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soleilceirinen · 4 months

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Please don't say you love me | young!Cillian Murphy x asexual!fem!Reader

Summary: on your graduation night, your best friend Cillian tells you that he likes you, but he doesn’t know that you are asexual. A/N: this fic is kind of personal, maybe not the typical Cillian x Reader that I usually write but I’m really proud of it. I hope someone likes it! As always, this story is set in an alternate universe in which Cillian is single and not an actor. I respect his private life and his lovely family. English is not my first language so there may be some mistakes, sorry! CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST

When you were a little girl, you used to play moms and dads with your classmates. That was it, a game. It meant nothing to any of you. You were just a bunch of little kids innocently imitating adults while playing with baby dolls.

As a teenager, everyone around you started dating and exploring their sexuality. Everyone except you. Whenever they asked you if you liked someone, you forced yourself to lie, saying that you were madly in love with the most popular boy in your class.

During that time you began to doubt your own sexual orientation. Maybe you didn't like any boy because you didn't like boys, as simple as that. But when you looked at the girls your reaction was the same, most of the time you felt nothing and other times you just appreciated their beauty. As with most paintings displayed in museums and art galleries, it was enough for you to admire them from the distance, never wanting to get closer and touch them.

It wasn't until you started university that reality hit you. Everywhere you looked, your friends had a boyfriend or girlfriend, if they didn't, they were looking for one. You hadn't thought much about it until your family started asking when you were going to introduce them to a boyfriend. Over time, the question was expanded to boyfriend or girlfriend, it didn't matter anymore.

You were almost nineteen years old when you had your first kiss. It made you feel nothing. Nothing at all except repulsion. When does this end? Is he enjoying it? We've been kissing for a long time... Should I close my eyes? These were some of the thoughts that flooded your head as you continued with the kiss. When it finally ended, you only felt relief.

At least you had made something clear: you liked to be liked. Flirting too. In general, you enjoyed the previous moment, when you were getting to know someone and you knew for sure that they were attracted to you. With the difference that you stopped there, not wanting to take things further. There was no need to do that.

Nevertheless, as you entered your twenties, more than once you had found yourself doing things which you would have liked to avoid. When you kissed someone, you tried to keep your mind away from the act that was being carried out, almost disassociating yourself from reality. You tried not to think about the amount of germs and bacteria that were passing from their mouth to yours. After that, you never spoke to them again because they always wanted more from you, and you weren't up for it. You didn't want to give it to them.

The simple act of being touched with the evident intention of taking you to bed made your stomach turn. You felt like grabbing a cheese grater and running it all over your skin until it was red and raw. Maybe that way the disgusting sensation you had would disappear.

One day you were assigned to a work group to carry out a uni project, that's where you met CIllian. He had always been in your class since you started your degree but you had never spoken before. He turned out to be a nice guy and you had a lot of things in common with him so before you knew it, you two had become best friends.

Cillian was funny and handsome, one could even say he was beautiful. He had the bluest eyes you had ever seen in your entire life and his voice made your insides melt. If someone asked you what Cillian meant to you, you would have described him as your soulmate. You could talk for hours without getting bored of each other, listen to him ramble about his favorite music or get philosophical theorizing about the meaning of life while looking at the stars.

Sometimes you thought that if things were different, maybe you could be together. Deep inside, you knew that Cillian was the one but just thinking about it made you want to cry.

The day you graduated was a turning point in your relationship. After the boring delivery of diplomas to each of the graduates and the even more boring speeches by some of your classmates, you were finally free. Your class had organised a party for all the students, the last one that all of you would attend, so that's where you went.

With your head about to burst and your feet bleeding where the strap of your heels rubbed them, you grabbed Cillian's arm and leaned into his ear. "I want to leave, I can't stand another second, my feet are killing me."

He looked down and frowned. "Take the shoes off."

"I'm not doing that, Cillian!" you complained, punching his shoulder. "I'm leaving".

"All right, whatever you say. Let's go!"

There was no need to talk to make the decision to go to your apartment. Your roommates had left already and you only had a couple of days left. All your belongings were packed, ready to move. Halfway there you gave up, sitting on a curb in the middle of an empty street and stretching your legs out in front of you. Cillian watched you from above.

He pouted, pointing at your heels. "It's a shame that they hurt you, as pretty as they are. Just like you."

His comment made your heart skip a beat. Please no. "To show off you have to suffer, or so they say, I think" you muttered, ignoring the last part.

"You shouldn't suffer, Y/N. Here, get on," he indicated, turning around until he was facing away from you and leaned over so you could get on his back.

With a sigh, you stood up and limped towards him, grabbing his shoulders. Then, you wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands held your thighs but unlike other times when different people had done the same thing, his touch didn't make you feel sick. Cillian was looking out for you, not trying to take advantage of the situation.

You weren't aware of how close your faces were before he turned his head and spoke. "Are you okay? You've gone really quiet all of a sudden."

"Yeah, don't worry. I'm just tired," you said softly, resting your chin on his shoulder and breathing in his scent.

Cillian carried you the rest of the way to your apartment, only setting you down so you could open the door. Once inside, you took off your heels and threw them into a corner of the room.

"Better?" Cillian asked with a chuckle.

"Oh, you have no idea. Are you hungry?"

You got to work and in a few minutes both of you were lying on the sofa eating a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches. You saw Cillian staring at you, so you lightly kicked him on the leg. "What are you looking at, silly?"

He looked down and shook his head slowly. "Earlier, when I said you were pretty, I meant it."

“Okay,” you said, swallowing another bite of your sandwich as you brought your legs closer to your body.

Cillian finished his sandwich and turned to you. His eyes shone with the reflection of the moonlight filtering through the open windows. His beauty was breathtaking. After a few seconds in silence, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss full of tenderness. It was as if his soft lips were able to caress your soul.

He pulled away, leaning back on the sofa and stared at the sandwich you were holding. You stretched your arm offering it to him and watched in silence as he ate.

“Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?”

Your eyes filled with tears. "Of course I would like to, but I don't think it's a good idea," you said, holding back a sob. "It wouldn't be fair, Cillian. To you, because I can't give you more..., I don't want you to get your hopes up and then break your heart."

He frowned, almost as if he was trying to read between lines. "We can try".

You shook your head, hesitating between telling him the truth or keeping it to yourself. The last time a guy proposed to you and you told him you were asexual, he disappeared. But before doing so, he suggested that if you ever changed your mind you should let him know, as if it were that simple.

"I'm not interested in sex," you finally whispered. "I think you should go on a date with someone different, not me."

Cillian ran a hand over his face, understanding your hesitation, and held your chin gently before wiping away your tears. "Do you know that not everything in life revolves around sex, right? We can go to the movies, to a concert, out to dinner... we can do whatever we want. Even if we just talk, that's enough for me."

"But I..."

He cut you off, pulling you into his chest and hugging you tightly. You clung to his shirt, resting your head against him so you could hear the rapid beat of his heart.

"What I like most about you is your intelligence," he stated, his voice soft, not louder than a whisper, "you don't know how lucky I am to be able to have such a lovely person with a mind like yours by my side. You're also kind and beautiful, don't think that you're not, but honestly I don't really care about that. Now, Y/N, do you want to go on a date with me?”

You were torn between saying yes and accepting the consequences or saying no and spending the rest of your life wondering what could have happened if you had said yes. The kiss you had shared minutes before felt different from others, it was a kiss just for the sake of it, as simple as it was, without any ulterior motives. You knew for a fact that even if you said no to Cillian, he would always come back to you as if nothing had happened and listen to you talk for hours about anything and everything.

He poked your sides, tickling you and making you laugh between sobs. "Stop, Cillian!"

He stopped, observing your face just centimeters away from his own. Now that you paid more attention, you noticed that his eyes were red and filled with tears too. With a sigh, you rested your hand on the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in the soft hair at his nape, and pulled him towards you. Cillian put no resistance, letting himself be dragged into the crook of your neck, where you held him as you stroked his hair.

"Okay, I'll go on a date with you. But please, I'm begging you, don't ever say you love me."

Cillian chuckled and you you felt the vibration of his vocal cords against your collarbone. "Don't worry about that."

"I'm serious. If you say it, be aware that I'm not going to say it back, like… never. So don't mess up, silly Cilli."

“You’re silly,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

“Not as much as you.”

Cillian hummed in agreement. "I suppose I'm a silly boy who loves you."

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x fem!reader #alternate universe #asexual!reader

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unluckyhoneybee · 2 years

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The Master Plan (Marcus Armstrong)

Mick and YN play matchmakers with two friends. Fluff.

Best friends to lovers Spin-off.

Note: Sorry if it took too long.

OC's name is Elia. It felt weird to use YN too. Everything is written in 3rd person. Sorry if it took too long to write it. I hope you like it! REQUESTED.

When Mick and YN planned everything.

"Elia broke up with her boyfriend."

"Oh. I'm sorry for her, but that guy was a prick"

YN looked at Mick.

"She really deserves so much better" They were on their way back home after going to have dinner with YN's friends.

"Well, she will meet someone."

"She always has the worst luck. Do you remember Joe?"

"Yeah, the guy who cheated on her in high school"

"Yes." YN stopped to think for a few seconds, making Mick turn to her. That meant no good. "Mick, I will trust you with your life. You have a bunch of friends and you trust them. I really believe you have a good taste in choosing friends and I'm sure they are all super good guys."

"You want to get Elia together with one of my friends, right?"

"Oh, and you are super clever too, Mickey. Yeah, basically".

"I'm perfect right? I'm thinking... Isn't she studying cuisine?"

"Yeah"

"Well, we are lucky Marcus is an expert and food critic"

"Mick! It's perfect!"

"So. Your birthday party?"

"Fuck yes"

First try: The birthday party.

Elia had been for a while at the party. Some of her old school friends were there. Also some of YN's new friends from uni and Mick's friends from work. She had never been a person of social events. She loved staying at home and watching some films. But YN was one of her best friends and she couldn't not come to her birthday.

She was actually standing in the kitchen, looking for some plates on the cupboards.

"Hey, Mick told me to come and help you" Elia heard a voice behind her and the plates almost fall to the ground. The guy was lucky fast enough to grab them.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He said with a soft smile. "I'm Marcus, by the way"

"Um. I'm Elia. It's okay. I was lost in my head" She smiled and Marcus felt his heart quickening. She was beautiful.

"Ah, you are that Elia!"

Marcus took the plates from her hands and she looked at him confused. "I have dinner with YN and Mick the other day and they didn't stop talking about you"

Elia blushed so hard. Her cheeks were burning and she couldn't even look at his eyes. The plates on Marcus' hands were suddenly so interesting.

"Did they?"

"Mhm. They told me about your degree."

"Oh, it's not really a degree. I'm taking courses here and there."

Marcus smiled a bit. She didn't seem to want to talk.

On the other hand, Elia wanted the earth to swallow her. Why the fuck had YN told this guy about her? He was cute and all of that and she perfectly knew how bad she was with cute guys.

"D...do you drive too?"

Marcus almost gasped when she asked. He wasn't expecting that.

"Yeah, I'm in F2."

"I don't see the races. Not even Mick's. "

Marcus lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

"It's okay" He said smiling. It really was.

Elia felt like running away and disappearing. She had probably sounded so rude.

"I will take this to the table" She took the plates from Marcus' hands and left the kitchen.

He tried to talk to her after YN blew the candles. But Elia had already left.

Second try: the ride home.

YN and Mick had just left. They had called Mick from the factory, something important, he said.

That left Marcus and Elia with Arthur Leclerc and Callum Illiot.

Marcus was looking at the girl in front of him. She seemed uncomfortable. She was looking at the plate in front of her, observing it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. He wasn't sure why YN had invited her, Elia clearly didn't want to be there. Now that she was alone with three unknown guys even more.

Elia was feeling his eyes on her. She had been thinking a while about them. For days actually.

"Do you want to come and have dinner with Mick and some of his friends?" YN asked her.

She looked up.

"Friends?"

"Callum, Arthur and Marcus."

"Arthur and Callum?"

"Leclerc and Iliott"

Elia nodded. She didn't know them.

"I know it's not your thing but I can promise you will be okay"

And she has just left her there. Elia couldn't drive, she had come with Mick and YN, so she would need a taxi. She didn't know these guys, but she didn't want to make them feel bad by leaving.

She felt a tap on her foot and looked up.

"Are you okay?"

Marcus had leant a bit over the table and spoke softly. His friends were too preoccupied with the game on TV.

Elia stuttered a bit with her words. She felt her throat dry. She didn't know Marcus, but his blue eyes and cute smile had made some impact on her. Also, she had been thinking about how rude she had been to him at the party. She shouldn't have come.

"I'm good. Yes."

"YN told me to make sure you arrive safely at home.

Elia gasped. YN had a weird obsession with Marcus and she didn't like it.

"Um. You don't need to. I will call a taxi"

"You are leaving?" Arthur asked turning to her. She blushed hard.

"No, not yet. But soon"

Marcus smiled a bit. He wanted to pull his chair next to hers and talk the whole night.

"Oh good. We are going to leave soon, right Callum?"

What Elia and Marcus didn't know was that the other two guys had orders to leave them alone as soon as possible.

Elia swallowed and Marcus sensed her nerves. She was shy, she always spoke in a low voice and preferred to listen. But when she was with YN she had a cute smile and laughed at the jokes her friend did.

The match the guys were watching came to an end and they got up.

"Okay, let's pay and leave. I'm exhausted." Callum said.

"I'm going to call a taxi"

Marcus heard her muttering right after she left her part of the bill on the table.

"By guys, it has been nice to meet you" She said and got up. She left almost running, the jean jacket she was wearing, long forgotten on the chair.

Marcus was quick to follow her jacket in hand.

"YN!" He caught her outside. "You jacket. And... I have to take you home"

"You don't need to, Marcus" Now that they were alone, her voice sounded more confident.

"I want to. I promised it to YN" He smiled and she blushed. He really had a beautiful smile. "Please, I don't want her to hate me. I'm not that bad. I will stay the whole time in silence if you want."

Elia felt her heart flutter. He was really sweet.

"You don't need to stay in silence."

"That means that I can take you home?"

She nodded with a smile on her face.

When they got into the car, her hands were shaking. She didn't want to say something stupid again. She tried to stay silent, but it was worst.

"It's not really my thing. Going out and all of that" She said.

Elia had that stupid habit of telling strangers too much about her life.

"OH. It's completely fine." He started the car and Elia told him were to go. "How long do you know YN?"

"Em... We went together to high school"

"Oh wow. That's a lot"

"Yeah."

Elia was still too shy to look at him so her eyes were on her hands as she gently played with her rings.

"So you've known Mick for a while too, right?"

"Yeah, he was always at her birthdays. He is a really nice guy. I think I always knew they would end up together."

"Yeah, I remember when I was in Prema with Mick. He always talked about her and she came to visit him a lot. We always joked about it."

"That they were in love?"

Elia looked at Marcus and he shoot her a quick glance, happy to see her more relaxed.

"Yeah. They were so... sappy all the time"

"And the we are only best friends..." Elia laughed remembering the number of times her friend had said those words.

"You too?"

"Yes. I mean, if your friend looks at a cute blondie with heart eyes you have to joke about it"

Marcus laughed.

"I suppose, yes"

They were both smiling.

"I'm actually really happy for them" She said and press the window button. The glass rolled down and the wind hit her face. "They are wonderful people and they deserve someone who loves them"

Elia felt his chest tightening. Recently she had felt envious of Mick and YN's relationship because it seemed to be so perfect. No perfect in a we don't fight way, more like in a we love and respect each other way. It was something she had never had. She was still young and she knew that there were a lot of people out there to meet and build a life with. But she was longing for it. She wanted a partner to be happy with.

Marcus felt her mood swift. He almost could see a rainy cloud sitting above her. He knew she was single. Mick had told him. He said that Elia didn't have the best of luck with guys and she had broken up with some asshole a couple of months ago. And having listened to the tone of her voice, he knew that she was still feeling the effects of that breakup.

He didn't know how to help her, he was also single and his last relationship was a while ago. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her that it would be okay. But he couldn't. He kept his mouth shut.

"Do you have someone, Marcus?" She said in a low voice.

"No. I have been single for a while"

"And... Are you ok with it?"

Even sounding shy and reserved, Elia was showing the most curious side of her. Marcus had learned so much more about her in a few minutes than in the whole dinner.

"Yes. I think so" Marcus answered. He hadn't thought about meeting anyone for a while. He enjoyed being single. But now with her on his car, he was feeling funny thing on his stomach.

"I... I'm going to therapy"

He looked at her. Elia had reach the point of not coming back. She was so nervous she couldn't stop speaking.

"Because I didn't know how to be single. I always wanted to be in a relationship because in my head being single was bad. But I'm learning that it's okay"

Marcus nodded.

"It's okay, yeah."

He felt a weird thing on his chest. He liked her. It was obvious by the way she make him feel. But if she had a bad relationship and now wanted to stay single, he would respect that.

"I know. It's just difficult to get used to it" Elia smiled a bit and looked at him.

He smiled too.

"It will get better"

"I know."

Elia singned her building and Marcus parked in front of it.

"Thank you for the lift."

"I was nothing."

"It was good to talk to you" Elia blushed when she looked at him.

"Yeah. You are really nice"

"I wanted to say sorry for what I said on the party"

Marcus look at her. What had she said? He didn't remember.

"That I don't see yours or Mick's races"

"Oh!" Marcus laughed a bit. "Don't worry about that, really. It's not important."

"It's your job"

"Yeah, but I didn't get angry or something."

"No?" It was Elia's moment to be confused.

"No. I mean, I like when people watch my races. But we didn't know each other then. It was the first time I had seen you"

Elia let out a breath she didn't knew she was keeping. She felt so much better now.

"Wow. I... I was really worried. I thought I had offended you"

"No, it's okay"

They stayed in silence for a while.

"I think I'm gonna leave."

"Okay" Marcus answered softly.

She had felt so comfortable with him that it was difficult to open the door and leave the car.

"Good night, Marcus."

"Good night, Elia"

Both of them went to bed that night with a smile on their faces.

Third and last try: the chef.

Elia was nervous. She had talked to YN and Mick and they wanted to meet one afternoon. It had been weeks since the last time they had seen each other. Elia proposed to meet at her flat and bake something. They both agreed, saying they would bring films to watch after. And also a friend. They said that Marcus was free that day and he was in town.

Marcus was coming to her house. He was going to see her space. Maybe for other people, it was stupid, but it was huge for her.

Since the last time they have seen each other, she had that feeling in her stomach. She knew what it meant and for once she wasn't scared. She even talked with her therapist about it.

Marcus on the other side what hyper excited. He was like a kid when Mick told him to come with them. He was a bit suspicious. YN and Mick had insisted a lot. They wanted YN and Marcus to get to know each other. And he had started to think that they were trying to get the two together.

