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#in a few weeks i won't be able to look at a door without thinking about tma
shadow-the-crow · 2 months
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how listening to tma is going for me:
"...a pale man..."
IS THAT GERRY?
"...a book..."
A LEITNER?
"...decided to sell the object..."
SALESA THAT YOU?
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hungercityhellhound · 2 years
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Things People Don’t Mention About Top Surgery or Mastectomies
There is reluctance to do the surgery if you live alone, even if you have a good support system. One of the most stressful things was the hospital constantly asking about who would be looking after me, picking me up, etc. I really felt the bias towards people who are married and against people who are single. I don’t think it was intentional but it was definitely there. (Please read more about this situation here) That being said you will definitely need a robust support system of some kind to get through everything in the first 4 -8 weeks or more after surgery. 
All your pill bottles will have safety caps and you won't have the strength to open them on your own without a lot of struggling.
There are soooo many medications. Take them as prescribed and when they say take the level of pain meds you need to manage your pain, do it. I got opiods and ibuprofen. If the pain is bad 5-7+ on the 1-10 scale take the stronger meds. Pain can slow healing by causing stress on the body.
Drains are a pain in the ass. Every hour pushing the hoses so they don't clog. Major drag but they are very important and if they get clogged it can cause issues
Sleeping sitting up, prepare for this. Lots of pillows or recliner or something. Practice for a week or more before surgery to get used to it. 
Sleep as much as you need. Don't feel like you should stay awake or whatever because you are supposed to or it is day time or whatever. Listen to your body.
Drink lots and lots of fluids. You may think you are drinking enough but you probably aren't. The fluid in the drains and the medicines and peeing all the time and sweating from the tight wrap. You need to replace all of this fluid. I think I have been up around 80+ oz the past few days.
The month before and a month after surgery eat a high protein and higher calorie diet. It will help with surgery and recovery. You need the energy and the protein to recover. 
Cut out added salt, caffiene, alcohol, and nicotine before surgery and during recovery. All of these can increase fluid retention, slow healing, or be dangerous with the meds.
Your chest will feel very strange. At first you can't feel anything and then the skin feels tight everywhere and still strange. The recovery process feels real weird. Your whole torso feels kind of bizarre and new.
Ask all the questions. No question is stupid. It's trauma to your body ask all the questions. YES all of them.
The tube (intubation) from surgery irritates the throat. Coughing from this sucks so damned much because of the binder and the chest tightness and what not. Find lozenges (Both cough drops and just candy) that you like. I say candy because too many cough drops can upset the stomach and you don't need that after anesthesia and with all the meds. Also get popsicles.
Take everything out of packages you can before surgery. They are damned hard to open. Those paper cartons holding the apple sauce and snapping apart pudding cups and pulling apart pill blister packs.. ugh I should have taken them apart before the surgery.
Scissors are your friend and every package is an enemy. Seriously, get a good pair of scissors for packaging.
Also, skip 2 liters of pop, gallon of milk, etc. They will be too heavy to pick up after surgery. You can be more independent if  you get smaller size things.
Timers are your friend. All the phone timers forever. Also, handwritten or some other chart type to keep track of drain cleaning and taking meds. You will be sleepy and forgetful the first few days. Use other things to help you keep track.
Take stock of how your lights go on and off. Can you reach them while pretending you are a T-Rex. If not, especially ceiling fans and that, put long strings on the pulls so that you can operate them while you can't raise your arms.
Also check your doors to make sure they don't stick. You won't be able to tug hard on doors or drawers or whatever.
Get yourself some treats. Food related or clothing or whatever. Treats will help.
Before surgery plan out and prepare at least a week of meals. Be sure to include some that are easy on the stomach like crackers, rice and chicken, etc. Just in case you have stomach upset from the anesthesia or meds. Gentle foods include starches and chicken/tofu that is low fat and low spice so that it is gentle.
Soft fuzz free and easy to get on clothing is essential. I went out and got a couple of those shorts and button down shirt pajama sets. Life savers. Also, get a size or two bigger than usual to accommodate drains and padded bandages and things. 
Strange pains, you will probably have them. 
