see right through it. He sighed, looked down at your bandaged body with pity. He opened his mouth to speak, but he just left instead. He wanted to be alone.

♥︎ The thought of something happening to you and you not caring drove him crazy.

♥︎ You woke up early, pain shooting through your body.

♥︎ You felt useless laying in bed. You hated people bringing you things instead of you being able to get it.

♥︎ You decided to check up on your new friend. It was early, surely they wouldn’t be awake, but you were… Curious.

♥︎ It hurt to sit up and it hurt to stand, but you were determined. You weren’t going to let an injury stop you. It never did before and it wasn’t going to now. You were just going to crack the door a smidge, take a peek and then leave.

♥︎ Admittedly, you just wanted an excuse to walk around.

♥︎ When you got to the door you did just that, but you didn’t see a presence in the bed. Surprised, you pushed the door open beer further.

♥︎ “Hey, buddy… Are you in here?”

♥︎ You remembered how shaken up he was before, maybe he was hiding.

♥︎ But your eyes adjusted to the dark as you saw him in the corner, facing you.

♥︎ The man you saved had paled significantly, his eyes had turned a vacant, milky white, his lower jaw hanging open.

♥︎ “Oh no…” You whispered, the jolt of fear you were feeling sending a burning to your chest. You hissed and wrapped your arms around yourself in pain, the man coming right for you.

♥︎ You fell out the door and against the hallway walls as he reached out toward you, a deep and guttural groan emitting from his chest, completely inhuman.

♥︎ You grabbed the man by the head, trying desperately to push him away. You called for somebody, anybody, but the first name that came to you was Mitch.

♥︎ You cried in desperation as you saw him emerge from his dorm room, pulling out one of his wooden knives, he hastily ran over to you, shoving the walker to the ground, stabbing him in the head multiple times.

♥︎ “What…?” He breathed out, catching his breath, “What the fuck happened?”

♥︎ You shook your head, clutching your ribs, “I don’t know I… I guess he was bitten, I…”

♥︎ You whined in agony and Mitch completely forgot about the man-turned-walker that lay spouting blood on the floor. He softly embraced you, careful to not touch your chest.

♥︎ “That was so fucked…” He said, not knowing what to even do. He did his best to help you to your feet, you breathily crying out in pain.

♥︎ “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” You whined, sobbing. Mitch shushed you, telling you it’s over.

♥︎ Mitch told everybody about what had happened and they all took pity on you. You just wanted to help and almost got yourself killed and had to fight off a walker with a painful injury.

♥︎ Mitch refused to leave your side for days. He knew you were getting bored of the same scenery so he was constantly bringing you things to change the room, even if it was just a cool rock.

♥︎ When you finally fell asleep, despite the pain, he’d brush the hair out of your face, watching the way your chest would rise and fall. He liked it when you were peaceful and calm, it was so different from the fear you were feeling prior.

♥︎ Mitch had started falling asleep on the floor with his head on your mattress. He didn’t want to leave you alone for a second.

Aasim

♥︎ “Well take a look at all that.” Louis’s hand rested at his hips, whistling at the horde, to which Aasim promptly shushed him.

♥︎ “Shit.” Aasim, crouched down, not wanting to be seen by the horde.

♥︎ Huddled alongside him, you waited to see where they were going, but it seemed the small horde had a target. You managed to catch a glimpse of objective, a woman trying her best to separate herself.

♥︎ “There’s a fucking person in there!” You whisper-yelled, your hand tightening around your weapon. Aasim perked up, trying to crane his neck so he could see what you could, but he heard the desperate grunt and pleads of a person.

♥︎ He could see you begin to stand out of his peripherals and he reached his arm out in front of you, signalling you to wait, which you did.

♥︎ Aasim eyed you, wanting to help, but his brain told him it wasn’t worth it.

♥︎ Noticing his hesitation, you scoffed at him, saying you’ll do it yourself, before rushing behind the walker and taking a knife to their skulls.

♥︎ Aasim wasn’t able to stop you, so he readied his hunting bow and did his best to shoot at any walker that was way too close to you for his liking. You were eventually engulfed by the wall of corpses, which made him call out for you. He’d completely lost sight of you, that was until you returned with a woman, one you were clutching to more than she was you.

♥︎ “There was too many, I couldn’t have done anything…” She panted, eyeing the remaining few nervously.

♥︎ He sent the woman a quick look of sympathy but didn’t say a word. You staggered down onto your knees, moaning in pain. Aasim was quick to assist you, holding you close as you all swiftly made your escape, not caring about the left-over walkers.

♥︎ He wanted to berate you for being so careless, but your pained breathing made him hold it in. It could wait.

♥︎ Both of your legs were bruised. You could hardly walk, your knees buckling from under you after only a few seconds.

♥︎ There was nothing that could be done, you’d have to rest for a while. He assisted you into bed, hearing your whimpers every time his arms got tired and you put slightly more weight on your legs.

♥︎ Eventually you made it to your dorm.

♥︎ Aasim sighed, sitting at the end of your bed, his hand on your leg with his thumb gently rubbing itself against your shin.

♥︎ “You have to be more careful.” He sighed, “You can’t risk it all just like that… Fucking running in there, you could’ve…”

♥︎ His breathing was rickety, anxiety overwhelming him. For a brief second, he thought you wouldn’t emerge from the horde. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

♥︎ He pressed a kiss to your hand and told you to get some rest, his touch lingering on your skin before he felt comfortable letting go.

♥︎ He slipped out of his dorm during the night, not able to sleep. He was going to walk in the courtyard, look into the sky. You two typically did it together, but he didn’t have the luxury as of right now.

♥︎ He didn’t expect to see the woman already out in the hallway, creeping her way to another room. Aasim grabbed his hunting bow, the one he didn’t put away, and followed closely behind.

♥︎ His heart stopped when he saw her go into your room.

♥︎ She was quick to your bed, standing over you with a gun in her hand.

♥︎ “I’m sorry…” Her finger inched its way toward the trigger, a small wavering in her action, “It’s complicated.”

♥︎ He didn’t give her a chance, adrenaline pumping through his veins, he drew his bow and shot her straight in the neck.

♥︎ She gurgled out, clutching the arrow’s shaft, aiming her gun at Aasim.

♥︎ She thankfully missed, her body declining against the wall, she shot into the wall behind Aasim instead, which woke you up immediately.

♥︎ She woman tried shooting again, more stable sitting on the ground compared to on her feet, but her barrel was seemingly empty as the gun only clicked instead of firing.

♥︎ It was harder to kill a person, somebody with the light still in their eyes. Aasim knew he had to go for the head, and you exclaimed in shock when the arrow zipped across the room and into the front of her skull.

♥︎ “Wha…? What the fuck…!?” Part of you thought you might’ve been dreaming, but the shock of it all made you feel more awake than ever.

♥︎ “I don’t know…” As furious he was in the moment, something pecked at the back of his brain, maybe it was a misunderstanding.

♥︎ But he quickly shook it off. He had no idea what she was planning and now he never would, but he didn’t care. He was glad to see you without a bullet hole in you.

♥︎ Aasim quickly explained what happened and you felt yourself cry out. The woman you tried to save, the woman you almost died for, tried to shoot you while you slept.

♥︎ “It isn’t fair…” You sobbed, Aasim gently scooping you up into his chest.

♥︎ “I know… I know it isn’t.” He felt himself give in too, burying his head into your hair. You were warm, alive.

♥︎ He held you close, afraid to let you go.

♥︎ He didn’t help the others dispose of her body, not when it could’ve been yours instead. He remained put, stroking your hair, savouring any skin-to-skin contact he had.

♥︎ Everyday that you got better, every second you could stand just a little longer, another layer of fear washed away. You two would be back out there together, silently agreeing to not help another survivor trapped in a horde, despite the pain that came with it.

#twdg #twdg hc #twdg s4 #twdg x reader #twdg Marlon #twdg Marlon x reader #twdg Louis #twdg Louis x reader #twdg Mitch #twdg Mitch x reader #twdg aasim #twdg aasim x reader #twdg fanfiction

218 notes · View notes

lavendertales · 3 years

Text

Snowflakes - Marcus Pike x gn!reader

summary: you're taking the train to go see your family for the holidays, sharing the compartment with one rather handsome stranger. what's gonna happen once the train stops in the middle of a snow storm?

requested by @wantingpedropascal hope you like this, my dear!

warnings: just a lot of fluff.

gif: @damerondjarin

You’re always enjoyed traveling by train. It seemed a more peaceful way to do so and it provided you with landscapes you could never get tired of. Especially for the holidays season, your favorite time of the year, watching the snow fall down the ground and cover it with its cold and beautiful white layer.

The snow is falling quite heavily this time though; you took a break from reading your book to glare through the window. You smile at the scenery, thinking how, for just one brief moment, it all seems peaceful and quiet, and there is no pain. Only ice cold beauty.

“Quite the view, isn’t it?”

You shared the compartment with a fairly attractive man that had been silent throughout the ride. You both got in from Washington and until now, two hours later, no words have been exchanged. So it is a surprise to hear him speak, clearly addressing you in a husky, yet soothing voice.

“It is beautiful,” you admit with a polite smile.

“Not much of a cold fan though.”

“You can always bundle up. What do you do when there’s heat?”

The stranger smiles cheekily. “I figure something out.”

Only then do you realize how it must’ve sounded so you chuckle as well. Normally you’d be reluctant to engage in random conversations with strangers but this one seems harmless so far. He’s reading a book just as you are, which you opt to take as a sign of good faith.

There’s a noise, followed by the breaks and eventually the train’s motions cease. You look around for some sort of confirmation.

“I’ll go speak with the conductor, see what’s going on,” the man tells you.

You lean back down, slightly more anxious. You think the snow is the sole culprit but you wait for the man nonetheless, which, again, it’s nothing like you’d act normally.

But somehow, this man oozes decency and a stillness about him that you don’t see often nowadays.

When he returns, he shuts the compartment door and looks at you rather disappointed. “There’s a snow storm and we’ll be stuck here for a while. The conductor said he’ll do the best he can, but with this blizzard, there will be a delay.”

“Oh, man. I knew I should’ve left DC sooner. Should’ve left after Thanksgiving.”

“Did you spend Thanksgiving alone?”

“No, my family came to see me, and I agreed I would go see them for Christmas. Looking back on it now, not such a good idea.”

The man chuckles softly, triggering the same response out of you.

“Since we’re gonna be here a while... I’m Marcus Pike.”

He extends a hand to you which you welcome immediately with a smile as you give him your name.

“So, Marcus. I take it you’re visiting family too?”

“Yeah, that was the plan. Been in kind of a rut with only work and I figured this is the perfect opportunity to catch up.”

“Don’t tell me all you do is work.”

“Guilty as charged. I’m an FBI agent.”

Your face lights with surprise that you cannot conceal. “Oh, wow! Gotta be careful around you then.”

“Why, have you done something bad?”

A coy smile graces his lips and you can’t help but reciprocate. “Not yet. Just in case.”

“What about you? Only work or do you get to have a personal life?”

“I got my friends, but that’s about it.”

“That’s hard to believe. Someone as... clearly educated and beautiful like yourself?”

Your cheeks get flushed and try as you might you fail to conceal anything. In return, you only smile, flattered.

“It’s hard to believe a fine FBI agent like yourself is single,” you fire back.

Marcus shrugs. “Job has its ups but also downs. Tough to make a stable connection when you’re chasing bad guys most of the time.”

“It’s understandable. But it’s not impossible.”

Conversation went on and on until you even forgot your train was stranded in the middle of a blizzard. You found it so simple and fascinating to engage in various topics with Marcus and, as it turned out, you were both headed for the same city which made his desire to ask you out for a coffee so much easier.

By the time the train went back on its track, the handsome stranger in the compartment would become an exciting new date.

permanent Pedro crew:

@doin-stuff @pedro-pastel @acourtofsnakes @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @beskarboobs @rosiefridayrogersunday @boxdyeblonde @imcalledflorence @casssiopeia @sleep-tight1 @pasckles @northernpunk @evelynseventyr @itssmashedavo @phoenixhalliwell @elegantduckturtle @mylifeinthetardisforever @ohhersheybars @kingsqueensandvagabonds @greeneyedblondie44 @sebbys-girl @mrsparknuts @hnt-escape @hayley-the-comet @spideysimpossiblegirl @lsphoenix @kirsteng42 @lunaemss @goldielocks2004 @diogodxlot @queridopascal @gracie7209 @floraandfrost @mejswho @dobbyjen @janebby @what-iwish-you-knew @jedi-jesi @kaqua @datenshi666 @stevie75 @ezras-channel-rat @for-my-satisfaction @quica-quica-quica @mishasminion360 @eri16 @grandfanficstation @lovesbiggerthanpride @xaestheticalien @mrsudontknowme @hello-i-am-daydreaming @mando-s-wife @pastamomma @midwesternwitchery @headinthestarz @drreidsconverse @dindjarinneedsahug @captainjaspenor @pscalwhiskey @1800-fight-me @phandoz @pedrostories @ayrusss

Requests are open!

#requests #drabble #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fic #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike x gn!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic

122 notes · View notes

no-pucks-given · 3 years

Text

TYSON JOST | LIGHT MY WAY HOME

A/N: More than 12.000 words later, more than a month after the initial request from Taylor popped up in my notifications. What a freaking ride. My longest fic I've ever written, and maybe even my favourite one. Thank you, to everyone who hyped me up, send me inspo and send me sweet asks. I couldn't have done this without all of you. Special thanks to @dumb-and-dunner, @chicagoblackhawkslover96, @heybarzy and Chrissy (who doesn't have Tumblr unfortunately).

Warnings: Angst, ‘can I strangle him yet?’ Tyson, swearwords, some major character development and (how could I not?!) a happy ending.

Also: Gabe and Melissa Landeskog play a big part in this fic, so if you aren't comfortable with them, you might want to skip this one.

Word Count: 12.1K

Requested: Yes.

The NHL lifestyle, or the ‘popular’ lifestyle was attractive to all young, hormonal boys. You’d known that for a long time. You stood by Tyson’s side when he got drafted into the wicked world of the NHL. Parties, drinking, sex, training until you can barely move, fights, games, wins and losses. It all had it’s charms, but it also had its dangers. Just like any other guy Tyson wanted to experience it all, the whole package,

You assumed you fell under that ‘whole package’, you were his girlfriend for a reason, right? And you did, for a while. You partied together, came home together, did everything together. But the moment Tyson became older and ‘known’ outside the regular hockey fans, that title didn’t mean much anymore. He became more and more the type of guy you didn’t fall in love with, the type to take you for granted, the type to enjoy the attention of other people, other women in particular. You weren’t the jealous type, you didn’t want to claw out the eyes of every woman that looked at him, but you were at a breaking point. Maybe you were jealous, you weren’t jealous of those other women, you were jealous of the attention Tyson gave them. Attention he should’ve been giving to you, his freaking girlfriend.

You were however the loyal type, the type to come home after a long night. And that’s exactly where things went wrong with Tyson. While you were waiting for him at home with a meal, a warm bed or just simply anything else, he was out. You had no idea where he was exactly, he was simply ‘out’, whatever that might mean. You tried to talk to him, you tried to make him see that this wouldn’t end well for either of you, but he simply waved off your concerns, shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

How do you talk to someone who rediscovered himself? How do you talk to someone who thinks he’s on top of the world? How do you save someone from the downfall of success when they don’t want to be saved? You knew one day he’ll come down from this high, one day he’ll realize that he screwed up. One day he’ll come to the conclusion he let something special slip through his fingers, and for what? Fame? Drinks? A rush of adrenaline? One day. But you knew that it wouldn’t be today.

However today is the day that you’re done. Absolutely fed up with all the bullshit excuses Tyson has been feeding you, all the coming home late or not even coming home at all. You have no idea what he’s been up to these last months, he’s barely home. Even when he’s home it’s like he isn’t really there. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you slept together or the last time you actually went to bed at the same time. Breakfast together? A lifetime ago. A lazy day together? Can’t remember. Date night? Months, months ago. Even thinking about it pisses you off to no end, the pain and hurt slowly making place for a new emotion: anger.

It’s frustrating to say the least. You love and take care of him like he means the world to you, and he does. Tyson on the other hand seems to take you for granted, or forgets you’re here at all. It seems like you’re talking to a brick wall instead of your boyfriend. No matter how hard you try, your words have no impact, your tears don’t make him feel anything. It’s like he’s a totally different person. You barely recognize him anymore these days, he feels like a stranger inside the body of the man you love. It feels like you’re both living your life, besides each other instead of with each other. It hurts, that’s for sure.

Like any other day you’ve prepared dinner, put it on the table and sat down on one of the chairs. All you can do now is wait, wait and pray he’ll show up this time. You even texted him, begged him to come home and simply eat dinner with you for a change. Of course you didn’t get a response, of course it’s complete radio silence from his side. God, you were desperate at this point, you don’t even try to deny it.

With every passing minute your hope disappears little by little. You stare at the food on the table until it’s completely dark outside, no sign of Tyson. Hours passed and you barely noticed it, it isn’t until you try to stand up and your muscles ache from sitting in the same position for a long time that you realize how much time actually has passed. “Fuck this, why am I even trying anymore?” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head. This isn’t worth it, it hasn’t been for a long time. Maybe, just maybe you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.

Deciding to choose yourself over Tyson is a major decision, one you probably should’ve made sooner. It doesn’t matter, what does matter is that you’re choosing you now. You make the split second decision to just grab your stuff, just the necessary stuff. You remember Gabe’s offer, at the time you waved it off with a smile, pretending it wasn’t as bad as it might look to the outside world, but now? You want nothing more than to take him up on his offer. So what’s stopping you?

Even though you were excruciating calm this whole time, the moment you step into your bedroom, or Tyson’s bedroom, you break. This is real, this is really happening. You grab your bags, filling them with some of your stuff. Some clothes, some toiletries, your makeup, everything you might need. It’s a tough job, it’s even harder when you almost can’t see past the tears. At some point you lose track of things you did and didn’t grab, just shoving random items into your bag.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your body sinking down on the floor. In your hands the box containing all your high school love letters, all the small gifts you made each other. Tyson was quite handy, who would’ve thought that? You smile at the memories, sorting through the box. You frown at the feeling surging through your body, is this how heartbreak feels? Looking down at the contents of the box you sigh, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. Why couldn’t life be as simple as it used to be? It shouldn’t be this hard, right? You grab your prom picture between your fingers, smiling sadly at the two people in the picture, both smiling like they just won the lottery, both utterly in love with the other. How time can change..

You throw the box on the bed, maybe it will remind Tyson what the two of you had was special, maybe he’ll realize what he’s about to lose. If it doesn’t, well, it’s his loss. Hauling your bags downstairs is a full workout, you intended to bring ‘just the essentials’ but you have way more important stuff than you originally thought. You aren’t planning on returning to this house any time soon.

Shutting the car door after you loaded in your stuff gives you some form of relief. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in. You made your decision, it’s time to follow through now. You make your way back inside, and into the kitchen. Cleaning up all leftovers from dinner, which obviously is a lot more than you expected. Although.. did you really think he would show up? You shake your head again, putting the leftovers into the fridge. After you finish the dishes you retreat back to the living room, falling down on the couch with a loud sigh. All you can do now is wait.

You could’ve just left and never look back, but that isn’t your style. If you’re going to leave, you’ll do it the right way. You won’t leave without giving him a piece of mind, letting him know he fucked this up for good. You try to focus on the movie playing on the screen, but your heart keeps beating harder and harder, at this point you wish you would’ve just left instead of waiting for Tyson to show up. God, why did you have to do it the right way? Because you know, deep down, you would’ve wanted him to do it the same way. It’s the humane thing to do, it’s only right after spending such a long time together.

The front door opening brings you out of your thoughts. Honestly you don’t even know what time it is, but frankly you don’t care. All you want right now is to get this off your chest and leave. Tyson’s eyes widen when he comes face-to-face with you, surprisingly he doesn’t seem that intoxicated. You suspected he went out, but at this point he could’ve been anywhere.

“You’re still up,” Tyson says, walking past you and flopping down on the couch.

“Yep, and you missed dinner,” you counter, crossing your arms. Tyson simply shrugs his shoulder, clearly not caring enough to explain his absence. “I texted you to make sure you would be here,” you say, even though you know it doesn’t make a difference.

“Yeah, I was busy,” Tyson answers, looking down at his phone.

You almost feel the need to chuckle, to start laughing at his stupid behavior, but this is anything but funny to you, it fucking hurts. “I’m done, Tyson. I’m fucking done,” you say, shaking your head, trying so hard to keep the tears away.

Tyson looks at you with dull eyes, no emotion visible on his face. “Then go to fucking bed, I really can’t deal with your problems right now,” he sighs, turning his head back to the phone in his hand.

Right now, at this moment you know you made the right decision. This isn’t behavior of someone who’s in love, this isn’t even behavior of someone who loves. “You don’t have to deal with me anymore, because I’m leaving. I’m done, we’re done,” you tell him, emphasizing the last part. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours, the panic clearly written all over his face now.

“No, we’re not. You can’t break up with me, y/n!” he almost shouts at you, standing up from the couch.

“Yes, I can and I will. You don’t get to act like you care all of the sudden, Tyson. You haven’t acted like a boyfriend in months. You haven’t given me any reason to stay, so I won’t. I’m done with whatever this is,” you say, waving between the two of you. Tyson grabs your wrist, tears starting to pool in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “No. No. You don’t get to do this. It’s over. You put on quite a show, but I can’t say it was very entertaining. This curtain fucking closes right now, show is over. You can act like you care, but I know by now that you don’t,” you tell him, ripping your arm out of his grip.

You walk over to the front door, keeping your head high. Now is not the time to break down, your time will come. You hear Tyson behind you, muttering how sorry he is, excuse after excuse leave his mouth. You open the door, turning around one last time to look at Tyson. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, ‘cause you’re not,” you say while shaking your head. You close the door behind you, not looking back at what you’ve left behind, only looking forward to what’s yet to come.

It’s when you’re in your car mindlessly driving around when you realize you have nowhere to go. You forgot to call Gabe, and it’s probably way too late now. You quickly check the time, 2am, shit that’s late. You doubt he’s still awake, you feel bad for even thinking about waking him up. Two young children, both of them under the age of 2, and being a professional hockey player probably cost him enough energy already, you don’t need to add to that. “He did say I could always call him when I made my decision,” you say out loud, more to convince yourself that it’s okay than anything else.

You easily find Gabe’s contact, immediately pressing the dial button before you change your mind again. The line only rings twice before Gabe picks up. “I’m guessing you either finally broke up with him or there’s a fire somewhere,” Gabe says from the other side of the line. You chuckle, shaking your head. “And since you’re calling me and not the fire department, my guess is on the first one,” Gabe continues, trying to make you smile some more.

“I did it, I broke up with him, couldn’t stand to be there any second longer,” you sigh, brushing your fingers through your hair.

You hear Gabe’s sigh of relief. “I’m proud of you, y/n. I know this isn’t what you had in mind, but it’s better like this, I promise.”

Gabe turned into one of your best friends over time, Melissa is the older sister you never had and you love their children like they’re your own. Gabe and Melissa welcomed you into their family immediately after meeting you. You hadn’t expected to make friends and you definitely didn’t expect to make friends with the captain and his wife, but you’re so grateful you did. The support you receive from them is overwhelming, you couldn’t wish for better friends. So when Gabe first made you this offer, you were thankful he did, although you were still convinced at that point that Tyson would change.

“Uhm, you know.. that offer you made me? Is that still on the table?” you ask, praying he’ll say ‘yes’, praying you don’t have to sleep in some random hotel tonight.

“Of course, the guestroom is already prepared. Melissa expects you to be here as soon as possible, apparently she ‘really needs to cuddle her little sister’,” Gabe chuckles, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at his wife.

“Thank you, Gabe. I owe you,” you say softly.

“You don’t. You’re family, y/n,” Gabe says, and you know he means every word he just said. Family. “Now get your ass over here, before Melissa starts a search party,” Gabe chuckles, making you laugh some more, because you know she would. You quickly say your goodbyes, promising you’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s just a short drive from your apartment, or Tyson’s apartment now, to Gabe and Mel’s place.

You kept up your appearance, keeping the tears at bay, but the moment you step out of your car and into Gabe’s arms you’re done. “Come here, I’m so sorry,” Gabe says softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You stand there for a few minutes, simply crying on your best friend’s shoulder, until Melissa squeezes herself between the two of you. “Hush, I need some sister time. Why don’t you grab her stuff?” she says, smiling sweetly at her husband.

Gabe sighs dramatically, sending a wink your way. “Whatever you say, wife.”

Melissa pulls you close to her, an arm around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you your room,” she softly says, leading you into the house. You’ve been here so many times already, but never like this. You’ve never been in a situation like this before, you’re not sure how to handle this. “I can hear the wheels turning in your head. It will be okay,” Melissa says, rubbing your arm soothingly. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders, not sure what to say.

Melissa leads you to your room, pushing you down on the bed, while she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I know you’re probably exhausted, but do you want to talk?” Melissa asks softly, her face showing nothing but compassion.

You lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all that has happened. “I don’t even know what to say, Mel. I don’t even know how I feel right now. I’m just so...” you trail off, not knowing the right words to describe everything that you feel and think right now.

“Confused, relieved, mad?”

You sit back up, looking back at Melissa. “All of the above, I guess? It hurts, but I’m glad I did it. But I also regret it, because I love him, you know? I’m mad he didn’t try harder for me, for us,” you say, trying hard to keep the rush of tears away.

Melissa wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her. “I know, sweetheart. It will take time, but you’re going to be okay.”

You sigh, knowing she’s right, even though it probably will take more time than just ‘some time’. You did just end a long relationship, it will take a lot of patience and time to work through that. “Thank you, Mel. For letting me stay here,” you mumble against Melissa’s shoulder.

“No need for that. You’re my sister, remember?” Melissa smiles at you.

Gabe softly knocks on the door before opening the door. “Brought your bags, thought you might need them before you go to sleep,” he says, smiling at the sight before him. Your friendship might be unconventional, but he couldn’t care less what other people think about it. Gabe absolutely adores the sister bond you and Mel share, he hoped the two of you would get along, so this? Picture perfect.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you smile at him.

“Do you mind if I steal my wife from you?” Gabe asks, making you and Melissa laugh out loud.

“Nope, she’s all yours,” you chuckle, waving at their retreating backs when they walk out of the room.

You strip out of your clothes, pulling on a sweater. You sigh, realizing you packed some of Tyson’s sweaters out of habit. His smell infiltrates your senses, making it damn hard to keep your emotions under control. It’s right this moment you know exactly how you feel. Heartbroken. The realization that your relationship with Tyson is really over doesn’t give you the satisfaction you hoped for, it doesn’t give you peace, it just fucking hurts. You simply feel hollow, even though deep down you know this was the right choice, this was what needed to happen. You know damn well why you feel so empty, you gave your heart to Tyson a long, long time ago, never expecting to be in a situation you might get it back. You don’t want it back, but you might need it back.

You realize it’s morning when the light softly shines into your room. You sigh, knowing damn well you’re lucky if you slept more than an hour this night. Rolling over you look at the clock on the wall, 9 am, perfect. Deciding it won’t do you any good if you stay in bed any longer, you force yourself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water warms your cold skin, soothing your sore muscles. All the twisting and turning you did all night surely didn’t help the way you feel right now. Why couldn’t life be a bit easier by simply letting the shower wash away all of your hurt, all of your pain? A fresh start, a clean slate.

You slip on some skinny jeans and a soft sweater, not in the mood to even think about doing your makeup. You dry your hair, before making a quick ponytail out of it. You walk down stairs, the chatter and laughter greeting you as soon as you walk into the kitchen. “Morning, guys,” you say, smiling at all the happy faces before you. A round of greetings sound throughout the room.