When he arrived at the apartment, he knocked softly. He hadn't seen Mick's car at the entrance, so he supposed he was the first one. He smiled when Elia opened the door. She was dressed in a hoodie and shorts and she looked so pretty.

"Hi! I brought the flour YN told me"

"Oatmeal?"

Marcus nodded and she let him in. The flat was small, probably a one-bedroom apartment, but it was full of books, pictures and plants. There was one sofa around a TV and a table in a corner. He almost didn't know her, but the apparent had the same aura as Elia, it was clearly her home.

"I didn't say hi. Hi, Marcus. Come here. The kitchen is over here"

She was once again stumbling on her words. Marcus was starting to believe that it was a nervous thing for her.

The kitchen was probably the tidiest place he had ever seen. There were spice bottles everywhere, all with tags and classified. There were pots for probably every single use you can give them.

"This is my sanctuary." She said with a tiny smile.

Everything was ready for their baking session, she was really excited and wanted everything to go perfectly. Cooking and baking was her passion and she loved when her friends wanted to get involved.

"I see. Do you really use all of this?" Marcus said with a smile.

"Do you use all the buttons on your steering wheel?"

He looked at her with a surprised expression and she blushed. She had watched the two races that had taken place since the last time they saw each other, but nobody knew.

"How-?"

"I watched your races" She said stumbling on her words.

Marcus felt his stomach twist.

"Did you?"

"Yeah, well done" She gently touched his arm as she moved to the fridge.

Her phone rang there, a message.

YN: Els, don't kill me. Mick's car is not starting. We won't make it.

She felt a rush over her body. YN and Mick wouldn't come. She would have to spend the afternoon with Marcus alone because obviously, she couldn't tell him to leave.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"YN and Mick can't come. They had a problem with the car"

The realisation hit him. He was right, they were doing this on purpose. He was Mick Schumacher, he obviously had another car, even a motorbike.

"Um. Marcus, do you mind if it's just us?" She said shyly. "It's okay if you don't, you can leave. Not that I'm telling you to. I just don't want to feel that to have to stay..."

He smiled.

"I want to stay if you want me to"

She looked at him and blushed. She was nervous as hell, but she wanted him here.

Soon, they were both in process of making red velvet cupcakes. She didn't expect to have so much fun with Marcus. He was taking pics, recording, taking notes, everything for his food account on Instagram.

"So you are like an expert" Elia said

"Yeah. I go to places, eat their food and then give them my unwanted opinion"

She laughed and put the cupcakes in the oven.

"So today you had a different perspective."

"Yes. A new experience."

"Hope you enjoyed it. And I hope the cupcakes turn out well too. It would be a pity"

"I'm sure they would"

He walked closer to the window and looked at the street.

Marcus looked really good today. His hair was messy but perfect at the same time. It looked soft. The t-shirt he was wearing fitted him perfectly and showed his shape. He was a sight to be seen.

"You have a good view here"

She blushed hard because she was thinking in a completely different view.

"Yes" She muttered.

"Do you want to know something I discovered?"

Elia nodded and walked to him.

"I think YN and Mick are trying to get us together."

Elia gasped and Marcus looked down at her. Her eyes were super opened and her mouth was agape.

"W...why?"

Marcus shrugged. "A feeling I have. They keep talking about you, inviting me to come and see you, leaving us alone"

Everything clicked in her head.

"They do..."

Both of them looked at each other. Was it that bad? Elia was clearly comfortable around him, she had enjoyed the afternoon and was really happy to have him here. She had been thinking nonstop about his cute smile and blue eyes. She had even seen his races when she didn't even like cars.

And Marcus was completely smitten by the shy and awkward girl. He couldn't stop smiling when he was with her. He just wanted to hug her for hours and kiss her whole face. He hadn't felt like that before.

For Elia, Marcus felt like a new beginning, the promise of happiness and something better. For Marcus, Elia was something new, someone to learn and grow with.

"What do you think about it?" Marcus asked carefully. He didn't want to scare her. He still remembered what she had told him in his car.

Elia took a deep breath. She felt ready for this. She wanted it. She wasn't scared of being hurt because she could see how different Marcus was.

"I think it worked." She said in a low voice but looking into his eyes.

He smiled and laughed happily, making her chuckle a bit.

"I think it worked too"

Slowly, Elia touched Marcus' fingers. She felt brave. The guy in front of her liked her. He slide his much longer fingers between hers and she looked down.

"I think I like you" He said in a whisper.

"I think I like you too"

"Even if this is the third time we see each other?"

She nodded.

He pulled her hand a bit to bring her closer and cup her chin with his other.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I die for you to kiss me" She muttered.

He closed the gap, giving her the sweetest kiss ever. Their lips moved in synchrony and slowly and their tongues shyly played with each other.

But they were interrupted by the oven's bell-ringing loud.

They broke apart with a smile. Any of them needed to say anything. It was the right thing.

And when, a few minutes before, they were eating the red and sweet cupcakes, Marcus touched her leg.

"Would you like to go on a date with me? Without YN and Mick interfering with it"

She smiled and nodded, sitting closer to him on

the sofa and giving him a kiss on the lips.

"I would love to"

@.screamingmeals: this afternoon I became the chef. Perfect fluffiness, perfect texture, even more perfect taste, marvellous cheese cream, perfect shape. Had the best teacher. Thank you for the masterclass @.cookwithelia. Can't wait for you to open your own restaurant. I will give you good reviews only. Food 10/10, chef 100/10

Pic link.

This will be a one-part thing. I hope you liked it.

#marcus armstrong #ma #f2 fic #f2 #fluff #fic #mick schumacher #Best friends to lovers: spin-off #f1

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the-fiction-witch · 2 years

Text

The ultimate cozy

Media irl

Character Isaac Hempstead Wright

Couple ihw X Reader

Rating sweet af

Concept cosy night after a bad day

I did my best to keep my composure after the madness that was today, paperwork got damaged, my boss got mad, the clients left, and I hadn't even been paid for my time again. Didn't help the world outside was a harsh dark grey, swapping between different degrees of raining, the wind battering everything it could whistling thought you and turning you inside out, and of course making it no condition to use an umbrella to protect from the rains. And just as a cherry on the cupcake of this day the trains are delayed due to striking action. I felt my phone go off so I glanced to it seeing the message

Isaac X:

Hey buttercup, just checking what time your going to be home? He's not making you stay late again he?

I smiled a little he's such a sweetie, I told him everything that had happened today and the estimated time I would be home and he quickly messaged back

Isaac X:

Ohh my poor little buttercup, it's okay I'll be here waiting for you to get home xxx

I giggled a little a returned my phone to my pocket as at last I reached my stop so I rushed of onto the platform trying my best just to get home after this long day, and just as I got outside the rain got worse drenching me, I did try to use my umbrella but one gust to many and it broke in about seven places. So I just did my best to get home as quickly as possible.

My clothes and hair soaked my feel drenched in my shoes where I couldn't avoid puddles as none of the drains where actually draining, the wind battering me from all angles like being in one of those round wind tunnels crazy people indoor skydive in.

Finally I saw home so I unlocked the door and headed in kicking off my shoes into the porch and dropping my bag their too

"That you buttercup?" Isaac called from the kitchen

"No! I'm a burglar" I joked

"Ohh sorry Mr burglar, nothing of value here just lots of old uni textbooks and magic the gathering cards" he laughed as he came through drying his hands off where he clearly just did the dishes "hello buttercup" he smiled giving my cheek a kiss "uhhh did you get jumped... By nature?" He asks picking out a twig that had somehow ended up in my hair from the weather

"I feel like I did" I sighed

"Awwwww you've had a rough day haven't you?" He asks and I nod "okay, did you want to get cosy?"

"That sounds nice"

"Then I shall built the ultimate cosy for my lovely lady" he smiled "my hoodie and sweatpants are in the tumble dryer they should be good and toasty by now"

"Did you want them?"

"No silly I meant for you, go on warm your little buttercup bum up" he smiled

I giggled and headed to the kitchen seeing all the chores had already been done so I smiled stopping the tumble I threw my clothes in the laundry basket and slipped on his warm hoodie and sweatpants them immediately smelling of the sweet fabric softener,

I headed out again in an attempt to find him and immediately found the living room.

The log burner on sweetly warming the house up, the curtians and blinds drawn to keep out the dark rain, the lights on low meerly the fairy lights above the mantle and the log burner itself to light the room, the sofa had our duvet as well as some fluffy blankets set up ready to recline some snacks on the table as well as a warm tea in my favourite mug he smiled seeing me there as he had a towel in hand

"Here you go, to dry your pretty hair" he smiled wrapping it around my shoulders for me "don't want you to catch a cold" he says kissing my nose "ohh such a cold little nose!" He said in shock "I'll warm it up" he smiled giving my nose even more kisses "come on before my little buttercup freezers" he laughed tugging me to the sofa so we got cosy with our blankets and duvet reclining the sofa as we had our tea he wrapped his arm around me Letting us cuddle together closely "you wanna watch crime documents?"

"Yes please" I smiled

"Okay, and no worries about dinner I'll order us delivery in a bit okay?"

"Your sure?"

"Of course I am, I know you've had a rough day I can't do much about your dumbass boss or the weather but I can do... Little things like this"

"Umm the little things make it all better Isaac"

"Yeah?"

"Umm" I nodded nuzzling close to him

"Good, I like making my buttercup happy. I love you very much" he Cooes

"I love you too Isaac" I smiled hugging him tightly

"Come in then crime shows, and we'll pick delivery in a little while" he smiled kissing my head and handing me the remote for the TV.

#issac imagine #isaac #isaac hempstead wright #isaac wright #isaac smut #isaachempsteadwright #isaachempsteadwrightimagine #isaachempstedwrightsmut #isaachempstedwirghtimagine #isaachempsteadwrightfic #isaac hempstead wright imagine #isaac hempstead wright smut #isaac wright smut

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mileapokp1677 · 2 years

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Three Steps to Win You (CH 17)

Title: Three Steps to Win You

Rating: M

Pairing: DaddyChan/Tankhun, Kinn/Porsche, Vegas/Pete

Category: M/M, AU Nerd-Jock

Summary: Accidentally, scientist Tankhun Theerapanyakul embarrassed footballer Captain Chan "Daddy" Knight in front of his coach, teammates and fans. He had to fulfill three tasks from the captain before his apology was accepted.

Chapter 17

(Tankhun POV)

Monday Morning

As usual, at 7.30 AM sharp, Tankhun was already in the queue line of the Hattrick to buy his favorite Americano. He decided to get a jumbo size coffee today, gods knew he needed it. There was too much stuff and drama that happened last weekend. Good thing he looked absolutely stunning today wearing the blue Ferragamo Navigator sunglasses, black classic Ferragamo combat boots and a navy/white mini spot ascot tie from Turnbull & Asser. His boring white shirt and skinny black pants for work, for sure, no longer looked plain.

Today was a slow day for the cafe, because it only took Tankhun less than 10 minutes from the time he started queuing until he could sip his first coffee of the day. His coffee, like always, was perfect and so was today's weather. For that, he felt so grateful.

Ah~ I feel so much better already

Call it a de ja vu but suddenly Tankhun felt the exact same way as he felt weeks ago when he met Chan for the first time here. As soon as he thought of something positive, things just took a 180 degree turn fast.

Click! Click!

Fuck, Anna Banana proved to be very efficient. Tankhun even willing to bet his new sunglasses that currently, there was one or more paparazzi behind him, ready to take pictures of him.

Well, Tankhun had been reading fashion magazines since he was 10 years old, and he knows exactly the best angles for his face and body. If that evil woman had meant to post an ugly photo of Tankhun, it would never have happened, for he would never have allowed it.

Bring it on!

Tankhun calculatedly turned his body 45 degrees to his right, showing off his perfect profile, he then opened his mouth a little, lifted his chin slightly, and put his long neck on display. Hold that pose...

Click! Click!

That’s a perfect Naomi... How about a Tyra now?

Now Tankhun, facing in the direction that he believed the paparazzi were hiding, pushed the navigator sunglasses over his head and left them there. He then dramatically took a sip of his hot coffee while both of his eyes staring intently at the front. Smizing now…

Click! Click!

Afterward, Tankhun slowly lowered his sunglasses so it perched perfectly on his nose again before turning his body 180 and walking catlike towards the university, with a satisfied smile on his lips. Once he entered the university area and was sure the paparazzi could no longer stalk him, Tankhun took his cellphone out of his bag and texted Chan.

[Tankhun T]

Your ex from hell is not wasting time. One or two papz following me from the Hattrick. I'm at the Uni now, and I think they're no longer following me, but who knows for sure, right?

Instead of replying to the text, Chan gave Tankhun a call, who picked it up immediately.

"Are you okay?" asked Chan, who sounded a bit worried, straight to the point.

"I'm fine. As a matter of fact, I’m super fine. You just wait until they post my pictures. I look so~ fabulous if I may say so myself."

Chan chuckled before responding, "I've no doubt. You always look great, baby."

“Chan! What do I say about-”

“Wait! Tankhun, hear me out first,” pleaded Chan. “I’m big on endearment, okay?”

“What?”

“Please bear it with me, but I always call my special one with an endearment and she knew all about it.”

Tankhun sighed. “Seriously!? So, no option but to do it?”

“Yes. So, please?” the captain pleaded again. “Please?"

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” said Tankhun. “But you only get to choose one, okay? And please no sugar or honey or DEAR, I hate them.”

“Thank you… baby?” replied Chan delicately. “How about it? I already called you baby twice in front of Anna.”

Baby?

Tankhun didn't know what had happened to him exactly, maybe he had gone mad, but his face suddenly felt a bit hot and… fuck, did he just blushing?

Tankhun Theerapanyakul get hold of yourself, you’re not a fucking teenager anymore, for God’s sake.

“Tankhun?”

“Y-yes?”

Tankhun closed his eyes. Damn it to hell! He never stammered, never.

“Is it acceptable?” asked Chan.

"What?"

"Baby, is it acceptable to call you that?" inquired Chan, making sure.

“Yes… Yes, it is,” affirmed Chan, with a steady voice.

“Do you think you can ask your boss for a longer lunch time today?”

“It can be arranged, but why?”

“I’m at the stadium near the Hattrick right now, for morning practice,” explained Chan. “Let’s have lunch together. If those papz are still around the Uni, let's give them what they want.”

“I’ll talk to her and update you about lunch.”

“Okay. I’ll wait.”

“Chan?”

“Hm?”

“I'm in front of the research center now, so I better go.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later, baby,” said Chan. “Be good for Daddy.”

“Ew~ Chan! What the fuck!” yelled Tankhun. “EW~~~”

Chan laughed like a maniac.

“Apart from that one time, when I asked for your autograph for Kim, I never called you Daddy ever again and I never will. You hear?” stated Tankhun firmly.

“You know what they all say, right, baby?”

“What?”

“Never say never,” said Chan. “Ciao, baby.”

“CHAN!”

But the call has been disconnected.

UGH! Damn that man!

Tankhun stomped his feet on the ground in annoyance, but at the same time his heart beat faster.

Oh, God…

******

(Chan POV)

BSFC Training Ground

Chan was still giggling as he put his phone in his personal locker. Even though the last two days had made his emotions go up and down like a roller coaster, today Chan was in a good mood. Of course when he got Tankhun's text earlier about the paparazzi he was a little worried, but those bastards indirectly have made it possible for him to have lunch with Tankhun. So he won't complain much.

“Was the one who just talked to you on the phone Doctor T, Cap?”

Pete, who apparently was behind him and suddenly asked a question, took Chan by surprise, but of course he recognized his co-captain's voice.

"You've been sneaking up behind me a lot lately, Pete,” accused Chan as he closed his locker.

"I didn't mean to do that, Cap. But lately you've been out of focus several times. Sometimes, you don't hear my footsteps or even my voice calling you," reasoned Pete.

Chan turned his body to face Pete and didn't know whether he liked the meaningful smile on the 25-year-old midfielder's face or not.

“What’s with that face?”

Pete softly laughed before responding, "Cap, I know it's none of my business, but the boys and I... we’re happy when you're happy. It's been a long time since we heard you laugh like you did on Saturday, or just now."

"Nosy."

"We think Doctor T is super cool!"

“You guys really like him?” asked Chan, testing the water.

“Yes!” declared Pete firmly. “So, it was him on the phone, right? You look happy, by the way.”

Chan just smiled and ruffled Pete's hair. "Let's start today’s training, my snooping co-captain!"

Pete laughed again.

"Yes, Sir!"

******

(Chan POV)

12.25 PM, the Research Center

“Hello there, I’m here to see Dr. Theerapanyakul,” said Chan to the Research Center receptionist, whose eyes were fixed on the computer screen in front of her.

“Do you have an appointment with him, Sir?” asked her as she finally raised her eyes to look at him. “Oh my GOD! DADDY CHAN!?”

“Hi,” greeted Chan again. “Could you please tell Dr. Theerapanyakul that I’m here?”

“Yes, of course, Sir!! Oh my God, Oh my God… I can’t believe this,” muttered the receptionist, looking so frantic. “Ah, I’m so sorry, Sir! I’m a huge fan of BSFC, it’s just shocking that you’re here! I had no idea that you and Dr. T…. Oh, never mind, I’ll inform him right away.”

“Wait, on a second thought… What's your name?” asked Chan.

“Sunny, Sir.”

“Could you do me a favor, Sunny?”

******

(Tankhun POV)

12.35 PM, the Research Center

“Professor Erica, if there's nothing else to discuss, may I return to my office? My date will arrive here any minute. He is very punctual,” requested Tankhun to his boss, the head of the Research Center.

Instead of answering his question, Professor Erica, all of a sudden, stood up from her chair with a super shocked face, and screamed, "Your date is the Captain of BSFC!?"

Tankhun, who was also in shock, immediately stood up and responded to the Professor, "How did you know, Professor!?"

Professor Erica just pointed at something behind Tankhun's body with her finger, before she shouted at her assistant, "Cookie, bring me a marker and a paper now… STAT!"

No, no... no way in hell…

Tankhun turned around quickly and sure enough Chan -- the bastard, who looked so bloody handsome in simple jeans and white t-shirt, was standing there. He was leaning against his boss's office door frame, in his hand he carried 3 white rose buds.

“Hi, baby,” greeted Chan with the biggest smile on his face, which at that moment, Tankhun wanted to scratch so badly.

"Baby?” shrieked Professor Erica. “Tankhun Theerapanyakun, how dare you hide this from me!? I thought we're friends!”