Be sure to do the arm exercises as directed by your surgeon and watch your shoulders hunching. The shoulder hunching is from the chest tightness but you don't want your back to start hurting. Try to sit up as straight as you can.
Pump action soap dispensers will be too hard to use the first few days.
Weeks before surgery, start teaching yourself how to do things without your arms; like standing up, getting into and out of bed, squatting, getting up from chairs, etc. Practice doing things with your elbows next to your chest like a t-rex; getting food and drinking, brushing teeth, taking meds, etc This will be very important
I am sure there are more but I thought some of you might benefit from the things I have learned so far from going through surgery.
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hollyhomburg · 3 months
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Before I Leave You (Pt.66)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.
Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.
W/c: 8.3k
A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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(Four years prior, Hoseok)
Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.
It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.
This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.
The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.
Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.
What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-
After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.
He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.
He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him
It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.
"I don't want you to get sick pup."
"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."
"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"
But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.
His ex-pack omega.
It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.
He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.
Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).
Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.
He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.
Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.
(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).
Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.
“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”
The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.
The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.
He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.
This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.
He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.
Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.
Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.
The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.
Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.
Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).
Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.
“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”
“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”
“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”
"Wait, please- I love you."
"We know. We're sorry."
Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.
He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.
Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.
Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.
Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.
Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.
Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.
The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.
He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."
That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.
(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")
Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.
Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.
When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.
(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.
They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.
The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.
“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."
Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.
~-~
(Now, You)
You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.
But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.
You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.
The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.
The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.
Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.
There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.
This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.
You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.
Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.
Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.
Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.
It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.
Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;
How dare she.
How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).
How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.
There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.
The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.
Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.
The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.
The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.
The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.
A single inch.
His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.
He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.
When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.
(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)
By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”
You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.
The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).
The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-
and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.
You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.
Why didn't he shoot?
The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.
One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.
Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.
"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"
You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.
“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”
He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.
You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.
The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.
There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.
A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.
There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.
Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?
Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.
If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.
Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”
You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.
When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.
Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards
But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.
The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.
Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.
And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.
Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.
“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”
The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.
Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.
They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.
Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.
Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.
He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.
Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.
Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.
“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”
The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.
The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.
“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”
Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.
But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.
His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."
You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”
He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”
Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.
“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”
“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.
“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."
The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.
You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-
“Please- please don’t kill them."
He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”
He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.
“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.
You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.
Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.
“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.
“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”
You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.
You won't let any of this happen.
The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.
If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.
you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.
“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”
You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-
You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.
“Pup-”
You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.
Only-
Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.
You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.
“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”
Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.
“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”
The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.
But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”
Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.
Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.
“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”
"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"
Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.
Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.
No.
Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.
I love you. Sorry.
The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.
Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.
If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.
Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.
“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.
“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”
“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”
Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”
It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.
But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.
Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.
She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.
I’m sorry, I love you.
“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.
When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.
She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.
And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.
Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.
The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.
The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"
Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.
“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.
“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.
You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.
And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-
Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.
By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.
They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.
And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.
“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”
Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.
Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-
At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.
Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.
Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.
The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.
Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.
Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.
And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.
There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.
The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.
Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.
His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.
Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.
You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.
There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.
“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”
There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.
“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.
Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.
It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.
It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.
~-~
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Notes:
if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?
One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.
Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(
hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.
i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.
i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.
I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.
I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.
This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.
i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.
363 notes · View notes
beomboomboom · 1 month
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Important
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genre: fluff, angst, established relationship
pairing: idol!Jihoon x reader
summary: Jihoon is a busy guy, everyone knows that. But why does it hurt so much when he can't even make time for his own girlfriend? All you want is Jihoon's love and affection, why is that so difficult?
warnings: a bit of swearing
note: This fic includes some lyrics from the song All My Love by SEVENTEEN (If you haven't heard this song, I strongly recommend you listen to it. It's such a good song!!) I hope you enjoy reading the fic <33
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"Am I really that important to you?"
There's tears in your eyes when you ask Jihoon the question you've been wondering about for the past few weeks.
Part of you knows you're just being irrational. Jihoon has other things he needs to focus on. He's an idol and a producer for fucks sake, it's practically guaranteed that he's going to be busy with work 24/7. So it's unrealistic for you to expect him to be able to make time for you whenever you feel the need for some company.