“How’d you sleep?” Gabe asks you as soon as you sit down next to him with a bowl of cereal.

“Can’t even tell you, suddenly it was 9 am,” you chuckle, shrugging your shoulders at Gabe’s raised eyebrow. “Do you have any idea where my phone is?” you ask Gabe, knowing he grabbed all your stuff out of your car.

“Uhh, I do, but I don’t know if you really want to look at it,” Gabe says, scratching the back of his head before pointing towards the kitchen counter. It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, walking over to where Gabe’s pointing at.

You unlock your phone, quickly checking your notifications. “Oh damn,” you mutter, looking at the absurd amount of missed calls and messages left by none other than Tyson himself.

You sit back down next to Gabe, dropping your head on your arms. “What do I do now, Gabe?” you groan. “Why does he care all of the sudden?”

Gabe rubs his hand over your back before answering your question. “Because he lost you, y/n. He never thought he would.” You turn your head towards Gabe letting his words sink in.

Gabe gets ready to leave for practice shortly after you settle on the couch with Lucas in your arms. The little man has a fascination with your hair, maybe it’s all babies who have that, but you like to think that you’re special. “Don’t pull out all y/n’s hair, baby boy,” Gabe chuckles, giving his boy a soft kiss on his head. He gives you a kiss on your cheek, softly squeezing your shoulder. You open your mouth to say something, but Gabe cuts you off. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry about it, I’m his captain, but I’m your friend, okay? Just relax, make sure Lucas doesn’t puke on you and go do whatever it is that you women do all day,” Gabe chuckles, knowing you better than you know yourself. You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to him, wishing him good luck with practice before he runs through the house trying to find his girls to kiss them goodbye.

“Your daddy is a good guy, you know that, Lucas?” you smile at the baby on your lap. Lucas coos, his hands grabbing onto the strands of your hair. “Your daddy and mommy make me feel so loved, even though their children like to see me in pain,” you joke, trying to free your hair from Lucas’s small hands. “Buddy, you’re way stronger than you look,” you mumble, when Lucas pulls on your hair again.

Melissa laughs out loud the moment she walks into the living room. “How many times did I tell you that you need to keep your hair away from him and his grabby hands?” she says, expertly freeing your hair from her son’s fists.

“Apparently not enough times,” you chuckle at her. Melissa joins you on the couch, while Linnea Rae plays on the ground with some of her toys, happily showing you what she got every now and then. It’s times like this that you’re extra grateful for Melissa and Gabe, the way they welcomed you into their family has been nothing but perfect.

“So, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Melissa asks, while scrolling through series to watch on Netflix.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, I’m kind of worried about practice, I think? I don’t want to put Gabe in this position,” you say, keeping your eyes on Lucas.

“You know Gabe would do anything for you, huh? You don’t know how many times he came home utterly frustrated by the way Tyson treated you. He never said anything, because you were still with him, I can’t promise you he will stay quiet this time,” Melissa says, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll be fine, this isn’t Gabe’s first rodeo.”

You look at Melissa, who simply gives you a wink. “I know, I know. I just don’t want him to get in trouble or anything,” you say, smiling back at her. You trust and know Gabe, so hopefully there won’t be a lot of trouble today.

“If he does though, he probably deserves it.”

Gabe surprises you all with some takeaway when he gets home from practice. It’s been nice eating with other people for change, it’s been way too long. The amount of lonely dinners has been through the roof lately. Gabe nudges you with his elbow, causing you to look up at him. “No frowning at the table.”

Melissa rolls her eyes at her husband while you just stick out your tongue at him. “Sure, dad,” you say, causing Melissa to almost choke on her bite of food before she lets out a loud laugh.

“Yeah, dad. Leave us alone,” Melissa laughs, winking at her husband. Gabe shakes his head at you and Melissa, a grin plastered on his face.

It’s during dessert you find the courage to ask about Tyson. You weren’t sure if you needed to ask Gabe, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to know anything, but now you know you do. “So, did anything happen during practice?” you ask him, playing around with your spoon.

Gabe shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Not much, just some chirping. Told him I’m his captain and he needs to fucking focus on practice. That seemed to do the trick,” Gabe says, shrugging his shoulders, continuing to eat his dessert.

You look across the table at Melissa who has the same expression on her face as you. Not convincing at all. ‘Sure,’ Melissa mouths at you from across the table. You shake your head at her, furrowing your eyebrows at Gabe’s statement. ‘Nope,’ you mouth back at her, finishing your dessert. You decide to let it go, you don’t even know why you care so much. You shouldn’t, right? You broke things off with Tyson, so why do you care so much what he does and thinks? The answer to that question is pretty simple the longer you think about it. Because you still love him, that’s why.

You thank everyone for dinner and dessert, promising to cook something from them later this week. Right now all you can think about is your bed and a decent night of sleep. God, that sounds like a true dream right now. You strip out of your clothes, crawling into the soft and cozy bed. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep, showing just how exhausted you truly are.

The weeks that follow are filled with all kinds of activities, the 5 of you falling back into a comfortable rhythm, surprising you considering the situation you’re in. It isn’t every day you take in the ex-girlfriend of one of your teammates, or your best friend, whatever way you want to see things. When you aren’t working you spend a lot of time with the kids, trying to make things easier for Melissa and Gabe whenever they are busy or simply need some time for the two of them. You happily take on some of their care, even if it’s as simple as making sure they get their food in time. Honestly they are two of the sweetest children you’ve ever come across, they always find ways to make you laugh, even though most of the time it isn’t on purpose.

It’s been quiet around the house tonight, Melissa went out with a few of her friends, while she left Gabe and the kids with you. Apparently she needed some ‘alone time’ which didn’t include kids, and definitely didn’t include Gabe after he mentioned he wanted some ‘alone time’ with her as well. You love their friendly bickering, the love they have for each other visible in everything they do. So when Melissa gave her husband a dirty look and flipped him the bird the only logical thing to do was to start laughing at their exchange. “Have fun with them, sweetheart!” Melissa had yelled at you when she walked through the door, leaving the four of you behind.

Together you decide to just have a movie night. It’s late enough for both children to be asleep already, yet early enough to squeeze in a full size movie marathon. “Gladiatorrrrr!” Gabe exclaims excitedly while scrolling through the movie selection on Netflix, pausing on his all-time favorite movie.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please no, have mercy, Gabe,” you laugh, knowing damn well you’re going to sit through this movie again. How many times has it been already? 12? You wouldn’t even be surprised. This dude really loves his movie. You look at Gabe from between your fingers, seeing the look on his face which makes you groan even more. “Fineeee, one more time, Gabe. One more time,” you whine at him, secretly enjoying his taste in movies, something you don’t plan on telling him ever.

It’s a little after 10pm when the doorbell rings. You look at Gabe, who looks just as surprised as you are. “It’s a bit early for Mel, don’t you think?” Gabe asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Definitely, unless she drank the whole bottle of champagne again,” you chuckle, thinking back at one of the craziest parties you’ve ever been to with Mel and Gabe.

“Oh God, please don’t remind me of that,” Gabe shudders at the memory of that night, standing up to see who’s on the other side of the door.

Gabe hates to say that he isn’t surprised to see Tyson’s face as soon as he opens the door. Honestly he had expected him at his door days, maybe even weeks ago. The moment Tyson found out you were staying with Gabe he broke, Gabe expected him to fight, to yell, to scream, he expected him to do anything except cry. Which is exactly what Tyson did, breaking down in the middle of practice. For a moment the whole place went quiet, only Tyson’s cries echoing throughout the building. No one knew how to act, no one knew what to do, until Gabe realized he’s the captain for a reason. On and off the ice. It was a weird experience, one Gabe still feels extremely conflicted about. He comforted his teammate, his friend, while his other friend was at his home, utterly heartbroken, trying to get over the guy who was bawling his eyes out on the ice.

After Tyson got over the initial shock the anger took over, just as Gabe expected. It made him almost drop the gloves, something he tried to avoid, not wanting to hurt Tyson. He let him say his things, things that absolutely didn’t make any sense, until he got everything out of his system. “Now can we continue this fucking practice, Jost?” Gabe told him after everything calmed down. Gabe tried to avoid the Tyson/y/n topic as much as possible after that, not wanting to get in the middle of things more than he already was. Until tonight apparently.

Gabe raises an eyebrow at the boy before him. “Why are you here, Tyson?” Gabe sighs, already knowing the answer to that question.

Tyson looks around, eyes flickering from left to right, clearly uncomfortable being here. “I, uh, can I talk to y/n? I know she’s here,” Tyson asks, scratching the back of his head before putting them back in his pockets.

Gabe shakes his head at him. “You can’t, if she wants to talk to you she will find a way to contact you. As long as you don’t get your shit together and prove to me, but most of all to her, that you’ve changed, I won’t let you anywhere near her,” Gabe declares, starting to get annoyed with the way Tyson acts. There’s no way he lets him close to you until you feel like you’re ready to see him again, no way.

Tyson opens his mouth, but Gabe gives him a look that immediately shuts him up again. “I’m saying this as your captain, and definitely not as your friend right now. Go home and leave her the fuck alone. You had your chance, you fucked up and now you have to deal with the consequences. How you deal with those said consequences is up to you, but I suggest you leave now and think about everything you did and didn’t do, okay?” Tyson nods his head, turning around to walk back to his car.

When he’s a few steps away from his car he turns around, smiling sadly at Gabe. “She’s my home, Gabe. Home doesn’t feel the same without her. You out of all people should understand that.”

Gabe chuckles low, shaking his head at his clueless teammate. “I do. I do know what home feels like, but I never, never choose anyone or anything over my ‘home’. Never. You sure as hell did, time after time,” Gabe says frustratedly, before shutting the door, leaving behind an even more frustrated Tyson.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you caught the sound of Tyson’s voice when you walked to the kitchen, grabbing some more popcorn. You didn’t mean to listen to their conversation, but it felt like you were glued to your place, unable to take another step, unable to do anything but listen.

Gabe walks back into the room, the look on your face immediately letting him know you know. “How much did you hear?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly.

“Enough,” you whisper, before breaking down, no longer able to keep the tears locked away, no longer able to keep your emotions to yourself.

With two steps Gabe is in front of you, grabbing the bowl of popcorn you held onto between your trembling fingers. He guides you back to the couch, urging you to sit down, which is a true challenge for someone who can barely feel the ground they walk on. Gabe wraps his arms around you the moment you sit down, allowing you to cry onto his shoulder as much as you want and need. He whispers sweet nothings while softly brushing your hair out of your face, making sure you have room to breath. Time after time Gabe proves what kind of friend he is, always making sure to be there for you when he’s needed, always doing things with the best intentions. Even if it’s just holding you until you calm down, even if it’s just speaking the truth against Tyson, even if it’s just simply being there for one another.

“Sooner or later he would’ve realized what he lost, what he gave up for an evening of clubbing or God knows what. Apparently it’s sooner rather than later, however make sure you make him work for it, if you ever decide you want to give the two of you another chance,” Gabe softly advises you, when you finally calmed down a bit.

“I will, you know I love him, Gabe. But I don’t know if I should?” you mumble, not sure if it’s a question Gabe has the answer to.

“Sometimes the heart wants what it wants. If he’s serious about you, he will work his ass off to earn back your love and trust, I promise you,” Gabe comforts you, after knowing Tyson for so long he’s positive he knows that Tyson goes above and beyond to get what he wants in life.

Maybe it’s Gabe’s comforting words, maybe it’s knowing deep down Tyson still cares, maybe it’s your own strength, but for the first time in a while you feel a tiny flicker of hope, a little bit of light at the end of the dark tunnel. Maybe, just maybe this was all worth it, maybe this is what needed to happen to get better and move forward. Maybe this is how it was supposed to go.

It’s a weird feeling, knowing your ex still cares about you, but also knowing you aren’t ready to let him back into your life like that. You don’t feel like you’re capable of seeing him yet, let alone talk to him. The need to know how he’s doing, how he’s holding up grows, but also confuses you. It’s simply a weird and confusing situation to be in. Choosing between two, maybe even more ways to handle this, while also waiting for Tyson to make a move, which he obviously can’t since you don’t want to see him or speak to him, is a hard task. A task that will require a lot of thinking. You just need a bit more time to gather your thoughts, give all of your confusing feelings a place, while making sure you put yourself first, you need to put yourself first this time.

So when Gabe invites you to one of his home games a few weeks later you say ‘yes’ right away. It seems like the perfect time and place to see Tyson from a distance again, without putting too much stress on yourself, you can just watch and enjoy the game, you don’t have to force anything. Of course your seats turned out to be way closer to the ice than you expected them to be, although... what did you exactly expect with Gabe? You know he’s been talking to both of you, kind of acting like some sort of messenger. He tried to keep it casual, just slipping in some information during a conversation, but you noticed what he was trying to do. Frankly you’re thankful for his meddling.

Steadily your heart starts to beat faster and faster the more players appear on the ice to warm up. When Gabe appears you aren’t surprised to see Tyson close to him, knowing Gabe they probably had a little chat before they went on the ice. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours the moment he’s close by, completely forgetting the ability to skate. You gasp when he lands on his ass on the ice, earning himself a round of laughter from the people around him, including Melissa and you. Gabe skates over to him, extending his hand and helping him upright again, but not before clearly telling him he’s ‘a dumbass’. Now that’s something you can agree on.

You know Tyson has something up his sleeve when he skates off to the bench, clearly busying himself with something you can’t see. After a few more stolen glances at each other Tyson skates closer and closer to you, until he’s right in front of the glass. His left hand catches your attention, until he gives you a small and almost shy smile. “Look at him, he’s blushing!” Melissa whispers next to you. You shoot her a quick ‘shut up’ look, before you focus your attention back on Tyson.

Tyson shows you the puck in his gloved hand, mouthing to you to catch it. It takes him two tries before the puck lands on the other side of the glass, safely in your hands. Tyson gives you one last quick smile before he skates off to get ready for the game. Melissa nudges you softly, bringing you back from your thoughts. “So, what’s on there?” she asks, knowing damn well you haven’t even checked.

“I don’t know if I want to look, Mel,” you tell her honestly. Melissa gives you a sad smile, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s look together?” she suggests. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, how much can you actually write on a puck? He seemed happy to see you, so there’s no need to be nervous that it’s a bad thing. You look at the puck, turning it around in your hands so you can read the whole thing. ‘Talk after the game?’ is written on the puck, you immediately recognize Tyson’s handwriting and his little smiley face, or.. something that should resemble a smiley face.

“That wasn’t that bad, right?” Melissa asks softly, squeezing your shoulder.

“What if I’m not ready?” you ask her, a question that has been on your mind a lot lately.

“Then you take a step back, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, you don’t have any obligations. But he’s trying, y/n. You’ve heard all of Gabe’s stories, you’ve seen it yourself just now. It can’t hurt to at least talk to him.” You think about Melissa’s words, she does have a point there. Talking is something you should’ve done ages ago, or at least Tyson should’ve done that. So this is progress, he’s at least trying this time, that’s more than he used to do.

It’s hard to keep the smile off your face, you can’t even pinpoint why exactly you’re smiling. Whatever the reason is, it’s a good feeling to smile again. The game sure as hell plays a big part in it, the guys are on fire, scoring goal after goal, never giving the puck away for long. There’s barely any time for you to give Tyson a thumbs up, indicating you’re up for a talk after the game. Whenever you look at Tyson when he’s off the ice he’s smiling, whether it is to himself or to one of his teammates, that smile won’t leave his face.

You follow Melissa down to the locker room after the game is over. You’ve done this so many times, but this time it couldn’t be more different. You greet all the girls who are patiently waiting on their man, getting enough comforting words from them to last you a lifetime. When the door to the locker room opens you come face-to-face with Mikko, someone you haven’t seen in a while. Mikko’s face lights up when he spots you outside the locker room. “y/n! I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says, while hugging you tightly.

“I missed you too, goof. It’s great to see you,” you smile at him, wiggling out of his iron grip. Dude’s definitely stronger than he looks.

“Between you and me, Tyson’s a good kid, he just needed to grow up a bit,” Mikko whispers against your ear, before leaving you alone again.

You raise your eyebrow at Melissa, who just shrugs her shoulders. Weird. After a few more minutes Gabe and Tyson appear in front of you, both of them joking around. Tyson nervously looks around, not sure if he should come any closer. Gabe hugs you swiftly before throwing his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Make sure you bring her home safely, Jost,” Gabe warns him, before quickly saying goodbye to both of you.

You watch them leave, your mouth agape by the way they just left you here. Rude. “Did they just really do that?” you ask no one in particular, still shocked by their actions.

You turn around, looking back at Tyson, who still appears to be nervous. Is he nervous to talk to you? Why would he be nervous? It’s just you. “Hi there,” you smile, looking up at the man in front of you.

“Hi beautiful, it was nice seeing you tonight,” Tyson softly says, giving you a small smile.

Your insides flutter with his use of words, it’s nice hearing them even though you’re not completely sure if he means them the way you hope he does. “It was. You played great, I had a lot of fun,” you say, smiling at the proud look that crosses Tyson’s face for a moment.

Tyson leads you back to the rink, which is now completely deserted, thinking it would be a nice place to chat. For a while the two of you fall back into small talk, ‘how’s life?’, ‘how’s work?’, all that bullshit. You know Tyson and you are avoiding the actual topic that needs to be discussed, or topics? Whatever it is, there’s a lot to talk about. “I missed it here, I forgot how much I loved being here,” you tell Tyson, looking at the lights that lighten up the place, thinking back at the memories full of fun and happiness you both created here.

“I missed you, baby,” Tyson blurts out, completely catching you off guard.

Your eyes shoot back to his, you feel the panic rising inside your body. “Tyson...,” you start, warning him he’s walking on thin ice here.

Tyson’s face falls a bit, seeing the anxious look on your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Tyson groans, rubbing his face harshly, utterly frustrated with himself and the situation.

It’s quiet for a minute, both of you completely lost in thoughts. “Why is this so hard? We used to be able to talk about anything and everything. What changed, y/n?” Tyson wonders out loud.

You feel a painful pang in your heart, because you know damn well what changed. “You did, Tyson. You changed,” you almost whisper, the truth behind those words more clear than ever before.

You watch as Tyson’s whole composure changes in the blink of an eye, in just a split second he goes from the ‘happy’ guy to the guy who’s just as heartbroken as you are. “I did, didn’t I?” Tyson whispers, the tears pooling in his eyes. “I fucked this up, how could I be so stupid?” he mumbles, burying in face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I regret this more than I could ever admit to you. I’m so sorry, baby,” Tyson cries, trying to keep his eyes focused on you. It’s hard to keep your own tears at bay when the guy you love so much has a breakdown in front of you, so you don’t. You just let them fall.

You don’t make a move to comfort him, you do give him room to let it all out, give him time to gather his composure again. “I looked through the box, the one you left on our bed?” Tyson says, his voice still broken, still thick with emotion. You nod your head, it was something you hoped he would do. “I had no idea you kept all of that throughout the years,” Tyson smiles weakly at you. “It made me realize what a moron I have been these past few months, maybe even longer,” he continues, shaking his head in disappointment. You listen intently at him, this, this is what you hoped for all this time: realization.

“I’m not telling you that you weren’t a moron, because you absolutely were. But I’m glad you came to the same conclusion.”

Tyson chuckles at your statement, giving you half a smile. “I know, I’m a dumbass. I’m a dumbass for acting this way and a dumbass for letting you go. Any guy would be on top of the world with you by his side, and I just let you slip through my fingers,” Tyson tells you, finally showing he knows he’s been a fool all this time, he knows he let something special go.

“Is it too late for us? Can you give us another chance?” Tysons asks you, his eyes flickering between you and the ground.

You sigh softly, knowing this question would come. It’s something you gave a lot of thought, something that crossed your mind daily. “I don’t know, Tyson. I really don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, you know? I can’t just look past that, I need to heal from that,” you tell him. Tyson nods his head, a guilty expression on his face. “You made me feel worthless every single day. You didn’t even give me a second of your time day after day. All you cared about was being away. Being away from me?”

It’s right that moment Tyson interrupts you by grabbing your hands. “No. No. That’s not true, you need to believe me,” he tells you as fast as he can.

“But how can I believe you when you never gave me a reason to? Your actions showed me exactly that, Tyson. I need answers, I need to know why,” you exclaim, starting to panic again, your anxiety taking over.

“Easy, baby. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, everything you want, but right now I need you to breath. Breathe, baby,” Tyson says softly, trying to calm your shallow breathing back down to normal. “Listen to my breathing, try to follow the way I breathe.” You do as he says, following the rise and fall of his chest, gaining back control of your own breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, while Tyson just shakes his head at you, letting you know it’s okay. “Can you take me home, Ty? We can talk later, okay?” you ask him, suddenly feeling the need to crawl underneath the covers of your bed and just simply sleep for a while.

“Anything you want, y/n,” Tyson says, leading you out of the room and back to his car. You’re pretty sure he mumbled something under his breath, something very closely resembling ‘your home isn’t there, it’s with me’.

The drive to Gabe takes longer than expected, giving you more time to think about Tyson’s earlier question. You still need and want to know how he spent his nights, where he spent his nights, and why he acted like you didn’t exist. That conversation might need to wait until another day, you aren’t up for any more information, any more realizations, you still need to process everything you heard, saw and felt today.

Tyson stops the car in front of Gabe’s house, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. You know he still hopes he gets an answer to his earlier question, and you want to give him at least that. “You need to show me you changed, Tyson. Show me you changed for real and I’ll try to get past everything that happened. I can’t promise you anything,” you tell him softly, meaning everything you just said.

Tyson nods his head, a smile of relief on his lips. “I will, I promise you I will show you I changed and that you’re everything to me. I promise, baby.”

So that’s exactly what Tyson does the next few weeks, every free moment he tries to show you just how much you mean to him, without smothering you. Whether it’s taking you out for dinner, although you’re still waiting for Tyson to actually make you dinner by himself one day, to small coffee dates and fresh flowers at work. It’s been a lot to process, a lot of adjusting to this ‘new’ Tyson, or rather seeing the ‘old’ Tyson again. And you missed him, God you missed him so much.

Tyson seems happier, more at peace with himself these days, it’s a pleasant change. Often you wondered what was really going on inside his head, but you stopped trying after he waved it off again, and again, and again. The late night phone calls, or facetiming during road trips have become a habit again, something you didn’t think you would ever experience again with him. You still take things slow with Tyson, deciding to rather allow yourself to slowly start trusting him again than diving head first into a relationship again. Maybe it will never come that far again, you don’t know how the future will look like for the two of you, but for now it’s enough.

You come face-to-face with a smirking Melissa when you get home from yet another ‘iced coffee and donut’ date, even though you’re pretty sure Tyson isn’t allowed to eat any donuts. “Oh no,” you groan at Melissa’s expression.

“It’s time we have a little sister-sister conversation, don’t you think?” she asks you, ushering you into the living room.

“Do we?” you groan again, not in the mood to handle whatever Melissa wants to talk about now, because you already know it’s either about you, Tyson or you and Tyson.

Melissa flops down on the couch, patting the place next to her, indicating for you to sit your ass down. “Did you already talk to him about it?” she asks, straight to point in pure Melissa-style.

You let your head fall back against the cushions, sighing loudly. “I didn’t. We’re doing great, we’re having fun. I’m going to ruin it if I start asking questions again.”

Melissa stays quiet for a minute, trying to figure out the right way to approach this sensitive topic. “You know you deserve the truth, right? You can’t rebuild a relationship when not everything’s on the table, sweetheart,” Melissa says softly, knowing you’re struggling with this.

“I promise I’ll talk to him after the road trip, I don’t want to create any unnecessary negative energy before,” you promise Melissa, although she gives you a ‘who are you trying to fool here’ look before switching topics.

A few days later you find yourself back at Tyson’s place. It’s weird being here, knowing you don’t live here anymore. Nothing changed, absolutely nothing, Tyson kept everything the way you did, whether it’s out of laziness or out of hope you’ll come back on day. Either way it’s weird coming back to a place that’s no longer your home. You came here to talk, nothing more nothing less. You promised Mel you would, and if you’re being honest with yourself it’s time to know the truth, time to reopen old wounds and finally get some answers. You’ve grown closer and closer to Tyson, without knowing everything, without knowing you’d be able to forgive him if he ever made a misstep. It’s time.

Tyson has been a nervous wreck ever since you called him last night after he returned from the road trip to St. Louis. He knew this was coming, but he prayed you would simply forget, even though he knows that’s not fair at all. He can’t excuse his behavior, and he won’t, not anymore. You deserve nothing but the truth, the full truth. He’s not proud of it, but you leaving him opened his eyes, showed him he really needed to change. Tyson feels like that’s something he truly did, he changed for the better, he can only hope you’ll feel the same way. He can only hope you’re still on the same path after tonight.

“You did great these last games, Ty,” you smile at him. You’re proud of the way he’s been performing these last couple of games, he really stepped up his game.

“I know you didn’t come here to talk about my performances on the ice, so can we please skip the pleasantries?” Tyson sighs, catching you completely off guard with his rather harsh approach. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I’ve just been so fucking nervous since you called me,” Tyson curses, frustratedly brushing his fingers through his curls.

“You’re right though, I did come to talk. I think it’s time we lay all our cards on the table,” you tell him, nodding at your own answer.

You nervously bite on your lip, playing with the cup of water in your hand. It isn’t every day you ask your ex these questions. Questions you want the answers to, question you maybe don’t even want to hear the answers of. “I need to know if you cheated on me, Ty,” you blurt out, keeping your eyes on the ground, not wanting to see the look on Tyson’s face.

“Look at me, baby,” Tyson says, urging you to look up at him. “I never cheated on you, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”

You shake your head at him, not knowing what to do with these emotions surging through your body. “It doesn’t make sense, Ty. Where were you all those nights? Where were you every time I lay in bed alone waiting for my boyfriend to come home? Waiting if he actually comes home this time or stays out all night again? Where were you?” At this point you’re past the civil conversations, past the friendly banter, you need answers, you need to know why he did what he did. The reason doesn’t even matter at this point, you need to know why. Why did he leave you alone so many nights, worrying about his well being, worrying about if he would come home at some point?

“Fuck, y/n! I know I fucked up, I know I did. But I swear on everything, I swear on my career, I swear on you that I never, never, touched another woman. I never kissed another woman, I never even danced with another woman, I did not cheat on you,” Tyson exclaims, hoping, praying you hear what he’s saying, that you’ll believe him. He didn’t do anything with another person, it was always you, it still is only you and he’ll do everything in his power to prove that to you every damn day.

“Then where were you, Ty? If you weren’t with another woman, then where the fuck were you every night you didn’t came home? Please enlighten me, because I’m so lost, so fucking lost,” you say, feeling utterly frustrated with yourself, with Tyson, with this shitty situation.

Tyson takes a deep breath, placing his cup back on the table. “Shitfaced drunk to the point I couldn’t even remember my own name, or so stoned I saw freaking elephants running all around town. Spending my money on unnecessary shit at clubs and bars, all to forget, trying to forget the fact that I had a perfect girlfriend waiting for me at home, while I did stupid shit. Fuck, this sounds even worse out loud than in my head,” Tyson groans, burying his face in his hands.

“But...,” you start, before Tyson cuts you off.

“I felt ashamed and guilty, y/n. Ashamed I let it get that far every time, guilty I didn’t tell you, guilty I didn’t come home again. One of the guys would just take me back to their place out of sympathy, letting me crash on their couch, trying to sleep off my haze.”

You try to come up with words to say, with anything but nothing comes out, you just feel.. empty? “I don’t understand, Tyson,” you say, at this point not even sure what you don’t understand.