I’m so~ dead

TBC

AN: The phrase "Ciao, Baby" was inspired by Peter Knight aka Daddy Chan's ig story clip that he made to say goodbye to fans after KPTS finished airing. Those of you who have never seen the clip, you must see and hear for yourself, how sexy Daddy Chan's accent is when he says the word baby. faint

#daddy chan #tankhun theerapanyakul #chantankhun #au nerd jock #kpts fanfic #slow build #slow burn #kinnporsche #vegaspete #kim theerapanyakul #kpts boys #everybody is a footballer #team as family #fanfic #fake dating #kinnporsche la forte #kinnporsche the series

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avoidantrecovery · 2 years

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avpd success: beating my avoidance around libraries

many years ago, i had just enrolled into university the first time around, i went to a scientific library to read/borrow some books. as a student of a university i was entitled to go there, however it was not a public library, so you had to go through multiple checks before going in.

well, i arrived at the reception and was immediately dismissed. the middle aged white lady working there didn't even take the time to say hello, take a look at my ID or anything. she just waved me away like i was some kind of unwanted dust particle in there. and i, in a moment of panic, just turned around left in shame. i know i could have looked at her confused, or argued, showed her my id or something. but in the moment i thought, maybe i made a mistake, maybe i'm not allowed in after all even as a student. maybe this library is only for ~special people~. i thought, maybe she saw my skin color/appearance and immediately thought, no not you, you're surely not a student/researcher anyway. (looking back this is silly, because there are foreign black students here, many who come for higher degrees, so that on its own shouldn't have disqualified me. but my mind was not thinking, my mind was panicking and i was in full flight mode) i don't know why this moment of all burned itself into my mind, but it did. i was going through a lot at the time and i didn't have the capacity to argue with people. it was one of the straws that would finally break the camels back.

fast-forward to yesterday. the biggest university in the city i currently live in offers free library cards even to non-students. i'm enrolled at a smaller university, but the bigger uni has a much larger collection of books obviously. i had been planning to get and ID some months ago, but i won't lie the fear still came up. the idea of being sent away and rejected again was just too strong.

anyway, yesterday morning i found myself in front of the much smaller library branch for anthropology and african studies and chickened out. i just couldn't go in. but, and this is where i'm proud of myself, i thought i'll just go to the main library instead, it's larger and a bit more anonymous and in case of rejection it'll feel less personal perhaps. i could have just gone back home, but i felt i had come out all this way for nothing? anyway, made my way to the main library and everyone there was really nice. another middle aged white lady put me into the system, explained how everything worked and issued a card for me. without knowing, she sort of undid the damage that other lady did. i know it's not a zerosum kind of situation, ideally i wouldn't even have to deal with all this. but this is how i see it for now. i know i hyper focus on how people interact with me, but because that means safety for me. i hope to finally be able to dial that down a little and eventually live somewhere where my mind isn't preoccupied with that.

anyway, i even managed to borrow a super old book about my tribe i've been wanting to read for ages.

so, punched that fear right in the face! it's a small success, but better than nothing. and now i have two library ID's one for public and one for uni libraries. i feel drunk with power tbh haha

#avpd success #avpd ramblings #avpdrecovery #avpd mood #cptsd #racial trauma #small success hopefully add up to a big one

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gaiasdottir · 2 years

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Visiting the trauma den

I visited my parent's house today. Not because I wanted to see them, no, I thought I'd left my birth certificate and history degree there, and I kind of need them to churn through legal transition and job application stuff. I'd had a terrible morning, the first time in two weeks I hadn't seen the girl in the mirror, and was dissociating for the first time in like a month. I committed to going because if I was going to have a shitty day, it might as well be productive.

It was exactly as depressing as I expected it to be. My bedroom is like a living museum, with a paper mâché dragonfly I'd made in primary school hanging from the ceiling, right next to a high school term planner and a Game of Thrones poster I'd put up in my first year of uni. Everything is caked in dust, and most things are exactly where I'd left them when I moved out, even though my dad lives out of that room now.

Nothing about the room looks deliberate. I lived out of it for 25 years, but it is like I was never there. No items I value, no aesthetic preferences expressed, fuck, none of the documents there even have my actual name. It's a trauma den, a hollow I hid in whilst I busied about making myself small. I'd learned from a young age that expressions of my authentic self would earn critique. One of the first things I ever internalised was that having feminine preferences was totally out of line, never to be spoken of, which ruled out most self expression straight away. The one time I ever played music out loud earning a shout from my dad to "turn that shit off." My parents would routinely criticise tattoos or piercings or alt haircuts, so I was never about to express my preferences for goth stuff either. If I ever did or said anything that my parents didn't approve of, from a bad mark at school to having too many chocolates for dessert, I knew it would be related to family members in a ritual of humiliation, right in front of me. No, presenting a small target was the only option I had to survive. The only identity my parents would ever see in that room was the one they gave me, Good Student. That dragonfly has stood on guard since 2003 because in nearly 20 years I'd never found a safe way to express myself using that space. As I churned through dusty stacks of folders and files looking for what I came for, combing over a lifetime's worth of papers, I felt like a stranger. They were objectively mine, but I didn't recognise them, all filed under Mr Deadname as they were. I felt as distant from the person that lived in that room as I do strangers. I didn't find what I wanted, only existential dread. Only the sense that I had wasted 25 years of my life in between those four walls, almost invariably alone and wallowing in depression, unidentified gender dysphoria chaining me to my computer, the only place I could be someone approximating myself. I had no youthful misadventure, no wanderings about town with friends or inadvisable drinking, no girlfriends or questionable experimentations with drugs, no awkward phases that I could look back on with mixed nostalgia and regret, no youth, no living. I felt like every day I had spent in that room, every day before leaving home, was a waste of time. I left in disgust, the opportunity to hug my old man cat the visit's one saving grace. When I got home, I did what I always do when I have a particularly dysphoric day - I invested in myself. But my face is shaved, my hair as cute as it will get without growing longer. My arms and legs are bare of hair, my chest freshly plucked. An easy crutch, validation from men on Grindr, is no longer valuable to me either since I'm still deep in a sapphic panic. The easy victories that marked the early weeks of my transition are no longer available to me. No, fuck it, what's $280 in fees for a lifetime of freedom? I printed my Legal Name Change Request form and supporting documents, finding enough to cope without my birth certificate. Mr Deadname can have the room of existential dread and my past, but I have a life to live. The future is mine.

#transgender #dysphoria #existential dread #home #legal transition #trans woman #transition #trauma

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olko71 · 4 months

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New Post has been published on All about business online

New Post has been published on https://yaroreviews.info/2024/01/i-had-3000-stolen-via-whatsapp-job-scam-message

'I had £3,000 stolen via WhatsApp job scam message'

By Dan Whitworth

Money Box reporter, BBC Radio 4

When Bella Betterton fell victim to a recruitment scam and had £3,000 stolen, she felt “attacked” and “distraught”.

The 18-year-old had been contacted by scammers first via WhatsApp messages and then phone calls and thought she had taken part in a real job interview.

But the fraudsters tricked her card details out of her to steal the money.

New figures show the amount of money reported stolen via recruitment scam text and WhatsApp messages jumped from £20,000 to nearly £1m in the past year.

City of London Police say the number of people reporting these scams to Action Fraud increased more than eightfold.

But this may just be “the tip of the iceberg”, according to City of London Police Temporary Commander Oliver Shaw, as this type of fraud is “hugely underreported”.

Sophisticated scam

Recruitment scams involve criminals luring victims with the promise of extra work or income before conning them out of bank details or taking control of their phones to steal money.

Bella, from Devon, contacted Radio 4’s Money Box after she became a victim in October.

Bella Betterton

She is hoping to start a five-year biochemistry degree next year so has taken a gap year to try to save up £10,000 to be able to afford to start studying.

The £3,000 that was stolen was all the money she had managed to save up by working full-time over the summer.

“I’d just lost a job I’d had for three years and was trying to find my feet again to be able to keep saving for uni,” she says.

“I’d put my CV out there so thought it [the scam text message]… was a legitimate thing.”

The scammers carried out what Bella thought was a genuine interview with her over the phone for a remote working job involving her using their money to buy and review products.

So sophisticated was the scam the criminals groomed Bella with dozens and dozens of messages and phone calls until, over the course of a few hours one afternoon, they used all the details they’d tricked out of her, along with what she suspects was malware put on her phone, to make four large card payments to a cryptocurrency exchange using her money.

“When I looked at my phone and saw all these payments… [I felt] complete shock, panic. I didn’t know if I could stop them, if there was a way of sorting it out.

“I didn’t know how to cancel or talk to people or to protect my bank account. I’d never dealt with anything like this before.

“I felt quite attacked by it. It was three months’ of work, the whole summer, 50 to 55-hour weeks. So I was pretty distraught and upset by it all.”

How to report a scam message

WhatsApp has lots of advice on how to protect yourself from scams on its website.

You can report a scam text message by forwarding it to 7726 which spells out SPAM on a keypad. If it’s a spam email forward it to [email protected]

Valuable data

Figures from City of London Police show 15 people reported being scammed out of £20,040 to Action Fraud in 2022.

Last year, 126 people reported £977,581 being stolen.

Dr Lis Carter, a criminologist at Kingston University who is an expert in the language and phrases fraudsters use to trick their victims, says recruitment scams are a high-volume, multi-stage crime.

“These text messages will only be relevant to a certain number of people… but it’s a numbers game. Criminals only need a few people to respond and the victims are self selecting.

“Fraudsters will take a victim through several stages, things you’d normally expect a HR department to be asking – name, address, date of birth, bank details.

“All of that stuff is valuable data in itself, so even if that case doesn’t turn into fraud it’s valuable data they can sell on the dark web.”

She says the scammers might ask for small amounts of money upfront, which they claim will be reimbursed in a victim’s first pay cheque for what are genuine things – such as DBS checks, security checks, small bits of equipment – and that once a victim is invested, they can throw more good money after bad.

“The big amounts of money is where the payoff is in these scams,” she says.

“Obtaining bank and card details details… taking control of your computer or phone with the promise of helping victims to remote work – we’ve all done these things for legitimate reasons and scammers use the same scripts.”

Tackling fraud effectively requires “a whole-system response across government, law enforcement and industry”, says Temporary Commander Shaw.

“Every report we receive from the public helps build a stronger picture of the problem, enabling us not only to investigate fraud more effectively, but to take down the bank accounts, websites and phone numbers used by criminals.”

Bella’s bank has refused to refund her as a victim of fraud, although she is now challenging that decision with the Financial Ombudsman Service.

Meanwhile, she is working even more hours as a waitress to try to make up the money that was stolen, and says what’s happened has changed her as a person.

“It makes you feel very immature for this world, very quickly. It’s a big wake-up call.”

You can hear more on this story shortly after broadcast on Money Box.

Follow Money Box and Dan on X (formerly Twitter)

More on this story

Banks dragging their feet over fraud refunds – MP

10 November 2023

‘My business had £1.6m stolen in 20 minutes’

22 October 2023

Bank staff defy customers to prevent £55m of fraud

26 July 2023

Woman loses £3,000 in ‘Hi mum’ scam

24 April 2023

0 notes

sagaonline · 5 months

Text

my old friend and now

The other day, an old friend of mine sent me a message. I haven’t spoken to her in three years, so seeing her name pop up not only in my messages but also in my Snapchat notifications was a shock. she said that she missed me, and that she really didn’t want to drift apart after we finished high school, but things sometimes take turns that we don’t want or expect.

I didn’t reply for a while. I worked a whole shift before I had the courage to say anything. Why was she messaging me now, after three years? I suspected it was because I’ve recently graduated from university, and I posted my excitement for the next chapter of my life on social media. Was that some sort of unknown invitation for members of my past to come back to it?

When I did reply, I said I missed her too. Honestly, I don’t know if I did. It’s always been hard for me to regulate emotions, the teetering line of feeling too much and not enough. Normally, when I fall out with friends, I push any thought of them as far away as I can, too desperate to not feel fear and upset at the fact that they aren’t in my life anymore. It’s the same with her, I hadn’t really thought about her since we last spoke. But the moment I wrote those words, they were real. That ache that comes with missing someone flooded my chest, that feeling of loss because I’ve missed such a great deal of our lives.

I don’t know what she’s like these days, and we used to be best friends in high school. That scares me.

We had known each other all through high school, only really becoming super close in the last two years, and even more so in my senior year of high school. She was there for me when no one else was. We went to the mall together in our free periods and we sat together during our art classes, we hyped each other up for our major projects in Drama class, and she read all my essays with enthusiasm that even some teachers didn’t exhibit. I hosted tutoring sessions for classmates to help us through the final exams, and she attended every session, keen to learn things she already knew.

She asks what I’m doing with my life, congratulates me with my recent graduation.

“What’s the next step for you?” she says, well, types. This is all over messages. She tells me she works as an ‘EA’ (or, ‘the office bitch’ as she dotingly refers to it) in the city, and she works full time and can’t meet until after the twenty-second. I’m happy for it, but I’m secretly jealous at how her life seems so put together at twenty-one, and I feel like I’ve tripped off a cliff and I haven’t stopped falling for even a second.

“I’m going back for further study,” I reply. “I applied for my MA the other day, and I’m thinking of applying to work at our high school in the meantime. Full circle, and whatnot.”

“That’s so great! You’ve been talking about this for forever. I’m so happy and proud of you,” she replies. I don’t remember telling her about it when we spoke, but maybe I did. Another reason for me wanting to reconnect with her is because my memories of high school and elementary and everything in between are spotty. I guess, when I live in books and fictional worlds of the things I write, my own reality tumbles a bit.

I remember, when I was first accepted into university, she was the first person I told. It wasn’t the degree I ended up doing, or at the university I ended up going to, but it was something I was proud of and something I wanted to do at the time. I remember talking about that. It was for a school in the capital, working in forensic science majoring in chemistry and law. Crazy, comparing it to the degree I ended up studying (linguistics and language science). It felt like me, but I guess, linguistics is me now.

We organize to meet up on a random Sunday, a date we will finalise more closer past the twenty-second, and we call it a night. I didn’t expect to hear from her again, but she pops up. She sends me a snapchat selfie of her at work, she texts me about whether I moved for uni like I’d always planned to and she asks what I do for work.

“I actually have two jobs right now. I work in retail in plus size women’s fashion and I also edit novels and online publications and stuff,” I say. Compared to her fancy full time job, I feel a bit like a joke. Both my jobs are part time, and even though editing is something I love doing (hence, delving my life into reading and writing), it’s not good paying, and I work on one project every few months. Retail is a nightmare, as is any nightmare. It’s better than my last job, I tell myself with the intention of forcing myself to be happy for what I have. I used to work at a department store, and I had for five years before I left.

I didn’t actually reply to her until a few days after about my work. I don’t know why, but I delayed it. Me and messaging people isn’t the best combination. Something about the tangibility and immediateness of it scares me, I think. It’s not uncommon for me to not reply to someone for hours, if not, days on end. There’s a video on Snapchat she sent me that I still haven’t opened, which is even more nerve wracking for me.

When I did reply to her, it was in the early morning, and she replied a couple hours later asking if it was a store in our local mall. I replied that it was, and she said she was coming to say hello.

I haven’t seen her in three years, and she’s coming to my workplace for a quick catch up chat.

I get nervous when it comes to going to things I’ve known about for weeks, pre-prepared plans with my own family. Now, I’m meeting the girl I used to be friends with until we fell apart spontaneously, and I don’t feel a thing. I don’t feel nervous, or anxious, or nauseous like I usually do. I just feel like me, maybe a little bit excited. It’s not a feeling I’m used to. I walk around my small store for hours until she comes in. And when she does, I’m talking to my coworker who just started. And it’s not awkward.

She tells me she’s moving into the city with her partner. She tells me her salary and her plans to move up in the company. She tells me how much money her company has spent on their Christmas party, and all I can do is swallow and stare at her.

Her hair is different, shorter. Her face is different, like she’s grown into it, but it’s the same girl underneath. The same girl I had known for five years before we became inseparable in senior year. Her voice sounds the same, but she’s aged. She’s grown into this beautiful twenty-one year old and I look the same as I have since I was sixteen. It’s not that I feel jealous, I’m proud of her. It’s strange to see.

When we were in high school, we used to joke that she would stay in this shitty town forever, without a partner, and still in the same shithole department store she worked in. She’s outgrown this town, and I can’t find it in me to hate her for it or be jealous that it’s not me. In high school, she played guitar and she sang and she would paint pictures in art class about what she was feeling like when she listened to music. Now, she’s flourished and she’s about to move out with her partner and start a life in the city, far away from the small town we grew up in.

We haven’t had a chance to plan a proper-catch up just yet. Originally, when I thought she was still staying here in our town, I had recommended a cafe we had visited many times before. Now, we’re talking about a shopping mall that’s local to her new place, with expensive bougie food that requires at least three pictures before fork can even be placed near the plate.

And I find that I dont care. As long as I can spend time with her. We have a lot to catch up on. And I am nothing but excited.

Saga.

#journal entry #entry 1 #writing

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delmege · 7 months

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BECAUSE I feel like I am constantly in a 'deciding what to do with my life' position and that I keep making the wrong decisions. because if I made the right ones, surely I wouldn't still be trying to decide?

it might be a grass is always greener thing. because that's a depression thing, too, in that i can tell myself if I do X, then I'll be happpier when actually, I will still be depressed. I am going to look into therapy; I really am. I want to. but it's hard to give a shit when you don't actually give a shit about yourself, y'know?

i think i've been trying to tell myself that I want to quit my job and do this degree because it will give me clarity for four years. for four years, i won't have to face this problem again because I'll be doing the degree. but then the degree will end and I'll be having to make a decision and it will possibly be an even harder one because I'll have been out of the workforce for four years, because I'll be that much older, because I won't have a house anymore and will have that much less money and yes, I know that that's a situatio plenty of 36-year-olds are in but it scares the shit out of me

and I know, I know, do it scared, do it anyway, blah blah blah but everything scares me so it doesn't actually help me make a decision. none of the options appeal because I just straight up want a different life -- even though, no, of course I'm not doing the things I should be in order to get to that different life!

I don't have to move! I could probably get it right here! I just have to DO things! I have to START stuff, join clubs, GO to the fucking office when I'm supposed to and see people. horror of horrors do the fucking dating apps again -- or, realistically, like, at all because when have I ever used them properly?

I remember being 21 and writing about I felt like I was decaying because my life was just going on and I was doing nothing about it but sitting in my parents' house and staying up too late and being depressed and now here I am, 31 and in my own house this tim ebut staying up too late and being depressed and not having a clue what to do and feeling like I'm wasting my life because I'm not making the most of it because i'm TOO FUCKING SCARED

I didn't used to be. Bitch, I flew to Australia by myself, after the worst year of my life, to try to live there for a year. I moved to Wolverhampton to do an apprenticeship in baking even though I didn't know anyone there. I dropped out of university twice to try to find the thing I wanted to do. I've done scary stuff

the problem is that none of that shit worked out for me. I was so scarred and so mentally ill that despite getting TWO jobs in Australia, I couldn't do either of them and I went home after two months, admitting complete defeat. the apprenticeship turned into the worst year of my life when my disordered eating completely took hold and i started self-harming. dropping out of uni, well, that was mental health shit too, I just didn't understand it.

every decision I have made has felt wrong. I have NO idea how to find direction in my life because all the directions I want to go in require me to have a gazillion pounds already OR to live life in poverty and I can't do that.

constantly coming back to the quetsion of like... how the fuck do people live? no, seriously.