But the other part of you feels lonely. Coming home everyday to the sight of an empty apartment without Jihoon isn't exactly the most uplifting sight to see. And even when Jihoon on the rare occasion, does come home, all you are able to see is his passed out figure before he leaves in the morning while you still sleep.
All you want is Jihoon's love and affection, why is that so hard?
You receive your answer to that very question in the way Jihoon sits in a distracted silence when he hears your question. His eyes looking at his computer in a daze, too busy thinking up of ideas for new songs to produce rather than looking at the way you're about to burst into tears.
"Fine. If you can't even give me one second of your time and focus I'm going to leave," you yell angrily as more tears spring into your eyes. You quickly stand up from your position on Jihoon's couch and exit his studio, slamming the door behind you.
"WAI-" Jihoon starts to shout, finally finding his voice. His eyes widen while his hand is outstretched toward the direction of his door as if it's going to make you come back.
But it's too late.
You're gone.
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Jihoon knows he fucked up.
More than that actually.
He knows that it's his fault your relationship with him feels so one-sided. He has a habit of overworking himself. Oftentimes minutes in the studio turning into hours before turning into days of being cooped up producing songs, causing him to neglect the very people he wants to spend all his time with.
Jihoon wishes he could tell you how much he loves you, that he's not trying to neglect you on purpose. He just sometimes gets caught up in his work and doesn't realize when it's time to take a break. He wishes he could tell you that he misses you as much as you miss him, even though he doesn't show it.
But now he has no idea what he could possibly do to solve the predicament he's in. Jihoon could talk with you, but he knows he's not the best with confrontation. Jihoon could give you a few days of space, but he knows that it's probably not the best choice since the whole reason you got mad was because Jihoon wasn't around you enough.
So, Jihoon turns to what he's best at doing. What he does when he doesn't have a clue on what to do.
Songwriting.
Sometimes he'll write songs for his members, comforting them through his lyrics. Other times he'll write songs for Carats, wanting to share with them some encouraging and happy tunes.
But this time, he's writing a song for you.
Jihoon knows that writing a song for you won't make you forgive him instantly, but the most he can do is try to make things better a little bit at a time.
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It's 3 in the morning when you hear a knock at your front door. As the rain falls softly on your window, the only question that on your mind is, who the heck is outside your house at such an ungodly hour?
Feet shuffling along the cold floor, you sleepily walk over to your door and open it. Your sleepy eyes are still trying to make sense of the situation when Jihoon stands outside your apartment door.
In front of you stands a drenched Jihoon with puffy red eyes carrying his signature black backpack that is absolutely ginormous on him.
"Jihoon? What are you doing here?"
Mumbling something incoherently, you watch, still half-awake, as Jihoon slowly walks up to you and gently wraps his arms around you.
As you feel the wetness from Jihoon's shirt begin to seep into your own shirt, you try to softly push Jihoon away. But that only makes Jihoon hug you tighter. "Don't go...,"you hear him mumble as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, and that's when you realize that Jihoon is crying.
You're torn.
Seeing your boyfriend cry is a rare occurence and as much as you want to hug him tightly and kiss away all his tears, you want to run away because how can he come back to your apartment as if nothing had happened in these past few months.
"I'm sorry," Jihoon says, his voice cracking and mouth quivering, as he cries, letting his tears drop messily into the fabric of your shirt.
Taking Jihoon's face in your hands, you quietly rub away his tears which only makes him cry harder. Leaning into your touch, he takes hold of your wrist and gently rubs it. "I-I'm really sorry. You don't deserve a terrible boyfriend like me."
"No, don't say that. You know what, how about I get you a towel so that you can dry yourself off and then we can talk more, okay?
"Okay"
By the time you return from the bathroom, towel in hand, Jihoon is sitting on the couch and pulling his computer out of his bag. "oh...are you going to be working more?"
He can hear the disappointment in your voice when you ask the question, you're so used to him working all the time that you're not even angry ... you're just disappointed. Jihoon feels a wave of guilt wash over him as he realizes that all the things you said to him before were true, he was just too busy to realize it.
"Ah, no. I have something to show you," Jihoon says with a tired smile as he pats the seat on the couch beside him, inviting you to sit.