“I tried, y/n. I tried to just come clean, but I couldn’t when you were so nice all the time, I couldn’t when I knew you would hate it, hate me. You know I’m a fucking lightweight, that makes it even worse. But those are no excuses, there aren’t any. I fucked up,” Tyson sighs, giving you a sad smile, “I couldn’t face you, I didn’t know how to show you my vulnerable side without letting it change the way you saw me. I didn’t want you to see me any different, but I didn’t notice I changed until you packed your bags and left me standing in the doorway.”

You’re absolutely speechless, there are so many things you want to say but you can’t form any sentences, any words. You just stare at him, your mind racing with an unlimited amount of thoughts. “Are you okay, baby?” Tyson asks softly, reaching out to put his hand on your arm.

You shake your head from side to side, wiping away the tears that spilled out. “I’m not okay, I’m definitely not okay,” you tell him. “I feel terrible knowing you didn’t feel like you could come to me, like you couldn’t talk to me. I’ve always been your biggest supporter, nothing would’ve changed that, Ty.”

Tyson gently wipes the tears away from underneath your eyes, scooting closer to where you’re seated. “Come here, baby,” he softly says, opening his arms for you. You hesitate for a second, not knowing if this is the right thing to do. Fuck the right thing, you definitely need a hug right now, and judging by Tyson’s facial expression he needs one as well. You lean forward, putting your arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his body. How long has it been since you hugged each other? You can’t even remember, way too long. Tyson closes his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to his own body.

“I missed this, Ty. I missed you,” you confess, the feeling of his arms around you, the feeling of Tyson, bringing back so many memories, so many happier times.

“I know we still have a long way to go, but I hope we’ll do this together. I can’t even tell you how great it feels to have my arms around you again, even if it’s just for a moment,” Tyson says, after you both let go of each other.

“We do, but I’m in if you’re in, Ty,” you agree, wanting nothing more than to work through the issues you still have. It’s time to forgive, time to let go, time to change and time to move on.

“I’m all in.”

The talk you had with Tyson that Wednesday evening did wonders for the both of you. You still had a long way to go before you were even remotely close to where you used to be with Tyson, but the most important thing was that you were working on things. Slowly, but steadily the two of you worked on trusting each other again, telling each other important things again, just simply working on being in a healthy relationship again. Although the word never came up, you were nowhere near ready for that commitment, so you settled on something less intimidating. Friends.

It was supposed to be a regular, normal Friday evening with just Melissa and the kids. Gabe and Tyson were playing one of their most important games this season, both of them begged you to come, but it was too late to find a babysitter. Not wanting to be by yourself there and leaving Mel alone, you decided to sit this one out as well, promising to cheer them on in front of the tv. It’s the least you could do. So there you are, seated on the couch wearing your Jost jersey for the very first time again, just as you promised. Weird, like nothing ever changed, even though the exact opposite is true.

You’re bouncing a giggling Linnea Rae on your knee, looking down at her adorable mini jersey. “Look it’s your daddy!” you exclaim excitedly, pointing at the closeup shot of Gabe.

“Daddy!” Linnea Rae giggles just as excited.

You catch Mel softly smiling at your little interaction with her daughter, enjoying the love you share for each other. It’s been a blessing to have you around here, the way you care for her children, but also for her and her husband has been phenomenal. Mel couldn’t wish for a better friend, for a better sister than you.

“Oh no,” you whisper when Tyson gets slammed hard into the glass. Melissa grabs your hand, squeezing softly.

“He’s going to be fine, he’s a tough guy,” she says, trying her best to comfort you. And he is, like the tough guy Tyson is, he gets up again, shaking off the hard hit. The game continues and you’re glad Tyson is fine, skating like he didn’t just get squeezed between a glass wall and a 200 pound hockey player.

All goes well until Gabe decides the best place to smack his stick is directly against Tyson’s face, again. “Not his face, Gabe! Not his fucking face again!” you yell at the screen, thanking Mel for already putting the kids to sleep.

“Shit, that looks bad,” Melissa almost whispers, squeezing your hand again.

You don’t know many things for sure in life, but you sure as hell know Tyson will be spotting a black eye for weeks. But like the tough guy he already proved to be, he just goes on with the game, trying his absolute best to work as hard as he can, giving himself completely to the game, anything to get his team the victory.

“That’s the second time you gave my man a black eye, Gabe. Why do you keep hurting him?” you whine the second Gabe walks into the living room. For a moment the room stays awfully quiet, until you realize what you just said. “I really said that, huh?” you ask, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“You sure did. But I’m sorry, it was an accident. Again,” Gabe chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Uhu, again,” you say, rolling your eyes at your best friend.

Gabe grins at you, flopping down on the couch next to Mel. “I’ll try not to hurt his pretty face again, okay?” Gabe laughs, shaking his head at you in a playful way.

“Is it weird if I, you know.. went over to check up on him?” you ask your friends, suddenly insecure about the thought of just showing up at his door.

Gabe gives you a soft smile. “I’m absolutely convinced he’d love that, y/n,” Gabe says, pulling Melissa closer to him.

“I know he would, sis,” Melissa agrees with her husband.

“Fine, okay. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” you tell the two lovebirds before finding your stuff and almost running out of the front door.

You’re giddy the entire drive to Tyson’s apartment. This could go two ways, either it goes extremely well or this backfires completely. You’re hoping for the first one. Seeing Tyson get hurt gave you some realizations. One of them is that you absolutely hate to see him hurt, and you want nothing more than to be there for him, care for him, to tell him everything will be alright. Which brings you to your second discovery of the evening: you still love him, you’re still completely and utterly in love with Tyson. You can’t, really can’t imagine your life without Tyson in it. It’s your turn to tell him you need him, tell him you don’t want to do anything without him, tell him you still see a future together.

You pick up his favorite comfort food on the way over, cake. You know his nutritionist will hate you for this, but he deserves a treat after taking a stick to the face. You chuckle to yourself when you think of the small cake you bought, it’s stupid and childish, but you love it. The fun you already had makes it absolutely worth it. You park in front of the building, hopping out of the car and quickly making your way over to the floor Tyson occupies.

You rummage around in your coat pocket for the lighter you bought alongside the cake. Quickly placing the cover back into the bag, and lighting up the ‘2’ shaped candle. You snicker to yourself, enjoying this way too much. You knock on the door and patiently wait for Tyson to open up. You hear Tyson approaching, making it harder and harder to keep your composure.

The moment he opens the door his face shifts from slight annoyance, to confused, to happy, and back to confused again. “y/n?” he asks softly, looking between you and the cake, confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Happy second black eye!” you yell, before bursting out in laughter.

Tyson can’t help but join you in your laughter, if there’s one thing he loves about you, it’s your wicked sense of humor. “You really are something special, aren’t you?” Tyson chuckles, shaking his head softly at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“You tell me, Jost,” you say, giving him a wink before walking past him and inside his apartment.

“So you bought me a cake?” Tyson asks you, looking over your shoulder to the cake on his kitchen counter.

“I sure did, thought you’d deserved a treat after what Gabe did to you, again,” you laugh.

“He sure likes to hit me in the face with things. But thank you, this really means a lot to me, baby,” Tyson softly says, squeezing your hip with one of his hands, before grabbing two plates. While Tyson cuts the cake you look for something to drink, deciding water will do for the night.

You flop down on the couch next to Tyson, immediately bringing the fork with a piece of cake to your mouth. “Oh God, that’s so good,” you moan out, you picked some killer cake.

“Don’t make those noises, please,” Tyson groans, stuffing his face with cake.

“I’m sorry I picked such a good freaking cake, mister,” you laugh, nudging him with your foot. Tyson rolls his eyes playfully at you, grabbing your foot with his free hand before you can nudge him again and again.

“Movie?” Tyson asks after you both finished your plates, although Tyson finished the last few bites of your piece. Like he said he’s a needy and hungry man.

“Sure, but just something light and funny, Ty. Nothing dark,” you tell him, knowing he’d love to scare you throughout some horror movie.

While Tyson scrolls through the movies, you make yourself more comfortable on the couch, laying back against the cushions with your feet against Tyson. He looks at you, scanning your body, clearly thinking about something since his eyebrows keep furrowing and relaxing.

“Come here, Tyson,” you softly say when he finally picks a movie to watch, opening your arms for him. His eyes shoot to yours, like he can’t actually believe you just told him that. He gives you a quick smile, before moving towards you, laying down beside you.

He rests his head against your chest, just like he used to do so long ago, his arm wrapped around your waist. “Is this okay?” he asks you, making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, even though you’re the one who suggested this.

“It’s perfect, Ty,” you reassure him.

Halfway through the movie you can’t resist the temptation to run your fingers through his curls any longer. Tyson groans softly when your nails rake over his scalp, sending chill through your body. “That’s so good, please never stop doing that,” he groans out, pulling you tighter against him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Ty,” you tell him, smiling at the way his eyes shoot to yours.

“You aren’t? Are you serious?” he asks you quietly, eyes still locked on yours.

“I am, love. I came to the conclusion that you’re worth all the risks in life. You’re my light, my guiding light in darkness, my light at the end of the tunnel,” you say, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. You try to express your emotions towards Tyson, trying to make him feel what you felt when you came to the sudden realization he’s worth taking a risk.

“What does that mean, baby?” Tyson asks you softly, an uncertain smile on his lips.

“It means I’m willing to give us another shot, another go. I want to try again, Ty.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips when you look at Tyson’s face, the realization setting in, the happiness and the gratefulness spreading all over his face, the relief flooding through his body.

“How does that work?” Tyson asks again, clearly trying to rid himself of any insecurities, any questions he has. You gladly take those insecurities away from him.

“A clean slate, completely starting over again to give us both a fresh start. How does that sound?” you ask him.

Tyson nods at you, the happiness radiation off him. “A fresh start, I like the sound of that,” Tyson muses. The changes on his face fascinates you, it seems like he goes through a whole range of emotions in just a few minutes. Until he reaches one you know all too well, mischief. He looks at you, the familiar glimmer in his eyes tells you he’s definitely up to something. He sends you a soft and sweet smile, that almost melts you into a puddle right there and then. “Hi, I’m Tyson,” he says, extending his hand to you. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, this is exactly how Tyson is. Funny, charming, an absolute dream.

“You’re a goof, you know that?” you tell him, softly shaking your head at him, but the big grin on your face tells him you loved that. Tyson intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing softly. When he doesn’t make any other moves you take matters into your own hand, slowly leaning in and softly pressing your lips on his. The familiarity, the rush of emotion flooding through your body hits you like a ton of bricks. The feeling of his lips against yours light something deep inside of you, and just like that you finally feel complete again.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #tyson jost x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #tyson jost fanfiction

371 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 4 years

Text

Good Girl [J.JK x Reader]🔞🌼

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, a lil angst

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom!jungkook, sub!Reader, size kink, oral (f & m rec.), mild dd/lg themes, praise kink, cumplay, reader is a virgin, jungkook is lowkey a hoe, a lil heartbreak, Taehyung makes an appearance, long haired jungkook, mentions of harrassment, jungkook punches a guy, strength kink

Jeon Jungkook was known to have a specific type when it came to his partners; tall, gorgeous, dominant and older. It's not like he's a true blood baby boy; he's just too lazy to put any effort into his flings. When a new girl answers to his ad online searching for a roommate for his apartment to share rent and space however, he didn't quite expect such an innocent being to turn up at his doorstep with a box full of pastel colored belongings, ready to move in. And what he definitely didn't expect was his growing interest in her and the feeling of having her under him, all submissive and ready to be ruined.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl || Enticing Girl || Bad Girl || ???

A wink was all he got from the woman who'd occupied his bed together with him last night as she walked out his bedroom door, seemingly knowing how to get out of his apartment. Jungkook ran his hand through his still sweaty hair, groaning after stretching his arms above his head, his mood seemingly sunkissed. He just finished an almost three hour sex-session after all; all without him providing any actual effort. His dick had seemed to be enough for her anyways, her face when she rode him happy, although he could really care less.

Reaching for his laptop near his bed, he didn't bother to put on any clothes for now, just wanting to check if he'd gotten any new E-Mails or messages, clicking through the casual nudes that constantly seemed to slip into his postbox. He cocked his head to the side however when he noticed that a website has notified him of an answer to his ad online; he'd put it up some time ago now after Taehyung, his former roommate, had to move out simply because Jungkook himself couldn't survive the older one's sleep shedule. Tae seemed to never sleep, waking the younger one up on a daily (and nightly) basis. He really tried to get along with him, both of them sharing a deep friendship, but god no, as a roommate he couldn't stand that guy. His rent however was something he struggled as well, so as much as he really wanted to live alone, he couldn't. He clicked the message on the website, his interest peaked.

"Hello. Is this AD still up to date? My name is Y/N, and I'm searching for a place because I'm starting to work close by soon, and its too expensive to take the bus for hours on end every day.. so uh, I don't know? I'm really good at cooking, and I promise I'll be so quiet and organized you won't even notice I'm there! I work at a restaurant nearby as a waitress- I mean, I'm going to, haha. Ugh, I hope you're okay sharing your apartment with a girl as well, I for my part don't have a problem with that! So, I guess, I'll wait for your reply?

Have a nice day!"

He scoffed a little, hovering over the delete button, but instead, he clicked her profile icon, opening the details. Her profile picture showed a white big dog, being hugged by what he assumed was her. He couldn't see her face however, half of her face above her nose cropped out to fit the entire dog instead. He could spot her clothes however; a top and skirt, flat shoes and sheer tights with white spots on them. His brows furrowed, how old was she? Her profile said she was about a year younger than him, every post she'd made up to this date about pet stuff, clothes who all seemed to follow a pastel-color scheme, and artwork you seemed to be selling. You were basically the definition of cute.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Hopefully you wouldn't be too upset when he denied your request, but somehow he thought it over. You said you could cook and you did seem like an organized person. Knowing what kind of effect he could have on people, he could probably scare the shit out of you and keep you around without really having to interact much; and rent was also due this month, so the sooner he found a roommate the better. "Fuck it." He said, and began to type his reply.

When his doorbell rang, he almost burned his hand with the hot water he currently used to make himself a cup of ramen, cursing loudly. Who the fuck wasn't home again so he had to take their package in? One day the old lady across the hall would find a dead rat or something in front of her door, he swore to himself. Ripping the door open with so much force he could feel a bit of wind gushing by, his eyes widened when he saw a similar face in front of him- well, a little below actually. He remembered your lips instantly for some awkward reason, having tried to maybe paint a picture of what you looked like entirely over the last few days. He would've never expected something like this however- you looked like a literal doll in his opinion, your eyes wide open and mouth a little parted, shiny lipgloss making him swallow. Wait, did he really forget that you said you wanted to move in today?!

"I uh.. I'm- I'm Y/N, we- I- the ad..?" You said, your voice sounding nothing like the woman he usually was around. He smirked a little, moving so you could step inside, food now definitely forgotten on the kitchen counter. He really should've at least cleaned up a little he thought. Whatever.

"Yeah, figured. There you go, thats your room. The keys and shit are on the matress, make sure you don't loose 'em." He simply said, before leaving you alone in your new home to settle down.

"What I'm trying to say is, Y/N, you and I, this could really be something!" Taehyung slurred into your ear, loud enough for Jungkook to hear. For some reason it pissed him off to no ends how close the older one seemed to be, constantly hitting on you like he was a starving man, even know half of town knew very well that he wasn't. He could see why; you were innocent, and Tae known to fool around a lot. You were a challenge, something new for him, and he would lie if he said that he wasn't interested as well. Oh he was; but he also had at least some manners left inside of him, contrary to popular belief not only thinking with his dick. Taehyung however was only out for fun, making Jungkook question if he should really let this continue.

He decided no.

"Alright you fucking whore, it's bedtime isn't it? I'll call you a cab." Taehyung groaned at the younger one's words, nodded his head however before looking at you with a smirk.

"Ah, what a shame. But if you wanna have some fun you know my number!" He said, as if he didn't just offer you sex. You blushed at this, not answering, making Jungkook watch you a bit. You really were something else. "Jungkookie, you're so nicee... If I was gay I would definitely suck your dick-" The younger in question made a disgusted yet amused face, putting a hand over the blue haired one's mouth.

"Yeah yeah, you pay me back though you fucker." He said, before going into the kitchen to make the call. Taehyung, being left alone with you again started with his questioning, as he had done the entire night.

"So, Y/N.." He said, dragging out the last syllable of your name playfully, making you shuffle around where you were sitting a bit. He certainly was a pretty attractive guy, but he also seemed to be very straightforward- something you always had struggled with, being more on the shy side. You looked at him, silently urging him to continue before taking a sip of your own beer- cherry flavored, simply because the regular was too bitter in your opinion. "What kind of toys do you use, heh?" He questioned, and you coughed suddenly. Taehyung laughed loudly at that, cooing when you calmed down slowly.

"Taehyung, stop harassing my roommate you fucking idiot. I need her to pay half of the rent-" He said, before sitting down next to you, raising one of his eyebrows at you. "And she also makes some killer lasagna. Kinda wanna keep that." He said, before laughing a bit. Even though Jungkook seemed to be pretty intimidating to you, he was actually a pretty good guy to have around. You both barely ever fought, and overall you could almost see yourself falling for him too- he had the looks after all. But his habit of bringing people over just to satisfy himself was something that made you keep some distance between you both. He wasn't someone to settle down- let alone with someone like you. You were pretty much the exact opposite of what he seemed to like.

Sending Tae home was easier than you both thought. Not being able to go to bed you both decided to watch some late night shows while casually talking- something that wasn't uncommon between you two. Just when you seemed to have gotten comfortable again, Jungkook couldn't help but tease you again.

"So, what Toys do you use, heh?" He said, laughing with his head thrown back afterwards at your red face. This would certainly never get old in his opinion. Just as he was about to apologize and tell you you didn't have to answer, your voice was heard, however.

"None." You said, and his eyes widened at that. "What? Do I look like I do these things to you?" You asked, and he cocked his head to the side a bit, scanning you obviously. He shrugged, and you began to pout, moving to wrap your pastel pink blanket around yourself. "I don't even know how to buy one. That stuff is just.. don't know. Gross." You said, and Jungkook turned on the couch, body facing you now, his interest sparked.

"Gross? So you never had sex before?" He said, and you went silent. Were you serious right now? You were an angel in his eyes, body proportions almost perfect, hell, even your slight imperfections were adorable in his eyes. Up until now he had been sure that you at least have had your fair share of experience, but a virgin? His world was suddenly turned upside down. "Well.. that's something I didn't expect." He said, making you raise your eyebrows at him. "You're hot. Thats why. Oh well." He said, missing the way your eyes widened at that. "I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight." He simply said, and you answered with a short 'goodnight' as well- still a bit surprised by his statement. Jungkook thought.. you were attractive?

He'd somehow gotten used to you, how you would leave your pastel pink but admittedly really soft blanket in a pile on one edge of the couch in the living room, how you sometimes left your toothbrush in the sink when you'd been in a hurry, or how you would hum to a song, not knowing he could hear you very clearly. Maybe he really did go soft after living with you for a while. He still didn't know himself why he got so upset with Taehyung the day prior; was he really being selfish? He was protecting you, nothing more. Taehyung was everything but a gentle lover, jungkook just knew he'd break you for sure, not to mention that you already stated how much you despised one night stands, which were practically Taehyungs speciality. He was just looking after you, nothing more.

The more he thought about it however, the more problematic the entire plan became.

But even now, while the young woman whose name he had already forgotten was giving it her all sucking his dick, all that seemed to swim around in his head were the events of the previous evening; how innocent and embarrassed you looked at him when you told him you'd never bought, let alone use a toy before. Surely you'd be someone to enjoy a good vibrator he thought, maybe as a gag he could buy you one? Oh how enchanting you'd look, spread out on his mattress while he would edge you over and over until you'd be crying, begging for his mercy. He would praise you for taking it so well, for being so good for him and only him, and he just knew you would blush. Instead of rushing to his own satisfaction, he would go slow, agonizingly slow, just to see how far he could push you. He would feast on you like a predator on his prey, pull you close so you had no chance of escaping him, he would trace every curve of your skin, gently, as if to make up for the bruises and Mark's he would surely leave all over you to feed his inner need to claim you, even though he would never let anyone see you like this while he was alive and breathing anyways. He just knew you would fit perfectly underneath him, his body covering you and shielding you away from the world around. Would you be able to take all of him? He probably would have to stretch you real good before even thinking about pushing his dick inside you, yet he just knows you would somehow make him proud and take it all, and he would continue his praises, telling you what a good girl you are.

He almost laughed at the situation, he really was in deep, wasn't he? Frustrated and confused he started to picture someone else entirely kneeled between his legs on the floor, how you'd bat your eyelashes at him like the fucking angel you were instead of the girl currently there, and that thought alone gave him the final push to shoot his load down the strangers throat, who moaned obscenely at the feeling. Usually he would be aroused, ready for more, but the sound of someone who wasn't his little roommate ripped him out of his daydream. This couldn't go on like that. Sending the lady out without many words, he decided that he just needed to fuck you, and all would be good again. He was just curious. Nothing else. He just needed to satiate his hunger and he could go back to normal.

How would he be able to do this without ending up hurting you? No matter how big his hunger for you was, he also considered you somewhat of a friend. He remembered when you came home crying one time after a bad day at work, and how he wanted to hold you, shielding you from any harm, making you feel safe. Because that's what he, and only he could do in his opinion. No matter what, he'd protect you, as weird as that sounded. Shit.

He really had a crush on you.

Unknowing to him you always held your hands over your ears whenever he brought home a different girl, not being able to listen to his moans mixed with someone else's. You were slowly beginning to regret moving in, already starting to think about maybe searching for a different apartment. But the rent was cheap, your room big, and his company relaxing when he wasn't busy being buried in someone he couldn't even remember after a day or two. Somehow tears were leaking out of your eyes, and you took your hands down from the sides of your head to wipe them away, careful to be as silent as possible as to not alert him that you were awake, well aware of the shower turning on. You did notice however how his sessions became shorter and shorter, always seeming to end sudden instead of usual. But the more you thought of it, the more angry at yourself for falling for this manwhore you became. You really should hate him- but you couldn't.

Tonight was definetely the prime example of why you didn't go into clubs. The sheer amount of people around you, the smell of sweat and cheap cologne and perfume all around made you feel like a headache was inevitable. Why were you here again? Oh yes. You followed Taehyungs advice and 'tried to make friends' instad of looming around your apartment all day. But right now you just really wished you stayed home instead of going here.

Sure, you liked your coworkers, and they seemed nice and everything, but if you were being honest, they're definition of fun was entirely not yours. You began to feel cramped up in the large club, making you desperately pull your phone out of your pocket, texting Jungkook in hopes he could save you from this god forsaken torment they called a club.

Minutes later, after Jungkook oh so gentlemanly told you to pick you up, you stood in front of that said location, waiting for his cheap but admittedly nice car to pull up. Sadly, someone else seemed to be way more intent on bringing you home- a young man your age, attractive, yes, but also heavily intoxicated. He had already eyed you up inside the building you noticed, yet hadn't made a move towards you. Now however, he seemed more determined than ever.

"Lets go home baby, I swear you won't regret-" He started, but you moved away from him, clenching onto your little handbag in order to at least keep your belongings safe if he tried anything else. Suddenly both your figures were drowned in the warm light of Jungkook's car lights- you immediately recognized them simply by the fact that one was brighter than the other, something you always told him, yet he always waved you off, telling you that both were doing just fine, even though his left light was clearly almost dead. Typical him, you thought. Yet right now, you couldn't be happier to see him.

He however, did not seem happy at all. His face was serious, his wavy hair hanging a little over his eyes, steps fast and strong enough that you could hear his black boots almost crush the slight gravel of the parking lot. "Fuck off sunnyboy and go back inside." He simply yelled out, having already seen how uncomfortable you were with the stranger so close to you. Jungkook wasn't someone to blindly punch someone, that said however, he couldn't contain himself once he saw the guy reaching out for your arm, your figure instinctively scrambling to get behind Jungkooks way larger body. He didn't even notice his fist connecting with the strangers face, simply leading you by the small of your back inside his car, driving home without any more words.

You were not to be touched by someone so dirty like this young man who didn't even knew his own limits it seemed.

Yet you were completely confused now. Maybe, if you were now the reason he got into physical fights, you should make a decision.

The next morning, sitting down at the kitchen table, you watched Jungkook filling your bowl with cereal as well- lucky charms for you, and chocolate chips for him. It became somewhat of a routine since you both woke up roughly around the same time, sharing breakfast was common. The best moment in your opinion to pop the bomb.

"I'm moving out." You said softly, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, leg nervously bouncing up and down. Why did this feel like you were breaking up with him? You both would've ended up going separate ways sooner or later anyways- so he would probably just nod, ask when, and that would be it. He was someone who didn't bother much. But the second you said it, he turned around completely shocked, suddenly very much awake.

"Why? Did I do something?" He asked, sounding genuinely offended for some reason you couldn't come up with. In his mind, scenario over scenario started to play, as if he wanted to search for something he may have said or done to make you so upset that you didn't want to live with him anymore. He knew he shouldn't be so upset over it, since you and him were merely roommates, friends who shared an apartment, nothing more, but he never really expected you to come up with it so sudden. Or maybe you had a boyfriend? What if it was Taehyung, and you just didn't tell him? He would rip that fucker's stupid blue hair out, he knew-

"No. I- not reall-" You sighed, setting your elbows on the kitchen table before letting your head fall into your hands. "Actually yes, you did." You started, looking at him, but unable to hold eye contact with the now completely confused curly haired boy in front of you. "You.. uh.. I cant sleep. Your, 'guests', the walls aren't really soundproof and like, I really- and just.. ugh this is so awkward, please don't make me say it-" You said, groaning the rest of your sentence before stubbornly shoving your back against the chair, throwing your legs back and forth viciously, reminding Jungkook of a kid who was close to throwing a tantrum. Even though this was definitely not the time to think about you laid out over his leg, his hand hitting your perfectly shaped butt until it was red just to punish you for being such a brat, exactly this picture began to form in the back of his head. He hated himself somehow, really. But somehow instead of accepting your decision, he moved to stand at the table, hands on top of it, eyes searching yours.

"Say it Y/N. You know I hate when I have to pull thing out your throat sweetheart." He didn't intend on using the nickname, but somehow he threw his hesitation out the window. If you really were fooling around with someone, someone who wasn't him he wanted to know- and even if you didn't share that information with him, you would move out anyways, so why hold back anymore? You shook your head at him, avoiding his gaze, and he clicked his tongue, patience slowly thinning out. "Spit it out." He said again, but he still got no reaction. His hand seemed to move without his consent when he suddenly found his fingers on your chin, moving your head to force your attention towards him. "Speak the fuck up, I swear to god." He said, voice dropping down lower, and somehow you seemed as if bewitched.

Maybe it was the way he stood there, how he still held your chin, or how intensely he looked at you, but words dropped out of your mouth as if you drank harry potters truth potion. "I cant stand that you let these girls touch you, that they can get you so easily and you just look past me a- and I really tried you know, because Taehyung said you liked mature girls more so I tried to do that, but he lied to me, you don't notice me at all, you're so mean you-" He shut your mouth with his mouth, trying to process the information he just received, yet it seemed like it was too much at once. You were.. jealous? And what kind of stupid advice was Taehyung giving away, that fucker? It was true that he liked his women to be confident and mature, but that was just so they knew what they were doing, and he didn't need to put so much effort into something he could get so easily.

"So you were jealous?" He said, a small smirk creeping up on him, cooing at you internally when you shook your head, face red. "If you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked. Geez." He said, but instead of being relieved, your shoulders sagged down. "What?" He asked, and you mumbled to him.