I mean, I do actually know. because if I had a full life outside of work, I probably wouldn't be this miserable; I probably wouldn't be this desperate to make a drastic change. I'm just lonely and alone and I spend too much time by myself because I don't have friends here anymore (and let's not get onto THAT topic because I am feeling INCREDIBLY sensitive atm about being left out and friends not talking to me etc).

I know I have to make changes. I know I have to do that. I started exercising and then that went to hell because my back is still fucked. I have emailed a woman about piano lessons. I'm going to find that therapist I emailed months ago and actually reply to her. I know I can fix some stuff, if not all of it. I know that I have to be the one to do it. I know that. I do. Nothing is going to come along and just fix my life, not even really if I won the lottery; it would make shit a HELL of a lot easier but I'd still have work to do

I know it's never too late and I'm still young and there's still time but every day there is a little LESS time and I dread being 40 and looking back on my thirties in the same way that I look back on my twenties now.

I should probably start doing morning pages again. maybe I will. that will give me something to do in the morning to get out of bed for that isn't my job. it would be a good place to put all of this shit.

I know I should go to bed. absolutely. objectively. idk i probably wont though, not tonight. i'm sick of being in bed. i'm sick of having to force myself to get OUT of bed. I start my day, every single day, doing the thing I hate the most. every day starts badly because it starts with getting out of bed. and boy what a sad, pathetic sentence.

anyway i'm off to cry now

#this is huge word vomit about me not knowing what to do with my life #it is not interesting #also #cw mention of self harm

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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

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Thick And Thin (one-shot)

Synopsis: He never thought his wife would ever even think about divorce. They had problems, which is why they were at marriage counselling. But he never knew her heart had broken a long time ago. And he’d been the one to break it before they even got together.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: aaaaaaannnnggggssssttt baby, just wanted to write something that’d rip your heart out :)

Warnings: swearing, pain, kinda depressive (??), can’t think of anything else really, but please let me know if there is, also not my best work lol :D

Word count: 7102 (let’s start off the New Year with loads of pain :) )

Italics are flashbacks

“I want a divorce.”

Never in Harry’s life did he think he’d have to hear those words. Not after everything they’d been through, not after all of the effort he’d been putting in to save their relationship.

Those words had not only stunned him but their marriage councillor, the woman’s mouth open mid-word, as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Harry was fairing even worse. It was like his brain was short-circuiting, synapses broken and no longer sending any signals.

“Mrs Styles, I know it’s difficult,” the therapist tried to diffuse the situation. “But the reason you’re here is to avoid this specifically.”

“I don’t remember how you smell anymore,” Y/N continued not listening to the woman, voice like a black void, but her Y/E/C eyes rimmed with tears. “Or taste. I don’t remember how it feels to have you pressed up against me or what it’s like to hear your voice. I… I don’t have anything to cling onto anymore.”

“It’s why we're here!” he cried through clenched teeth, slipping on his knees before her, hands grasping Y/N’s in a vice-like grip. “It’s why we’re trying.”

The laugh she let out was detached and without any love. “We tried it your way, Harry.” She’d never called him Harry before. It was always Lover. “And it’s not working for me. It hasn’t from the start. We’re… we’re so unhappy. And I don’t want that for you or for me. We deserve happiness. But I don’t think we can give that to one another anymore.” She took in a shaky breath, looking down at Harry’s hands in her lap. “When I thought of it, at first I felt horrible. I wanted to throw myself off somewhere, but the more I sat on that thought, the more relieved I felt.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, didn’t want to believe it. “Relieved?” The word felt like acid in his mouth.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Relieved. Because this choice won’t make us hurt one another anymore. This gives us a chance to have a fresh start.”

“I don’t want a fresh start! We said – we said through thick and thin.” He was grasping onto the last straw he could find. “This is the thin, but we’ll get through it.”

“Harry, I already broke through the thin. And now I’m drowning. And when the thick comes, I’ll either be frozen under it and watch you walk further, or I’ll surface somewhere, and I don’t know on which side of the shore I’m gonna be on and where you’ll be. And if you try to get me, you’ll start drowning too. I don’t want that.”

“But that’s what marriage is! Going through the tough shit together!”

“Harry… I already asked Lionel to draw up the papers. The first draft is done.”

His blood froze in his veins.

“When you said to sit down and write one thing that makes me happy about the relationship,” Y/N was looking at the therapist now, “about the person, I – I couldn’t. Because I kept thinking back to the start, to the beginning. That’s what made me happy. But now…” She glanced at Harry. “If there was one thing, I couldn’t do to you, not in a moment like this, is lie. I just… I don’t remember how to be happy with you.”

***

They’d started out as the cliché of best-friends-lose-contact-only-to-be-reunited-and-not-let-their-chance-pass-by-and-fall-in-love. She was ten when she’d moved in next door to him and he was twelve when he’d seen the three vans full up to the house, a little girl hopping out from one of them. Harry watched as she rushed up the doorstep and put in a key, unlocking it and a new chapter of her life with it. Little did he know she’d unlocked a new chapter of his life as well.

She was the new kid at school, and despite the fact that he was a year above, he sat down next to her at lunch.

“ ’M ‘arry,” he said through a mouthful of a sandwich. “Saw you move in yesterday.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

And that was the start of a blooming friendship.

On her eleventh birthday, he gave her a handmade bracelet. She gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, making Harry blush all shades of pink and red.

He was thirteen when he had his first real kiss on his birthday. Y/N had simply tried to peck him on the cheek, but he’d turned his head, and her mouth had ended up on his. She’d walked away with a shy smile and ears on fire.

She was thirteen when a boy first asked her out. Harry was the first person she told him about it. That was the first time his heart broke.

When he was fifteen, he got his first girlfriend. Y/N was fourteen when her heart broke for the first time.

And then he'd gone on X-factor and with that forgotten about her. She called him, texted him, messaged him on social media, but usually, she’d maybe get only one picture or a small ‘miss you too’ as a response. So, after a whole year apart, she gave up. What was the point of trying to save anything when he didn’t want to?

He moved on and became an international superstar. Y/N moved on and graduated top of her class, got into her first-choice university, and graduated with a first as well. He had some relationships here and there, while Y/N had had a steady relationship since the second year of uni, but when she decided to go to a different one for her masters they amicably broke up.

Eight years later she was sitting at a café in London, laughing with her ex-boyfriend and catching up, as he explained how what Criminal Minds showed wasn’t really what was taught in his criminology degree classes.

“I’m still saying I dated real-life Spencer Reid,” Y/N chuckled, sipping on her gingerbread latte. “Don’t give a shit, I need something to flex with.”

Harry had then walked inside the café, shaking off the snow from his boots when a familiar laugh he hadn’t heard in ages invaded his senses. It was almost like he’d stepped into a dream.

When his green eyes befell on the owner of the voice, he had to take a double-take. Somehow in his brain, he’d expected the fifteen-year-old teenager, a t-shirt of his face on her body, as she’d cheered him on when he’d gone onto his first concert as part of One Direction to be sitting in the chair, not the grown-up woman.

He’d still checked in with Y/N through what she posted on her social media, but as much as he’d promised not to have the celebrity life sweep him away, it had. Harry sometimes had two concerts a day, and he barely had a moment to take a bite of food. And he hated to admit it, but Y/N simply slipped from his life. And he didn’t bother to put in the effort to pull her back.

A huge wave of guilt and longing rushed through his body as he glanced at the woman, her face lit up by joy as she and the man before her continued on with their conversation.

Someone tapped on his shoulder, making him turn around and face another customer. “You gonna order anything?”

For a moment Harry stuttered. He could walk away without inserting himself back into Y/N’s life, but he didn’t want that. He’d missed her. Harry didn’t even realise how much he’d missed her.

“You go ahead.” He motioned with his hand. “I’m still thinking.”

Harry took in a deep breath and then walked towards where the pair was sitting.

The man’s eyes flitted up to see who was towering over Y/N, only for them to widen, and his mouth hang open.

A sense of pride filled Harry's chest at the reaction and maybe quenched a little bit of the jealousy invading his body. He used to be the one who made Y/N laugh until she had to tell him to stop or she’d pee herself. He was back to take up the role.

“You okay there, Dan?” she chuckled. “Don’t tell me there’s a ghost behind my back. I told him not to walk out of the flat wit –“ Y/N had turned around and almost choked on her drink. “Oh my god, Harry! Oh – hi!” She jumped up hugging him, feeling how his body shook with laughter at her reaction, strong arms weaving around her middle. “Holy shit, it’s really you!”

“Yeah, ‘s me. Who else?”

“I didn’t know you were back in the UK.”

A warmth spread through his chest, as he reluctantly pulled away from the hug. “Been checking in on me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sitting back down, but pulling up a third chair for Harry to sit upon. “Dan’s a huge fan.” She motioned with her head to the man. “When we first started dating, I thought he was only doing it because we used to be friends, and he hoped I’d set you up or something.”

Harry masked the choke of envy by clearing his throat and letting out an awkward chuckle. “Hope I’m not interrupting a date or something.”

“A catch-up date, but not a date date.” Dan lifted his brows at Y/N, who gave him a ‘don’t start this’ look to which he threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m just making conversation.”

“You’re being annoying, that’s what you are.” Y/N flicked a crumb from the table towards him.

It was in that moment that it truly hit how much he’d missed, and it hit him hard he no longer knew the person who once was his best friend.

“You’re different,” Harry said, looking over at her trying to keep the lump in his throat from making his voice break.

Y/N shrugged, eyes twinkling. “I mean it has been almost a decade. I do hope I don’t look the same as I did then. Otherwise, the pain of braces was of no use.”

“No,” he chuckled shaking his head. “’S not that… It’s like you’re a different person.”

“I grew up,” she said, sipping on the last bits of her drink. “ ’M not the same fifteen-year-old you saw last.”

He nodded and bit his lip. But the thing was, Harry wasn’t the stupid sixteen-year-old that left the fifteen-year-old her either. This time, he wouldn’t let the chance at happiness pass him by when he could’ve had it all along.

***

He sat across from Y/N at the large marble table and watched, heart bleeding out in his chest as she put her signature on the papers, her attorney fishing out something from his briefcase and handing it to her under the table. He saw her shoulders shudder before she placed a maroon rectangle with a golden inscription on it in her own purse. Harry wanted to vomit. It was her new passport, where her surname no longer matched his, where he no longer existed, inscribed into the document as her spouse.

“Mr Styles?” Y/N’s lawyer pushed the papers his way, the pen laying atop them. “’S your turn.”

‘Your turn’, as if it was a game of spin the bottle or UNO.

“Don’t make me,” he choked out, pleading with Y/N one last time. “Please don’t make me do this. Don’t make me give up on us.”

Her words were worse than a knife to his soul. “You can’t give up on something that’s no longer there.”

When they’d been at the stage of negotiation, he’d kept pushing for giving her at least half of his income, to give her one of the houses they owned together, but she’d turned everything down.

“I didn’t marry you for your money, Harry.” He’d expected her voice to be full of venom, but it wasn’t. It was sad, resigned. “I don’t want what you’ve earned.”

“Let me give you at least something.”

“I don’t want anything from you. If it makes you feel any better, you can donate whatever amount you wanted to give me. I don’t care. All I want from this is for you to sign the papers.”

“And if I can’t?”

Y/N sighed, looking down at the table. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

That’s when her attorney had cleared his throat. “Mrs Sty – Y/L/N. Legally, according to the prenup, you are entitled to half of Mr Styles estate as well as twenty percent of all his earnings.”

But Y/N just shook her head. “I only signed those documents because that’s what he and his agent wanted. I never asked for it or anything or the sort. Donate it, for all I care. Buy a new house, Harry I literally don’t want to know what you do with your money.” Y/N took in a sharp breath and calmed herself down. It’d been the first time Harry had heard any sort of emotion from her since she'd spoken those horrible words. “I just want this over with.”

And now, he was at the moment of the end. He just never thought their story would end with broken hearts and ripped up futures.

His handwriting was barely legible at best of times, but right now it seemed as if a toddler had tried to forge it with how much his hand shook. When the pen dropped, so did his shoulders, and he saw Y/N’s drop as well.

Harry’s with weight from the love lost, Y/N’s with relief, for now their broken hearts wouldn’t hurt one another no longer.

His lawyer handed him over a new passport as well, where Y/N was no longer written as his spouse. The urge to rip it to shreds was almost uncontainable. He hated it more than the divorce papers.

***

They’d been dating for a little over two years when he decided to propose, only every plan he had was miserably ruined by some outside force.

The first time he’d decided he’d do it at a romantic dinner. Harry had found out Y/N wasn’t a fan of huge romantic gestures, so he wouldn’t get on one knee and draw everyone’s attention. He’d simply take her hand in his, kiss her fingers and ask.

But as they’d sat at the table enjoying their meal and talking, he noticed Y/N become quieter and quieter. A frown morphed on his face.

“You alright, Lovie?”

“Umm,” Y/N’s brow creased even more, and she dropped her fork. “I umm I don’t know. ‘M feeling kind of funky?”

“What’dya mean?”

“I – “ Y/N opened her mouth but didn’t manage to get anything else out as she jumped up and rushed towards the ladies room.

Harry quickly dropped his own utensils and rushed after her, not bothering with the yells of the woman who was looking at herself in the mirror, while his girlfriend threw up her guts inside one of the toilets.

A member of the staff had run to see what all the commotion was about, but when he saw Y/N half inside a stall, half outside, Harry’s hands keeping her hair away from her face, he went back out and immediately grabbed the first aid kit they had in the kitchen, handing it to Harry along with a cold wet towel.

Y/N shuddered, leaning against the stall wall sweat glistening on her face, as he pressed the damp cloth against her skin. She gave him half a smile. “Told you not to get the shrimp.”

“I’ll get the cab, Lovie.” He smoothed away the once meticulously styled hair, which was now stuck to her damp skin.

But she shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m about to puke again.”

In the end, she threw up two more times, her stomach really not agreeing with the entrée. The waiters kept apologising the whole time, and the chef had stopped cooking, the restaurant immediately taking action and refunding everyone who’d ordered anything with shrimps in them.

When they’d gotten back home, Y/N was so tired and felt so sick, Harry could only help her get out of the dress, clean her up with a warm towel and wrap her up in her favourite pyjamas before curling up together on his bed and falling asleep, making sure if there was a moment, she felt nauseous again, he was by her side. She needed his help more than he needed to propose.

***

He threw himself into his work like a madman. Day and night, he was either at a studio, on a filming lot, in between meetings or interviews. The media buzzed about how his marriage had fallen apart, even though Y/N hadn’t made a statement or spoken a word to anyone, and neither had Harry. But he guessed the emptiness of his ring finger gave everything away.

He refused, however, to speak on it. As painful as it was, he was still in love with Y/N. She hadn’t chosen to be in the spotlight, it was Harry’s world, not hers, so he respected her decision to be quiet and remained so himself, save for one single post his management had asked for him to put up. It'd also been the last time he'd spoken to her.

All he received was a simple text message 'do what you have to do'.

A couple of months down the line though, something came up, and Harry couldn’t keep his tongue behind his teeth.

It was an article in The Sun, a photograph of Y/N plastered all over the front page with the words ‘Gold-digger Y/L/N finally seen out after divorce with Harry Styles.” He’d snatched the paper right off the stand and flipped it open, frantic green eyes scanning the words.

‘Despite it only being two months since the two childhood ex-best friends broke up, Y/N Y/L/N was already seen in the company of a man, sharing a drink, and giving one another flirtatious smiles. An inside source tells us, how she hadn’t even been that upset about the divorce and has been going out and having fun with many male companions, one of them being her ex-boyfriend from university times.’

‘Harry Styles, known for his time in the pop boyband One Direction and for his solo endeavours in music as well as dabbling in acting, broke everyone’s belief in true love after being seen in public without a ring. This prompted an announcement that the four-year relationship and two-year marriage to who was once his best friend had ended and the two had decided to get a divorce. Although the post showed a picture of their silhouettes holding one another with their foreheads together, and his statement showed nothing but love and respect for his then-wife, sources say Y/N had been controlling and obsessive over her then-husband and hadn’t wanted him to leave to pursue his career, stifling his growth.’

He didn’t bother to read any further, as he pulled out his phone, calling Jeff immediately to figure out how to make all of it go away, how to do at least one thing right.

“They’re dragging her name through the mud!” he sneered, not even caring he was bumping shoulders with people, and if the paparazzi would dare spin a story of the state he was in at that moment, he’d sue each and every one of them personally. “I have to do something. Fuck, Jeff, I love her! I can’t let them paint her like this. Y/N – “ he choked back a lump. “She never asked for this. Didn’t ask for anything. And that man – that was Dan, okay. I know him. Yes, he’s her ex, but they don’t know anything!”

“Harry I’ve sent them cease-and-desist letters already.” Jeff tried to ease him. “But… she’s no longer your concern Har.”

The words hit him like a bullet and ripped a hole in his chest just like one of them would. “You might still love her,” Jeff’s voice was solemn. “But Y/N is no longer yours to protect.”

“I can’t just let them talk shit about her,” Harry whispered back.

His friend sighed on the other side of the line. “I know. Which is why we’ll deal with it. But you have to start letting her go.”

***

The second time Harry wanted to propose was about a month later, and Christmas was right around the corner. They’d decided that Christmas Eve would be spent with his sister, her boyfriend and Anne, while Christmas Day they’d go to Y/N’s side of the family.

Although they’d settled on one gift each, Harry had been carrying around that small box for what felt like an eternity. And it wouldn’t really be a gift, given how he’d wrap it and hang it in the tree.

“It’s an ornament,” he’d say to her, a smug smile on his lips, as Y/N would roll her eyes at him. “Just because it has your name on it, doesn’t mean it’s immediately a present.”

And then she’d open it, and would gasp, and Harry would slide down on his knee, press a kiss to her ring-free finger before asking that fateful question.

But just like before, his plan didn’t come to fruition.

He’d asked his mother to hang up the little box, so there was no chance of Y/N seeing it in his hands, but what he hadn’t thought of was Gemma’s boyfriend had decided on the exact same plan of action.

When Michal had dropped down on his knee, Harry’s sister’s trembling hand in his, he couldn’t do that to them. As much as he wanted to marry Y/N, he couldn’t take away Gemma’s moment. So while Y/N was preoccupied with looking at the gleaming diamond on Gemma’s finger, Harry plucked down the box from where it’d hung and placed it on the side no one could see, before he could put it in his bag.

“ ’M sorry, honey,” Anne had said to him over coffee the next morning. “I didn’t know Michal would do that.”