Hesitant, you take a seat next to your boyfriend and look at his computer screen where you can see him open a file. You then watch as Jihoon pulls out a pair of earphones and plugs them into the computer.
Putting the earbuds into your ears, Jihoon presses play as his eyes shake, nervously watching your face for any kind of reaction.
The second the melody of the song plays into your ears, you feel like crying out of disbelief. "You made a song for me?" you ask, suprise etched all over your face, as you look towards Jihoon's direction.
Nodding with a small but nervous smile, Jihoon then motions for you to continue listening.
And it's when you reach the part of the song where you can hear the lyrics sung by the sweet honey voice of your boyfriend, when you begin to cry.
Just likе a pouring meteor shower Please be the light in the dark sky I can do everything for you For you I just want to give you everything And that makes me feel small, a fool who only accepts It suddenly makes me hate myself And makes me feel sorrier towards you
"Oh- Jihoon-," you start to say with tears in your eyes as you close the gap between you and Jihoon and give him a tight hug, your face pressed against his chest. "This is beautiful," you continue on to say sincerely.
Blushing, Jihoon quietly mutters with a nervous laugh, "you haven't even finished the song, listen to what i'm trying to say."
Following Jihoon's instructions, you lean on him and quickly refocus your attention back on the song.
Though it was hard writing my feelings down And all I have is this song and these lyrics For you, for you, for you, for you I sing this song for you tonight So I can get closer to your love
My love only amounts to this But my feelings will never change, for you baby Even if my love only amounts to this I'll be your umbrella in the rain I'll protect you on all your days
By the time you finish listening to Jihoon's song for you, you're in shambles. "fuck- Jihoon, I love you so much you know? I'm still mad at you but I still love you so much," you say as tears roll down your cheeks. Pressing your forehead against Jihoon's, you lean in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.
Jihoon freezes for a moment before immediately tugging you closer to his body and reciprocating your kiss. "I don't deserve someone as precious as you,"he whispers before devouring your lips into another kiss.
When both you and Jihoon finally break away from each other to get some oxygen into your lungs, Jihoon gently takes your hands into his own. "I-I'm really sorry though. I was a terrible boyfriend these past few months, but I'm going to work on trying to improve myself. Even though I'll probably be busy with producing songs, i'll try to make time for you."
You let out a relived smile when you hear Jihoon's sincere words. "Okay, and I understand if you need time for other things too."
Jihoon gives you a small nod and a smile. "And to answer your previous question, of course you're important to me. For fucks sake you're my girlfriend, you're one of the most important people in my life. How can you not be important to me?" Jihoon says while cupping your face before continuing on to say," just because I don't show it, doesn't mean I don't feel it."
"I love you," he finally whispers with a smile as he places a small peck on your lips.
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berrieluv · 1 year
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hold me, love me, touch me, be the first who ever did. a short blurb about james potter being boyfriend material.
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It goes without saying that James Potter is definitely the best boyfriend, person, friend there was.
He cared so deeply for you and made you feel so loved all the time, you really couldn't complain, not for once has he ever make you feel unrequited.
And for someone who spent most of its life thinking loving them was hard, James Potter was quite the gift. There was something about his way, maybe it was his personality or the professing love he felt for you that made him act that way, whatever it was, you don't think of changing it for a mere second.
For summer break, James invited you to his house – more like his mansion –, it would be fun. Remus and Sirius would catch you there a few weeks later so you had plenty of time to get to know his parents better, and the alone time you would spend together. You were looking forward to it.
Except for the nights. You knew your nights were odd, no one really had this routine for it, you got to lower it down, your mom and dad always making sure it was fine.
"James?" You murmured in the middle of the night. You tried to push your needs as much as you could but it was getting imposible. James was facing the opposite side of you, one of his legs was on top of your body but it allowed you to sit "Jamie..."
"Mmh?"
"Did you closed the door?"
"S'closed, baby. See?" He said, extending his arms to the bedroom door.
"The principal door"
"I didn't. M'sure someone else did, s'fine"
James had a really thick accent, and he spoke too fast very often. In a daily and normal basis it was hard to keep the track of what he was saying, now sleeping it was even harder"
"What if no one did?" You asked, looking at his curls falling on his forehead, his pretty face illuminated by the peaks of moonlight entering through the window "Can we check?"