"Because I don't want just that one time stuff you do." Jungkook looked at you, eyes softening at your somehow-confession. He just put together the pieces in his head, and it did make sense. You were practically attached to him wherever he took you, always seemingly glowing whenever his attention was on you. He was as much as a dense head than you were, and he couldn't help but pull out a chair and sitting down, patting his legs as an invitation.

"Good, because I don't want that either. And I don't share either." He said, and looked at you gently, but with a deep darkness behind his eyes. "Trust me baby, you can sit down now and I promise you'll be the only one to have me- or you can move out and go on with your life." He almost laughed at the way it suddenly clicked in your head on what he was offering, suddenly jumping up and sitting on his thighs, legs on either side of his body. He looked down at you, a divine picture coming to life. His hands were placed on the exposed skin under your skirt, slowly sliding over the soft skin until his fingers felt the seam of your tights- those goddamn things he'd wanted to rip off of you so badly these past days. "You can touch me, you know?" He said lowly, and you noticed how awkward you must've looked for a second, seated on his lap with your hands in front of you, unsure where to put them. Just to ground yourself, your fingers began to play with his shirt, and he had to swallow the laugh that wanted to break free. "You don't have to do this, you know? I'm fine with waiting-" He began, but you immediately shook your head, however, at loss for words. He smiled again, dangerously so you noticed. His head dipped down, finally touching your skin on your neck with his lips, leaving open mouthed kisses under your earlobe down to the crook, hands moving over your clothes already mapping out your body in his mind, one hand pulling down one side of your soft fleece jacket you wore, pulling down your shirt as well, so he could softly nip at your shoulder, making you gasp oh so cutely at his actions. His hands didn't stop however, moving over your chest, kneading both of your breasts softly, as if he would hurt you if he used too much strength- which was probably the case. He already loved how bis his hands looked running over your body, how your hands held his shirt in fists, eyes closed, yet not because of fear; you looked serene to him, face showing him the soft pleasure you felt. He suddenly moved you a little, making you straddle one of his leg, core pushed against his thigh. "Let's start slow, yeah?" He asked, whispering words into your ear, lips never parting from you. He slowly began to move your hips, urging you to simply follow what you thought felt best to you. "Use me baby. Get off on my thigh." You whined at that, slowly starting to move more and more boldly, and he decided that he was officially a goner. Even if you didn't want him after whatever may be happening, he knew he could never go back. The way you squeezed your eyes shut every now and then, moving back and forth yet always a bit helpless, showing how inexperienced you were. He could feel the wet patch forming on his jeans, his hands moving you a bit faster, before you let your head fall onto his shoulder, making him chuckle. "What is it baby? Do you need help, hm?" He said, a bit mockingly even, and you nodded into his shoulder. "Tell me what you need then. What do you want, princess?" He said, running his hands over your back, feeling your bodyheat through your clothes.

"wanna get the same.. as the others.." You mumbled, unsure what you were even asking for. Jungkook however simply smiled, suddenly lifting you up, hands under your behind carrying you to his room, before finally letting you fall onto his mattress, laughing when your body jumped a little, making you squeak so cutely. He smiled, crawling over you, his fantasy finally coming to life- you looked so lost under him, so utterly defenseless he could swear he could feel something primal awake inside him- and that was not his dick, which already strained against his jeans, impatient.

"Ah but Baby.." He began, taking off your soft jacket before his hands traced your bare arms until he moved them under your shirt, feeling your skin underneath his fingers. "You're my special girl.." He began to lift your shirt up, helping you out of it before he got rid of your skirt as well, chuckling at your cute lacey underwear, which was so typically you. So innocent, yet so arousing, how you squirmed underneath him in nothing but those pastel colored undergarments. "And special girls get special treatments.." His words were low, soft spoken yet with a rough edge to his tone, a natural feature of his voice that you've come to love. You couldn't even begin to paint out a picture of what he was talking about- sure, you have seen your fair share of adult films, you weren't a kid after all- but up until this moment, up until you met Jungkook, you've never really thought about what you could like when it came to these things. Even in your thoughts you felt shy saying any profanities out loud, how could you expect to know about kinks? "But only if you can behave for me, but you can do that right?" He said, unhooking your bra behind your back with ease and interrupting your inner talk with yourself. "You'll be my good girl, yeah?" He said, and you just viciously nodded, already growing frustrated, and oh how he loved it. This was how he had pictured you. If he had known before that this was what it felt like to have control over someone, he would've never done anything else if he was honest; but then again, you really were a special girl to him. The way you suddenly mewled when his hand cupped your heat, giving you a little pressure just to tease you even further almost caught him off guard. God have mercy on his soul, you were so sensitive to him, and it dawned on him again that he was making you this way. He was the first to- and he would make sure he'd be the only one as well. All those noises tumbling out of between your lips were only his to hear. His breathing peaked up at the view he had, how you began to impatiently rut into his hand, needy for more than he was giving you. He leaned back, finally getting rid of his own clothes as well to your satisfaction, lazily throwing his opened flannel as well as his white shirt somewhere on the floor in his room, and you couldn't help but stare. Truth be told, you didn't really know what to expect of him if you were honest, his constant gym visits giving you the impression that he had to be extremely fit, yet his habit of consuming more than two cups of ramen easily spoke differently. He was, in your eyes, the perfect in-between- he definetely was fit, his abs visible to your eyes, yet he didn't look like those over-achievers you sometimes saw walking around the same gym whenever you met him there to go home together. The way his muscles flexed at every move when he loomed over you again made you want to touch him, yet your shy side forbade you. He chuckled again. "You can touch what's yours all you want, you know?" He said, before he began to place his hand back onto your chest, his breath hot on your collarbone where he placed his kisses again, already hooked on your taste. His other, tattooed hand found its way back to your core, feeling the dampness there with amusement. You were more than what he'd imagined. Slowly he got rid of that barrier however, leaving your tights on for his own pleasure and maybe also for the aesthetic of it, his digits circling around your sensitive bud, making you squeal again, putting your hands over your mouth to keep your voice down. He clicked his tongue at this, moving them to lay right under the small of your back. "Be good and keep them there, yeah?" He said, and you looked away.

"But its- thats emb-" You couldn't even finish the beginning of your rant before he went back to his task at hand, sitting back before moving your legs to spread obscenely over his thighs simply to catch a glimpse of your glistening center, before he placed his body over yours again, hand now roughly circling in delicious eights around your clit, making you gasp out.

"Nothing you do is embarrassing, you hear me. If anything its fucking hot how you can be so fucking adorable even with my hand between your legs, doll." He said, before dipping a finger into you, making you move a bit at the foreign feeling. "Gotta stretch you out babygirl.." He said lowly, careful not to get too fast. His second finger joined in, and he could feel how tight you were around them, already clenching a bit as well, making his mouth water, but also growing a bit of worry in the back of his mind. Usually he was quite cocky about his overly average qualities down in his pants, but now he was genuinely concerned to hurt you with it. This was definitely a first for him. "Baby you're so small.. I don't think you can take it.." He said, a bit of a teasing undertone to his words as well. "See? You're already squeezing my fingers so hard princess, how could my dick ever fit inside huh?" He said, contrary to his otherwise rough nature keeping his movements gentle and slow enough for you to adjust without causing much pain. He could see the slight discomfort in your eyes, yet you suddenly shook your head, voice whiny.

"Uh-uh.." You mumbled, and he laughed a bit at that. "can take it.." You said bratty as ever, feeding his ego to no ends. "Wanna have it- you.. you gon' give it right? 'm good.." You said, having troubles keeping your hands under your back just like he told you to, grabbing the sheets underneath you instead to have something to keep yourself grounded.

Jungkook couldn't stop smiling. You didn't even know what you were asking for, yet you seemed so drowned in trust with him, that you simply gave him the right to do anything he wanted with you. "You sure?" He said, and smiled at the way you nodded again with your eyes closed. He moved away after that, shedding his pants before he walked over to his bedside table, fishing out a condom, before moving back to you, your eyes now on him, or more than that, on his very apparent bulge his boxers failed to conceal. Maybe you really did ask for more than you could take. Quite literally. Sensing your growing uneasiness he simply discarded his underwear, cock finally springing free, slapping soundlessly against his abdomen before he sat between your legs again. You made grabby hands for the foil package in his hands, somehow wanting to slip it onto him, yet he shook his head amused. "Nuh-uh baby. I'm afraid if you touch me right now I'll just embarrass myself and come straight away." He said, and you giggled at that. The sound of it brought him back at ease, his little joke having helped to calm you down at least a little bit. He knew this was a big thing, especially for someone like you- and it made him feel even a bit pressured if he was honest. He was slow when he dipped his head inside, your body instinctively trying to move away a bit, but you forced yourself to stay still, eyes now pressed close. Moving around a bit he kept one hand around the base of himself, the other steadying himself next to your shoulder, kissing you on your lips for the first time since you both started, surprising you enough to not notice how he somehow began to glide into you with the help of your arousal and the lubricant of the condom around him. He groaned, the first actual noise he'd made you could tie to his pleasure, and your breathing picked up once you noticed how full you felt. Gasping several times he suddenly started to laugh, making you giggle as well, even though you didn't knew what was so funny in that situation. "God- ugh.. your- fuck you're tight.." He pressed out, fighting hard against his hips' own mind yelling at him to move, to wreck you, to utterly ruin you. But he couldn't allow himself to do that- reassuring himself that he would have time for that at a later date. He slowly started to move around after he calmed down enough, keeping his speed down to keep it gentle for you. "I- fuck.." He started, having to talk to stretch his patience out, and to also ease your mild pain a little bit. "Let's- ugh.. Let's go on a date tomorrow, yeah? I.. god-" He said, and you nodded, moaning in your delicate pitch he oh so loved. "Gonna be all romantic and shit- fuck- gonna treat you like- for Mcdonald's or some shit." He said, making you both laugh between gasps of pleasure, your hands suddenly frantically moving around the sheets, legs shaking as he began to speed up his pace. You didn't knew what an orgasm would feel like, or how you knew you would have one, but you gasped, chocking on unshed tears in frustration as you noticed that you couldn't tumble over that delicious edge, and Jungkook noticed, cooing at you. "Ah, my baby can't come without her little clit being touched?" He said, kissing the side of your neck, biting the skin teasingly before sucking a hickey on your collarbone, his hands now grabbing yours, fingers intertwining with his, before moving them around his neck, sensing how you wanted to be closer to him, even though that hardly seemed possible. "Come for me baby, you can do it." He said, kissing your shoulder as if to make up for his mark he'd left, his hand now reaching between your bodies, only needing to put a bit of pressure on your little nub to send you flying. You moaned out loud, uncaring on how you sounded, clinging onto him for dear life, his own release making him groan out as well.

He could feel your body trembling, your breathing still fast. He waited for a moment or two for himself to soften up so he could pull out gently- your still slightly clenching hole almost pushing his dick out of yourself. You whined at the empty feeling, and he hushed you gently, moving around so he was sitting up against his headboard, your body on his lap, head on his shoulder. His hand moved back and forth over your spine, the other keeping your body steadily against him. "You did so, so good baby." He gently whispered between your breaths still coming out a little faster than they should. "To be honest I actually was kind of worried you wouldn't be able to take it. I'm impressed princess." He said, making you giggle. You still weren't quite back yet, still bathing in your own afterglow, and he simply waited for you to calm down- slowly becoming aware of your surroundings again.

"Hey, Jungkookie.." You started with that nickname Taehyung always teased him with, yet you would get away with it anytime on his watch. He simply moved his head to look at you, even if you weren't at him. "Did you.. like, mean it? Are we.. a couple now, or?" You started a bit too softly, yet you didn't have to be scared of his answer to that.

He took a deep breath, before yawning a bit. "If you want us to be. I know I want to." He started, brushing some hair away from your eyes. You looked at him, big eyes so innocent like he didn't just fuck you into his mattress literally minutes ago.

"I want to!" You immediately said, making him chuckle and place a kiss on your nose, receiving a giggle at that, before you tensed up. He raised his eyebrows at that, before you looked at him surprised. "My legs are all- tingly.. Jungkook did you break me- HEY don't laugh!" You said, but he couldn't help himself.

He threw his head back, laughing his admittedly cute open laugh, before wrapping his arms around your body. "God I love you." He simply said, making you smile.

"Hey Jungkookie?" You said after a bit.

"Yeah Princess?" He answered.

"That McDonald's date still stands, right?" You said with a small voice, making him snort.

"Anything you want princess. Anything you want."

Taglist:

@mrcleanheichou @sugasbratz @sassysaxsolo @bananagukkie @wh3resangel @urmomgee

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #dom!Jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #reader insert

5K notes · View notes

britishassistant · 3 years

Text

The Villainous Paranoiac Has Visitors

You’re a fool.

A blind, tunnel-visioned, desperate fool.

There’s no one you can blame for this mess but yourself.

You were moronic enough to think that a promise would’ve been enough to stop Grim from going after more overblot stones.

And now where are you?

Lying in a bed in the infirmary, bandages and gauze wrapped around you from your collarbone to your chin, because the one creature in this fucked up magic world that you were stupid enough to trust unconditionally tried to rip out your throat over a rock.

Your neck aches. You’re so tired it feels like you can barely even move. Your head is a weird weight of white noise, making it hard to think about anything other than your current predicament and how you should’ve seen it coming a mile away. How you should’ve stopped it.

Maybe—maybe it was because you’d made him hold out too long. Maybe that’s it. Maybe you were wrong to make him swear not to eat any more, and him lashing out at you over Vil-senpai’s stone was just-just temptation that had been pushed too far. Why weren’t you looking after him more closely anyway? You’re his supervisor, you’re supposed to make sure Grim doesn’t get into trouble, you should’ve noticed he was gone sooner. Then maybe this whole mess wouldn’t have happened. And it’s not like Grim wasn’t working hard to uphold your deal, you were the one who wasn’t meeting his efforts halfway. After all, he hadn’t eaten anything after Jamil-senpai’s overblot, had he?

...

Had he?

No stone ever turned up after Jamil-senpai’s overblot.

And you were so out of it that night, riding out the aftereffects of the overblot’s venom and the anti-venom warring in your system.

Grim could’ve easily left during the night and eaten it, and so long as you never asked, never pressed him about it, you’d have been none the wiser.

And you didn’t ask. You just trusted him.

You’re a fool. A pathetic, misguided, twisted, worthless fool.

Your family was right about you.

You would grind the heels of your hands into your eyes, but even lifting your arms towards your face feels like more effort than you can spare right now. Luckily it takes no effort to stare up at the ceiling and just hate yourself for your stupidity.

You’d have thought you would have learned that trusting people is an awful idea already. Hopefully this will finally get the message through your thick skull—

“Yuu?”

You tilt your head and blink up at Deuce. He grins, blindingly bright. “Guys, he’s awake!”

You weakly smile back, ruthlessly squashing the urge to correct him.

Epel pushes the divider back as he rounds it, pretty face worried. “Prefect, how are you feeling? Nurse Kamac said you lost a lot of blood.”

“M okay.” You mumble back, your tongue feeling thick and sluggish in your mouth.

“What the hell happened to you, Prefect?” Deuce moves to pull up a chair and sit down next to you, shooting you doubtful looks. “Was it an attack by another overblot or something? Some kind of monster? Did you get jumped by some punks from RSA?”

You wonder what you should tell them. You know that all you have to do is tell him the truth, say the word, and they’ll all be off after Grim like a group of hunting dogs, just like when you used to ask Ace and Deuce to help you catch him back at the start of the school year.

But Grim might get hurt. Or he might hurt them.

Can you put them through that?

Ace collides with the foot of the bed, interrupting your internal debate, eyes wide and panting. “Guys, bad news. Crewel’s outside asking for us, he looks pissed.”

Deuce and Epel stiffen in tandem, darting nervous glances towards the door like the potions and alchemy teacher will burst in at any moment. “What’d you do?!” Deuce hisses.

“How’d you know it wasn’t you, ass?!” Ace protests. “Seriously, we can’t keep him waiting! I think he’s even madder than the time Grim turned his coat pink and green.”

All four of you shudder collectively.

Epel grabs Deuce’s arm, squaring his shoulders. “We just gotta—need to see what Professor Crewel wants right? It may not even be us he’s piss—irritated at. Just gotta man up and face him.”

Deuce nods, even though he looks like he really, really doesn’t want to. He and Ace follow Epel away from your bed and towards the infirmary exit. You loll your head back onto your pillows and resume your staring at the ceiling.

“But Ace, no one’s...?”

“What the—?!”

There’s a bang as the infirmary doors slam shut.

You look over in time to see Ace slide a mop through the door handles, and drag a chair over to prop under them. He then points his magic pen at it all and a padlocked chain loops itself around the whole affair and clicks shut. You can hear Deuce and Epel hammering on the other side, demanding he open up.

“Ace?” You struggle to sit up, your throat aching. “What—”

“Shh, sh, easy, we gotta be quick.” He darts over you, helping you to sit up and pulling up the pillows behind you to lean back against. “Do you need me to get your shirt for you?”

“W-what?” Your brain is still struggling to catch up.

Ace gestures impatiently to your chest.

You look down.

Oh.

You look back up at Ace, cold sweat drenching you.

Please no. Not him too.

Ace reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls something out—!

He holds up your binder. “Figured Kamac might not have let you keep it. It hurts your ribs, right?”

Wait. What?

“H-how...?” You stutter, fumbling with the buttons at your collar.

He shoots you a look. “I basically carried you back here from Dwarf Mines. It was easy to tell something was up when Kamac wouldn’t let me or Deuce stay in the room while you were getting patched up. Plus this was kinda dangling out your back pocket when you came out”

Well. That’s. That’s...

“Look are we doing this or not?!” Ace hisses, shooting a nervous glance back at the door where Deuce and Epel’s voices are being joined by others and growing louder. You think you hear Kalim-senpai’s twittering, Vil-senpai barking orders, and Jamil-senpai’s drawl.

You begin working on your buttons with newfound determination.

Ace helps you get your head through the top hole of the binder without pulling on the bandages around your neck too much.

You struggle your arms through the arm holes, and then shrug the hospital pajama shirt back on. He’s already done over half the buttons by the time you’ve recovered from your discombobulation.

“Feel okay? Not hurting your breathing or anything?” You nod, still disoriented. “Okay, let’s just get you back under the covers, and then I’ll let in the circus.”

There’s another metallic clang from the door and a cry of pain that sounds worryingly like Ashengrotto-senpai.

“W-why?” You rasp, an odd swooping feeling catapulting in your stomach, like you’ve just jumped off the bleachers again. “Why would you...?”

Ace heaves a sigh and gives you a look normally reserved for Deuce and Grim. “Because you’re my friend, you little dumbass. Getting something like this for you isn’t a big deal or anything.”

You gape at him so hard it feels like your eyes are burning.

Something inside you feels impossibly, uncontrollably warm.

Turns out getting a lump in your throat really hurts when you’re recovering from having it slashed open.

“Aw, jeez, what’s with the waterworks?!” Ace leans over you, ungloved hand swiping at the tears on your cheeks. “C’mon Yuu, if they get back in here and see you crying, you know Deuce’ll kill me.”

“Good. ‘S a-all your fault. I won’t f-forgive you until you give me a hug, you big jerk.” You sniffle, opening your arms and holding them out.

He huffs a laugh, before following your orders. “You’re a tyrant, ya know that? You’re as bad as Vil-senpai and Dorm Head Riddle.”

“I’m worse than they could ever be.” You mumble, hiding your burning eyes in his shoulder. “Don’t you forget it.”

“Oi, you better not be wiping your nose on my jacket!” He tries to shrug you off gently. He still hasn’t stopped hugging you though. “Get your snot and tears offa me!”

You cling onto him tighter, unable to stop giggling even as a few hysterical tears slip down your cheeks. “Suffer.”

“Tyrant.” He fakes an exasperated groan, but you can feel him chuckling along with you.

There’s not many things you can think of that would ruin this moment.

“King’s Roar.”

...Being bathed in sand as the doors to the infirmary disintegrate certainly wasn’t one you had in mind, though it does the trick well enough.

Lucky you had Ace hugging you to act as a human shield for the worst of it.

He sputters once the deluge has subsided, shaking his head and rudely dumping the excess sand into your lap. “Ugh, senpai, what the hell?! Would it have killed you to wait one minute?!”

“You take too long.” Leona-senpai shrugs, pocketing his magic pen again and sauntering in to stretch out on the empty bunk next to you. “These guys wouldn’t stop whining until I did something.”

Deuce rushes over to your bedside with Epel and Kalim close behind him, kneeling down next to you. “Prefect, are you okay?! What’d he do to you?!”

“His eyes are all red an’ swollen!” Epel points out before you can say anything. “Ace, you bas—”

“Epel.” Vil-senpai stalks in, looking much better since you last saw him at VDC. Healthier, somehow. “But yes, Potato #1, what exactly were you playing at, locking everyone out like that?”

Ace stammers under Vil-senpai’s cold glare, so you take pity on him, clearing your throat weakly. “Ace just didn’t want any witnesses to him fussing over me. He’s allergic to showing kindness, after all.”

For some reason, being able to say that and have Ace elbow you playfully makes you feel...buoyant, somehow.

Everyone stares at you. The weight of their disbelief is heavy.

Kalim places his hands over yours. “Yuu, you don’t have to be afraid to tell us the truth! You’re among friends here!”

“Oi!” Ace protests.

“Who’re you calling ‘friend’?” Leona-senpai interjects, because he’s still a huge bag of dicks.

Ashengrotto-senpai has his magic pen in its cane form and is leaning on it heavily, limping. “I wouldn’t worry Kalim-san. I’m sure whatever the Prefect experienced can’t be worse than having a cauldron drop on you.”

Deuce inches closer to hide behind you and Epel sheepishly.

“Technically Azul, it was rebounded onto you off the doors of the infirmary.” Jade-senpai interjects cheerfully, switching a bouquet from one hand to the other. “Though I’m sure Spade-san would be glad to reimburse us for damages through labor if necessary~”

Deuce lets out a squeak.

“Eeeeh~~ Crab-chan, were you doing something naaauughty with Shrimy all alone in here~?” Floyd-senpai drapes himself over Ace’s shoulders, arms looping around him. “No faaaaaiiir, I wanna play too~~”

Ace stiffens, face growing to match his hair as Floyd-senpai’s arms begin to tighten. “J-Jamil-senpai—!”

Jamil-senpai cruelly ignores him. “Kalim, make sure you’ve still got your magic pen when we leave. The Prefect might try to add to his collection.”

You shoot him a look. “When are you going to let that go?”

He sits on the end of your bed and smiles sweetly at you. “When you stop making a nuisance of yourself by sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Prefect.”

You try to dissect that statement, then give up and settle for attempting to kick him off the bed. You only end up depositing more sand into your lap under the covers.

He laughs at you, because for all his talk about reputation, Jamil-senpai is also a huge bag of dicks.

The dust and sand irritates your nose and throat, making you cough hard. It’s not as bad as it was after Vil-senpai’s overblot, but you feel the warning tugs on your weakened lungs and torn throat. You gratefully accept the glass of water Epel hands you, gulping it down.

The sand around you gently shifts and seeps out from under and on top of your covers as you swallow, pooling into a large pile at your bedside.

Leona-senpai’s tail flickers as he tucks his magic pen back away and pretends to be sleeping again.

Deuce begins to fret over you, taking the empty cup from your hands and ineffectually trying to fluff your pillows. You let him hover as Ace rolls his eyes and playfully ribs at him for his mother-henning.

Jade-senpai places the bouquet in a small vase on the table next to you with Vil-senpai and Epel fussing over the arrangement every time Floyd-senpai delights in deliberately poking the flowers out of alignment.

Kalim-senpai promises to bring you a carpet next time, maybe even an elephant if you want, much to Jamil-senpai’s dismay. Ashengrotto-senpai begins trying to negotiate for even more presents.

Leona-senpai half-heartedly growls at everyone to shut up and let him sleep.

You’re a fool if you think trusting these people will turn out any better than trusting Grim did.

But somehow, you feel like you’d rather be a fool and enjoy the warmth blooming in your chest right now rather than anything else.

188 notes · View notes

imaginethathaikyuu · 3 years

Text

even apart

oikawa tooru x reader

tags: so much fluff its gross, established relationship, slight angst to comfort, a lot of i love yous, lots of tears, a little surprise at the end :D, slightly inspired by lover by miss taylor swift fem reader

hope u like !

word count: 1578

You’d been preparing yourself for this night for the better half of the year.

It’s never something you talked about with your boyfriend, though. Any time he brought it up, you didn’t dare converse about the difficult topic for too long. It was hard. It was scary. It would be a big change. And you didn’t want to think about it until you absolutely had to, but all that pushing away had finally caught up to you.

And right now, sitting on your balcony alone, it was all you could think about. You had left all of these feelings for right now, and you were absolutely regretting it.

Tomorrow, your boyfriend of four years would be moving to another country. Oikawa would be living in the place of his dreams, Argentina, and he’d be playing volleyball for a team he had grown to love, and he’d be leaving you behind.

For the first time in four years, you’d be without him.

His familiar, soft voice interrupted your thoughts. “I can hear your thoughts from all the way inside.”

You opened your eyes to see him walking through the sliding glass door, on his way to sit next to you on the bench.

“Sorry, I was, uh… telling Iwa bye,” he mumbled.

When he sat down, you could see his eyes were red, despite how dark it was outside. The light from inside lit his face well enough to see.

“How did that go?”

He shook his head. “It went.”

You knew he didn’t want to talk about having to leave Iwaizumi - the same way you didn’t want to talk about him leaving you - so you didn’t press on. You had to remember this was hard for him and everyone else, too - not just for you.

“Can’t I just go with you?” you asked. “I just want to be where you are.”

You heard him release a deep breath as he said, “I wanna be where you are, too.”

And you couldn’t muster a response, so you didn’t even try. Instead, you sat up and grabbed his hand, which was much larger and worn than yours. You got a good look at it, because you knew this would be your last chance for a while.

He squeezed your hand tight. “I won’t be that gone long.”

“It’ll feel like forever,” you said, knowing you were being over dramatic.

Tooru gave you a sad smile. “It’ll go by quick… and I’ll be thinking about you the whole time I’m gone. Will still be playing for you even if you won’t be at every game.”

You nodded and wiped your tears. Tooru giggled, “you’re a mess, babe.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re my mess,” he replied. “Long distance will be a piece of cake.”

You rolled your eyes but played along, “yeah, for sure.”

“I’ll be home for Christmas, and for your birthday, and every other holiday. And you’ll come to so many of my games - you get to brag about dating a pro athlete, now, isn’t that worth the time apart?”

You laughed, and thought about it. What he said was a joke, but it was true - getting to brag that your Oikawa Tooru was finally the athlete he’d always wanted to be made all of this worthwhile.

“That does make it worth it,” you replied, and he draped an arm over your shoulder to pull you against him. “As long as you don’t find anyone else. I’m sure you’ll have a fan club after the first week.”

You were kidding, and Tooru laughed, low and breathy, but there was an edge to the joke that cut through the chill in the air. It was the lump in your throat and the insecurity in your tone and the shaking of your hands giving away the fear you’d been holding onto, and Tooru caught it.

“There could never be anyone else.”

He wasn’t sure if you knew that he was scared, too. He was telling you the truth he’d known for years, and there was nothing scarier than that fact.

You were his only one.

There would never be anyone else, even if you found a better match than him - he would never love anyone, or anything, the way he loves you.

And he knows you love him, which quells the fear. You’re the most stable part of his life, really, and there’s nothing he can’t do if he’s got you on his side. He’s always known that. And he tries his best to give you the same support; to hold you up when you need him to and watch you shine in the blinding way you do. He’s going to do that even when he’s living in another country, even when it gets hard, even when neither of you are shining at all.