He’d just shaken his head, no hurt in his heart. “Great minds think alike. Our moment will come. ‘M happy for Gem. Besides, if he hadn’t done that anytime soon, I would’ve needed to have a stern talking.”

***

What his sister said to him made him think he had to be living in a simulation, because it couldn’t be true. Y/N couldn’t be getting married. Not this soon. Not ever. Not to someone who wasn’t him. It had been barely a year since he’d signed the death sentence to his own happiness.

Harry shook his head. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying, Gem.”

“I’m not.” Her voice broke as she said it. “I saw her at a café. Saw the ring… the man who gave it to her. Harry, I’m so sorry.”

His mind reeled with questions he wasn’t sure he wanted answers to. Was that why she’d really divorced him? Had she been cheating on him and just needed an excuse out of their relationship to jump into the new one? He was away so much on their relationship, he wouldn’t have been surprised if someone else had swooped in and tried to win her heart.

Harry’s mind was one of the greatest things he’d been blessed him, but also one of the worst curses bestowed upon him, as it weaved a story of Y/N and the man who’d now put a gleaming ring on her finger.

He was away, like always, doing something he could do another time. She was on her own, keeping their bed warm with just her body, fighting for their relationship on her own, while he made plans once more to go to a different part of the world and leave her behind again.

Y/N pulled herself out of the bed, sighing and rubbing her face. She opened their closet only to be greeted with Harry’s half empty. Maybe that was the moment she decided to find someone who’d fill it and wouldn’t leave it permanently empty, Harry conjured up.

She’d dress in a soft jumper and some jeans, a large cardigan hanging over her body and would go to a café for her morning drink. And that’s where she’d meet him. The stranger that would take her out of the lonely life she’d been living. The stranger that would make a smile bloom on her face and her heart stutter once more. The stranger who would show her the love Y/N deserved to have.

Harry had to shake his head to get rid of the thoughts before they ventured into a worse territory.

No. Y/N wasn’t like that. No matter what, she would never cheat on him. She had enough dignity for herself and respect for him, even though in his own mind, Harry didn’t think he deserved it.

Although he didn’t have a right to, nor was it the sanest move (and if someone saw him doing it, there would probably be a slew of articles), Harry got into his car and drove to where Y/N’s apartment was, and when she opened the door after hearing seven loud knocks, he stepped inside without even waiting for her to invite him.

“You’re getting married?”

She crossed her arms. “It’s none of your concern.”

“It’s been barely a year! I refuse to believe you’ve moved on so fast.”

Maybe he was kidding himself, and Y/N truly had, but as much as their marriage had fallen apart, he did have the honour of having known her and having figured some things out deeper than others would.

Y//N scoffed. “I was proposed to. And I said yes.” The words were like venom entering his veins. “If I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t have agreed to it. And as I already said – it is none of your concern.”

Harry stood there, watching as she dragged a hand down her face, eyes flitting everywhere he wasn’t. It told him everything he needed to know.

“You’re not happy,” he whispered stepping forward and reaching for her hand. “I know how you shine when you’re truly happy. This isn’t it. Why are you doing this?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Harry was so confused, at a complete loss at what Y/N was saying. “So, you’ll what? Get married to him and be miserable? Why the hell did you divorce me then?”

Y/N sighed. “Being unhappy with him isn’t as unbearable as being unhappy with you. Because with you, I know what it feels like to truly fully loved. Which is why it broke me when you stopped.”

“I never stopped!” Harry whisper yelled, anger coursing through his veins at her words, because they were lies. “Why do you think I dragged us to marriage counselling? Why do you think I kept fighting for us? For you?! You were the one that gave up!”

“You weren’t there when I needed you.”

Harry blinked rapidly, not understanding what she meant.

“You left me for ten years. You forgot all about me until that day at the café. Not once did you message me or call me or even send fucking snail mail. I was the one putting in all the effort, I was the one who was trying to keep you in my life, but you didn’t want it. Just like it was when we were married.”

Rage bubbled under the surface, but he kept it at bay. That was not how he’d get Y/N back. “How?” he asked calmly. “How did I not want it?”

She scoffed shaking her head. “It was the same as it was ten years ago. With the movie, the new album... You were always at the studio or hanging out with your castmates. When I asked for you to free up one night, one single night, you didn’t come back until three AM, drunk off your ass, and I had to take care of you. I asked for one night. And you didn’t even give me that. So forgive me for not feeling like you still loved me.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me then?!”

“I did!” This was the first time he’d ever heard Y/N yell, before kneading her lips tightly together and then continuing more quietly. “But you never heard me. Not really. You heard what I asked, and promised to be there, but when the time came… something more important always came up. Something that always deserved to have the promise you gave me to be broken.” Y/N gave him a sad smile. “Do you remember when you first asked me out? And I said no?”

Harry nodded. “You said that we just got one another back and didn’t want to have anything rip us apart again. Didn’t even want to chance it.”

“And you said it was exactly why I should give us a chance. That we’d finally found one another again and shouldn’t let the opportunity go…” She tilted her head. “Guess we should’ve listened to me. I included.”

He couldn’t believe her. “Is that really your takeaway here? You were right?”

“But I was.” Y/N shrugged. “Look at where we are now. You forgot me for basically ten years.” She shrugged, stepping away. “Give it some time, and you’ll forget me for the rest of your life. Besides, we’ve not known one another longer than we have. So, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Why did you then? Go out with me?” Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. “Get married to me?”

For a moment Y/N just looked at him, Y/E/C eyes boring into his green ones. “Because I’d once again convinced myself I was important to you, just like I did when we were teens. And in my head, I had dreamt up that maybe I’d be important enough for you not to forget me.”

***

The third time did the charm though.

They were both sleepy, under the covers of Harry’s bed, eyes barely keeping open as they were determined to finish Elf.

Y/N had her cheek pressed against his chest, bare body next to his naked one. She hated sleeping in pyjamas (unless they were staying over at one of their parent’s places,) because she said it made her feel like the clothes were suffocating her. Harry didn’t like sleeping with pyjamas because all he wanted was to fully feel the skin of his lover next to his.

Snow fell behind the large windows of his London penthouse apartment, covering the city in a white blanket. It rarely snowed there, so he watched with warmth in his heart as the flakes fluttered to the ground.

It was all so calm, so serene, that Harry realised that’d been the moment he’d been waiting for. No need for fancy dinners or present it as a loud gift. Being together was a gift enough.

“Lovie?” he asked, nose hidden in her hair. “You awake?”

All he received in answer was a small hum. She was on the verge of passing out, but this was the moment, so, he whispered the question, voice so low as if he was asking the dark to marry him not Y/N.

He couldn’t look at her, afraid of what she might say, afraid she might say no, think back to the times he wasn’t there for her, think of all the reasons why he wasn’t good enough for her, and would only bring her sorrow.

“Lover.” Her voice was as soft as a summer’s morning. “Look at me. Please.”

It was one of the most frightening things in his life, as he did so.

Y/E/C eyes met green. What he saw on her face allowed his heart to calm down a little.

“Is the Sun the closest star to us?”

That he hadn’t expected. “What?”

“Does it rise in the East and set in the West?”

“Y-yes?”

Her hand cupped his cheek, and he melted against her. “Then why are you asking me a question you know the answer will be the same as to those?”

“Can I put the ring on your finger then?” He was more excited than about anything in his life.

Y/N shook her head, bringing his lips to brush against hers. “Don’t need a ring. Just need you to kiss me.”

***

The wedding was far away from the city so that no one from the press could even think about following her or her entourage. The guest list was small, compared to the three hundred people Harry’s and her wedding had had.

Anne had told him not to go. He wasn’t invited, and neither was she or Gemma, for obvious reasons. As much as Y/N loved them, she knew it’d hurt the two women, but it would hurt Harry more. So seeing her stepping out of the car, dressed in a cream wedding gown, a veil covering her face, made flashbacks appear behind Harry’s eyelids.

She’d worn an off-white gown before as well, dusty rose to be exact. And Harry’s bow tie had matched it. Y/N had never liked the thought of wearing white at her wedding.

“Listen, if it’s white, I’ll most definitely spill something on it,” she’d told him as both of them had been flipping through some wedding magazines. “You know me. But if it’s some other colour, there’s a bigger chance no one will notice when that happens.”

It didn’t seem right to him. It was like a bad fever-dream like he’d had that one time, and Y/N had had to listen to him babble about the hallucinations dancing in front of him because of the high temperature.

Her gaze remained on the ground, or maybe on the bucket of white roses in her hands. She hated white roses.

A woman in a pale blue dress straightened out the back of Y/N’s dress and the train of it, and he watched as her mother came to stand beside her daughter, giving her an elbow to grasp onto.

All he wanted was for Y/N to be happy, and it hurt to think it wasn’t with him because Harry believed it was supposed to be him.

He took in a shaky breath and got out of the car just as Y/N had walked up the steps and disappeared behind the double doors.

It was going to be him.

***

Harry knew he wasn’t the best husband in the world. He was away for a lot of time, and as conceited of an excuse it was, his job did entail going out to parties, mingling with other people living the high life, and being seen with certain celebs.

Y/N was never one for it. She always supported Harry, but she didn’t like going out and spending time with people who didn’t care for her existence. Well, maybe they did, but only in a sense that she’d been the lucky bitch who’d snagged up the Harry Styles.

But if there was something Harry did was love, and he loved wholeheartedly, which is why it absolutely destroyed him when he’d gotten back home one evening and heard Y/N crying in their bathroom.

She’d never tell him, but it was because no longer did his pillow smell like him. Harry had been away for so long, that the essence of him that’d soaked into their sheets was no longer there. And it broke her to pieces.

When he’d get home, he’d be so tired, he’d crash on the couch, only tiptoeing his way into their shared room to go to his closet and get some clean clothes in the morning. He’d look over at his sleeping wife and allow a blissful smile to bloom on his face at the sight.

He was so lucky to have Y/N back in his life. He was so lucky she’d accepted him and fallen for him as he’d fallen for her. He’d silently move over and press a kiss to her temple, before going back down and off to work once more. Only he wouldn’t see the dried tears on her cheeks.

So, when he’d found her curled up in the tub, hands in her hair, face hidden by her knees, frame trembling like leaves in a storm, he instantly dropped to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through his bones, as he pulled Y/N into him.

“I can’t, Harry,” she choked out, shaking her head. He knew it was bad. She never called him by his name. “I can’t do this. I’m so alone. Even when you’re here, I’m alone.”

Harry had had his heart broken before, and always he wondered afterwards if someone took it out of his chest at that moment, what kind of a sound would it make. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it’d be as silent as the tears running down his face at Y/N’s confession.

“Maybe,” he swallowed harshly trying to keep his whole body from shaking, from showing the fear her statement instilled in him. “Maybe we need couple’s therapy.”

“What?” her eyebrows had shot up to the middle of the forehead.

“Y/N, we’re clearly having problems. I – I know I need to work on things, but you’re also not telling me how you’re feeling. Maybe we just need some help.”

She didn’t really know what to respond. In her mind, Y/N had somehow conjured up an image that if she ever got married, they’d be happy. Sure, they’d fight and have rows, but they’d always be able to work things out on their own. Not once in her life, did she ever think she’d need to go and see a marriage counsellor to help her save her marriage.

Her own parents much like Harry’s had gotten divorced. Hers had tried therapy. It’d been their last resort. It didn't work. So, when he’d mentioned it to her, that’s what made her decide it was truly over.

Y/N nodded, bringing him in for a hug, and felt his body melt into hers with relief.

She’d try, for Harry, but her mind was already made up.

***

So he stood outside the doors, listening for the line of ‘if there is anyone who opposes this union speak up now, or forever hold your peace’. His hand grasped the handle, ready to push, but… he couldn’t. He’d ruined her happy ever after once before. He couldn’t do that again to her.

Tears streamed down his face as he pocketed his hands and ventured away from the ceremony. The ceremony where the love of his life was promising to cherish someone else, to fight through thick and thin with someone else, to make someone else happy, while her own happiness suffered.

Harry sat in his car, waiting for her to exit, a smile on her face as she’d hold the hand of who now was her husband. That'd be the moment he'd let go of her. But when the doors sprung open, she was alone, hands clutching onto the front of her dress, as she rushed down the steps and back inside the car she’d arrived in.

For a second he sat in his vehicle, stunned beyond belief at what had happened, at what, as horrible as it sounded, he hoped had happened. When a man, hand in his hair ran outside as well, the same woman in the pale blue dress rushing out with him, Harry knew.

He was basically a madman on the road, breaking almost every possible law as he tried to catch up to the car Y/N had jumped in.

His mind raced with the possibilities of where she could’ve gone. The airport, her family’s summer house in Winchester, honestly anywhere in the world, but Harry shut up his mind, and allowed his heart to make the decision.

It didn’t seem like Y/N had premeditated fleeing from her wedding, which meant she’d need her stuff. And that meant going to her apartment as quickly as possible before someone came to look for her.

The way he parked was probably illegal leaving the car basically in the middle of the road, but Harry didn’t care much as he frantically rushed up the steps of her apartment complex. He was scared that if he knocked, she wouldn’t open, thinking it might be someone from the wedding, but he didn’t need to be afraid of it, as he saw Y/N, her hair still styled as it had been for the ceremony, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a suitcase in hand exiting from the flat.

“Why didn’t you do it?” he breathlessly asked, startling her and making her drop the keys.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? What are you doing here?”

Harry stepped closer, hand cupping her cheek, insides trembling from all of the emotions coursing through his body. “Why didn’t you do it? Marry him? Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I – “ Y/N choked on her words. “I couldn’t say yes. It didn’t feel right.”

“Why?”

“Because it wasn’t you, I was saying yes to.”

That was all Harry needed to kiss her like he'd done once before. And this time, he wasn’t going to let her go. He’d made that mistake twice. He would never repeat it again.

“I love you,” he cried through a laugh. “I love you. I love you. I love you. And I’m never letting you slip through my fingers ever again.”

“How can you even think about loving me again after what I did to us?” she asked, pulling away from his lips.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re talking like I ever stopped. Through thick and thin. It’s what we promised. Think and thin, my Lovie."

***

A sixteen-year-old Harry and a fifteen-year-old Y/N laid outside in the grass of Harry’s garden; eyes trained onto the dark night starlit sky above. It was the day before his life changed forever as did hers.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Harry asked, trying to catch a glimpse of a shooting star.

Y/N scrunched up her nose. “No. I don’t think I do. And I don’t think I want one.”

“Why not?”

“What if they’re old and in their thirties? Or dead?”

Harry snorted at her response.

“And you?” Y/N turned her head to look at him. “Do you believe in soulmates?

He bit his lip and nodded. “I think I do. I think it’s two people who’ve been brought together, and no matter what happens will find their way to one another. Through thick and thin.”

"And what if one of them breaks the other's heart?"

"That's the thin." He looked at her. "And you don't give up then. It's when you need to love them even more."

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: Happy 2021 everyone! Hopefully things are better this year, and everyone stays safe and sound.

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my fics on other platforms without specific written permission. Reblogs are a okay :)

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

My knight in shining armour

Rowaelin month Day 2 - University AU

I literally just finished this. I wasn’t going to write for this prompt but then an idea finally hit me.

The title as usual is bad... sorry

2k words

-----

Aelin had days in which she hated men. That was one of those days.

After finishing high school she decided to took a challenging course at the University of Terrasen. Her dad, before he retired, had been an airforce pilot. She had grown up going around his base, visiting him when he was back. In doing so, she had become obsessed with planes. As she grew up, her dad had let her get friendly with his engineer and the man had started teaching her all she needed to know about aircrafts. From the basic physics to the more obscure detail of how the jet worked. Aelin had been fascinated. She had started reading all the possible books, and as she got older, her dad’s engineer had also started having her to actually help her in the hangar. In the summer when school was out, she would actually get a part-time job as an apprentice at the base and she had loved every moment of it. She had also become very close with the two female pilots and together they had spent time talking about the life of a woman in a boys club. The two women had become her role models very quickly.

Terrasen was quite and open minded country but some ideas were still quite obsolete.

In high school at the question “what you want to be when you grow up?” She always answered an aircraft engineer for the airforce. She never faltered or never doubted. That’s what she wanted to, that was her path.

But when time for uni arrived and she applied for a degree in aeronautical engineering, that’s when she realised that the boys club extended far more than she expected.

She was basically the only woman in the class. None of the guys had approached her and on the first day she had walked in the classroom, one of them had the guts to tell her that the humanities department was in the annex c. She ignored the bastard and sat down at the front. She belonged in that room and she would prove it to every single one of them.

Day after day she had shown her knowledge and surprised her professor who was amazed at the fact that she could answer such in depth questions. Last time it happened, she had turned to Chaol - the asshole who had told her about the annex c, and gave him a smirk. That had removed his stupid grin from his face. It felt amazing.

During a private one-to-one with her professor she had confessed to him she had been working at the airbase as an apprentice during the past three summers. Her teacher had luckily been very supportive and encouraged her to keep up the good work.

Now, six months in, she still hated with a vengeance the arseholes she had to study with. Some of them even had the guts to ask her for some help after they realised she was actually good. She had answered that surely they didn’t want the help of a woman, and walked away.

After another class it was finally lunch time and she was meeting Rowan down at their spot on the grass. They were a couple. He had asked her out in the summer after high school was over and they had been together ever since. He was a med student and he knew her pain about choosing a challenging degree. Both their degrees were very intense and required a lot of time so they would just try and spend as much time together as they could. They had a flat together but the public library was were they spent most of their time.

And when their schedules allowed it, they would enjoy lunch together, venting about their academical choices.

“I fucking hate that bastard.” She raged, dropping her bag on the grass and sitting at his side, depositing a kiss on his lips. She felt better almost immediately, being in his arms was all she needed to feel okay again.

“What did he do now?” Asked Rowan knowing of her struggles in her classes.

Aelin grabbed her bag and pulled out her food, the dinner that Rowan had prepared the previous night and then packed away for both of them.

“The teacher gave us an exercise where we had to design an aircraft with what we had learned so far.” She told him, while munching away her food “He was up first and his project was a effing disaster. Seriously, I’d wouldn’t want to fly on a plane designed by him.” She took a sip of her water “the teacher asked us to say what was wrong and it took me ten minutes to stop. I mean, a two year old would have done a better job with lego bricks.”

Rowan giggled at her side “then my turn came and the bastard had the guts to tell me that the aerodynamics of my plane were off and that my ailerons where wrong as well and would not allow the plane to function properly. I took my laptop and shoved it in his face and told him to find the error in my math. He had no clue.” Her face turned smug “then the teacher took over and said that actually my project was, among all, the only one that could actually fly. I felt smug as fuck.”

Rowan pulled an arm around Aelin’s shoulder and pulled her to him. He was proud of her. Every damn day.

“Then after class, he threw me a paper plane and inside it had a message saying this is the only plane you will ever build or work on. I swear, the guy is still alive only because I am not looking forward to finishing my degree via distance learning from a prison.”