"I'm sure someone did, baby. There's many people living here"
"What if someones breaks in?"
"That won't happen baby"
You played with your fingers for a few seconds, you trusted James. He lived in a nice neighborhood. Entering was hard and the people around seemed nice enough to not go through their neighbors.
But still. You. Needed. To. Check.
"Can we go check?"
"Can you go back to sleep?"
He answered back with a smile, trying to push you to the mattress but your eyes were fixated to the door, thinking. You won't be able to sleep if you don't go and check that. You know it.
"Jamie..." He responded with a sleepy 'Mmh' before you said something else "Please, can we go check?"
"Alright" He said, taking the blankets off and revealing his naked torso. You knew he liked to sleep like that, in fact, those pajama pants were too many clothes for his liking – and yours too –, but you were at his parents' house, you should show respect "Hand"
You take James' hand and let him help you out of the bed, he waits for you to put on your slippers and starts walking to the stairs.
The big brown, beautiful principal door is standing right in front of you, closed. James stands at the edge of the stairs and waits for you to see it, not counting on you wanting to go and really check if its closed.
Still, he walks down with you, still holding hands and yawning.
"See?" He says when your hand meets the locker and check that it's locked. "Back to sleep now, baby"
But you were already downstairs. And the oven was just too close to go back to the room. "What about the oven?"
"The oven is in the kitchen"
You frown; "Is it off?"
"Of course it is"
You say nothing, but the eager look in your eyes directing to the kitchen makes James sigh and start walking with you.
Even if you could see the oven off you still kneeled a bit in front of it, just watching it. James couldn't be more confused, but what could he say? If checking the oven and the door would make his girl happy, count him in.
"Is off"
He smiles "See, baby? No harm as long as you're with your man"
And you smile back. Because what kind of guy would drag himself off bed and walk downstairs at 2:30 in the morning to just check if the door was closed.
When you exit the kitchen, the principal door is looking at you again, and suddenly you can't remember if you did a good inspection in there. Your body and James' is already four stairs up, but you had to check it.
You let go of James hand for the first time since you got out of bed and run to the door, check the look again and smile to yourself now that is locked.
"S'alright. We checked good the first time"
"Thank you"
You murmur and he just smiles and kisses your forehead.
After that day, James Potter goes through the whole house, holding hands with you, checking if everything is in order to go to sleep. Of course there's time you need to double check in the middle of the night, often he would try to help you to control it, but sometimes you really need to double check.
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thedarks1de · 1 month
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Professor
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!professor Nanami x !student reader
Ignore the mistakes!
1 part
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Ever since the college changed the physics professor, you have been having serious problems with the subject. In fact, you always had problems-you never understood physics, but the old professor, an elderly man, gave you good grades for good money. All you had to do was slip him a few dollars and the highest grade was in your pocket. You were happy, the professor was happy, everyone was happy.., but sooner or later everything changes. That professor quit and a new one took his place.
Professor Nanami Kento. A stern, serious, nerdy man. He looked to be in his early thirties. He always went in strict suits, wore print ties and dark green glasses. And worst of all, he didn't take bribes.
You failed several important tests that affect your final grade. You had no idea what to do. You could, of course, just start studying his subject and fix your grade, but you never understood physics, it's unlikely you'd be able to do that… But you'll find a way to crack Professor Nanami. Maybe if you try hard enough, he'll take the money and give you a top grade in physics. Yeah, you should definitely try to bribe him again.
You found him in the physics room, which was no surprise. Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside. When Kento saw you, he put his notebooks aside.
— «Ms. y/n, did you want something?» — He asked, looking at you through dark green glasses.
You started to fidget for some reason, the words wouldn't come out of your throat, and you just stared at him in silence, biting your lower lip.
— "Ms. y/n?" - he snapped his fingers, bringing you back down to earth.
— "Ah… uh… Yes." - You muttered. "I mean my grades…"
— "Oh, you've finally come to fix them?"
— "How much do you want?"
— "What…?"
— "I'll pay you as much as you ask, just…"
— "I don't take bribes, Ms. y/n. We've already discussed this, haven't we?"
— "But…"
— "No "buts". Learn the material and correct your grades."