“You don’t even know how much I love you,” he said, and it was hard to be so honest, to say something so sickeningly sweet, but the smile his words put on your face made it worth it.

There was a choice Oikawa had to make, right there on that balcony at half past midnight, a choice he’d been facing since he caught you scrolling through pictures of dresses and rings on Pinterest - was this it? Was this the moment he’d been looking for?

It wasn’t, he thought, until you looked up at him and caught him in a shaky kiss and mumbled an, “I love you,” against trembling lips. It wasn’t, because he had a flight to catch in just a few hours, and he had suitcases lining the foyer, and he’d be gone before you could even celebrate. It wasn’t the right time, it wasn’t the right place, it wasn’t perfect enough for you and everything he’d dreamed of giving you - it wasn’t, but he was pulling that ring out of the safety of his pocket, anyway, and every perfect line was slipping his mind, and he wasn’t even convinced you’d say yes, but he was moving on impulse.

“You’re the only one,” he said, and his entire body was shaking, “I want you to be the only one forever.”

“I will be,” you replied. And then you looked down, and you saw the ring he held between two fingers, shaking like a leaf, in danger of dropping the damn thing, and he actually laughed as you sat there frozen.

“I wanna be yours forever,” he said. “Will - will you marry me? Do you think you can stand to have me around for that long?”

“Tooru,” and you were shocked, crying more than you were minutes before, and you stood up and looked down at him with wide eyes.

He’d made his choice, bit the bullet and let himself ask even though he should’ve waited. Popping the question in the middle of a sad night at your apartment was never his ideal - he always thought it’d be funny to make a show of it somewhere public - but there was something about doing this right before he left that he liked. Leaving you with this memory, giving you this dramatic evidence that he only wanted you, was the one thing he wanted to do before your lives changed.

And now, he was waiting for you to make your choice and give him your answer. Maybe he should have been more afraid, more nervous, but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you would say -

“Yes, Tooru, oh my god, I can’t believe this, oh my god, yes!”

You fell into his lap, arms around his neck with your knees on either side of his legs - and Tooru was rushed with relief, even though the biggest part of himself knew that your answer would be yes.

“Iwa told me you’d do this,” you mumbled, laughing.

“What?! I didn’t even tell him!”

“I think he just knew,” and you pulled back from the tight hug to look at him, wiping your cheeks only to make room for more tears.

“I didn’t even know I was going to do this,” he said. “I just - I happened to have the ring with me - I don’t know why -”

“I love you - you could have done it sooner, you know - I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he said, and he took your hand and slid the ring onto your finger, and he was in love with the sight of your pretty hand wearing such a lovely ring. “I want to get an engagement ring, too. It might be nice to have one since we’ll be apart for awhile. You should pick it out.”

“That would be cute,” and your voice was thick with tears and your eyes were swimming in their sockets as you inspected the gift he’d given you.

He wanted to tell you not to cry, but his own eyes were starting to well up, and there was no point in either of you hiding those emotions from each other. He didn’t need to be too embarrassed to cry in front of you, and he didn’t need to coddle you until your tears stopped.

It was okay to cry, and it was okay to be happy and sad, and it was okay to show it.

Because this was hard. And it probably wouldn’t get any easier. But it was worth it, you both knew that, and your love for each other wasn’t changing - that moment proved it. The ring he’d given you was a symbol for it.

“We’ll still be together forever,” he told you, holding your face and pulling you in close, “even when we’re apart.”

#yo u ever just wanna be loved or smthn #thatd be crazy. anyway #am i nervous posting this yes #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #fluff

159 notes · View notes

arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Moving

A/N: Based on a request i recieved from @tomsbabymomma

Request: Can u do a Tom Holland x pregnant reader Where there talking about things they should do before having a baby and they get in a pretty big argument about if they should stay in London or go to America because that’s were reader is from 😊ending in fluff

Warnings: None.

W/C: 1.1K

Being pregnant had left you somewhat exhausted. You woke up at ridiculous times in the morning to throw up, you constantly needed to pee and your breasts were sensitive, so all in all your were pretty tired most of the time. Not to mention your hormones were all over the place and you found yourself crying over things you never used to and getting annoyed with people over the most miniscule things.

Tom had been great, he’d been there through all of it and he never complained once when he had to go to the shop at strange times during the day because you were craving something and he didn’t get angry with you for snapping at him and he comforted you whenever you found yourself crying. All of this had of course left him feeling somewhat tired but he never complained.

“So what do we have left to do?” Tom asked as he made his way onto the couch, your herbal tea in hand.

“How’d you mean?” You asked confused.

“Like you know, surely there’s a load of stuff we’ll need to get into place before the baby gets here.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“We’ve pretty much got everything done, it’s just little bits of stuff to sort. I mean we still need to sort out hospitals and stuff back home.” You said.

“What do you mean? You are registered with a hospital?” Tom asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah but that’s here, I mean back home. You know in America?” You said as you sipped your tea.

“What? I thought- hang on, you want to move to America?” Tom stuttered out as he continued to look at you.

“Well yeah. I don’t wanna stay in London.” You said carefully.

“When were you going to tell me that?” Tom said, he looked annoyed.

“I thought you knew that I’d always planned to go back.”

“No, I didn’t know that. I thought when you got this house in London with me that that’s where you wanted to stay.” You could tell he was getting angry now and in any other circumstance you would’ve tried to avoid an argument but you were pregnant and hormonal so you felt your own anger rising.

“Well, I wanna go back and live in the states and I think we need to do that sooner rather than later.” You snapped.

“Right, so what you want me to do is get us moved over to America as soon as possible?” He snapped back.

“That’s what I just said.” You fired back.

“Right, brilliant. Thank you for making it clear that you wanted to go back to the states, I greatly appreciate the heads up.” Sarcasm was dripping from his tone and it made you even more annoyed.

“Listen I think it will be better if we go back to America, better for the baby, better for me. Hell it’ll be better for your work won’t it?” You shouted as you stood up.

“I don’t know what you’re implying by that and I don’t want to but have you not thought about how selfish this is?”

“Excuse me?”

“Y/N, you’re asking me to move with such short notice and you haven’t asked if it’s something I want, you’ve just assumed.” He was raising his voice now as he stood and crossed his arms over his chest as you stood opposite him.

“I moved over here for you Tom. The least you could do is move for me.” You snapped.

“You know what, I need to take a walk. You are being so selfish right now.” He shouted as he made his way to the front door, grabbing his keys.

“Fine. Go. See if I care.” You shouted as he slammed the front door.

You were so angry with him at the minute. You’d made it clear that you didn’t wanna live in London for the rest of your life, hadn’t you? Now that you think about it, you’re not sure you had, maybe you should have mentioned this earlier, made sure he understood. The realisation that perhaps you’d been a little unfair was setting in and you felt guilty instantly. It’s not that there was anything wrong with London it just seemed to lack the same amount of opportunities that the states had.

You waited for him to come back, deciding that maybe he just needed a breather and was better left alone. He was gone for a good two hours before he did come back and in that time you’d cried and calmed yourself down but of course that left the red and puffy face in its wake. You heard the front door shut, followed by the sound of Tom’s feet making their way towards the living room. Once he made it into the living room he sat next to you on the couch.

“Look, I’m sorry. I should’ve known you wanted to go back, you mentioned it early on but then you hadn’t mentioned it since so I assumed you’d changed your mind.” He said as he sighed and you looked at him, he looked like he’d been crying, same as you.

“No, I should’ve made it clear. I realised that I just dropped that on you and expected you to be okay with it and I’m sorry. I do want to go back though.” You said and he nodded slightly.

“Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want then that’s what we’ll do.” He said as he ran his hands over his face before turning to face you.

“It shouldn’t be just about what I want though. I don’t want us to move out there and you be unhappy and resent me for it.” You reasoned as you felt tears brim your eyes.

“Darling, wherever you are is where I need and want to be. You’re right it’ll be good for my work and I won’t resent you, I don’t have an issue with moving it was just the suddenness of it, you know? I felt like you’d made plans without me.”

“I’m sorry.” You said as the tears fell again and he pulled you into a hug.

“It’s okay, look I’m happy to move to the states but we need to think about a lot of things. We shouldn’t rush it, moving is stressful when you’re doing it in the same country so we need to make it as stress free as possible. Stress isn’t good for the baby, okay? I promise we will look at moving but we have to take our time and do it right.” He said as he rubbed your back.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry for being selfish. Just as long as you want to move with me?” You said into his chest as the tears started to subside.

“It’s fine, sorry for shouting. Look, I do wanna move, I wanna be wherever you’re the happiest, okay. I love you.” He said and you pulled back to smile at him as he wiped his thumb over your cheeks, clearing the remains of the tears.

“I love you too Tom.”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland blurb #tom holland x y/n

170 notes · View notes

tammythompson-singslikea-muppet · 3 years

Text

Reconciliation (Stan Uris x reader x Richie Tozier, Reddie)

I'm finally back! It's probably been a year since I posted Betrayal and shit has really hit the fan since then, but here I am a year later with part 2!

Here is a link to part 1

Warning: swearing

Aged up: 18/19

You tried to catch up with Stan as he power-walked out of the house. He stopped short when he realized his car wasn't there. "Stan" You catch his attention and he turns around. His chest rising and falling at a quick pace, "You heard everything in there?" Stan's voice was quiet, much quieter than just a minute ago. You nod and he sighs. "I'm sor-" You cut him off "Don't be" You take a step forward and bring your hand up to push some curls out of his face. He leans into your hand, not stopping himself for once. No yearning, no shouting in his head over his actions. Just the feel of your soft palm against his cheek. Stan takes a deep breath, feeling himself calm down in the wake of your touch. "Can we go somewhere?" Stan's voice barely above a whisper. "Of course."

Richie leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor. He brushed his hands through his hair 'God I fucked up' "Man you really fucked up." Richie looked up. "Thanks, Bill your a real help." Bill put his hands up in defense. "I gotta say I really didn't see that one coming," Eddie spoke up. Bill and Mike nodded in agreement. "I mean I knew *something* was going on but holy shit I didn't think they were in love with each other," Beverly added. "We know Stanley's in love with her but is she in love with Stan? I mean she was just in a serious relationship like a week ago" "Yeah I wonder what happened to that relationship?" Ben's eyes sharp at Eddie, voice stiff and slightly viscous, "Alright! Alright!! None of that!" Mike's authoritative voice made it known he was seriously done with all the fighting. "She loves him" The group turned their heads at Richie's small voice, Ha stared down at the floor and spoke softly. "She may not be in love with him right now, but I could see it. She's falling for Stan."

Eddie looked over at Richie. A mix of emotions reached throughout the boy. He hated seeing Richie like this, but he also hated that it was about you. Mostly he hated that it was about you. He couldn't control it, no matter how much he wished that he could. What is it exactly that Richie is so mad at? Is he upset that he potentially ruined his relationship with Stan? Is he upset that Stan is in love with (Y/N) or that Stan claimed he neither loved nor cared about (Y/N)? Is Richie still in love with (Y/N)? If so is he mad that (Y/N) could be in love with Stan or that she is moving on so quickly? Eddie couldn't help but feel like he was still second to you. It's not like Richie chose to tell you. He kept telling Eddie that he would for at least 2 weeks, but then she found out in her own way. Eddie feared that maybe he was never gonna tell you. Or now that you found out does Richie regret it? 'Alright, Alright Eddie calm the fuck down! Just go talk to Richie.' "Eds?" "Yeah Rich." "I'm gonna go." Richie's tone sounded soft, defeated. It broke Eddie's heart to see him like this. "Yeah sure I'll go grab my keys-" Richie cut him off politely. "I'm just gonna walk. I think I wanna be alone right now. I'll call you later." Richie placed a hand on the back of Eddie's head pulling him close and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "OK. Be safe please."

"Where are we going?" You ask Stan who is driving and keeping silent. "You'll see. Um, go into the glove compartment a find the clear tape." You scrunch your eyebrows together. "You been stashing things in my glove compartment, Uris?" You found a clear tape and put it into the radio. Temptation by New Order flooded in through the speakers. A smile grew on your face as you turned the volume nob up. Stan looked over at you for a second just to see your growing smile. "I made you a tape and left it in here for the next time you complain that there's nothing good on the radio." A fit of giggles came from your mouth. "Stanley Uris made me a fucking mix-tape." You continued to laugh. It brought a smile, growing wider by the second, to see you so happy and blissful listening to your favorite music, a song he loved as well.

And I've never seen anyone quite like you before. No, I've never met anyone quite like you before.

Richie's emotions were confusing him now more than ever. He loved (Y/N). He truly did, but he just wasn't in love with her. Guilt consumes him every night before sleep and every time he sees you. He never wanted to hurt you. But when it comes to Eddie he's impulsive even a little reckless. Richie knew that he fucked up massively. Not only with you but with Stan and he even feels so with Eddie. He felt that if he just would have been honest with you before jumping into things with Eds maybe Eddie wouldn't have lost his best friend. He still couldn't wrap his head around how much of an idiot and a dick he was about Stanley. What in the fucking hell would lead him to believe that Stanley Uris of all people would fuck around with someone's feelings like that? He had already caused (Y/N) enough pain maybe he was trying to be a hero or something. Do something right for once, but of course, it was just another gigantic fuck up! Executed wonderfully by your very own Richie Tozier. Richie had noticed that he walked straight to the quarry. He picked up a stone and skipped it across the water.

Stan pulled the car over along where the road stopped and the tree's started. "Come on." Stan walked over to your side of the car and opened the door for you and held out his hand. You took his hand and walked beside him into the woods. "You trying to get me to some secret secondary location?" "What, you don't recognize where we're going?" You looked around a bit and shook your head. "Well, then I guess it will be a surprise." "I guess this is the day I get murder in the woods. Goodbye world you were never all that good to me but at least my murder is hot as hell." You almost couldn't see Stan's blush from how much he was laughing. You're hands brush as you walked close together. Stan felt a little nervous to take it, it's not like he hasn't held your hand before but right now he feels it holds so much more. 'Good' he thought to himself. 'It does mean more. Let it mean more.' He took your hand in his and warmth spread throughout the both of you. Just the two of you holding hands walking through the trees with Stan pointing out some birds to you, felt so blissful. At this moment you realized you had never felt this way with Richie. The two of you had a lot in common and play off each other well jokes and conversation-wise. But maybe that wasn't all a relationship needed. You had felt that's why Richie and you were so perfect together. Maybe this was finally the start to forgiving Richie and regaining some normalcy, realizing that maybe we weren't perfect or meant to be after all. If this is how Richie felt with Eddie you felt that you could somewhat understand why he was so in a rush to have it. It was scary how new this thing with Stan was yet how important it felt to you. You would go to the ends of the earth to protect what you had with Stan, no one in the world made you feel as safe and comforted as Stanley Uris. What Richie did, going behind your back, was in no way how he should've handled the situation. You let him into some of the most vulnerable spaces in your mind and life, entrusting him with your heart and your deepest thoughts, that you were his only person. That wasn't something easy to forgive, not something to easily recover from, especially having that trust broken with someone else with who you were very close. You may be happy and blissful at this moment, but you definitely knew the consequences of Richie's actions would come back to rear its ugly head sooner or later. But you believed that understanding was one of the first steps toward forgiveness. The more you walked the louder the sound of running water became. Soon you could even see the running water. You realized Stan had brought you to the barrens.'But why the barrens?' you thought to yourself. You reached the edge of the water and looked over to Stan. "C'mon" he grabbed your hand and stepped out onto a rock in the water. You did your best to follow, it finally dawns on you that you were headed toward the clubhouse.

When you got to the small clearing Stan went ahead and lifted the hatch to the small underground area where the losers used to hang out. "I've only been here a couple of times." You said as you climbed down the ladder. "Yeah, I guess we started hanging out other places more." Stan walked over to the hammock getting in. He smiled and reached his arms out like a little kid asking for a hug. You raised an eyebrow at him. "I know. I always feel like I'm gonna fall out of this thing, but it's safe I promise." "Okay," You say drawing out the word in a skeptical tone. You yelped as it wobbled and Stan gripped his arms around your waist as the hammock swung a little. "See, safe." You let out an amused huff and relaxed into Stan. Your back was pressed against his chest, both of your heads finding slightly uncomfortable spots in the crooks of the other's neck. "I remember one of the first times Eddie ever brought you to hang around with us was down here." Stan played with your hands in your lap. "I remember looking over and seeing you smiling, talking to Beverly. It was really hot out, your cheeks were pink. Richie gave you his shower cap and you, him, and Bill talked about comic books." You closed your eyes just listening to Stan talk softly into your hair. "Beverly came over to me when she noticed. She was joking around told me to stop staring, that it was rude. I hadn't even noticed that I was staring. I got nervous cuz, -hoping you didn't notice. You were so beautiful I couldn't help but stare." You blushed and let out a chuckle, your stomach filling up with butterflies. "I don't expect you to say back any time soon, and I in no means want to rush you, but I-" Stan paused, thinking about the impact of his words. He started to think maybe he should give you a little time, but then you leaned your head up to look at him. And when he looked down into your eyes there was no way stopping the words from falling out of his mouth. "I love you." The look in Stan's eyes was intoxicating, you could have stared in his eyes for the rest of both your lives, but instead, you brought your hand up to his jaw and tilted your head bringing yours and Stan's lips together. Equally as intoxicating as the look in his eyes. The two of you felt as if you were floating on clouds. Like you two were the only two people in the world. You pulled away and smiled, Stan pressed his forehead against yours. "I know" You and Stan laughed.

"Ok Rich. You just need to apologize. I'm sure they'll forgive you. They're your friends, basically your family." Richie walked back into town talking to himself. "And you hurt them and accused them of shitty things and now all your friends will hate you forever cuz you were a total dick and even their grandchildren will hate the name, Richie Tozier." Richie stopped for a second and groaned, rubbing his hands up and down his face under his glasses. He took a deep breath and continued walking.

Mike opened the door to Richie. "Hey man, come in." "Is Eds still here." "Yeah, he's in the living room. Rich," Mike put a hand on his shoulder. "He's worried about you. We all kinda are. There's been a lot going on with you four I just want to remind you that if you need someone to talk to we're all here for you buddy." "Thanks, man." Richie continues into the living room and sees Ben and Eddie talking. He breathes a sigh of relief, knowing how much it hurt Eddie that Ben wouldn't talk to him. They hugged and Ben got up off the couch and saw Richie. "I'm really sorry Richie. It was really rude to treat you like that-" Richie cut him off. "It's ok man really, I get it. She's your friend, I was a dick." "Yeah but you and Eddie are my friends too." "Well then what do you say Haystack," Richie extended out a hand. "Back to buds." Ben agreed and shook Richie's hand. Richie took a seat next to Eddie on the couch. "Hey, I'm glad your back I wanted to-" Richie leaned in and kissed Eddie. "As much as I love you and your adorable rambling I wanted to apologize." Eddie was suddenly very nervous. He thought to himself 'Shit this is it. He still loves Kassidy.' "Sure, Sure yeah. Umm a-about what Rich?" Richie took Eddie's hands in his fiddling with them out of nerves. "About everything. About not telling Kassidy. About not even being decent enough to break it off first so neither of you would get hurt. All of this would have been so much easier and nobody would've had to lose any friends. I'm just so sorry Eddie, I love you and I never wanted to hurt you like that." Eddie was so relieved to hear those words come out of Richie's mouth. He put a hand up to Richie's cheek and leaned to kiss him. "I love you too Richie." Richie chuckled in relief "Thank fuck."

You and Stan walked back to the car hand in hand. "So what do you wanna do now? " You leaned your back up against the car door "Oh I don't know maybe some more of this." Stan leaned himself against the car by his forearm and with his other hand lifted your chin, leaning down connecting your lips. You hummed against his lips. "Well, I do love doing that." "Do you want to go back to your place-" Stan pressed a small kiss on your neck "Watch a movie." "Shit!" Stan's head shot up. "I left my house keys at Bens." "We can sneak through your bedroom window." You push yourself off of the car, past Stan, and walked to the other side pulling your door open. "I don't wanna go back there either but with any luck, Richie won't be there." Stan groaned and got into the car.

You wrapped your knuckles on the door and Mike opened it with a smile. "I just forgot my keys." Mike let you in past him to the table where the keys sat. You quickly walked over to the table and grabbed your keys. Turning around back towards the door you catch Richie staring from the couch next to Eddie. For once you didn't feel the wind knocked out of you. But you couldn't say that the feeling of wanting to punch him had dulled any. You carried on toward the door when Richie called out your name. You sighed and banged your head on Mike's front door and contemplated for a second whether or not you should pretend you didn't hear him and keep walking. Apparently, you had stayed there a bit too long. Richie tapped two fingers on your shoulder. "I was just wondering if you would let me talk at you for a second. You don't need to say anything, or react in any way really-" You turned around and put your hands on his shoulders. He froze silent as you drew a deep breath. "I forgive you." It wasn't easy to say, you weren't even sure it was true. A part of you wanted to keep him dangling in wonder and guilt but you knew that you would eventually fully forgive him and the more you saw him moping around the more you would most likely enjoy watching him suffer for what he did. But if he just thought that you had forgiven him then maybe he would go back to his old trashmouth self and you all could move on.

Richie was taken by surprise, to say the least. He felt relief for a fleeting moment until he remembers Stan. "He's out in the car" He heard him speak softly. She somehow always knew what was going on inside his head, that's what made him think that she was so great, that they would be so great together. Against your better judgment, you grimaced and said, "I can give you five minutes. But he has the car keys so I can't promise he won't dive off on you." Richie threw his arms around you and squeezed you, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" "Yeah, sure get off me" He smiled at you, "Sorry." As Richie walked out the door he turned back to you, "He wouldn't drive off without his best girl." Richie started making trumpets sound in the tune of 'A Long Long Time' by Kitty Kallen and closed the door. You rolled your eyes as you and Mike laughed

Richie fell silent as he walked up to your car with Stan in the front seat. He raised his hand and tapped on the window. Stan kept his stare forward and locked the car door. Richie sighed. "Stan please." Richie heard the click of the car doors unlock and walked around to the other side and got in. "I'm so sorry. I was being a complete shit of a person and totally overreacted. I do care about her, I do! That's why I got so angry and it totally fucked up my judgment." Stan wasn't saying anything and it started to make Richie even more nervous. "I was angry and confused and I honestly don't know where all of that came from. That's not what I think of you at all, you gotta know that, Stan. You're one of my best friends and the best dude I know and I'm so sorry I said all of those things. I know I really fucked up." The two of them sat and stared out the windshield, Richie's leg bounced up and down from nerves until Stanley broke the silence. "I'm sorry too. That I turned my back on you. I couldn't understand how you had the most perfect girl right in front of you and seeing you hurt her made me angry too. I mean we all saw you and Eddie happening eventually, but I didn't think you two would go and do that. I love her and I guess I let that get in the way of our friendship." "I mean dude I don't really think I could blame you. I've seen the way she looks at you. It can make someone do stupid and crazy things." "Well then I guess that explains why you are so stupid and crazy," Stan laughed, "Eddie looks at you like that 24\7." Richie turned away laughing and hoped it hid the bright red flush on his cheeks. "I can't believe she actually forgave me." "Yeah me neither, to be honest." Stanley dead-panned. "Buuut," Stan took a calming deep breath, "If she can forgive you, then I guess I should too."

Eddie walked up to (Y\N) hesitantly as she was laughing with Mike. Mike saw Eddie and took that as his cue to leave, or rather to eavesdrop from the kitchen with Beverly, Ben, and Bill.

"Thanks for uh.. for forgiving Richie, he's been a wreck," Eddie said. "N-not that I've been fine! I-I feel completely terrible for what I did. But I mean I-I-I'm not trying to make you feel bad for me or anything. O-or for Richie. I just mean that we're both really sorry. I'm so, so very sorry (Y/N)." Eddie stammered through quickly. Man, do your shoes look mighty interesting at that moment. 'You forgave Richie why is it so hard to forgive Eddie. Maybe because we only gave Richie a premature apology so we could all get back to normal? Should I have to do that with Eddie too? Fuck that neither of them deserves it!' You fought back and forth with yourself in your head before finally looking up at Eddie. You took a deep breath, "I know...I-" Eddie cut you off "You don't have to." "I feel like I should." "You already kinda forgave Richie I know that's a big thing so you can hate me for as long as you need I deserve it." You smiled at Eddie and walked out of the house. Richie saw you walking towards the car and stepped out leaving the door open for you. You got in and leaned over to Stanley cupping the side of his face to bring him closer and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Stan started the car as you buckled. You tucked your legs up onto the seat and curled up to get comfy. Stan rests his hand over on one of your legs as you closed your eye

taglist: @elisaa-shelby @trashxqueen @igotahammer @pillowjj @screechinglawyer @campcampie

184 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 3 years

Text

transferred part twelve - atla smau

masterlist | part eleven | part thirteen

this takes place about 2 weeks after the last chapter

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.