She calmed down “how was your day?”

Rowan leaned back against the tree “I had anatomy and physiology. Today we covered the endocrine system and it must be one most boring of them all.”

“Well,” she added with a big smile “when you cover the reproductive system you are welcome to practice with me…”

He laughed and squished her to her chest “I am a very big fan of your… bits.” She kissed him deeply not caring that they were in public, she wanted him and hated that they had more classes before being able to go home and then alas, study more. Maybe for one evening they could study something different.

“Aelin?”

“Yes, buzzard?”

His tongue gently teased her and she opened for him while his hand brushed off a rebel strand of hair.

He pulled back “Nothing, you had tomato sauce on you lips. I was just wiping it off. Did you think I wanted to kiss you?”

Aelin gently punched him on the shoulder, in return he gave her a massive grin. Rowan was a very reserved man who struggled with stranger, but she had her own version, the goofy one, the one who made jokes and loved to cuddle with her. She would treasure that version forever. That was just for her.

They were busy chatting away and she was showing him on her laptop the exercise she had been working on and her plane prototype and although what she was saying was greek to him, he still listened to her in fascination.

She was telling him how a plane flew and the four forces when a figure stopped in front of them.

“It must be exciting to brag with your boyfriend about your hopeless projects.” Said the man.

Rowan raised his eyes and finally saw the face of the man that had been making Aelin’s life miserable.

“What did you just say?” Rowan stood and towered on the brown-haired man by twenty centimetres. Chaol also looked frail compared to Rowan’s muscular frame.

“Chaol, you’d better go.” Not that she cared about the man, she just didn’t want Rowan to get into trouble for a petty man.

“You’d better give up while you still can, Galathynius. Aeronautical engineering is not a field for a woman.” He crossed his arms at his chest trying to look intimidating but the look in Rowan’s eyes told her it was a useless attempt. Her boyfriend was ready to attack. She knew he had never hit anyone, but had a feeling that if Chaol didn’t stop it could be a first for Rowan.

“Chaol,” she stood as well and growled his name in warning.

“Oh, so you are one of those arseholes who believes that certain jobs can be done only by those who were born with a penis. It’s the fucking 21st century. Grow up, idiot.”

Rowan swore, alarm bells rang in Aelin’s head. He only swore when he was extremely mad, something that her unflappable boyfriend rarely was.

“Oh look, Galathynius, you have a knight in shining armour.”

Aelin moved between Rowan and Chaol, trying to separate them when her boyfriend moved a step closer to the other guy.

Chaol chuckled “Did you sleep with every professor—” but Chaol never finished his sentence. She saw the scene develop in slow motion in front of her. At those words Rowan’s face had turned feral and as on instinct his arm moved and a second later his fist found its target in Chaol’s face.

Rowan then grabbed Chaol by the collar and lifted him up slightly “You take it back, immediately or I’ll smash all the twenty two bones in your skull.”

“Go on,” said Chaol, nursing a broken lips.

Aelin stopped in between and grasped Rowan’s hand gently “Put him down, Ro, he is not worth it.”

Her gaze then turned to Chaol “now you go back to whatever shithole you came from and perhaps go back working on your project and design a real aircraft.” She moved closer to him “I know what the fuck I am doing. And I know I will have a job in the airforce after this. You will just go back being daddy’s little spoiled boy.”

Chaol glared at her and Rowan finally let go of him, bur before he fully released him he pulled the man close enough that his mouth was near his ear “you disrespect her like that one more time and you’ll finish your degree from a hospital bed while sipping your food from a straw.” Rowan flashed his teeth in a threatening gesture “you leave her alone, because if I hear you have been a bastard to her one more time, I will make your life a living hell.” And eventually released him. Chaol shrugged his t-shirt back into place and walked away without adding another word.

Rowan sighed and then turned to her, his expression back being soft as soon as she looked back at him.

“You didn’t have to punch him,” she said while snuggling against his chest. His arms quickly around her.

“Yes I had to. What he said….” She felt him tense up again “he made me so mad, fireheart.”

“Seeing you thump him was very sexy,” she kissed him gently on the lips “my knight in shining armour.”

Rowan chuckled and looked into he blue eyes “you don’t need a knight. You are fierce, brave and strong and do not need any protection,” he added, his lips on her head. Nesting under his chin was her favourite position. They fit perfectly “I, on the other hand, as a male who is hopelessly in love with you, felt the desperate need to avenge the sullied honour of my amazing other half.”

Aelin giggled hard “you really sound like a knight.”

“Come on, Sir Rowan Whitethorn of Wendlyn, let’s finish our lunch, I have an hour of mechanics of flight coming up and I need sustenance.”

“Yes, my queen,” he said kneeling in front of her.

Aelin laughed and kissed him deeply “maybe I can be your queen tonight in bed as well.”

His smirk grew wider and Aelin felt heat pool at her core at his expression.

“Whatever m’lady commands.”

They finished their lunch in peace without any more interruptions and eventually they parted ways, going to their respective classes.

Chaol did not bothered her anymore. He didn’t even met her gaze and him ignoring her was all she asked. She was there to learn, he could just go and sulk in the afterburner of a jet, perhaps while on, for all she cared.

Aelin texted Rowan a thank you and his reply was a simple To whatever end.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #chaol westfall #university au #Throne of Glass series

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allforyoumylovely · 2 years

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Okay, so the idea for this came as a result of me reading The Goldfinch and watching a documentary called The Painter and the Thief. This is basically how the rough storyline looks right now: Sander is a twenty-three-year-old, bleached-haired, up-and-coming artist who at twenty-one tragically lost his mother when she was hit by a car. He has had a complicated relationship with his grief ever since, has felt very numb and closed off to it. His relationship with his dad is even worse, and Sander fled to Florence to take his master’s degree in fine art after an incident between the two of them at home. He starts using his art as a coping mechanism for it all. A few weeks after the opening of his first solo exhibition back in Antwerp, the main piece – a large portrait of his mother – is stolen.

Robbe is twenty-one and part of a small group of art thieves, not entirely by choice, more of a ‘wrong place at the wrong time’ situation. And – you guessed it – he was part of the burglary at Sander’s exhibition. But Robbe has hopes and dreams and longs for a normal life of getting an education and having uni friends and maybe even a boyfriend.

Sander and Robbe meet after Robbe turns himself in, and their relationship blooms from there. So a very angsty but also fluffy au.

I’ve been thinking about this since late summer, but I don’t think I’ll ever write the fic in full. I do, however, want to write a few scenes here and there and post them on here, although they probably won’t be in any chronological order, more by the order they pop into my head. This scene is one of the angstiest of them, I think.

Trigger warnings: grief, mentions of knives and blood (figuratively).

Sander has never let his grief in, has never touched it, never felt he could. His grief has never come in those infamous waves. Instead, it sweeps him away late one random night when he comes home from his studio, tired and bone-weary, and sees his mama’s light blue sweater draped over the backrest of his couch, the way it has been since he moved in. It dawns on him suddenly that it won’t ever take the shape of her arms and shoulders and waist again. And then he realises, fully realises, that he doesn’t have a mama anymore, that he’ll never see her or hear her voice again, that they’re never going to spend another birthday or Christmas together, that he can’t just pick up the phone and call her, that she won’t walk the same leaf-covered streets as him ever again.

And it feels like he’s being stabbed.

Right in the chest.

Straight through his heart and out his back.

And then the pain spreads to his stomach, arms, legs, throat, lungs, everywhere. Every hair follicle, every skin cell, every fibre of his being, claiming absolute power.

And he slumps against the wall, desperate for some support, but the shock buckles his knees, and he yields to the weight of it until he’s merely a pile of limbs on the floor.

And when he touches his chest, he’s surprised that his hand isn’t covered in blood because the feeling of a foreign object in his body is so tangible and vivid. Instead, he bleeds through his eyes; it pours out of him in sobs and heaves, everything he has held onto and locked away for the past two years releases at once.

He knows the sensation of being swallowed whole, of wanting to throw up whenever he passes someone wearing her perfume, but he has never experienced anything of this magnitude; this is more feeling than a person can and is supposed to contain, he thinks. It’s a sort of animal pain, wild and all-consuming, like a cub being taken from its mother too soon. For a few fleeting moments he thinks he won’t survive it, and he finds himself chasing that thought, grasping for the sense of relief it carries.

But when his lungs keep taking in ragged breaths of air for a second more and then another and another and another, he realises that the cruel world has decided to keep him. With his temple pressed against the ice-cold floorboards and the tip of a trembling finger on his wrist, he traces the black, tattooed outlines of the half four-leaf clover, feels his pulse fluttering underneath his skin, its beat obnoxious and persistent and never-ending, and through the knot of feelings that he’s being forced to unravel now, he finds anger towering above all else. Anger at the fact that his heart is the one still pumping blood through veins and keeping a body alive when it should have been hers; that his brain, his ugly, unbalanced brain drew the longest straw when it so obviously should have been her brilliant, clever, normal one.

And it was his own fault. Even his dad has said so.

He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, hard, until stars explode in the darkness, and he chokes on a new surge of tears, wishing everything would stop, just stop stop stop.

His hands act of their own accord, grabbing his phone in his pocket, and it’s a mystery how he manages because he’s blinded by tears, but somehow he finds and presses the number of the only person he can think to call.

“Hey,” Robbe says. Sander can hear his smile. It’s clear in his voice. It’s always so clear in his voice. And somehow that makes his heart hurt even worse.

He tries to speak through the lump taking up all space in his throat, whimpers something unintelligible. It feels like he’s fucking drowning. He barely recognizes himself; he sounds faraway and flat in his own ears, like he’s trapped in a vacuum at the bottom of the ocean.

“Sander?” Robbe’s tone changes. He’s alert now, his senses zeroing in on Sander entirely. “Are you okay?”

“Robbe,” Sander sniffles. And then he says what has been running through his mind a million times over but never been said aloud, never even been put into writing in his journal. “I wish it was me, Robbe. I wish it was me, I wish it was me, I wish it was me.”

Robbe is quiet for a moment, and Sander knows he understands what ‘it’ means. “Sander, don’t–”

But Sander keeps going, has to get it out, has to articulate what has wedged itself deep into his mind for the past couple of years. His voice is hoarse from crying, his throat rough like sandpaper, eyes red, lashes drenched in tears. “I wish it was–“ He can’t control his breathing, his sentences continuously getting cut off by sharp gasps. “I wish– Fuck– I wish it was me who got hit. I wish that I– that I could turn back time and switch places with her and die instead.”

There’s rustling on the other end, arms slipping into a jacket, Sander guesses, feet fumbling to get into shoes, but Robbe’s tone remains collected. “Sander, where are you? Are you home? At your studio?”

The world is blurry at the edges, clearing for nothing more than a second when he blinks before everything loses focus again. “Home,” he thinks he whispers, can’t really hear himself.

A harsh sound of wind blows into Robbe’s phone, and Sander winces, curls into himself, grinds his forehead into the floor and gets sucked into a place in himself that he has never been before, a place so deep and dark and boundless that he won’t get out without help.

“Is your door locked?” Robbe asks.

Did he lock his door? How did he even get home? Where does he live? Sander tries to remember. He tries to remember a lot of things: how his mama’s arms felt around him when she hugged him, the exact sound of her voice, not the tinny one on videotape or through phone speakers, but the voice that would soothe him as a child when he scraped his knees and as an adult when the hurt went much deeper. But he can’t.

“I can’t remember her anymore, Robbe,” he says instead, his voice wet and throaty.

There are clicks of gears shifting in the background. Robbe is on his bike now, still sounding so gentle. “Sander, please stay on the phone with me, okay? I’m with you in five minutes.”

Sander closes his eyes, weak and heavy-limbed and out of breath, and behind his eyelids it’s dark as a tomb, as ravens and soot. But then his brain starts unlocking jumbled, fragmentary memories from a place within him that, until then, has been guarded by a cold creature all ash and teeth and deadly night shade:

an orange sundress in summer rain

the words hi, sleepyhead pressed against his three-year-old cheek when he would climb into her bed on Sunday mornings

rich, dark hair flowing and flickering in the light of a clear sky

her protective hand smoothing up and down his back at the psychiatrist’s office

her bright green eyes when she would pick him up and they would sway

we could be heroes, just for one day

He’s not aware of time or his surroundings until a familiar hand brushes over his arm and hair. His phone slips out of his fingers and lands somewhere by his throat. Robbe, devastatingly beautiful and warm Robbe who only wants to help, lies down on the floor with him, but Sander doesn’t turn around, he just stays where he is, his front facing the wall, and he can’t stand himself for it, can’t stand himself at all, really. He desperately wants to curl into Robbe’s arms and just melt into him, into the hollows of his collarbones, the sweet smell of his skin, and the chambers of his heart because he knows they’re more humane places than his own reality. But he doesn’t know how.

Instead, it feels like his tears and cells and bone marrow that once were an actual part of her seep through the tiny cracks in the wooden floorboards down to the concrete two floors beneath him, or tangle in the blue cashmere threads of her sweater, or fling themselves aimlessly into the tiny liquid water droplets of grey autumn fog, the chloroplast of clover, the electromagnetic waves of the gleam of lamppost light, to wherever she may be now. He’s seeking and seeking and seeking, his body unable to understand that his mama doesn’t physically exist anymore.

His grief is not jet-black like he once believed; it’s steel-silver and blood red; it’s a knife slicing him open.

#artist and thief au

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bangtanpromptsfics · 3 years

Text

pyxis.

dialogue prompt #9: “Cheer up it's Christmas Eve, sweetheart”

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: christmas au, brother's best friend au, fluff, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 3,412 (oh no)

warnings: reader is a lil sad but nothing angsty tho

summary: christmas was always an eager wait. less for the tree decorations, family dinner and the fuss of toddlers. more for your childhood best friend who you kissed under a mistletoe years back.

a/n: ahhh!!! I'm not completely satisfied with how this turned out to be. the inspiration was from a few christmas themed fics I read here and the movie ‘It's Christmas, Eve’. anyway this was my attempt though it's nowhere near christmas time. one of my personal goals is to celebrate a christmas like the west, the snow, the fuss and the commotion ;-;. Also I lost sense of time and space and this turned out to be 3k ;-;

masterlist

“Cheer up it's christmas eve, sweetheart”, your mother chimes as she pours brown batter into little cupcake moulds.

You simply smile at her, the festive mood not really getting to you because of exhaustion. Uni was tough, and enjoying this Christmas when you know you have tons of essays due in a few days was hammering inside your brain every now and then.

“Is that chocolate?”, you ask, leaning your tired body on the counter where she is at work.

“And orange”, she smiles, turning around to preheat the oven.

“Where's Jin”. Though you hated the routinely flicks against your forehead, the absence of your big brother felt weird.

“He went with Jimin to get the Christmas tree”.

The mention of Jimin brings a smile to your face. His soft features and captivating grin filling your head. If there was one of the few things you enjoyed coming back to your hometown for holidays, it's chocolate cupcakes your mom bakes and Jimin.

His family are friends with yours after all. You, Jin and Jimin attended the same school until college and other priorities in life drift you apart. Though the bond must have rusted a bit, you can't deny the fact that you still have that crush which started somewhere in middle school, on a chritmas eve like this when he kissed your cheeks shyly under the mistletoe. Your friends and family, and even Jimin himself must have seen it nothing more than platonic, but you still find yourself relieving the moment in your head however crazy it may sound.

Standing up straight, you decide to fix your bed hair and complete the skincare routine before the said duo drops.

“Mrs. Y/L/n...”, Jimin softly kicks the back door. He is carrying one end of a huge fir, and your brother on the other end, grunting from the freezing snow outside.

“Oh dear place it right there”, you mother is quick to her feet helping the boys and doing her usual commentary on how well the tree looked.

Jimin looks more handsome than ever, especially with his nose and cheeks dusted in scarlet from the cold. He looks really huggable in his fluffy sweaters and red beanie. Jin is busy commanding around so you choose to sit back, a very typical sibling energy and the size of decoration boxes and the tree itself not really appetizing to your will to find any strength.

“Hey Y/n!”, Jimin stares back at your eyes in a split moment which has your lashes fluttering suddenly. You probably look like you are carrying a disease and right now you become very hyper aware of that.

“You alright? You look tired”, he comments. You feel his eyes carefully studying the black under your eyes and worrying his mind because that's what he is like. He cares about everyone and everything, has a heart so soft it hurts to even think about it.

“Jet lag...”, you say, “I'll be fine”. You shoot a little thumbs up on his way to reassure.

“Why didn't Jin get the tree earlier? It's Christmas in a few hours”, you dodge the focus around you and walk near in an attempt to closely examine the tree for no reason other than feeling Jimin’s eyes a little too long on you.

Your brother gets visibly annoyed seeing you start a very unnecessary talk. So he is completely obliged to shoot back with, “Because you were in charge of Christmas decorations this year but your lazy ass flew down here only yesterday”.

“You know I was busy with Uni!”

“Whatever”, he shrugs, getting back to the box of tree decorations. You feel a little bad seeing yourself not being helpful during a festive season. It felt like you were procrastinating on your responsibilities as always.

“Um...is there any way I can help?”, you ask softly, earning a mischievous grin from Jin and your mom fills in the answer.

“We need more baubles. Also I missed out gifts for Aerum and June, so maybe you can get them”. Now this was already tiring and you were not lying earlier either, the jet lag was still choking you alive. You wonder if the huge pile of stars and glitters beside your foot aren't enough but then maybe it's true because this is the largest fir you ever saw for Christmas in your house. And speaking of the five year old notorious duo, your cousins-- Aerum and June, you have no other option than to step out into the butt numbing cold and get something for the sake of not getting your brains eaten.

While you stand there doing these calculations, Jimin puts a two and two and immediately suggests to tag along with you.

“That'd be great! Thanks sweetie”, your mom chimes, her fine lines of face gathering around her eyes while she does so and you catch her throwing a wink to your side and you pretend you never saw that.

“Thank you Jimin”, you smile in all honesty while he reciprocates the same.

“No problem. I'll get my car. Will you be ready in an hour? I think you just woke up”

“Uh...yeah”, you fake a laugh, “Yes I'll be ready in an hour”

Jimin still lives here in your hometown, attends a community college nearby and his house is just a few steps away from your own. You remember how you had the same analogy in your mind as well. You like living here. You like Jimin’s company. The lake Park and the annual ice skating competition in December and the bookstores and coffee shops at the outskirts of the town. And you can't seem to clearly remember when and where that feeling started to become foreign. Maybe it was a teenage quirk to explore the world that you are now a three hour flight away from all of this. It wasn't a deep regret, but seeing Jimin, it almost felt like it. It felt like you betrayed him. Because he seemed to be keeping his word to this day.

This year, it's a few degrees lower than what it usually is and you find yourself chattering your teeth together as you walk to Jimin’s house.

His footsteps rush to get the door as soon as you ring the doorbell and he greets with the same wide grin as if he hasn't just saw you an hour ago.