wc: 3.6k

a/n: i’ve been writing bits and pieces of this since the start of this series so. enjoy. that’s all im gonna say lmao

warning(s): cursing, mentions of familial death, mentions of abuse, some angst but also some fluff. this is kind of a heavy chapter because both zuko and y/n talk about their past, but there is fluff at the end.

~~~~~~~~

You pushed your hair out of your face and tried to blink the sleep out of your eyes, catching a glimpse of the time on the corner of your laptop.

3:23 AM.

You should’ve been asleep a long time ago, but all of your professors had decided to schedule tests in the same week so it was one of many, many late nights you had had lately. You thought that they would cool down because midterms were coming up, but BSSU professors kept proving you wrong. Late nights like these were becoming a regular occasion, and right now you just needed a break.

The tea dates with Zuko were the only things keeping you sane. But could you even call them dates?

It was the two of you, together, sitting and talking over tea for hours, and they were happening multiple times a week. In fact, you and him had gotten tea together exactly 9 times in the past two weeks — and that wasn’t even counting all the talking during your shared shifts.

Katara, Suki, and Toph told you that they were dates, you wanted them to be dates, but there was a part of you that was so incredibly scared that you were wrong — that moving past that bridge would ruin the friendship that you cherished so much with Zuko — that you kept things solely platonic. No matter how much you wanted to kiss him every time he gave you that smile.

But thinking about the complicated relationship you had found yourself entangled in with Zuko wasn’t a break, no matter how many times you had pondered over it before falling asleep in the wee hours of the night.

You closed your laptop and grabbed your jacket that had been carelessly tossed on a stool at the kitchen island, making sure to sneak out of the apartment as quietly as you could. You opted to work in the living room, choosing to camp out on the sofa whenever you had to stay up as late as this, just so you wouldn’t wake up Sokka. Your brother had no idea how much you did for him.

The cool breeze hitting your face and the shining stars in the sky were a welcome change of scenery from the lifelessness that was your apartment at night and your computer screen that you were sure was going to cause you eye issues later in life with how bright it was.

You took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling the crisp night air, and started to walk. You were sure you looked like a mess. You were wearing some flannel pajama pants, a BSSU tank top, tennis shoes, and Zuko’s jacket. He had never asked for it back after that night at the party, and when you had showed up to one of your hangouts wearing it, he told you that you could keep it — “it looks better on you anyways” — so you did.

There was something calming about the atmosphere. You knew that a lot of women were anxious about going out at night, especially alone, but that was why you had taken self defense classes. Being friends with Suki was a self defense class in its own, and it was very much appreciated. You allowed yourself to get lost in your thoughts, trying to give yourself the break that you deserved, when the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

“You know, it’s not safe to be out alone at this hour.”

You let out a scream at the unexpected voice and whirled around, your fists already up to defend yourself. When you saw who it was, you laughed, completely shocked, and hit your hands against your legs, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart.

“Holy shit, Zuko, you can’t just sneak up on someone like that!” you wheezed. You had no doubt that he only had good intentions, but for a second you thought someone was going to try and kill you. You had to admit, the scare was worth it to see the mix of horror and embarrassment on Zuko’s face.

“I’m so sorry!” His hands were held up placatingly in front of him and he let out a nervous laugh as well, but it did nothing to cover up the wide eyes he stared at you with. “I am so sorry, I didn’t even think about that. I- I was just up studying too, and I heard you leaving so I thought you could use some company- I swear, I wasn’t trying to scare you or anything!”

You shook your head but couldn’t stop the smile on your lips, gesturing for him to come closer while you caught your breath. “It’s fine. Come on, walk with me.”

He fell into step beside you and the two of you walked in silence for a while, the only disruptions being the occasional car that drove by. It was eerily quiet, but with Zuko, it was nice.

“So-”

Both of you laughed when you each interrupted the other, and when you motioned for Zuko to go first he shook his head. You paused for a moment, the question on the tip of your tongue, before you decided to take the plunge.

“I’ve been wondering since I got here; how did you end up as friends with—” You gestured around with your hands. “—this whole crew? It’s kind of a weird combination of people, so I guess I just wanna know how you became a part of it.”

Zuko sighed and ran a hand through his hair, causing your eyes to widen a little bit as a stammered apology came out. “You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to-” He gave you a tight smile and shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. You should know about my life if— if we’re going to keep living together.” He knew the moment he met you, the moment he agreed to let you live with all of them, that he would have to explain his past to you. Hell, your siblings might have already told you some of it — he could only hope you’d still want to be his friend after he was done.

“”I.. I wasn’t the best person in the past. I was a horrible person actually, and I consider myself extremely lucky that I was given so many chances to change. I hurt people. Bullied people. Got into fights just because I could. I was just- horrible is the only way to describe it. But your siblings, Toph, Aang? They were all people that decided to give me one of those chances, and they’re a huge reason that I am who I am today.” Zuko spoke slowly, and you could tell that this was something he didn’t open up to many people about. You smiled softly at him and nodded, letting him know that he could go on.

“I don’t know how much you know about my father, but he’s the CEO of our family company. He’s been this huge presence in the business world for as long as I can remember, and he’s responsible for all the wealth and fame that our family has today. And when I was younger, I idolized him. I thought he was the greatest man in the world, that he could do no wrong, and I just followed him blindly. He was the most important person in my life, but.. I was nothing to him.”

“He didn’t care about his friends, or- or his family, he only cared about power. My mother left when I was young, we haven’t heard a word from her since, and- and I don’t even know if he cared. My father would do whatever it took to become as powerful as he could, and that meant—” Zuko’s voice was getting louder and he cleared his throat, trying to keep his cool. There was a certain hollowness behind his eyes, and it tore you to pieces. “That meant hurting anyone that went against him. Including his children.”

“I have a sister, Azula. She’s a prodigy in every sense of the word, and my father used it, used her. She was clearly his favorite, and it drove me insane. I mean, I did everything for his approval, but he only cared about Azula. We had a good relationship when we were younger, but my father molded her into the kind of person he wanted her to be, and— and I was jealous of her. He used that against us, purposefully staked the fire of our competition, one that I thought I could somehow win. But we had both already lost the second we started fighting against each other.”

“It took me a long time to realize that.. that he was abusing us. I mean, he gave me this scar all because I spoke out of turn, and— and I still thought that I could earn his favor, that he deserved to earn my favor! He threw me out of the house when I was thirteen, and I went to live with my uncle. It took an even longer time, but with his help, and the support of your siblings and their friends, I was able to break the cycle. I was horrible to them at first, all of them, and I hated my father for what he did, but it was probably the thing that saved me.” “And Azula.. leaving her will always be my biggest regret. My biggest mistake. I should’ve forced her to come with me when I was kicked out, I should’ve done something sooner, because maybe she wouldn’t have turned out the way she did.” He swallowed hard, his voice strained. “I came back for her once I was stable, and I helped her get out. I helped her get a therapist. It’s been a long process, but she’s getting better every day. But not a day goes by where I don’t think about what I could’ve done to help her more.”

You instinctively reached out for Zuko’s hand, and to your surprise, he took it without question. You gave his hand a small squeeze and led him over to a nearby bench — without realizing it, the two of you had entered a public park that was near the complex. When you sat down together, you moved so that one of your legs was crossed in front of you and the other was hanging down so you could face him.

“Zuko.. I am so, so sorry. I don’t think any amount of apologies will be able to get how I feel across, but.. you didn’t deserve to go through that. No one deserves to go through that.” You took both of his hands, thankful for the warmth they provided. “Listen to me. Are you listening to me?”

He gave a pained smile and nodded. “Yes, Y/N. I’m listening to you.”

“You are not who you were in middle school. You are not who you were in high school. Okay? Your father is a horrible man, and you wouldn’t have done any of those things if it wasn’t for him. What you did when you were younger wasn’t okay, but the fact that you have so much remorse for it today proves that you’re a good person. Zuko, you are a good person, one of the best men that I’ve ever met in my life, and I’ve only known you for a few months.”

You were subconsciously rubbing calming circles into the back of his hands — hands that were still holding yours — while you talked, but it was all Zuko could think about. “I know you feel guilty about leaving your sister, but you did what you had to do to get out. You came back for her, and you’ve helped her get better. She’s grateful for it, Zuko, I know that much.”

“Everyone else has forgiven you,” you murmured, staring deep into the fire he held in his eyes. “You deserve to forgive yourself.”

The silence that passed while you gazed into each other’s eyes felt like it lasted an eternity, when really it was only about a minute. Zuko was the first to break it, clearing his throat and looking everywhere but at you as his words tumbled out. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you at once.”

“It’s okay, Zuko, really. I understand; sometimes you just need to talk to somebody. You don’t know how much it means to me that you trusted me with all of that. And.. if we’re still baring our souls to each other, then I guess I have some things that you should know as well.”

You bit the inside of your cheek; were you really about to tell Zuko about what happened? Most people knew that your mother was dead — killed in a drunk driving accident when you were ten — but you had never told anyone, not even your father or your siblings, about the full effect it had on you. But his eyes told you more than he ever could, and in that moment you knew it would be okay. You could trust him with something you had never trusted anyone else with.

“I’m sure you know that my mother died when I was young.” He nodded and you swallowed, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in your throat. “It was.. hard. Really hard, on all of us. It was just so unexpected that we didn’t know what to do. We didn’t really have any money to spare, so my dad had to keep working, and I had to take care of Sokka and Katara. I was only eleven, but I basically had to take over the ‘mom’ role. Our grandmother came down to take care of us so we wouldn’t just be a bunch of kids living on our own, but even with her and Katara’s help, it was still hard. Sokka and Katara had to grow up much faster than they should’ve, even though I tried to shield them as much as I could.”

“It was.. a lot. I won’t lie to you, it was a lot. Maybe too much.” A mirthless laugh hung in the air and you had to blink back the tears threatening to spring. “My mother was.. amazing. She was the only one who truly got me, you know? She was just this— this beautiful spirit in the world, and she brought light wherever she went. And when she died, it left this.. huge, gaping hole in my heart, one that I’m still trying to fill. I- I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fill it. I thought as I got older it would be easier, but i-it’s not. The three of us joke around by calling Katara mom because of how she is, and they sometimes do it to me, and I know that’s all they are, jokes, but some part of it still hurts.”

You were rambling now, spilling your soul to Zuko, going into the most mundane details that you had never told anyone. You had taken away the dam that had been holding back the waters of your emotions for so long, and now Zuko was going to drown in them. But you couldn’t stop.

“It’s the reason why I didn’t drive for so long. I didn’t want to, I was terrified of it because of what happened to my mother, but someone needed to be able to take Sokka and Katara around. And- and as I got older, and I started going to parties and people started drinking, I never did. I couldn’t, I was always the designated driver, because I couldn’t leave that in someone else’s hands. I had to be in control, because if I let someone go, then it was like I was killing my mother all over again, and it’s the reason why I always have to be the one driving—”

You paused to take a deep breath, and as you looked down at your hands, you realized they were shaking. Not just your hands, but your entire body. What the hell were you doing? You let out a tearful laugh, covering your mouth with one hand and shaking your head. “God, I am so sorry, I— I don’t know what got into me.”

Zuko’s eyes never left yours, his own glassy, and he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize. Like you said, it helps to tell someone. A-and— I know how you feel, what it’s like feeling like you have to give up the world for your siblings. But you have to take care of yourself too. You’re not just what you can give to other people. You are your own person.”

He was thankful that you trusted him enough to tell you something like this about yourself, something that your own blood didn’t even know, but it also made him realize that you had always trusted him.

Your point about driving. You liked to be in control so that if something did go wrong, there wouldn’t be any thoughts of what you could’ve done. If something happened, it was because of you and only you. And on your first day of classes, and many trips since, you had let him drive. It was something so small, so insignificant to anyone, but to you it was a sign of trust.

You trusted him.

“You’re shivering.” Your voice snapped Zuko back to reality and he shrugged, the smallest smile playing on his lips.

“I wouldn’t be if someone had given me my jacket back,” he joked. You elbowed him in the chest and stood up, holding out your hand for him to take to help him up as well. Zuko took it and you ignored the butterflies that erupted, setting a steady pace as the two of you walked.

“We should get back to the apartment. It’s late, and you need to sleep,” you chided.

“You have bags the size of baseballs under your eyes. I think you need sleep just as much as I do.”

“I’m special,” you shot back with a grin.

Yeah, you are, Zuko thought.

The walk back to the apartment was shrouded in comfortable silence and intertwined hands, something that neither of you made any move to change.

~~~~~~~~

Soon enough you had gotten back to your rooms — such a small apartment meant that they were right next to each other — and as you turned on your heel to face him, a shy smile played on your lips. “Thank you. For, uh- coming after me. For listening to me.”

“Of course,” he nodded. The two of you stood in silence for a while, and then Zuko reached out his hand. Your breath caught in your throat as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and the close proximity combined with the surprisingly intimate act caused your cheeks to heat up once more. It was like you were caught in a trance.

Your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips for just a moment, and you could’ve sworn that he did the same. The air between the two of you was crackling with unseen electricity, and before you could question yourself you were leaning forward.

You felt him lean in as well as your eyes fluttered shut, and his lips ghosted over yours. Your eyes snapped open and you stared at him, your lips slightly parted in disbelief — he just kissed you. Zuko just kissed you. It was like time had stopped — and then it all came crashing down. His lips came back to yours with an intense fervor, cupping your face in his hands to get as close to you as possible.

It was bliss in the purest sense. You reciprocated immediately, tangling a hand in his dark hair, letting out a soft gasp as your back hit the wall. Despite how many times you had imagined this moment, nothing could compare to the real thing. It was passionate but gentle all the same, and the warmth that spread through your whole body was familiar — it was Zuko.

Your mind was a jumbled mess. It was split a million different ways; one part suddenly very worried about how your hair looked, one hoping that Sokka and Aang couldn’t hear you, another that didn’t care, but most of them were just screaming about how oh my god you were kissing Zuko.

You knew your whole face was flushed when you finally pulled away, and the warmth of his lips lingered as the two of you stared at each other, breathing slightly labored. You tentatively reached out your hand and softly, carefully traced your finger over a part of his scar. He flinched at the contact instinctively, but you felt him relax and even lean into your touch. It meant more than you could ever say, especially knowing what you knew now.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your touch impossibly soft against the cracked skin of his scar. “And you’re stronger than anyone knows. Than you know.”

You kissed him again, shorter and sweeter than the first but just as tender, trying to memorize the feeling of his lips against yours as he returned it. You smiled at him and pushed your door open behind you, equal parts nervous and exhilarated about what just happened. “Goodnight, Zuko,” you whispered, shining eyes never leaving his until you closed the door.

As soon as you were in your room you turned around and leaned against the door, smiling to yourself like an idiot. Your hand ghosted over your cheek, the spot where his hands had been, and you sighed dreamily. You had no idea how you were going to be able to finish studying.