“Let's go?”, he asks immediately, getting house keys from his coat pocket and locking the front door before stepping out making you confused.

“There's no one home? Where are your parents?”

“Oh well didn't Mrs. Y/L/n tell you?”, he studies your features and gets his response so he continues “They went to New York this year for Christmas. It's some elder people thing I think...so I'll be spending Christmas this year with your family”

“Really!?”, you chime, and then immediately notice a very childish jump you did with tiny fists and all, feeling a little embarrassed at yourself, “Ah... uh I mean that's great”.

“Yeah”, he giggles, sounding like a twelve year old who is still waiting for his growth spurt, “Get in the car it's freezing in here”.

Since it's been six odd months you've spoken to Jimin, you figured it would would be strange and awkward to be with him, but his demeanor states otherwise. He could effortlessly begin conversations and build momentum with you and by the time you are at a thrift store, he is aware of the little gist of student life and the dramatically exaggerated history research paper still due.

“What are you getting for the twins?”, he asks, seeing you checking out the kids toys section with absolutely no idea and that's exactly what you reply to him.

“How about this puzzle?”, he brings a big jigsaw to your glance and you figure it's a great thing to have their little brains engaged and give yourself time to breathe.

“It's perfect!”, you add, immediately placing it your cart with a few decors you picked up from earlier aisles.

Jimin places an extra pack of Christmas candies in the cart, and you send him a questionable look knowing it's his way of bribing the kids coming this evening. He puts too much effort into people's happiness, something you wish you were capable of as well.

The shopping went smooth. It was therapeutic to get hot chocolate with extra marshmallows afterwards like he insisted followed by that very cliche movie scene where one of them develops a creme moustache and the other notices and dabs it off.

You want this moment to linger a little longer, but your whole family arrives in less than two hours and the decorations were due. If Jin doesn't have you in the next thirty minutes he might as well eat all the cupcakes your mom is baking as revenge.

“I had a great time”, Jimin states as he stops the car in front of your house, stealing the words from your mouth and warmth hugs your cheeks immediately.

“Me too. It's been long since we spent time with each other”

You hear a lone sigh with white fogs coming out of his plump lips while he does so, as if he were suddenly sad when you mentioned that.

“Are you okay?”

His grips tightens around the steering, “I've missed you”, he says, eyes meeting slowly. And as if he was suddenly pulled back to earth he conjures another sentence to not sound so vulnerable.

“I uh... It's just--”

“I've missed you too”

Even with the gear box painstakingly blocking the way, you throw your upper half towards his body anyways and you find him hugging you back. His hugs still feel the same from years back; safe and warm and filled with love.

If it wasn't for the constant reminder that your brother is probably plotting a murder against you, you would've stayed much longer in his embrace. Maybe the hug was a big straightforward for a bond still gradually blooming, but it didn't feel weird at all and when you pull back he is smiling down at you.

“I thought you two lovebirds flew off”, a very annoyed Jin states from above you. He is balancing himself on a chair to attach the mistletoe to the ceiling.

“Sorry hyung”, Jimin says. And somehow now you are getting super aware of the way your family is low key shipping you both. Not that it's an irritating thing of course though you seem to act like it. But you have no idea what's going on with Jimin, what if he said he missed you as your childhood friend? It's a lot difficult to segregate his priority of giving affection. He seems to be giving justice in terms of care for every living being he knows.

“The circus is on its way so I hope you both hurry with putting up everything together”, the voice above states, now lowering himself to ground after putting up the twig.

Three of you giggle at the mention of your family as a circus. Well in a way it definitely was. You have a bunch if uncles who crack awful jokes, a trait Jin himself as picked up from a tender age of ten. Then their wives and kids who share certainly the same braincells in comprehending things. You bet they'll ask you again about your major and your dating history once they walk in through that door amidst clearly stating everytime that you are a history major and yes still very single.

In the hallway there is a half decorated tree. A thread of fairly lights wrapped around the green and very few baubles hanging here and there.

“I'll put up the star and join you”, Jimin says, digging out a golden star from the carton. Though now he doesn't know why it was a good idea for him to announce that when both of you were almost the same height. He is just a few centimeters taller than you and the top of the fir is still very much way above your heads.

So with a chuckle you both figure Jin has to do it.

“This is your final year right?”, Jimin asks stepping closer to you. He seemed nervous about something. Or was it anxious?

“Yeah...you?”

“Yeah...”, his sweet tone was drawn almost like a whisper and you sense you should ask him further about what's wrong. But before you had to deal with a starter he continues,

“Are you planning to work in Chicago as well?”

“Sweetheart help me clean up the kitchen please”, your hear your mom's voice overpowering through the house. Which is good. Because you don't know what you are supposed to answer. It was as if he was almost hopeful that you'll choose your hometown all over again. But you aren't sure. So you take the opportunity to step away from the situation excusing yourself.

And while you are clearing the blobs of batter stuck on the counter, your mind is a haywire. What are you going to do? Though you know your whole family wants you to stay, it's still a foggy place to be in. Four years apart in another city as a college student has not provided much, except caffeine addiction and sleepless nights. Things were not even as fun as everyone told you.

A few steps away Jimin silently prays that you stay, because he had truly missed you. Even though you have outgrown from the eighteen year old shell as he had known, he finds himself actively choosing to be with you. Even when other things in life occupies his mind, there's an element of it which goes back to you.

“They are here!”. You groan silently, while your parents are throwing their hands in air, giggles and chatter fills in as your uncles and aunts and the taunting toddlers welcome themselves in.

“Y/n! You have grown so much!”, the older aunt comments, and you supply a manufactured smile to tag along. Other comments follow by soon, about how tired you are, gasps about not having a partner and future plans, all of which are not completely answerable at the moment but you manage to get through them all and finally excusing yourself back to the garage convincing there are more decor supplies in there.

Families are nice. They make festivals brighter and lives less lonely. But yours was just hard sometimes. Not that you completely loathed the people now fueling themselves off the cup cakes your mom bakes, you were just merely lost, still yet to come up with an answer to what your stance is after graduation.

“Hey...”. Jimin has joined you now which you notice feeling a warmth against your shoulder when he sits, with an extra scraf knowing the garage is still comparatively chilly than the house, “you okay?”.

“Yeah...I was just...thinking”

“Is this about earlier? I'm sorry if I made you anxious”, he quickly adds.

“No!...I mean yeah but, it's high time I find a ground with this. What are your plans?”

“I was thinking about teaching at Jefferson High”, he shifts rather uncomfortably. He is talking of the school in your town, your school, where you have lots of memories with Jimin, “You know...like we said during Junior year in high school?”

“I'm sorry Jimin”, you feel the guilt inside you growing, “I never kept my promises”.

“Hey...that's okay! Everyone changes. I just want you to be happy. I...I hope you are happy Y/n”, he reassures, taking your hand from your side and squeezing it between his soft palms.

“I don't know about that either...”

As much as you hated showcasing vulnerability to another person, you know Jimin is an exception. You had cried to him about everything during school days and he had never invalidated a single thing, even when you were visibly dramatic over a downpour during a family picnic when you were five.

Jimin is frozen on his seat as if he can't find the words. He was never good with words so instead he hugs you, a little longer than the last time till he is sure you have calmed down. Grateful for not ending up crying, you smile up at him and remind yourselves to get back inside to avoid suspicion, especially from the kids who take humiliating people as an important milestone to achieve.

When you enter back inside and get immediately surrounded by a million questions and chores thrown at you, you find your answer. Maybe your heart belongs back to everything your younger self had blabbered about. Not to mention, this fairly good reunion with your crush feels nice, though, he might still see it as platonic. Maybe he makes things less daunting.

By the way Jimin was owning everyone's heart in the house, it felt like he was family. Well in a way he is. But to put more clarity, he bought things together and his actions bought so much peace and love within everyone. Even the notorious twins listen carefully to him and help the uncles and aunts in the kitchen.

He is again by your side, two cupcakes rests on his palms and you take it with a silent ‘thanks’.

Seeing no signs of him beginning a talk now, you think of coming up with something. Maybe a memoir from today? Or about how absolutely handsome he looks right now? Wait.

“They are under the kissing twig!”, Aerum screams like the house caught in fire, her sibling joining by the side to provoke the habit even more.

“It's called a mistletoe Aerum”, your aunt corrects before pasting a smug across her lips.

Nothing changed. They are the same people. Hyping you and Jimin to kiss just like when you were thirteen. If the factor of time is removed, this is the exact night. Both of you cemented to the flooring as if you forgot to exist.

Both of your necks snap together to the mistletoe Jin had attached to the ceiling earlier. And when you lower your gaze back, face gawks at each other eye to eye. It's the same. He has that blush, the shyness from years ago. It's going to be platonic. Yet again. And this moment will only ever be romantic and flowery in your head.

June was the first to squeak, and Aerum shuts her eyes the moment Jimin is leaning his mouth towards your lips. It was difficult to relax under the stares of many, but when he ghosts his mouth over your again and leans in for a second kiss, you are fixated on him. Hands holding each other, the plump of his lips so soft it felt like you were biting into a fluff of cloud.

Maybe he'll have an explanation to your family for this. Not like anyone in the audience was disappointed. Your mother was almost in tears? And Jin looked hardly surprised with any of this. As if it was all swell according to his plans.

“You both are so cute”, one of the aunts awes and your mother is quick by her side, completely agreeing to it.

“Jimin...”, you return your gaze to the equally flustered man who just kissed you and he sounded almost breathless,

“I'm sorry if this was wrong it ju--”

“I like you”, you immediately snap in and his face is a void for an instant. Fully processing the words, his eyes disappear when he grins, “I like you too...a lot”.

“Are you two dating?”, the twins haven't dropped the case yet, running to your feet to help their curious brains.

“Yes...”, Jimin responds, looking up at you for a reassurance, which you quickly supply with a nod, “Yes we are dating”.

When the kids are satisfied they go away snickering to themselves.

“I decided to stay”, you say.

“Really!?”, his disbelief was comical, yet wholesome considering how much he wished for this, “I'm...I'm so happy!”.

Giggling at him, this time you lean forward and peck the corner of his lips.

“You lovebirds better get a room”, Jin announces and thankfully not loud enough to catch everyone else's attention.

Usually Jin expects a punch to his arms from his sister, but he sees how grateful you are for his mistletoe decor. He leaves the couple, satisfied that there won't be any more ranting about how much Jimin likes you.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

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kuroopaisen · 3 years

Text

09:03 am || iwaizumi hajime

➵ iwaizumi can’t find his favourite jumper.

wc: 831

warnings: implied f!reader? maybe? can be linked to tiny love if you so desire

a/n: yue my love, this one’s for you. i’m not sure if you’ll see this, but if you do, i hope you’ll enjoy (sorry it’s shorter hhh). i value and appreciate your honesty and how willing you are to discuss and stand up for your thoughts. believe it or not, but i’ve learnt a lot from you. and, most of all, thank you for not only sharing these things with me, but also for supporting me in turn. i adore you and your feral racoon energy dksjklfdj

Iwaizumi likes to think that he’s good with the cold. He rarely complains about it – he rarely complains about anything, actually – and he’s done plenty of morning runs to know what cold really feels like.

But even he’s susceptible to a chilly five degrees. And the one thought running through his head during his jog back from his morning classes is that he really, really should’ve brought a jumper.

His warmest jumper was a good six years old, bought absentmindedly at the beginning of a particularly cold winter. It’s only grey, and so well-worn that the inner lining was soft as that Godzilla plush he’d coveted when he was six (not that he let anyone know about that). Iwaizumi isn’t the type to get too attached to physical things, but there’s something about that jumper that rooted a deep attachment to it in his mind.

Maybe he felt it symbolised something. Maybe all the memories he’d had in it had weaved themselves amongst the cheap fabric. Wither way, there was something sentimental about it.

After all, it had persisted through half a decade, and proved itself worthy enough to fly across the Pacific Ocean with him.

Twice. He’s gone through the laundry twice. And not a peep of that beloved grey sweater.

He sighs, rising to full height. There’s no chance he left it at uni, is it? No, but he didn’t take it to this morning… And he’d seen it the other night. He knows he put it in the wash.

He grunts, stalking out the laundry with clenched fists. How hard was it to find one jumper? Sure, any other jumper would do, but now it was about the principle.

He frowns as he approaches your door, not quite sure what he’s planning to ask you. Maybe you’ll have a more observant eye than him, if possible.

He knocks on your door thrice, as he always does.

“Come in!” You call, your voice light and cheerful. He’s glad, at least, that you seem to be having a good day.

He opens your door with a sigh, stepping into your exceedingly warm room. Your little heater appears to be working overtime, planted next to your desk but somehow emanating throughout the entire room.

You swivel round on your chair, eyes round and curious as you look at him.

Iwaizumi’s breath catches in his throat.

You’re perched on your seat with your knees drawn up to your chest, tucked under… his jumper.

Oh fuck. Oh shit.

“Everything okay?” You ask, tilting your head at him.

That just made you cuter. Shit—

“Uh, nothing,” he shakes his head.

“You sure?” You blink at him, a little baffled.

He wants to curse himself out.

You shouldn’t be so cute, just sitting there. You’ve made no effort to look ‘nice’, with messy hair and bags under your eyes, but somehow that adds to your charm.

But you’re gazing at him so innocently, in his jumper, like there’s nothing strange about it. And perhaps it is, in your mind. But his heart is saying otherwise. You look like you belong in it; like this is something so natural, so expected that he shouldn’t even so weird about this.

“Yeah,” he says, suddenly remembering that you’d asked him a question. “Good luck with your work.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

His ribs feel like they’re about to crack.

He nods, turning around. You’re out of sight, but you’re certainly not out of mind. He can tell that image of you in his sweater, as innocuous as anything and certainly not as big a deal as his body is making it out to be, will plaster itself at the back of his mind for a long time to come.

An ill-advised thought zips through his mind as he leaves. He stops at the threshold of your room, his back still turned to you.

You frown a little. Is everything okay?

I’m a weak, weak man, he thinks to himself. The heat in your room is unbearable now, but his desire to say the next few words are even more so.

“Keep it,” he says, looking at you over his shoulder. “It looks good on you.”

The words would’ve been enough for you to combust on the spot.

But it’s the little smirk that really does it.

Has your room always felt this warm? Or is it finally time to turn your heater down? Because your face feels really, really hot. A ‘I need to dump my head into a bucket of ice’ kind of hot.

You hadn’t intended to steal his jumper. It was just the first thing you’d found in the laundry this morning that was clean and looked warm. You’d planned to put it back before he got back from university; you’d just lost track of time.

But it’s yours now, apparently; even though it smells so much like him. That was one of the reasons you’d absentmindedly picked it up.

Oh, shit.

You’ve got it bad.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #tiny love #fluffvember 2020

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jiminrings · 4 years

Note

hellooo can i request a drabble of uni!au art major tae and biochem major yn? also part one of the would you series is AMAZINGGG seriously i cant wait to read more!! <3

rich kid kim

pairing: taehyung x y/n

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: tae’s cold and probably needs a friend more than he needs a model, y/n feels this nEED to take care of him, a term of enderment then a dash of emotional constipation and a sprinkle of jealousy :D

notes: thank you for the request babes!! writing this made my heart melt and aND!!! thank you omg i’m glad you like would you :((

if you squint or if you’ve read insufferable, this is most probably taehyung and his y/n!!!

taehyung is personally more than willing to pay himself out of this project

oKAY LISTEN

he’s not the proudest knowing that he comes from a rich family and he’s the only kid and he’s never really struggled for much

everything was just given to him without any hesitations whatsoever

and yeah he admits that he can nEVER admit that his pampered and luxurious lifestyle since birth has shaped him to be this way and it’s hard to unlearn these types of things

things were too easy for him and thAt’s what made it hard

tae is the farthest thing from an outcast..,.,.,.,

.,.,. but that’s him in his usual rich boi bubble of elites wherever he goes because he’s surrounded by people like him

hoseok and jimin have got to be his closest friends but of course they pursued business degrees and everyone must’ve probably saw that coming

nobody, however, expected the kim taehyung to pursue a degree based rootly on passion and even major in it

yeah that’s right what are yOU looking at???

he’s an art student and yeah he’s taking this seriously ://

do yOU have a problem with that?? do you?? no what did you say?? step the fuck up ky-

spoiler alert: people do have a problem with that

taehyung could tell that his parents did a complete 180 when they learned through jimin’s noisy-ass mouth (not even through their own son) that he’s gonna be getting an art degree

his dad’s the one who’s most especially disappointed at him because well he’s the only child and uhhhh.,.,.,, so who’s gonna inherit the company now.,.,,,

tae normally feels selfish and this time, he felt like he was being rational rather than being selfish!! this is what he passionately wants!! pls god can i be selfish oNE more time

eventually his parents had no choice because as their son explained,, having an art degree won’t keep him away from the family business at all and he could even expand it!! he doesn’t need a degree!!!

lmao he’s been putting the money he gets on the stock market ever since he was ten years old

and they had to accept it eventually because this is what HE wants and if this is the only thing that he wants... then might as well help him through it, right??

now this is another dilemma

taehyung’s applied at a regular university in which everyone’s blended together and no one really cares about who’s who

it’s not exclusive to people like him.

he submitted his requirements and his portfolios by himself!!

and he got accepted!!

he’s nOT SURE if it’s purely because of his skills and himself and not his parents’ money nor influence

whatever it is, he doesn’t want to know because if it ends up being the answer he doesn’t want?? lol he’d crawl into a hole and mope for a week and would be doomed to wear three-piece suits for the rest of his life

so anyways

yeah..,, this is one of the handful of times that taehyung is completely willing to pay himself out

this project was supposed to be easy enough as what the professor said but uH he’d like to passive-aggressively decline pls and thank you

their final project was to make a portrait

right?? easy!!

a portrait of sOMEONE IN CAMPUS,,, regardless if you know them or not

(( well of course you’d get to know them by the end because yea they’re required to show proof that they indeed met and the model did agree to be painted ))

and by the end of the project, it’s either they keep it to themselves or give it to the model!!

that should be easy, right??

...

....