This was definitely more than a small crush.

~~~~~~~~~~

perm taglist: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

taglist: @ourbestfriend-mishacollins @lil-lex1 @xxshad0wxb1rdxx @zuko-is-the-sun @akiris @irohs-teapot @thatarthistorynerd @charlenasaxen @minninugget @marvel-ousnesss @count-thotticus @what-ye-egg @furblrwurblr @thesstuff @mariachiii @ietss @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @xbarrjallenx @tommy-braccoli @dreamsluvrr @floofybread @thelovelylolly @lin-biefong-is-my-life @tiffanyy-21 @sistheselenophile @theincredibledeadlyviper @bakugouswh0r3

send an ask, a dm, or reply if you want to be added to the taglist!

also i am so sorry i suck at writing kiss scenes dont roast me please

#avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko #atla smau #social media au #zuko smau #zuko x reader #smau #atla fic #zuko fic #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #avatar fic #avatar the last airbender fic

235 notes · View notes

kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

tiny love || 8

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. through a few strange twists of fate, you’ve ended up living with the very boy who’d broken your heart. but, perhaps it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be. he is the perfect gentleman, after all.

warnings: f!reader, angst??

wc: 3.9k

m.list | ch. 7 ↞ ch. 8 ↠ ch. 9

The film was alright. There was a certain chaos to it, an unhinged energy that gave it real character. Although, you weren’t quite sure how to feel about the reverse-Freudian implications of Marty’s mother getting a crush on him.

The phone in your lap buzzed, shooting light upwards into the darkened room. Glancing down, you read the name ‘Kohei’ on the screen.

It’d be rude to text him back during the movie, right? Since Iwaizumi was showing you this specific film… Although, it’d been your choice.

You turned your mind away from the question, your eyes flitting back to the screen.

The man with the frazzled white hair – Doc, was it? – was speaking at a rapid-fire pace. If it weren’t for the subtitles, you would’ve been totally lost.

Your phone buzzed again. Still Kohei. You covered the screen with your hand, trying to block out the ambiance-ruining brightness.

Yet another buzz.

“Who is that?” Iwaizumi frowned. “They’ve got a lot to say.”

“Sorry,” you blushed, turning your phone over so it was face down on the arm of the couch. “It’s Kohei.”

“Kohei?” There’s a strange lilt in Iwaizumi’s voice.

You ignored it. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure you met him at the party.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi hummed. “Right.”

He said nothing more, turning his attention back to the screen.

You bit your lip, fingers tightening around your phone.

It felt a little weird, doing something so casual with him. Well, you’d been doing casual things with him for a while, but something about this just felt so domestic. Probably didn’t help that the last time you did this together, he’d kissed you.

Your stomach twisted at the thought.

God, that felt like a lifetime ago now. And maybe it was, in some way; neither of you were those people anymore.

But a part of you still wanted to kiss him, just like back then.

You knew you shouldn’t think about it. He’d pushed you away two years ago for a reason. If you wanted this whole living situation thing to keep going smoothly, you had to respect that.

And yet, it felt unfair.

This was all so easy. So natural.

But it was something you couldn’t have. Something you couldn’t hope for.

You swallowed roughly, slipping your hands under your thighs.

You couldn’t think about it. If you did, you’d just make things worse.

And you were willing to do just about anything to maintain the delicate friendship between the two of you.

✧ ✧ ✧

“So,” Tooru’s voice came through the speaker with its usual levity. “How’s living with Iwa?”

Your stomach dropped. “It’s good!”

It’s not a lie. You just didn’t want to talk about it with Tooru. At least half of the things that made the whole arrangement so fun were things you didn’t exactly want to mention to your older brother.

“You don’t have to rub it in!” He whined.

“Rub what in?” You blinked, a little lost.

“The fact that you get to live with Iwa!”

Oh. Right.

“You’re the one who suggested it,” you teased.

“I know, but it doesn’t make it sting any less!”

“He would’ve killed you within the first day,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Not true!” Tooru barked.

You laughed. You didn’t need to see him to know the exact expression on his face. He’d always been comically expressive, even as a child.

That warm silence that always followed laughter settled over the call.

“Oh, man,” Tooru chuckled. “No, but how are you going?” He asked.

It’d been a while since the two of you had really gotten the chance to talk. Both of you had just been too busy; any catchups you managed to sneak in didn’t allow for much time to really get into the details of your lives.

But today was the day.

“I’ve been doing really well, actually!” It was such a delight to be able to say those words with full sincerity. “I’m still adjusting and everything, but… I think it’s going to be good.”

Small hiccups with Iwaizumi aside, everything was under control. Sure, sometimes you weren’t quite sure what they were saying in class, and yes, you did procrastinate more than perhaps you should’ve – but you were making a life here.

“See, I told you!” He chided.

“Yeah, you keep reminding me of that,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he hummed, adopting his favourite ‘hoity-toity older brother’ tone, “you should’ve listened to me in the first place.”

“I know, I know…” You sighed.

Tooru had told you time and time again that things’d worked out. ‘If I can move to a whole new country on my own, then you can definitely do it with Iwa’s help,’ he’d said. You’d had trouble believing him at first; but for once, he’d been right.

“I’m glad the two of you have each other, you know?” He said.

You flinched. Now those were words you hadn’t expected to hear.

“Huh?”

“You and Iwa,” Tooru explained. “He doesn’t talk about his feelings often, but I think you being there has really helped him relax.”

Your stomach churned.

Was that true? Had your presence really made Iwaizumi feel better? He’d done a lot to help you, but you felt like you hadn’t really done anything for him. You’d just felt like something of a burden.

But if that wasn’t actually true…

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly. God, you hoped your voice wasn’t giving anything away.

“Well, you know,” Tooru said, “you’re someone he knows from home. That sounds pretty comforting to me.”

You were grateful he couldn’t see the pink blooming on your cheeks. “Are you asking me to move to Argentina?” You teased. You didn’t know what else to say.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no—”

“Because I’d rather die.”

The gasp that erupted from Tooru was so loud it peaked the audio. “How dare you? If we were living together, I’d be able to keep an eye on you. And, I could ward of any pesky boys.”

“That’s the problem.”

“Don’t be so inappropriate!” Tooru shrieked. “I don’t want to know the details!”

“I wasn’t going to tell you any of the details!”

“You were about to!”

“No I wasn’t!”

“I’ll have you know, you are far too young to be dating, young lady, and that—”

“I’m only a year younger than you!”

“And?”

“Shut up, Tooru!”

✧ ✧ ✧

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. The kitchen table was supposed to help you get your ass into gear. But instead, your laptop was open, but nothing had been done. The screen was probably a few moments away from turning idle.

A to-do list stared back at you, unrelenting. The sound of rain against the windows was your only companion. Iwaizumi had left for the gym some time ago, and you’d decided that music would be too much of a distraction.

Not that the absence of it was helping you.

Come on, you thought to yourself, just focus.

Easier said than done.

You groaned, leaning back against your chair. Why was it so hard to focus?

A deep breath, and then—

Slap!

Your cheeks stung from the impact of your own palms.

No difference.

The sound of the door opening was a beautiful reprieve. Finally, a worthy excuse to procrastinate—

“Hey.” Iwaizumi said a little breathlessly, holding his hand up in greeting.

You gaped at him.

Words might’ve come to mind if it was any other circumstances.

But when he was just standing there like that, you couldn’t help it.

A white shirt that clung to his torso, cheeks flushed with recent exertion, hair all messy—

It was official. You needed to start writing up your will, saying your goodbyes, getting all your chickens in order. Iwaizumi was certifiably too much, and you couldn’t handle it.

You were doing your best to respond. Truly. But it’s like his chest was a damn magnet, drawing your eyes back to it no matter how hard you tried to look at him respectfully.

Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime and his stupid shirt and his stupid chest—

“You good?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Me?” Your gaze snapped up to meet his. “Oh, yeah. I’m great, actually.”

“If you say so,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Well,” you gaped at him, trying to fight off the myriad of phantasmal shirtless Iwaizumi’s dancing around your head. You were losing. “I’m offended that you’re not more concerned.”

“You’ll recover,” he grinned.

You pouted at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this treatment.”

Iwaizumi chuckled again, ambling across the room with an aggravatingly slow pace. The sooner he was out of sight, the better.

“It’s tough love, sweetheart,” he tutted. “It’s how the world works.”

“Well—” You huffed, trying to think of a retort. But, you were far too distracted by the use of ‘sweetheart’ – even if it hadn’t been used in an affectionate way.

“I’m going to have a shower,” Iwaizumi said, smirking at you. “I hope you’re feeling better by the time I get out.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, eyes fixated determinedly on your computer screen. If you looked up and saw his glutes, you were sure you’d implode.

You covered your face with your forearms, letting out a silent scream.

Why did God hate you? Why did he want you to suffer? Every time you thought you’d got it under control, you were reminded of the fact that Iwaizumi looked like that, and any work you’d done to neatly tuck your romantic feelings into a box managed to wriggle like a rebellious young cat.

Every goddamn time, you were reminded of just how determined he was, how responsible, how quietly caring, how—

No. You shook your head. No need to indulge those thoughts. Not when you were supposed to be doing work.

Although, there was no way you were getting anything done today.

✧ ✧ ✧

“How old are you in these?” You grinned, glancing at Kohei.

His cheeks flushed. “I think I was like… sixteen here?”

“Sixteen, huh?”

“You know what high schools like back home,” he whined. “We all deserve some stress relief.”

“And yours was… running at each other across a field while screaming at the top of your lungs?”

“You should try it,” he beamed. “It’s surprisingly effective.”

You laughed, your body curving towards him.

You hadn’t planned on inviting Kohei over today. You’d just happened to bump into him by chance on campus as you were heading home. As usual, he’d struck up quite the conversation. But you’d wanted to get home before it got dark, so you’d invited him to come with you.

So there you were, sitting on your couch in the front room, listening to Kohei tell you about the stupid video he and his high school friends made back in Osaka. Most of them were re-enactments of Naruto scenes.

To each their own, you supposed.

The creak of front door came from around the corner.

“Hey Hajime!” You called out.

“Hey,” he called back, voice warm.

“You’re home later than usual,” you said.

“I was hanging out with Taiki,” he explained. “We got bubble tea.”

“Oh, nice,” you nodded, watching as he came into view.

He smiled as he caught sight of you. It took him a moment to realise you weren’t alone.

“You remember Kohei, right?” You gestured to the boy sitting next to you.

“Hello,” Kohei nodded, bright smile on his face.

“Hi,” Iwaizumi said. His smile disappeared, expression becoming even stonier than usual.

The atmosphere felt a shade cooler than it had a moment prior.

“You didn’t tell me you were having someone over,” Iwaizumi said coolly, heading to his bedroom.

“It was impromptu,” you explained.

“Mhm,” was the last sound you heard before he disappeared down the hall.

You clenched your fists in your lap. Had something happened? Was it okay to ask?

If something was up, Kohei certainly hadn’t noticed it. Not that you expected him to.

“How’d you feel about the most recent Godzilla film?” He asked.

“Uh… I don’t think we have it.” That was the polite way of saying ‘Iwaizumi hates that film with his entire being, and he wouldn’t dare debase this household by buying it on DVD.’

You’d heard his rant a couple of times, actually – insufficient screen time for Godzilla, a lack of understanding of the point of a monster movie, mediocre battles.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Kohei shrugged. “It’s on Netflix.”

“Ah, I see,” you nodded.

Why did it already feel like agreeing to a movie was a mistake?

✧ ✧ ✧

Thirty minutes in and you knew it was a mistake.

You were bored. Horribly, terribly bored.

But you didn’t have the heart to tell Kohei that when he, at least, seemed to be enjoying himself.

Besides, you could find other ways to occupy yourself. You could just think (see: fantasise) about Gojou Satoru. That’d been more than enough to keep you entertained during your duller classes.

Iwaizumi ambled into the kitchen, his eyes flicking to the two of you for only a second. You held up your hand a little as a greeting; he didn’t return it.

You swallowed, turning your ‘attention’ back to the TV.

Something was wrong. You didn’t know what, but… If Kohei wasn’t there, you would’ve just walked over to Iwaizumi and asked him if there was any way you could help. But having a guest… complicated things.

Said guest stretched his arms over his head. You hoped, absentmindedly, that he’d had a shower recently.

He laid one of his arms along the top of the couch, just ghosting your shoulders.

You managed to hold back a frown. What was he doing? Was he trying to hit on you? Or was it absentminded? If it was the former, then it was a rather childish way of—

A loud clutter erupted from the kitchen. A quiet ‘shit’ quickly followed.

You shot to your feet on instinct, rushing over to where a very disgruntled Iwaizumi stood.

“Are you okay?” You asked, looking him up and down.

Water stained his shirt, the water jug lying sideways on the countertop.

“I’m fine,” Iwaizumi grunted, setting it upright.

You grabbed the tea towel, dabbing at his shirt. Sure, it wouldn’t be much help, but—

“I said I’m fine.”

You draw back sharply, shocked by the harshness in his voice.

Instead you turned to the puddle of water on the counter, laying the tea towel over it. You watched as it turned a shade darker, seeping through the cotton until there wasn’t a single inch of dry cloth left.

Iwaizumi had turned away from you, standing in front of the sink as he refilled the water jug.

You pressed your lips together, concern and agitation brewing in your gut.

He seemed… Stressed? Irritated? Bitter?

But you couldn’t ask. Not right now. You’d have to wait until Kohei was gone, at the very least. And you didn’t want to pry. Iwaizumi didn’t appreciate that sort of thing.

Was there anything you could do for now? Anything at all?

“Did you want to order food with us?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. It was the best thing you could think of; giving him one less thing to worry about might help, right?

“No,” Iwaizumi said curtly.

You blinked at him. “You sure? It’ll save you the trouble of making dinner.”

“I’d rather eat on my own,” he grumbled.

“Oh,” you murmured.

You were at a total loss. Something was wrong.

But you turned away, slinking back to the couch.

“Is everything okay?” Kohei asked as you sat yourself back down.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

As a precaution, you set a little more distance between the two of you. If you sat any closer, he might get the wrong idea.

✧ ✧ ✧

After what felt like three days, the film was over. What’d happened in it? You couldn’t say. You hadn’t been paying attention.

You’d instead been preoccupied with Iwaizumi.

Maybe you were worrying too much over something minor. Maybe he’d just had a bad day at work. Maybe Taiki had just been a brat. Maybe he just had a few assignments due in close succession.

But that didn’t stop you from feeling anxious. Was that pathetic?

At the very least, you wanted to make sure he was okay. This behaviour seemed… weird.

“What time is it?” You turned to Kohei, tilting your head to the side.

“Uh… eight,” he said, checking his phone.

It was that late already? But there was still so much you needed to get done…

You yawned, stretching you hands above your head. “Thanks for hanging out with me today,” you said, turning to smile at Kohei.

“No problem,” he nodded, in response, offering you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Nothing more needed to be said to get the message across.

The two of you walked towards the front door, Kohei’s steps a little slower than yours.

You didn’t want to make it look like you were trying to rush him out of there, but you also didn’t want to give him the impression that you wanted him to stay. Everything just felt so weird, so… so high stakes. Like any little action you made was at risk of being misinterpreted.

“Well…” Kohei lingered at your door for a moment, looking at you with what seemed to be hope in his eyes.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” You smiled.

“Sure,” he nodded, opening the door. “Thanks.” He seemed a tad more dour than usual. Your stomach twisted a little.

“Bye!” You said, hoping that this, at least, would set your boundaries.

He didn’t seem bold enough to make an actual move, but you’d rather save the trouble.

You watched with a tiny sense of relief blooming in your chest as he stepped over the threshold and walked away.

Once the door finally closed, you let out a long sigh.

Something was up. Even you could tell that. His attempts at flirting, while juvenile, were earnest. What a strange evening this had been…

At the very least, you made a note to not invite him to your house alone again. That’d been your first mistake.

You dragged yourself to the kitchen, pouring out a glass of water. The tea towel was still soaked through, laid out on the counter. You’d probably have to get a bath towel to clean this mess up.

You sunk to the floor, feeling the cool tiles against the back of your thighs.

Were you going to have to turn Kohei down? God, you didn’t want to do that. That sounded awkward. And he was genuinely a sweet guy – your heart just wasn’t in the right space.

Not while you were living with Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi.

Something was off with him, too. But you had no idea what. He’s always been tight-lipped about his own feelings. Even two years ago, it had never been about him; it’d be about the potential ramifications his actions could’ve had on the people around him.

He never wanted to be a burden. Even though he’d leant you a hand so many times these past six months, you knew he’d never ask for the same in return.

But you wanted to help. He deserved support.

Should you ask? Should you try bringing it up, or—

“Oh, fuck.”

Your looked up sharply.

Iwaizumi was stood at the entrance of the kitchen, shoulders tense with surprise.

“Oh, sorry,” you swallowed, crossing your legs.

He just grunted in response, turning his attention to the fridge.

You bit your lip, watching him closely. His posture was tense, his jaw stiffer than usual.

“Hey, Hajime?” You asked, voice soft and quiet.

“What?” His response was quick, sharp.

“Are you alright?” Perhaps you should’ve asked this earlier. Perhaps you shouldn’t ask it at all. But it was too late to take it back.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, half-slamming the fridge door.

“I know you’re lying,” you said softly.

He may keep his feelings to himself, but he wasn’t the best at disguising them. Especially when it came to annoyance.

With Tooru, it tended to bubble over, resulting in some rant or threat. But these days, you didn’t really see him get pissed except for when the washing machine wasn’t working properly.

“Mind your own business.”

Those words cut you to your core.

This was… strange. Unusual. He’d seemed fine this morning, and as far as you knew, he’d just… been to the gym. His demeanour had only taken a nose-dive when…

“Why are you being like this?” You asked, voice thin and tight. God, this better not be what you were thinking.

“Being like what?” Iwaizumi mumbled, staring at his phone.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

Did he really have no idea that he was acting like a petulant child who didn’t want to eat their vegetables?

“Do you have a problem with Kohei?” He couldn’t dodge that question.

“No,” he said, still looking at his phone. “He just comes off as a bit desperate.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You can’t be serious,” Iwaizumi scoffed. “He’s not subtle.”

You stared at him, total confusion clouding your mind.

What on earth was he on about? Desperate? Subtle? Wasn’t it just a case of him having a grudge for no reason?

Wait. Holy fuck. Was he… jealous?

The realisation washed over you like a fever.

Anger, rage, bitterness. It all collapsed in on itself, feelings you’d been supressing for two years.

He’d crushed your heart in the palm of his hand two years ago. Told you that any kind of romantic relationship between the two of you would be too much of a risk.

And you’d let him.

You hadn’t fought back. You hadn’t stood up for your own feelings. You’d just let him do what he wanted, what he thought was best. And never, not even once, had you made your feelings known.

But here he was, with the audacity to be jealous of a guy flirting with you.

He didn’t own you. He had no say in what happened in your personal life. If you wanted to sleep around, if you wanted to have a long-term partner that wasn’t him… it didn’t matter. It was your business, not his.

And yet, the worst thing of all was that this response, this jealousy, made your heart flutter. It made you hopeful; that maybe, this time, things might be different.

That Iwaizumi Hajime wasn’t so far out of reach. That this time, you had a chance.

Fuck him.

“No,” you hissed. “I’m not letting you break my heart again.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes blew wide, his lips parting slightly.

“You dropped me like I was nothing two years ago,” you scoffed. “You don’t get to act like a spoilt little brat just because you’re jealous.”

“Look, I—” He stopped himself in his tracks.

He really had nothing to say for himself, huh?

You glared at him, the corners of your eyes beginning to sting. “You’re acting like a child,” you hissed. “I hoped you were better than that.”

You didn’t give him time to respond.

He didn’t deserve to.

You stormed off to your room, slamming the door behind you.

A deep, shuddering breath wasn’t enough to still your stuttering heart. Nor was it enough to move the lump in your throat.

God, what a colossal disaster.

But for once, it wasn’t your fault.

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: sorry this one’s late! thank you for your patience :( i hope it was worth the wait

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #tiny love

467 notes · View notes

luminois · 3 years

Text

— 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧;

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐰: 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐲, 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝟏𝟕𝟖𝟓 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

looking down through the hole in the clouds, your wings fluttered in excitement and trepidation. the white feathers caressed your arms as they closed in on themselves, hugging your figure reassuringly.

you could see the whole world from above, magnificent and so far away. you hadn’t been an angel for long, and the memories of your past life were still present in your mind. they were nothing more than specks of light, little presents from the past that made you smile. someone laughing, a farm, the taste of freshly picked grapes, naked feet running on the grass. you had lived surrounded by animals and wheat fields, simple tasks filling up sunny days. you’d been happy, that’s what the memories suggested, and you were happy now. you didn’t know what you’d done to earn eternity, but you knew you wanted to help others reach it too.

an archangel, in his luminescent beauty, was calling the names of the angels huddled around the cavity. every time one of them got closer to the archangel, the world became bigger and bigger until only one, specific place on earth was visible. that was where the angel was being sent to, where a great amount of humans had lost themselves to sin and were in need of an angel to bring them back to the right path. you had waited for decades to be sent on earth, and now the moment had finally arrived.

the archangel called your name and you went, light on your feet, the golden path cold under them. everything in paradise was chilly, made of glass and crystal and precious metals, breathtakingly perfect. you’d always found it somewhat unsettling, how everything seemed so easy to break and nobody ever tried to. would a swift move of your hand or just a little more pressure shatter what had been there forever? you were convinced the answer was yes, and the idea of being the first was fascinating, even if you’d never act upon it. you wondered.

the place you were going to was nothing more than a town. it had been the perfect place to live until the residents had started to be uncaring of the things around them, and now it had become dirty and unpleasant. litter filled the streets, graffiti ruined every wall and many shops had closed down, now only displaying shattered windows.

“the devil has found his way to these poor souls’ hearts,” the archangel said. his voice sounded like it didn’t come from him, like it was resonating in your own head. “they’ve lost their path. the greatest of gifts is a lighthouse in the dark, tumultuous sea. go and be their light, and they will be grateful for eternity.”

the archangel leaned down to kiss your hair, and when you opened your eyes again your wings were gone, and you weren’t cold anymore.

“i can’t thank you enough, sweetie. you’re an angel.”

you smiled as you handed the paper bag filled with freshly made bread over the bakery’s counter. the elderly man with teary eyes was a regular, and one of your favorite people in town. the darkness hadn’t reached his soul directly, he was too good hearted, but he’d been greatly affected by everyone’s wrongdoings. his share of bread was always on the house.

“i’m really not, sir,” you said, “knowing i’m being of help is a pleasure.”

the man showed his almost toothless smile and left, leaving you alone to rest against the counter, taking a breath before going to check the pastries cooking in the oven. being a human was exhausting, even if it was just play-pretend. you now had to sleep and eat and you were often tired, concepts unknown to otherworldly creatures.

it had been a little over the human equivalent of a month since you’d reached earth. you didn’t know how much had passed in paradise, years maybe, the working of time wasn’t a topic you were interested in. your time was infinite, the one thing you didn’t have to worry about.

you’d had to make up a story, explaining who you were and why you’d suddenly appeared out of thin air. like almost every other shop in town, the bakery had been abandoned when you first arrived, so you fixed it up and became a young girl starting a small business in a lovely town. or the remnants of it, that is.

behind the facade of the bakery, your true job was to make things better, and you could confidently say it was going well. the mayor was a corrupt, money-hungry woman who had left her town to care for itself. but since she didn’t care about what her citizens did, you hadn’t found any resistance upon asking permission to start your own public initiatives. it had been hard to convince people to work for anything other than personal gain, but you’d discovered that kindness was the best remedy.

yours was the only bakery in town, and everyone had visited it sooner or later. watching people go from being nothing but rude to reserving their best smile for every time they opened your door was priceless. now the streets weren’t as dirty thanks to the people who had volunteered to help you clean them, and you were planning on removing the graffiti next. you didn’t have much power over unemployment and poverty, but you were sure everything would fix itself once everyone would have found the right path again.

you took out the pastries from the oven before sighing in satisfaction and walking to the door, turning the open sign. you murmured to yourself the list of things you had to do now that the bakery was closed as you walked to the back, entering the room you called home. you’d promised to help the woman who lived down the street bake a cake for her son’s birthday and plant some daisies in her garden. only days prior you’d helped her paint over the worn-out outside of her house, and it was really starting to look like a lovely place.

you took off your apron before facing the mirror next to the door. you knew your wings weren’t there, but seeing yourself without them was a surprise every time. you turned as much as you could to look at your back, moving your hair to the side as they covered the space between your shoulder blades. how could something that was a part of yourself just disappear like that? what was even more surreal was that you didn’t particularly miss the expanse of white feathers. you were just unused to their absence, but you were capable of doing everything without them just fine. the only thing left to show your angelic nature were your brightly golden eyes, staring back at you before you looked away.

you should’ve been afraid of walking by yourself in the seemingly deserted street, but you knew you weren’t alone. you could feel eyes boring into your skin as you walked, following you like a predator and its prey. that’s why you didn’t scream when someone grabbed your arm and your back hit the brick wall of a narrow alley, but a hand was still pressed over your mouth.

you always felt warm on earth, not missing the freezing air of paradise at all. right now, through, you felt more than warm. your skin was burning, like the fire in the stranger’s red irises.

he was beautiful, more than any of the angels you’d met, more than the archangels and more than what you’d imagined the highest would look like. strands of long hair touched his cheeks and the corners of his smirking lips, pitch black like the tattoos on his arms and the sleeveless shirt he was wearing. his eyes were filled with amusement and something dark that came from within. a demon. you gulped, and he noticed.

“oh little angel, am i scaring you?”

your wide eyes looked up at him, and he cooed. he was tall, hovering over you with his wide shoulders, the heat radiating from him making your cheeks bloom with crimson. his tone had been sweet, but there was sarcasm and bite behind his words.

“what have you been doing, uh? going around and ruining all the work i’ve done before you came. that’s a mean thing to do, angel. why are you being so mean to me?”

the big hand covering your mouth moved to loosely wrap around your neck. you gulped again, unable to look away from him or say a word, and his eyes flickered down as your neck moved. the demon could feel your heartbeat under his hand, rushed as your heart tripped over itself, and he bit down his lips as his smirk got bigger.

“i asked you a question, angel. it’s rude to ignore people like that,” he said, raising his eyebrows at you, waiting for your answer.

you opened your mouth a couple times before any sound got past your lips, the demon’s fingers holding your neck a little tighter. “i’m making things better because you ruined them.”

he gasped, but so exaggeratedly it sounded fake. you knew it was, and it made you blush more.

“you’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” he said, his sugary tone mocking you. “you say you’re making things better, but i think you’re ruining them, we’re not going to get along like this. what should we do?”

“you should stop,” you said, your voice a little more sure as the fear started to wear out.

he was bigger and stronger, but you were both humans right now. he had no more power than the sheer strength in his hands, and even if that was enough to kill you it wouldn’t have. the highest wouldn’t have let one of his angels die on earth like that. or that’s what you hoped.

“you know i can’t, this is what i do,” the demon said. the hold on your neck disappeared, but he got closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “hyunjin. learn my name, angel, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. whenever you ruin something i’ll fix it, mmh? would you like that?”

both of hyunjin’s inked arms were resting on the side of your head now, his bicep right in front of your eyes. he wouldn’t have had problems with shattering the entirety of paradise with his fists, and he wouldn’t have hesitated either. your words were caught up in the knot stuck in your throat, keeping you from answering. but if you hadn’t been petrified by his presence and the boiling blood running through your veins, what would you have said?

you wondered.

do you want to read more?

banner by @blueprint-han

taglist: @sleepylixie @bobateastay @meiiyue @aliceu @softieyn @riel-precious @witchylixie @tulipsandfire @sparklemin @anskiie @tpwkjerii @blackkacchan @fournia @parachuuuus @inlovewithasa @skzshortcake

207 notes · View notes

permanentcrossfics · 3 years

Text

Blurred Lines: A Different Christmas // h.s.

How do we write Christmas fics in a really weird year? I’m still not sure, but I tried to string together a bit of relief for the end of December. I’m shutting myself up now, even though there’s lots I want to say. This is for anyone who wants it, anyone who needs it, anyone who enjoys it (or hates it!) silently and vocally alike. My Christmas gift is the happy and unexpected bonus of anyone reading what I have so much selfish fun thinking of and spinning out. Happy and Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, and a happy and merry end of December if you don’t and are just doing you! x

9.1k

It was the big Christmas tree you’d dragged back home by yourself on top of a rickety shopping cart all the way from a place on Second Avenue that had been your breaking point. Picking it had its own bittersweet undertones, but the smell of fresh pine tickling your nose even through a mask had kept you afloat as you struggled to get it off and onto curbs before traffic pancaked you in the middle of the road. It wasn’t until you were back inside, still wrapped in your coat and struggling to get it upright in the stand the correct way that you burst into a torrent of hot, selfish tears and bowed your head, kneeling next to the mass of needles and branches. He should be here! He should be helping you. He should’ve helped anchor lights in windows, he should’ve had an opinion on the scented candles, he should’ve made you go back for decorations you just weren’t sure of because you wanted them regardless of what he thought, and he should’ve helped pick, and carry, and set up the tree. The whole reason you’d gone out to get a fresh tree – something real in a year that had felt anything but – was to lift your spirits, but instead you were sobbing next to it and it all felt a little dramatically pointless. It was everything you’d avoided last year by flying off to England but that you couldn’t escape this time. What was the point? What was the point of pretending?

Read NOW on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad

“You coming home with me this year?”

Again. He asked the same question you’ve been dodging for weeks since plans had started to look uncertain again, not because he was pestering you, but because somehow, some way, you were both hoping for an answer with a loophole.

“I can’t,” you said softly, regretfully, holding your phone close to your face with one arm as you curled up under the duvet of a bed in an apartment that had somehow become yours together instead of his alone throughout the course of a very new, very different, very unsettling year. “For a few reasons.”

And he knew that.

Harry’s deep breath crackled and he dragged his hand down his face, holding it there as he shook his head, the thought processes you’d learned to read so well hidden from view.

You’d liked going home with him last year -- loved it, even. You’d hardly had time to look forward to a repeat when the world had flipped in the first quarter or sooner, and the sand had just kept slipping through the hourglass until all time for hope of a new and normal Christmas was gone and sucked away into the void of the year.

So many plans. So many memories that lived only as memories of daydreams now. So much else, so much more important, devastating, and tragic you couldn’t even put it into words and, frankly, didn’t want to. Not now -- you spent too much time thinking about it to think about it now, too.

“Filming’s done soon,” he said from behind his hand. “I can book my flight to New York--”

“Harry--”

“And then go to Manchester after Christmas -- after the New Year, we always take a bit of a longer break. Mum won’t mind--”

“Your mother’s barely seen you since last Christmas,” you said. “Your sister, too, and there’s not enough time to--”

“Course there is!”

“Two weeks quarantine in each?” you asked. “That’s a month of staying put, let alone--”

A split second glance at his face was all you saw before the screen went black and you bit your tongue. He hadn’t hung up, because you’d heard the soft thud when his phone collided with his chest, and you could hear him breathing now, so you waited, suppressing your own urge to snap as he had his. Despite having spent the better part of the year together, it was frustrating to think about not being together for the season. All you wanted was him, though you knew better than to voice it out loud. He’d do it -- for you, he’d do it if you asked him to -- and you’d have to live with the guilt of taking him away from his family at the time of year where family should be together most, if it mattered to them. And you’d been weirdly lucky enough to have him most of the year between carefully navigated business trips. He was only one man with one body. It didn’t -- couldn’t -- matter that you wanted him, too.

That you wanted to be with the man you loved.

When he picked up the phone again, his face was drawn, tired, and not just from filming, you suspected.

“Go home,” you urged, swallowing the break in your voice. “You miss home, and home misses you. I’ll have fun decorating and send you all the pictures you won’t be able to do anything about.”

His throat bobbed hard, audibly, and his eyes looked dangerously shiny.

“Next year I’ll go home with you,” you said, burrowing half your face into your pillow. “London and Holmes Chapel both.”

“Next year,” he said eventually, voice raspy. “We’ll have Christmas at home next year.”

You nodded, forcing the lump rising up, up, and up back down. “You should go to sleep,” you said. “It’s late and you have to be up early.”

“Later for you,” he said and you sighed, noting the 3:08 timestamp at the top of your screen.

“Let’s go,” you said. “Call me when you can.”

“I will.” Sad, but resigned. You wanted to reach through the screen and touch the downturned corners of his mouth to push them back upright again. “Sleep well, and I love you.”

Taking a deep breath, you murmured, “I love you, too,” before hanging up the call and the room descended into darkness and you into a fitful sleep.

***

At first, you were determined to make the most of it. Your studio had always been small, cozy, and Christmasy to the best of your abilities, but his -- your -- apartment had so many more possibilities. Candles were the first to be set out, with strategic clusters of red, green, and gold-colored wax placed all about and nestled in fake holly wreaths. String lights that cast a pretty glow lined windows even in the bedroom for some last minute holiday cheer, and despite the urge to drive him up a wall, you did your best to only pick out other decorations that you’d both like and want to use in the future. Because as much as you might avoid talking about it in many certain terms the longer the relationship went on (it still felt so funny to think that a one night stand had turned into a relationship), there was a future. He was your future. It wasn’t your first Christmas together, but it might be your last one apart.

He should be here! He should be helping you. He should’ve helped anchor lights in windows, he should’ve had an opinion on the scented candles, he should’ve made you go back for decorations you just weren’t sure of because you wanted them regardless of what he thought, and he should’ve helped pick, and carry, and set up the tree. The whole reason you’d gone out to get a fresh tree -- something real in a year that had felt anything but -- was to lift your spirits, but instead you were sobbing next to it and it all felt a little dramatically pointless. It was everything you’d avoided last year by flying off to England but that you couldn’t escape this time. What was the point? What was the point of pretending?

Wiping your nose, you stood, eyes heavy, swollen, and itchy. With your coat gone, you heaved the tree up until it was sitting securely in its stand, needles scattered in its wake but branches full and outstretched, enveloping you in the warm smell of Christmas in a way the cedar- and balsam-scented candles couldn’t. Stepping back with your hands on your hips, you looked up at it, the swell of your anxiety simmering, thanks partly to your crying fit and partly to succeeding at the task. You’d decorate it bit by bit to draw the season out, and then on Christmas Eve, you’d call him and you’d both sit by your own trees and talk until it was Christmas Day for him. It was just for now -- this wasn’t the way of all ways for all time.

Click.

You nearly passed out cold from the rush of fearful adrenaline shooting through you when the lock on the door clicked. In three seconds, you ran through whether or not you’d locked the door, determined that you had but then had forgotten, and figured out that somehow, someone had gotten in and they weren’t supposed to. You spun, frozen, brain zooming to determine if you dove behind a sofa or if you charged, but you didn’t get the chance before the door opened.

A duffle bag, a foot, a body, in that order, and then a pair of wide, green eyes rimmed with circles just above a cloth mask.