...... pls say right

oh my god tae should probably drop out now so he doesn’t get to do this

rich people don’t necessarily have to be educated, right???? maybe he’ll just settle into being a himbo

he learned about the meaning of the word through urban dictionary that he tHEN only learned about like six months ago and now he gets so many things

taehyung’s not intimidated by the workload of it all -- in fact, he’s even excited about it because it helps him relax!!

what he’s intimidated about is the fact that he’s kim taehyung and there are only two possible options

either his model would be someone who knows him and would be taking every possible step to ensure that they climb the social ladder through him and they’re not even gonna be dISCREET about it

his model wouldn’t completely care about who he is and in the process belittles him upfront and tbh his hart wouldn’t be able to take that and he’s probably wipe his tears away with dollar bills

there is almost no in-between, that one he’s sure of

so why are you like this?

why are you neither of the two and why are you sO kind and go against his expectations????

do you have an ulterior motive or something????

you who’s a biochem major and is actually another building away from his own

you who’s made the initiative that you become hIS model

you who actually oFFERED and almost begged to be a part of a project that would only be for tae’s benefit

... aha

that’s about -5 points from being a cool laid-back nonchalant gal

+10 for looking like someone who’s had a massively obsessive crush on him since day one and looking like you’d lay his life for him

no but lmao actually you just learned about taehyung in a magazine

you were bored at the dentist’s and scrolled through every possible outlet in your phone and it didn’t satiate you anymore!!! so how about reading a good ol’ magazine :D

then came taehyung

it was a whole issue dedicated to him and you were probably too dedicated into reading it that this time it was you telling the dentist to wait lol

that’s as far as you knew about him

and then you learned just some weeks ago that taehyung happens to study where you also study at and that was.,., inch resting

you never really saw him before around campus because it was too big and well maybe if you put in the effort, you’d actually find him

maybe you had a tiny lil admiration for kim taehyung just from one whole issue alone you read at the dentist’s or whatever

you’ve only known about this final project situation through changbin!!!

changbin, your neighbor at the apartment next to you, who’d crash over whenever his wifi feels the tiniest bit slow

yes you did spend a little more money to upgrade your internet situation (most times it’s the router who makes all the difference) because you were so tIRED of having things slow in the middle of researching for your projects in biochem)

no you will nOT have that <3

and of course changbin’s not having your that shitty wifi either so he pushed you to get that in the first place so he can use it too lmao

he’s told you just a couple of days ago about his final project and that maybe, just maybe, he’d make it into a move for this girl that he likes

nothing’s more romantic than pleading for someone to paint ur face right

and your grade and the decision to whether you’re gonna pass or flunk and graduate or retake are relying on you mostly

and in changbin’s case it’s also hIS heart on the line so yeah no pressure at all luv

“i kinda feel bad for rich kid kim, y’know?”

“what about taehyung???”

“eW do you have a crush on him??”

“addressing someone by their name equals to a crush??????”

your banters never stop because you’re as quick-witted as him and he both loves and hates it

he loves that omg someone can keep up with him and that way he gets challenged to always have the last say!!

he hates that oh god why is he friends with someone who reminds him of himself so much how is hE gonna deal with that??

sometimes he’ll purposely argue with you to fEEL something lmao

but there’s just something here that tells him you’re a little more interested now in this flow of conversation ever since rich kid kim was mentioned

“hm, nothing. i’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a model yet.”

he dodges you in the kitchen to look for peanut butter in your cupboard and oddly... you’re not berating him for decreasing your groceries....?

what does changbin mean by that? whAt model?? model as in taehyung doesn’t have the newest model of whatever car he wants? or maybe he has a model girlfriend and-

hold on wait wHAT

taehyung has a-

“m-model?”

he looks at you weirdly but you don’t even bat an eye when he gets ahold of your marshmallow spread so that he could make another one of his s’mores sandwiches

“uhhhh model as in he doesn’t have someone to paint for our project??”

is that what you wanted to hear or,.,

you and changbin share one (1) brain cell and it SHOWS

the two of you have to open your mouths, then close, then ponder, and then do that aGAIN until the both of you could finally grasp if you were in the same page

“oh cool!! i’ll be his model then!”

“yeah but did he ask”

“it’s gonna be easy!! i’ll just tag along with you to your building”

“yeah but did he aSK”

“we’re probably gonna hit it off instantly and then you’ll have to leech off from someone else for their wifi and food and every other necessity that you already have-”

“yeah but dID HE ASK????”

long-story short: no. taehyung most certainly did not ask you to be his model.

but here you are

saying that you came a long way is a bit of a stretch because taehyung mostly turns his head the other way around when you call out to him in public

progress is still progress :D

you’re eating lunch with him at the same table and this time you’re sat beside him!! when normally he’d just walk home to his apartment (lol that’s not allowed but you won’t be surprised to know that he has a free pass) and eat!!!

before that, taehyung would gLARE at you until you stop asking to sit with him in his table

yea he gets a bit lonely at time because jimin and hobi aren’t with him and hE’S the outcast but he won’t do anything about it,, just scroll through his phone while he eats and tune everyone out

you figured that maybe it’s changbin always linked with you in lunch because your schedules just matched up thAt perfectly like it does with tae’s

hee-hee so you might have elbowed him until he begrudgingly agreed to be tolerable, keep atleast four feet of distance from you, and not call tae rich kid kim

spoiler alert: taehyung doesn’t really care about whatever you do because doing those changes with changbin did nOT work at all

however

H O W E V E R

taehyung doesn’t know at all how you’ve wormed your way into his heart!!

what seem to be cold to you is his warmest he’s ever been in such a new environment and outside of his usual comfort bubbles!!!

it’s like you occasionally stealing the food from his plate when you have the same thing is the equivalent of h*lding h*nds with him

you putting your leg over his before he pushes it after five seconds mUST be the equivalent to marriage

wait he’s lying

taehyung does know how you’ve wormed your way to his heart

“hi! i’m y/n! :D”

ok u are a little bit sweaty and out of breath from doing all that fast-paced walking for the past ten minutes

your new shoes that you still need to break into further aren’t helping your situation in the slightest bit

honestly? this is all changbin’s fault <3

he unknowingly gave you the sign that you were looking for

if he says yeah five times with five minutes?? okay yeah you’re definitely looking for kim taehyung and offering yourself to become his model

you don’t wanna sound weird but you feel sorry for him and you wanna help him :((

he’s not helping you tho because he has long legs underneath those trousers and it looked like he wouldn’t budge at all not unless you jogged and stopped right in front of him

“hi! i’m y/n!! :D”

“...”

“.....”

tae’s a bit... perplexed

because who’s THIS entity and why are you standing in front of him

...

....

“bye y/n.”

he wants to exit from this situation because oh my god??

why r u like this

he didn’t ASK for your name!!

and he doesn’t even know you and giving him your name honestly won’t do anything and he doesn’t get what’s your motive and-

“oh c’mon!! you didn’t even shake my hand :((”

he feels even more lost as he tries to wrap his head around that uh.....

you uh.... you wanted a handshake??

.....

tae doesn’t even hide his annoyance because it’s clear as day!!!

he’s blatantly tilting his head at you rudely with a blank stare omg take the hint pLEASE

realizing it now you mAY have came on too strong to taehyung that looks confused as ever

“hi, i’m y/n.”

changbin’s by one of the lockers taking pics of you beaming at taehyung and him scowling down to show you later how dumb you look and how you shouldn’t do this at all

okay LISTEN

his personality trait is to immediately assume the worst out of every scenario possible and that way when something slightly less worse happens? that’s a win babie ;D

he became ur friend in the first place because you heard him yelling since he’s at the door right next to yours and you could hEAR him throwing things around as he cusses his laptop

yeah he cusses his laptop what about it??

if you close your eyes hard enough, you could hear him throw his router against the wall (you later learned that he was so close to finishing his digitalization but then his laptop decided to die) before punching the air

(( the friendship started when you knocked vERY gently and offered him to borrow your laptop even if you aren’t done with all your homework ))

((( changbin thought at first that u were such an organized and too-friendly social butterfly who’s a kiss-ass to everyone but now he thinks ur the coolest person ever and he treasures you more than life itself )))

although, taehyung’s a lot more vicious and closed-off and critical than changbin

he narrows his gaze at you as you introduce yourself for the second time before merely clicking his tongue

“ok cool”

is that uhm

is that IT good sir

“you’re not,” you’re dancing around your words and being careful to not let a pout grace your lips at the sheer lack of enthusiasm, “gonna introduce yourself to me??”

you got a reaction alright

taehyung sCOFFS and that’s the loudest he’s ever been with you in the span of two minutes

“you followed me for ten minutes just to tell me your name. kinda seems like you already know mine if you do that, no?”

this is why you took up biochem instead of law

how do the lawyers not break down???

why does phoenix wright make it seem SO easy?? especially when he’s spoken to in a confrontal tone???

oh god taehyung broke you already

not to be rude but uh what do you wANT

can you get it over already??

“o-oh! uhm i was wondering if i could uHm,” you sound ridiculous now that you think about it and this is perhaps one of the only times you feel embarrassed, “volunteer to be your model for your project?”

hmm

was that a wrong answer,,,

sHOULD YOU HAVE SAID THAT??

“are you in my class?”

taehyung asks and he’s finally said a sentence to you!!! omg

you’re quite shocked so he had to click his tongue to get you to answer

“no, actually!! i’m a biochem major and-...”

that’s all it takes before he hums and nods his head

and for some reason taehyung looks at you like you’re pREY

“are you a stalker?”

okay wait holy fuck wHAT

you know what

you took a sip from changbin’s coffee half an hour ago but why are you only choking on it nOW

you’re positively sputtering and now ur pressured bc tae thinks you’re a stalker!!! a damn stalker!!

“looked at you long enough. i don’t need a sketch artist and i could just-”

no no no pls no

this meeting is going downhill very quickly

“oh my god taehyung i’m nOT a stalker okay!!!”

that shuts him up because your voice is so firm and okAY then how do u explain this stalker smh ://

throughout the whole time you’re talking about changbin being an art major and also your neighbor and everything in between, tae has such a neutral expression that you feel so intimidated

“-and that’s what!! i’m not taking advantage of you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking i guess? i swear!!”

he listened and well if he’s being honest,,, okay yea you did make sense and he does know changbin

“okay then. i’ll think about it.”

“are you gonna give me your number???”

it’s either you’re so forward or he’s just not used to being caught off-guard

WHICH FUCKING ONE

“what for?”

it’s been so long ever since someone asked taehyung for his number

usually in galas and any other socialite gatherings you could think of, everyone’s number would just be in your phone automatically and you won’t even rEMEMBER how it got there in the first place

better yet, it’s been so long since he went back to his usual routine lifestyle of being himself

his last gala was two weeks ago and tae had to keep looking at his phone to study pdfs and whatever clear pictures he can get of his reviewers back at home because he had a test tomorrow morning

“so you could text me where we’re gonna meet so you could paint me, silly!!”

okay wOAH there

“i didn’t even say that you’d be my model????”

“lol but you were thinking it huh”

that’s it

taehyung has nO choice but to paint you if he wants to finish this project and graduate and have something of a thicker paper to flaunt

it came as a shock to him that hE took your offer and he could only imagine its effect on you

not to brag but tae didn’t even have to sweat for a little because it’s yOU who came to him with this offer!! not him!!

tae lives in the classiest apartment here in uni and everyone probably knows that

much to his insistence that he doesn’t want anyone from uni going outside his apartment, he had to take an L and invite you over

he wouldn’t risk doing his work in any place else because he doesn’t want anyone thinking and getting the wrong idea!!

speaking of, he’s regretting it now because you seem to be too happy being in his space

you’re pointing around and being awed at every possible thing!!!

what??? is this ur first time seeing a rattan hanging chair :// or a massive couch?? or a canvas painting of something so beautiful?? all of that in what’s supposed to be a student’s one apartment??? christ y/n get yourself together

“so what do you want me to do?? where do i sit oR do i stand instead?? i’m gonna need you to know that-...”

“nothing.” taehyung deadpans before he gets his camera so he could get digital shots as well if ever he needs an extra touch when it comes to his final product

the gears in your head are going bRRR and you’re gonna have to ask him to elaborate but taehyung already sets the pace

“nothing. just be your rEALLY annoying self and pretend i’m not here.”

normally you don’t take his words to heart but this one just hits a little close to home bc it’s early in the morning and taehyung already finds you intolerable

“by pretend, do you mean-...”

“up to you. are you more annoying around me or no?”

how did he read your MIND

tae got the thoughts in your head word per word and you’re so amazed at that because fUcK you originally thought that he’s good at bluffing his way up

click!

it’s you smiling at him

no you’re beaming at him

and you’re in front of his morning-lit curtains and you’re against the light

the portrait itself is already visually appealing and satisfying and man the shadows!!! the value!!!! they’re so raw and dreamy and this is exactly his style!!!

it was just a one-take wonder as soon as he took a picture of you!!! and he may have you to hold that position if he needs the push!! he just needs to translate it to canvas with his own language and emotions and then he’s dONE!!

you’re a pain in the ass

you laugh and you move too much

taehyung had you to to revisit that pose and hold it and you wouldn’t stop giggling bc you were too proud that you did THAT!

you also ask too many things that even hE doesn’t have the answers to

how is he supposed to know if red string lovers exist when you went into a spiel just because you saw a red tube of paint???? and why is he saying his opinions on such trivial things when he has his final project to take care of???

and how is he supposed to know why YOU’RE here hanging out with him instead of finishing your own final project

jk maybe it’s the L word but you’re gonna subdue that as much as possible since taehyung looks like he’d leave you by yourself with any chance that he gets

and you even call him terms of endearment!!! nicknames!! pet names!! names that you’d call someone who’s familiar to you and you probably l*ve!!!

angel

that’s what you call him :))

“why do you call me that?”

“because you look like one”

“and how would yOU know what angels look like??”

“because if they were to exist then you’d probably look like one!!”

“but-”

“ok that’s one minute no more questions taehyung <3″

tae just provides you with all the conviction you need to take care of him without even knowing

not in a maternal type of instinct type of way, but rather in a sPECIAL someone type of way

you find yourself caring for him mOre than you ever could for any regular friend you have!!

you just throw a whole loaf of bread to changbin and call it a day

but for tae??? you go above and beyond!!

“did it ever hit you that rich kid kim never really introduced himself to you?”

oh right....

changbin points out one day and you could see where he was getting at

for some reason he always knew what was in your mind at any given time and sometimes it’s to your disadvantage

you seem to be growing on taehyung though!!

he tolerates you better now!!

sometimes he’ll find you loveable even

he likes having someone around and you’re the perfect contender

if he decides to not talk too much, then you fill up the white noise!!

if he wants you to shut up?? then yOU shut up but of course not without babbling for a little

he’s opened up but with some reservations

some reservations that you don’t mind but it’s normal that you feel sometimes left out, y’know??

because it’s been a good month since you and taehyung properly interacted but he still resents you as much if you think about it

“hey angel!!”

“what is it-...”

taehyung looks up from his meal that he’s been poking at his fork because this has to be the fourth time you call out to him

so he turns to look at you and-

uhm

there seems to be a misunderstanding

you weren’t calling HIM

you were calling out to some other guy that iSN’T him

that’s seungmin!!! omg you haven’t seen him in so long and he just happened to pass by your lunch table!!!

apparently he has something to talk to you about which is why you’re standing up and leaving tae all alone on the table

seungmin’s smile is adorable as always and he gets you in a pretty good mood!!

oh god

dear gOD

what is taehyung feeling in his chEST???

tae’s grip on his fork is starting to get pRETTY tight

and if he’s aware enough, his right eye’s twitching and he’s practically scoffing under his breath

why tf would you call him that

WHO is angel and why is it nOT him anymore????

what he’s feeling is just unexplainable and it tastes something like betrayal

“who’s he?”

he quizzes you as soon as you get back to your table and you don’t waver one bit because you know he’s been asking questions recently

“oh that’s just seungmin!! we were childhood friends then he just transferred here awhile-...”

there’s a bitter taste on his tongue and it shows up in his face and you’re not even paying attention to him!!

“really? thought i was him for a second.”

ok now that got you to stop eating

????

why is he acting weird

taehyung looks even more irked because you look sO oblivious right now

“do you call everyone angel?”

o-oh where is this going

“uhm-”

you’re not even finished and to be honest you’re quite lost and taehyung sCOFFS you to the next century

“‘course you do.”

taehyung angrily finishes his meal and you leave it at that because ok maybe he had a bad day?? and he’s just taking it out on you??

and well tae DOESN’T want you to leave it at that

he wants you to ASK him why he’s mad!!! he’s passive-aggressive and it’s getting unhealthy but he’d rather choke than have him spill whatever he’s feeling

the next few days, taehyung avoids you like his LIFE depended on it

you’re not really bothered by it because he has his days, but this one’s just getting out of control

“are you giving me a time-out or something??”

lmao what did u do now

you nudge him when you see him by changbin’s apartment to borrow an easel even though he’s already got it by his apartment

yeah he’s mad at you and he’s petty but maybe he wants to see you again

tae’s giving you silent treatment and you don’t even question him for it

you don’t bother!!

you’re letting him do whatever he wants as always and he dOESN’T like it anymore!!!

he feels like he’s gonna combust at any given time and you don’t give a shit and he feels like yOU should give a shit because you always do!!

you always hover and worry around him but wHY does he feel like you’re not doing it anymore??

why does he yEARN FOR YOU???

it’s quite an an early night for you

you love biochem but sometimes it kicks your ass and it makes you retch at the mention of all-nighters nowadays!! bc they used to be fun but now doing them because you nEED to?? no thx

you’re already in your pajamas and you’re all washed up!! what could changbin need from you at 9 in the evening??

there’s an urgent knocking on your door and you resist the need to groan because you were about to really knock yourself out!! you need to get back all the rest you’ve wasted over your own final project

is that-

“taehyung?”

the man in question is in his huge yellow hoodie that swallows him up every time and he looks positively spent

his hair’s shaggy and his eyes are glazed and there’s a pink tint to his cheeks :((

he’s holding a baby hydroflask in his hands and you’re pretty sure that’s alcohol in there lol

“don’t call me taehyung!!”

he immediately snaps and you’re lost as aLWAYS

did he really just walk all the way to your complex to snAp at you??

“i’m not taehyung,” he frowns deeply and that’s when you’re a bit more mesmerized, “i’m angel.”

is this what you think it is??

your no.1 deflection move is to laugH and you’re doing that rn

something about this whole situation tickles you funny and you’re not sure what to feel about it

“i like your bottle!! i should get one for myself!!”

he could see right through you though

he ignores your stOOpid statements and goes to hold your hands :((

“no, no. i’m your angel. i-i’m your taehyung, right??”

listen

taehyung is the most confusing being you know and he’s so emotionally constipated that he outperforms changbin but this one,,,

this just feels so different

he’s hugging you

he’s embracing you

he’s burrowing his face to your neck and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t ever imagine what this would feel like :(((

he positively 100% might be in love with you

and you positively 100% might be in love with him too

he’s fishing for your hand by your side to put in between your bodies as he shakes it and that’s because he doesn’t wanna let go of the hug

:((((

you’re melting and this what heaven must feel like :((((

“h-hi. name’s kim taehyung and i’m yours.”

#I SPENT A LOT OF TIME ON THIS PLS LEAVE FEEDBACK PLS AND THANK YOU :D #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung imagines #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung drabble #taehyung drabbles #taehyung au #taehyung oneshot #bts taehyung #bts imagine #taehyung fic rec #taehyung fic recs #bts fic recs #kim taehyung imagine #requested drabbles

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