“You do not get to be mad at me,” he said, voice muffled. He grunted and pushed the door open wider to bring in the rest of his luggage as you stood there, as equally speechless as you were breathless. “I tested before I came here,” he said, speaking with a loud if exhausted sort of authority, like he was trying to get the words out before you could protest. “But I’ll take the guest room, and I’ll get my own food, and we’ll keep out of each other’s space until the two weeks are up.”

He brought his bags in the rest of the way, and it was only when he was halfway by you that he stopped in his tracks. “Y’haven’t moved,” he said, eyebrows furrowing as he narrowed his eyes on you. “Are you all right?”

Lightheaded, you nodded.

“O… kay,” he said, stilted, still eyeing you. “M’just gonna go get settled and showered, then.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, the words finally forcing themselves from you.

“S’Christmas.”

“You’re supposed to--”

“Mum knows,” he interrupted. “M’taking Christmas here this year. Gem’ll have Christmas with her and I’ll go along after. She’s excited about having two. ‘Scuse me….”

Nodding, you waved him away to hurry, shoo, because you could feel the emotions rising in you again and your confusion wasn’t enough to quell them. Fifteen minutes ago, you’d been kneeling on the floor with aching knees, crying, and now here he was.

You’d wrestle with the confliction of doing what was right and doing what you wanted… later. Later, when you could wrap your head around it and the choice he’d made.

Two weeks. That would put you just on Christmas Day, basically. Just two weeks.

***

Dodging him around the apartment was a lot more difficult than you would’ve guessed for how big it was. More than once you nearly slammed into him in the kitchen, and someone was always in the favored bathroom. For his part, he’d taken to wearing a mask when he roamed, and even though you told him he didn’t have to do that, all he did was hum behind it. You got it -- the positive result from the crewperson on set had spooked everyone, and he was being safe. You both were being safe, but for as mindful as you’d been throughout, all you wanted to do was hold him, hug him, kiss him. Video calls were ridiculous when you were in the same house and you could hear his laugh through the walls. But you got it, and if you kicked too much he’d book a hotel to quarantine away from you, so you’d rather have him here, as selfish and risky as it was.

It was three days into your little bubble that he finally dared to get within arm’s reach of you. You were mulling over where to put the chimney sweep ornament when he shuffled over to the foot of the ladder you were leaning on, and you raised an eyebrow, arm outstretched.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

He shook his head, the lights from the tree reflected in his eyes. “Just watching,” he said from behind his mask.

“You’re standing a little close, aren’t you?” you teased. Jokes were all you had -- all anyone had this year, if they were lucky.

Immediately, he scowled -- how funny you could tell what his face looked like so clearly even with the cloth stretched firmly across it -- and you giggled. “Watch what you’re doing,” he said, taking his hands from his sweatshirt pocket to grab the ladder legs, and with his support, you held on tightly and leaned over to place it on the prime branch.

“Thank you,” you said. “Do you want to pass me that box?”

He did so and you murmured your thanks, resting it on the top step as you pulled ornaments out to hang them.

“Not there,” he said before you could drop a hook over a branch with a snowflake. “Give it… thank you.” He took it carefully from you and placed it on a different one closer to him, lower than where you were placing it but slightly higher than you could reach without a ladder.

“Thank you.”

Together, slowly, ornaments were hooked and rehooked (and rehooked yet again when one of you noticed the other had moved them from a spot you each thought was perfect) until the tree was trimmed, each branch heavily laden, bearing the weight of ornaments and of providing joy after the year behind.

“How’d you get this home?” he asked, looking up at it with you once you were off the ladder.

“Carefully,” you said dryly. “Oh! The top.” You turned, but he cut across your path.

“I’ve got it,” he said, grabbing the box from the precarious stack next to the coffee table.

“I want to,” you whined and he snorted.

“You’ve done the whole bloody thing,” he said without venom. “Let me do just the one.” With it in hand, he climbed the ladder as you held it steady, and he set it on the topmost branch, prodding it until it was tall and straight up, all five points outstretched and shining.

“That’s perfect,” you said under your breath, resting your head on his leg, and he patted the top of your head gently. You stayed like that for a minute, two, three, and more, with your arm curling around his calf, embracing as much physical contact as he’d allowed since he came home. “How many more days?”

“Eleven.” He sounded thoughtful, resentful, and exhausted all in one go. You squeezed his leg and kissed his knee through his joggers.

“Then it’s Christmas,” you said.

He exhaled slowly, still patting your head. “Christmas morning.”

***

Eleven. Whole. Days.

Eleven days of more of the same. He’d eased up, thankfully, and dared to venture a little closer with a mask on, because, as you’d reminded him, he had tested negative. You sat on opposite ends of the couch, enjoying the Christmas tree and decorations together, laughing, talking, planning, and exchanging stories about everything that had happened while you were apart. His, of course, were wildly more interesting, but he somehow managed to hang onto every word of even your most droll and mundane ones, and always with the right questions and supportive murmurs of agreement as necessary.

Eleven days of saying goodnight and crawling into a bed that was too big for one when two was next door.

Eleven days of not being able to share meals properly or touch each other -- sex aside -- and eleven days of Hell.

“It’s your fault,” you said one night from your end of the couch, scowling with your arms crossed. The tree twinkled happily despite your sour mood, and music that was too merry and bright played from the television.

“Me?” he asked indignantly.

“Yes! You had to do that stupid film.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“You’re wearing a mask in our home,” you said, burrowing into the cushions. “If I want to call it stupid, I will.”

He groaned, dropping his head forward. “Baby….”

You grunted.

“It’s only a couple more days. A couple more days, and then it’s Christmas. Think of it like a present you’re waiting for.”

Despite yourself, you snorted.

“I’m all you want for Christmas, aren’t--?”

“Shut up,” you said, kicking his thigh with your extended leg. He snickered, eyes crinkled and full of light all their own.

“Couple more days,” he said, patting your ankle. “Couple more days, and then you won’t even be able to get rid of me. We’ll be in bed all weekend.”

“I’m not calling your mother from bed.”

He waggled his brows with some exaggeration and you rolled your eyes.

That had been around day five, maybe six. Suffice it to say, by Christmas Eve, you were done.

“It’s one day!” you said over breakfast in the kitchen. “One day, Harry!”

“We made it this long,” he said, pouring hot coffee into a mug that had his face printed onto the head of dancing elf -- a gift from his mother shipped along with a matching one for you that she insisted you both open ahead of time to enjoy for as long as possible. “We can make it a couple more hours.”

“If I stripped naked, what would you do? Stand there and watch me?”

He froze and looked at you over his mask, the heated warning pinning you in place. Huffing, you pushed the stool away from the counter and hopped off it.

“Where are you--?”

“Out,” you said. “I’m going to get--” You floundered. “Coffee.”

A beat passed and his eyes dropped to the mug in his hand.

“We literally have--”

“I’m going out!” you said, wrapping your neck and half your face up in a scarf to keep warm. You were going out, because you were mad, and the tantrum was burgeoning. That poor man had seen more unreasonable tantrums from you this year than he had in the entire two and a half you’d reciprocally acknowledged each other’s presence, and you hated it. But he’d hate it, too, if you’d gone on a trip for work and come back and things were off.

Could be worse, you reminded yourself. It could be so very, very much worse.

“I love you,” you said, calmly, firmly. “I’ll be back. I’m only going around the block. Take that--” You waved at his mask, “--off. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way in..”

When you returned, he was in the guest room, but a fresh cup of coffee in your own dancing elf mug rested on a mug warming plate. The last of your frustrations that hadn’t melted with the walk deflated and you picked it up, enjoying the aroma before taking a deep sip.

He always made it better. And the coffee was nice, too.

His mother called in the afternoon and you hardly noticed he was at your side until the phone was in front of your face and you gave a startled hello.

“Has he been wearing that the whole time he’s been home with you?” she asked, her gleaming eyes and wide, genuine smile matching her son’s own warmth.

Home. With you.

“He has,” you said.

“S’posed to be proud of me,” Harry said and Anne laughed.

“Of course, sweetheart. We’re still calling tomorrow?” she asked you.

“Yeah,” you said. “We’ll be here.”

“Next year will be different, won’t it?” she all but clucked. “Did you like your mugs? I got one for me, Gemma, and Michal, too.”

“Used them just this morning,” he said, squeezing your hip and wandering away. “Won’t be posting them anywhere for people to see, though….”

Eventually -- finally -- the day drew to a close, and you crawled into bed with the knowledge that it was just one more night. One more night, and then in the morning you could say hello like you wanted to. One more night and you wouldn’t want to bite his head off. One more night and you wouldn’t feel so mental, as he would put it.

And yet, lying there, the minutes dragged. Ten? No, just one. Fifteen? Five.

It felt like Christmas, though. As much as this was pure torture, this was what Christmas was supposed to feel like -- like it used to feel when you were a kid and you’d wait for weeks tingling anticipation, counting down, hoping that you’d find what you wanted under the tree, bursting with more energy than any amount of sugar could give you. Except instead of presents, or money, or sweets, you were waiting for the man who’d been under your nose for two weeks by this point. You got to kiss your boyfriend tomorrow. You got to see your boyfriend, hold your boyfriend, and celebrate Christmas with your boyfriend.

Twenty minutes? Two.

12:02.

Two minutes after midnight.

Christmas.

Fourteen days.

Oh!

You sprang from the bed before you could think about the matter and darted to the door over the cold wooden floor, but when you rounded the corner in the hallway, out of nowhere, something all but slammed into you. Sucking in a sharp breath with a screwed up face, you squeaked when you collided with a very warm, very sturdy frame. Belatedly, two arms shot out to grab you by yours to steady you. “Oh my God, I--”

Hair, forehead, eyes, nose, and mouth, too. No mask.

“Are you o--?”

He didn’t get to finish his question. You clapped your hands over his cheeks and kissed him soundly before he could kiss you first. Under ordinary circumstances, he’d laugh -- you both would -- but rather than that, he locked both his arms around you tightly and spun you, teetering precariously with you in tow until you got to the guest bed. Tackle was an apt word for how he delivered you to it, but you were the farthest thing from upset at finally having not even an inch of space between you. The bed smelled like him and it was warm, he was warm, and you were kissing again, and again, and again, cold noses smushing together as you found new angles.

“Christmas,” he mumbled between them.

“Mmhm,” you returned against his mouth, legs interlocking with his. “I missed you,” you whispered.

“Missed you, too.”

Shivering, you both pulled the duvet up over your shoulders, and you curled up against him. Cologne, skin, and laundry detergent, with a bit of his minty toothpaste. There was no scented candle for that. You pressed your fingers against his chest and scratched lightly through the smattering of hair there. “We could go to our bed,” you reminded him, but he shook his head.

“Y’here now,” he rasped, leaning in to press his lips comfortably to your hairline, one arm draped over your back. “Let’s stay here tonight and we can change things later.”

“Were you coming to get me?” you asked, voice shaking as the last of the shivers left your bones.

“Yeah,” he admitted. You laughed, teeth chattering, and he pulled you closer. “Don’t laugh!” he said, rubbing your back and warming you. “S’been two weeks for me, hasn’t it?”

“For you!”

“You try bein’ home with you for that long,” he mumbled.

Shaking again, but less than before, you kissed the underside of his chin. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

***

When you woke up, his back was to you, and his one shoulder was rising and falling with the rhythm of his sputtery, wheezy snores. You smiled, closing your eyes, and snuggled into the pillow. Better -- much better. You dozed on for an unknown amount of time, and you were walking the line between sleep and consciousness when featherlight kisses across your brow startled you and you jerked awake.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, only sounding slightly truthful. You made a noise and stretched, shaking from head to toe before curling up into a tight little ball next to him and opening your eyes fully. His own were puffy with sleep, but he grinned radiantly as if he’d been awake for a while.

“What?” you asked in a croak.

“Nothing,” he said. “Mum’s gonna call soon.”

Groaning, you halfheartedly turned your head to look over your shoulder. “What time is it?” you asked, straining to see the window and get a gauge.

“S’ten,” he said. “So about three for them. Sure you don’t want to call from bed?”

You glowered at him and his lip twitched. “I’ll put the coffee on.”

When you finally managed to leave the warm nest of the bed, the living room had been transformed. The tree was on, twinkling under the streams of light pouring in through the windows, and he’d lit the fireplace, too, flames licking up and up behind the glass. Soft, melodic Christmas music floated from the far corners of the room, and the smell of coffee tickled your nose.

“So,” he said from his spot at the island as he unwrapped cheeses and opened jars of olives, and jams, and honeys, and other goodies. “What time do we pop the bubbly?”

Laughing softly, you shuffled over. “It’s ten.”

“Little after ten now,” he said, lips pressed tightly together and arms flexed until the lid popped. “And somewhere in the world it’s five o’clock.”

You pulled a grape off the bunch lying on the counter and popped it into your mouth, chewing not so delicately but enjoying the sweet burst of freshness. You’d no sooner swallowed than his phone started buzzing and you grabbed it, sliding your finger to answer the call from the incoming Mum and pointing it at him.

“Happy Christmas, honey.” Anne’s voice was warm even through the phone, and Harry’s head whipped up.

“Wh-- Happy Christmas-- didn’t know you were-- ‘scuse the mess,” he said as you giggled behind the phone.

“Having a good morning so far?”

“Goin’ ok, yeah,” he said. “Just getting started, heating up the coffee.”

“Where’s your better half gotten off to?”

Trying not to melt, you waved your hand in front of the camera.

“Hello, love,” she said. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Anne.”

“Are we going to get to see you today?”

“Fair’s fair,” Harry chimed in. “Turn that thing around, why don’t you?”

Rolling your eyes, you flipped the phone and waved, sliding around the counter to stand next to him.

“That’s better,” Anne said with a firm nod. She had a red top on with a festive, sparkly necklace, and looked a good deal more put together than either one of you.

“Where’s Gem?” Harry asked, taking the phone from you so you could unbox the crackers.

“Upstairs napping off the morning,” she said. “She’ll want to call again later.”

And that was how the morning went, with each of you passing his mother back and forth while you carried plates and trays full of snacks to the coffee table and couch in front of the tree to nibble while tearing into gifts on camera, including a box full of chocolates for you, Branston pickle for him, and Christmas crackers for both of you to have, “A little bit of home this year.”

“Thank you,” you said, clutching your sweets close. “And thank you for--” Unbidden, you choked up, and Harry glanced at you sharply, his inquisition vanishing with his understanding. For sharing him -- allowing you to steal him away during the holidays in a year where everyone needed family, either by blood or choice. He squeezed your shoulders and his mother, as adept as he was at redirecting a conversation, piped up.

“Promise you’ll come see us again next year,” Anne said. “It’s been too long.”

“It has been,” you agreed, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“Maybe sooner.” Harry looked down at you. “If things ease up?”

You nodded. “Summer in London,” you mused. “That would be nice.”

“And then a bit of time back home. We could go before things pick up in August.”

Summer in London. A beacon of hope you couldn’t erect just yet, but a beacon nevertheless. A bit of time with him before he, hopefully, went back to work and you got to revisit adjusted and postponed plans.

The rest of your Christmas Day was quiet -- different from the year before when you’d been overwhelmed with names, faces, screeches of Uncle Harry, and not being sure how to break your way in. You kept trays of cheese, crackers, and other snacks within an arm’s reach, and by the early afternoon both of you had a comfortably steady buzz from the bubbly he was good at topping off both your glasses with -- never sloppily drunk, but enough to be warm in your fingers and toes and to seek out cuddles from him under the blanket you were snuggled in on the sofa with paper crowns on both your heads.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked, ribs crunched from how far you’d slid down on the sofa to nestle into his side, all but eye-level with his chest. “And have it not be as awful as it sounds?”

You felt his laugh before you heard it. “Sure,” he drawled. “What is it?”

Squeezing his wrist, you turned your mouth into his forearm, eyes on the television as a snowman leapt and bounded over a wide, snowy plain before jumping into the air. “I like this Christmas,” you admitted into his skin.

Harry snorted. “S’not awful, s’the point -- Christmas is supposed to be likeable.”

“You know what I mean,” you said, sighing. “I know it’s just us and there’s no family or anyone around, but… I dunno… it’s not all bad, is it?”

“Like having me to yourself?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Shut up,” you mumbled.

He kissed the top of your head, crown crunching under it, and you grunted. “S’not so bad,” he said into your hair. “Like having you all to myself, too, y’know.”

“You’re just saying that because you have to because you’re stuck with me,” you said and he laughed with another smacking kiss.

“Not stuck with me yet,” he crooned. “Can leave any time you want.”

“Maybe I will….”

“Oi!”

Giggling, you untangled yourself from him and squirmed out from underneath the blanket. “More bubbly?”

***

Boxing Day was a Christmas redux, with more cheese, sparkling wine, music, and calls with family and friends. Long distance versions of old favorite games were adapted and adopted, and you snickered quietly from the corner of the couch, staying out of his way when he shouted about how he had hit the button, it was his trackpad that hadn’t worked.

The late afternoon and on, though, was yours together and alone with the time difference breaking up the party earlier than it normally would be. The bittersweet cloud vanished, though, when you at some point you separated even further into your own activities -- him with his stack of new books and you with a film you played quietly on your laptop. Able to be near each other without having to be wrapped up and begging with your bodies for sorely missed attention, it finally, really, felt like home again.

“It’s so pretty out,” you murmured, nose pressed to the windowpane to see as much of the light-lined streets as you could. It got dark earlier and earlier these days, and yet later than it had even a few days ago. “I love Christmas in New York. I wish--” You caught yourself ahead of finishing the sentence, thinking better.

You wished it was a normal year -- for many reasons -- so you two could go out and see the city. So you could show him your favorite places, so you could make memories together like you had with him last year. It wasn’t anything life altering or new, but it was different when you were with someone you loved. You wanted him to know you -- all of you, even the unknowable parts.

“Y’know,” he said next to your ear, hand on the back of your neck as he slunk up behind you, “it’s getting pretty late.”

You turned your head slightly, looking at him in the reflection of the glass. “Do you want to go to bed?”

Too early for sleep. Was he asking for sex?

Harry hummed and shook his head. “How ‘bout you get your coat on?” he murmured. “Let’s have that Boxing Day walk we didn’t get last year.”

“Now?”

“When else?” he said. “Haven’t been out yet, and it’s late. Streets’ll be empty. We can go wherever, do whatever, see whatever.”

“You’re serious?”

Nodding, he pulled you by the arm and you stumbled with him, still processing it even as you pulled beanies on with masks and (winter) gloves.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

He shrugged, calling the elevator. “Dunno,” he said. “Figured you’d lead the way. Show me your favorite bits. Seem t’remember summat about Bryant Park last year.”

There were sobering realities at the street level, too. Gates were down on storefronts that hadn’t been pulled up since March, awnings above them tattered from months of neglect and ‘For Rent’ signs flapping against them in the wind. The usual post-holiday influx of tourists was thinned, with hardly a white sneaker in sight, and everything was just a little quieter than it should be and would be in a usual year.

But there were lights. Broadway’s may have dimmed for the time being, but endless, endless displays of lights, brighter without the ambient light pouring from storefronts diminishing their power, offered beacons of hope -- literal lighthouses in a storm of a year -- and led you uptown like a trail of breadcrumbs.

You pulled him this way and that way, weaving through side streets to look at any display that looked bright enough from a distance, fingers locked tightly with his in a way they never were outside of the house. As bittersweet as it was no one was out, it afforded you a level of privacy you never had, anywhere. Not even Holmes Chapel. You couldn’t remember a time where you’d ever held his hand for this long at one time, if you were honest, and while you didn’t need it, you enjoyed the option.

In between zigs and zags, he mumbled stories to you about this time, and another time, and a time after that, pointing at buildings, venues, restaurants, and hotels, and you listened half in awe and half in earnest. It was a whole other life he’d lived without you before, and you’d only been aware of the surface of it. Nobody knew what he was telling you except the people he’d lived it with, and you didn’t think you’d ever get over or be able to thank him for trusting you to be someone he chose to share it with.

“I love Sixth,” you said, sighing as you walked past giant red Christmas ornaments three times the size of you both, the reflection of the string lights wrapped around tree branches bouncing off their shiny surfaces. Radio City’s electric red script beamed at you both from a distance, and traffic lights winked and waved in the wind up and down the avenue. “They do a lot with it.”

“It’s pretty,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Tree’s this way, isn’t it?” he asked.

You raised your eyebrows. “Yeah,” you said.

He jerked his head and you blinked.

“You want to?” you asked.

“Just a bit,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“There’s people!” you warned him, because even from here you could see the trickle of people with the same thought. “And I saw online they have a schedule--”

“We don’t have to get close,” he said, pulling you firmly. “S’big enough we don’t need to, just wanna take a peek.”

He was so certain, but you were less so, because all you needed was someone to see him to break the serene bubble you’d blown around yourselves. Despite that, you shuffled with him until the tree was visible, a bright, glowing ball of multi-colored lights stretching towards the sky. “Wow,” you whispered under your breath.

“S’nice,” he said and you nodded your agreement. It was nice -- despite the sad press it had gotten, the tree had turned out very nice at the end of it all, tall and impossibly beating all odds. What a metaphor for the year.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, squeezing him around the middle.

“Come here,” Harry said next to your ear.

“Hmm?” Reluctantly tearing your eyes from the tree, you gasped when he pulled your mask down first and then his own in two swift tugs, revealing a cheeky grin with a face cradled by the fabric. “What are you doing?” you asked, eyes darting around.

“Getting a kiss by the tree with my girlfriend,” he said. “Now, come here,” he repeated. This time, you obliged and allowed him to steal one, two, three kisses, each one of them smashed against your lips with a palpable sort of eagerness that made you think he would drink you if he could. This felt… normal. Normal, safe, and free.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like that.

When you broke and burrowed against his neck, he covered the back of your head and wrapped his other arm around your back, cocooning you in the shell of the most protective embrace he could give. Just a man -- any man, a regular man -- holding the person he loved, and, after his decision to stay with you through Christmas and New Years, he arguably loved you most.

Through the thick knit of your beanie, you felt him kissing your head, and you nuzzled into his scarf. “Thank you,” you said, face safely out of sight. “For coming here.”

“Not mad a’me for it?” he mumbled and you shook your head. “‘Kay, good.”

Shivering, you huddled closer and he tightened his arms, shielding you from the brisk wind.

“People will see,” you said, but despite that you held him closer.

“Who cares?”

He did, despite his quiet rasp. He did, and you knew why he did, but right then, you could pretend that it didn’t matter at all.

***

It was simultaneously the longest and shortest week of your life.

The longest, because time didn’t exist, much like it hadn’t for most of the year. Days, afternoons, evenings, and nights blended together, blurred by a happy holiday haze onset by too much of everything good -- sleep, sustenance, and spirits. The weird, if nice, part of all the extra time was having the chance to do things you’d enjoyed over the course of the year all over again. Nine times out of ten, when the two of you were together, it was rushed even on the long layovers. You’d watch one series or a film the whole way through, and next time you’d have to be on to the next one you’d agreed to hold off on until the other was there, but after having spent most of the year under the same roof, the typical race to the next one was paused. Instead, you settled in for old Christmas films and other ones you hadn’t seen since you first started properly dating, lending a timeless sort of quality to the week.

The shortest, because he’d only just gotten there. How had it been three weeks since he’d walked in the front door with a mask on and a warning? Three weeks, two of them masked, and now it was over and done. The whole year was over and done, with 2020 coming to a slow close after feeling simultaneously like it never would and like it was moving much, much too fast. Who would’ve known this would be how it would turn out after kicking it off in the back of his car with a paper plate full of snacks and the countdown on his phone? You’d made it through another year, together.

“Do you know what I just realized?” you asked as you unpacked the bag from El Diablito at the kitchen counter. In the background, the low hum of commentators on the TV remarking about how different this year was provided a steady buzz amidst familiar scenery of lights in different cities. Berlin had gone first, then London, and now, gradually, the new year on the east coast was gliding ever closer.

“What?” he asked over the noise of him unfurling the bag of tortilla chips.

“This was our first year together,” you said. “Full--” you drew an arc through the air-- “year, I mean. Saying it and all that.”

He didn’t say anything, but when you looked at him the corner of his mouth was lifted up slightly. “S’pose it is, yeah. Feels like longer.” He fished a chip out with his index and middle fingers before crunching into it noisily.

“Almost three years of everything else,” you murmured, unwrapping a taco to inspect it. “This one’s yours.”

“‘Everything else’?” he teased, snickering when you slid the taco across the counter to him. “Watch it, it’ll fall apart….”

“Shut up and eat,” you said and he barked a laugh, grin permanent and eyes sparkling as he unwrapped it to peek.

“In a minute,” he said, setting down his food, satisfied it looked right. “Come here,” he said.

“Why?” you asked, smiling slightly though you eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want?”

He motioned with his hand. “C’mere a minute,” he repeated, voice light but eyes tight, and he swallowed hard. A cold wave washed down you from head to toe. You didn’t know why you were suddenly so nervous, but the nerves themselves spiked your anxiety and made your scalp prickly and your palms sweaty, and they got worse when he grabbed one of your hands -- your left hand -- to hold between his. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about summat.”

Oh, God.

“Harry,” you said, but he shook his head.

“Lemme do this.”

Five seconds. Five seconds was all it took to imagine the words coming out of his mouth, quietly, with soft, trusting eyes waiting patiently, hopefully for an answer. Five seconds was all it took for you to imagine mucking it all up with a twisted tongue, not because you weren’t sure what to say, but how to say it. No, no, no -- you didn’t want to hurt him, not even temporarily, not even by accident.

Clearing his throat, he squeezed your hand. “I dunno how to do this,” he said, and for the first time ever, you were pretty sure he laughed without his eyes. You made a noise in your throat and curled your fingertips into his palm. “I love you,” he continued, Adam’s apple bobbing, lips trying and failing to form a smile. He was terrified, but determined, and you held his hand tighter while pressing your opposite one into his cheek.

I love you, too. You couldn’t say it, but you felt them swelling in your chest, growing your heart not two, not even three, but six times over.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, “M’going to spend the rest of my life with you,” with a thoughtful quality in his rasp. “I think, if-- if that’s somethin’ you….”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t, you were trying, but it was like sucking in helium.

“So, m’kind of wondering if--”

“Harry--”

“I’m not,” he shook his head. “I’m not asking you anything right now, because we’re not ready.” He rubbed the back of your hand assuringly. “We’re not ready, you have… and I’m….” He exhaled sharply, dropping his head, and your hand moved from his cheek to his hair and you rubbed the back of his neck. “I just want to know,” he said, breathing heavily, with his voice muffled into his chest, talking very fast, barreling through and tripping over words, “if I’m totally off base here. Cause m’not gonna now when there’s so much shit happening, but like… I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth when-- if I do, so if I could just get an idea of what you think, because we had a talk once but now every time you cut me off at the knees and--”

He sputtered, stopping short, and you pressed your face into his short hair.

“I want it,” you said, sounding braver than you felt admitting wants out loud. “I do. I will.”

His shoulders fell with his slow, deep breaths, and you rubbed your fingertips into his scalp gently.

“I will,” you say. “Promise,” you added, voice cracking. “You’re not off base.”

Neither of you said anything for a while. You couldn’t -- you quite literally, physically couldn’t -- and he was gulping for air as quietly as he could.

“Okay,” he said into his chest finally, sounding inexplicably embarrassed. “S’good to know.”

Silly, silly man. Did he really think… did he doubt…? “I love you,” you murmured.

“I know,” he said. “I know y’do.”

“No, you don’t.” You kissed his head. “I love you, I-- you’ll never know.”

Harry took a deep breath before straightening up, head high and curls falling over his forehead above the weariest, most agonized eyes you’d ever seen. His cheeks were bright red, and he might as well have just run a marathon for how spent and miserable he looked.

“I promise,” you repeated. “I promise, honey.”

He nodded slightly, mouth still set in a thin, grim line, and, instinctively, you stepped in to kiss him, because no. No, that wouldn’t do. Stiff and unmoving at first under your lips, gradually he warmed and softened, releasing your hand to grab your hips and you moaned softly, hands running across his shoulders over his hoodie. You promised -- when it was right, when you both could, if he asked and it was what you both wanted? There was only one answer you’d ever give.

The stool scraped against the floor when he stood, but he never broke the kiss, and you squeaked when you stumbled back against the counter. You opened your mouth wider when he coaxed you to, dizzy behind your closed eyes, and you let your hands wander freely, pulling him into you as the intensity behind the kiss escalated from comfort to need.

Two weeks. Two weeks -- three -- of pent up energy. Of hardly being able to touch each other, of being close but not close enough.

“Come here,” he demanded in a mumble, the firm hold he had on your jaw to hold you in place as he kissed you the way he wanted leaving you breathless. Rarely did he ever do that; usually, he guided you into what you both wanted to build it until the bubble of tension popped. There was something thrilling about being told though -- something that reminded you of when you were new, three months instead of almost three years in. Something that was like when time was limited and you had to be efficient to learn each other and what would feel good and do good for the other and yourselves, and telling was sometimes all you had.

Harry broke away with a wounded little noise and you blinked, dazed. “M’just….” He grabbed two tacos with one hand and threw them back into the paper bag. “M’moving these.” Tacos, nachos, and burritos all went back in, topped off with the chips, and he shoved them aside with some impatience. You laughed breathily and lifted yourself up onto the counter with his help, but it faded when he stepped between your legs and cupped your cheek and jaw and you caught a glimpse of the blown pupils and flushed cheeks that gave him a wild, primal look before your own eyes shut.

Each and every tender sponging of his lips across your jaw and down your neck made you ache, and it was all you could do to stay upright and not collapse back, limp from how weak you were. His needy, mesmerized groans made your belly tighten, and when he tugged the hem of your shirt you nodded.

Shirt, sweatshirt, bra, and undershirt were the first to go, and the straps had no sooner fallen down your shoulders than you let out a wordless, guttural shout from deep in your chest when Harry latched on and sucked your nipple with greedy enthusiasm, moving with you when you squirmed, his stubble scraping the soft skin of your breast.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes watering and elbow nearly buckling underneath you in your effort to hold yourself up. “Yes, please,” you said when he pulled the strings on your sweats.

“That’s my girl,” he said, releasing with a pop and latching on again. “That’s my girl… gonna make it better for you.” He stood tall again when he pulled by the waistline, and you wriggled until they were at your knees and you could kick them off the rest of the way with your underwear as he dropped his own to his ankles.

With nothing left between you, you shivered, shrinking into him when he stepped closer and drew his hands around your body in a circuit. Legs first, stomach, back, breasts, shoulders, arms, and repeat, each squeeze and dig of his hands and fingers just a little restrained and not as zealous as his groans and heavy breathing made him out to be -- like he was trying to be good, or patient, or….

“It’s ok,” you murmured between kisses. “You don’t have to wait.” They’d done the waiting -- more than enough of it. You just wanted him now.

“Sure?” Harry rasped and you nodded, eyes rolling up when he slipped his fingers between you both and they slipped up and down your folds. “Sure,” he confirmed under his breath. “Open a little more for me, love-- there we are, thank you.”

You folded your arms around his neck and over his back and locked your ankles loosely just under his ass, heart racing in your chest.

“Breathe in--” Harry murmured and you squeezed your eyes shut when he fit his head against your entrance. It slid and you laughed, kissing his jaw when he kissed your brow through his grin. “Deep breath for me.”

Every time. He did that almost every time with you, first asking for a deep breath and then, invariably, pulling a long exhale from you when he thrust into your warm, wet cunt. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered in awe, holding still. You could feel the tremors pulling each fiber in his muscles, and when he throbbed inside you, you bit your lip. “Holy shit, you’ve got me good,” he groaned.

You laughed once. “Yeah.” Yeah, something like that. Wincing, you rolled your hips forward and gasped softly from the stretch before tightening your arms and pressing your face against his hot skin. You nuzzled in between your own slow, lingering kisses, taking deep, grounding breaths. He was soft, and smooth, but firm, and hard, and he smelled amazing. Clean -- all soap and cologne with some detergent that smelled even more from the warmth of his skin.

“Oh, God,” you whispered. “Oh, God, I--” You sucked in a harsh breath, abdomen tightening as you pulsed around him, feeling wetter, and you moved your face higher, nose pressed into the base of his sheared hair as you moaned quietly. “Oh my God, I love you.” Pitchy, bordering on hysteria, but you’d be hard pressed to remember a time you felt it as much as you meant it like you did right then. “I love you, I love-- I-- you feel--” Good. Better than good. No one had ever fit like he had -- too much, but just enough, physically, mentally, emotionally.

“I love….” Harry gulped. “Shit, ok, m’gonna….” He made to pull his shoulders back, but you shook your head.

“No, no, stay,” you begged, wrapping your arms and legs tighter. “Stay, please,” you murmured.

“I can’t-- ok,” he panted. “Lemme….” He gripped your ass and pulled you closer and your back arched as you opened your thighs just a little more. “There we go,” he grunted, hips snapping forward as he finally moved. “That’s… fuck, that’s better now.”

You could hear the effort you could feel between your legs -- each sharp pull of breath between his teeth, each muted grunt between his driving thrusts, and the pants he let out when he had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. “M’ok,” he said every time between labored gulps for air. “M’good, I just need to--” and he grit his teeth before he began again, and again, you gasped and whimpered, shrinking closer to him.

You didn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, now or ever. You didn’t want to be this close to anyone else again ever. This was never supposed to happen. He was never supposed to meet you, know you, fall in love with you, nor you with him, but now he had, and you were, and you couldn’t imagine it any other way. You couldn’t imagine a world in which he didn’t come home to you, for you, and where you weren’t there. Not waiting -- never waiting on a man, any man, but ready for him when he returned and ready to move forward together.

He was yours. He was yours, and you were his, and the mere thought pulled something behind your belly button, making you groan.

“What?” he asked, kissing the side of your head. “What, darling, what?”

“I’m gonna cum,” you whispered and then whimpered, tightening your hold around his neck and in his hair. “Harry--” you choked, shuddering with your deep breaths.

“I know.” He grunted, thrusting with slightly more power. “Fuck! Tight little--”

“Don’t stop,” you begged. “Don’t stop, I’m close, I’m so-- I just need--” Faster and faster you rolled your hips against his, crying out against him when he wedged his thumb between you both to catch your clit, a stream of mumbled, “I’m gonna cum, you’re making me cum,” confessions hidden in his neck. Deep breaths. Long, slow, and deep, with your toes curling behind him until you were barely breathing in your efforts to concentrate, because you were right there. And then, you did cum, hard, convulsing and sucking in harshly as you trembled your way through whimpers of his name, immediately and thoroughly exhausted.

Both his arms locked around you, then, all but crushing you to his torso in his efforts to hold you up, and he thrust hard, fast, deep, getting the right rhythm and stroke he needed. Barely able to keep your eyes open, your mouth moved soundlessly around the demand -- request -- to cum. Cum, Harry, cum, baby, please. Wordlessly, he sputtered through a sharp exhale, and it was the only indication before you felt the hot, wet release accompanying his groans.

“Fuck,” he choked, one of his hands landing hard on the counter to prop both of you up. You laughed, eyes rolling up, and you held on tightly through his turn to shake.

“Happy New Year,” you said, still feeling a little punch-drunk from your orgasm.

He nodded. “H-Happy--” he gulped. “Happy New Year, darling.” His shoulders slumped. “Reckon this was the problem,” he said. “Should’ve fuckin’ rung the year in right last time, y’know?”

“Right,” you breathed even as you shook your head, not quite caught up with what he was saying.

“M’only sayin’,” he said. “We had sex the one time last Christmas. Should’ve had… a bit more,” he said indeterminately.

“We haven’t had sex since you’ve been home.”

Sighing heavily, he kissed your shoulder. “S’pose we’d better start,” he slurred. “S’not the new year yet.”

#harry x reader #reader insert fanfiction #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry imagine #harry styles blurb #harry blurb #harry styles one shot #harry one shot #christmas #blurred lines #blurred lines: adc #blurred lines: a different christmas #a different christmas #permanentcross #original writing

367 notes · View notes