You walked out of the professor's office, slamming the door loudly. You felt a great sense of disappointment and despair. All of your hopes that you would be able to get good grades without difficulty have been dashed. You have to face the harsh reality: you will have to learn to understand physics on your own, to absorb the material, to spend a lot of time and effort to assimilate new knowledge. No, you would find another way. You didn't want to spend your days and nights sitting behind books.
— "That Nanami pisses me off!" — you complained to your friend about your teacher. Every class, he bombarded you with questions, gave you bad grades, and generally pissed you off with his existence.
— "Why don't you just start studying?" — A friend asked, sipping her coffee.
— "No. No way! I'll find a way to crack it." — You said.
— "Maybe… and though no, you won't." — sighed her friend, shaking her head.
— "What are you talking about? What won't I do?" — You asked interestedly.
— "Well… Have sex with him."
— "…What?"
— "Almost all the professors in our college fuck female students and give them good grades."
— "What do you mean almost all of them?!"
— "Well, Professor Gojo, Professor Geto, Professor Sukuna, and Fushiguro. You'd know how many they've already fucked. The students themselves come to them and ask for it. I think Professor Nanami's the same way. Just seduce him, get him in bed, and he'll give you the highest grade of the year."
You pondered, listening to your friend. The idea of sleeping with a professor for a grade sounded absurd and unacceptable. But the thought began to slowly creep into your thoughts. But you couldn't believe that something like this was happening at your college.
You didn't want to stoop to that, but on the other hand, you found it more… more attractive than sitting at a textbook. But Professor Nanami wasn't someone who could be seduced that easily.
A week had passed and you were determined to sleep with your processor. You were struggling with mixed feelings of fear and excitement. You even began to watch Nanami more closely, trying to figure out what might have attracted him. While Nanami was still that strict, serious, and nerdy teacher, he was also quite an attractive man. And even very sexy.
After class was over, you went to his office again. Once inside, you closed the door behind you.
Nanami looked up at you. You bit your lip and silently stepped closer to him.
— "What is it, Miss y/n? If you've come to offer me a bribe again, then…"
— "No, Professor… That's not what I came for."
— "Oh? Well, I'm listening to you." He took off his glasses and put them on the table. Nanami looked straight into your eyes and you felt uneasy, but you don't intend to give up.
— "I came to offer you my body..."
— "I beg your pardon?" Kento arched an eyebrow.
— "You can have me… well… to sleep with me… in general, I offer you my body in exchange for a high assessment…"
Nanami was silent. His face expressed obvious bewilderment and indignation, and this indicated that he would not accept your offer in any case.
— "Miss y/n… As a student, you should strive for knowledge, not use your body… for the sake of personal gain, to offer such a thing to a professor."
You have experienced a sharp sense of shame and chagrin. Your hopes for an easy way out of a difficult situation have collapsed again. You could feel your hands shaking and your heart beating so loudly and strongly that it seemed Nanami could hear it. You looked at this man, barely holding back tears.
— "I can pretend that you didn't offer me anything like that. Now go and study the topics you're lagging behind on." — Nanami remained serious as he said this.
— "I'm sorry…" — You ran out of his office with tears in your eyes. You were ashamed, very, very ashamed. How could you offer yourself to a professor? Why didn't you think that he would refuse? Damn it, now he definitely thinks that you're not only dumb, but also a slut offering to fuck yourself for a high score.
For the next few days, you stopped going to Nanami's classes because you were ashamed to even look at him. You've disgraced yourself and you don't know what to do next.
With a sigh, you closed your eyes and promised yourself that now you will study seriously and really immerse yourself in the material. You need to find a tutor who will teach you physics.
And you went back to Nanami's office. You were very nervous and afraid to look at him.
— "Miss y/n?"
You stood in front of Kento, feeling confused and confused.
— "Hello, Professor…"
— "What is it this time? And why did you skip classes?"
— "Ah, I'm sorry… I… Professor Nanami, I wanted to ask you to study with me additionally. If it's not a problem for you…"
— "So you've decided to start studying after all? This is encouraging."
Nanami looked at his wristwatch. He frowned, and you started to get even more nervous, afraid of rejection.
Kento looked at you again.
— "I don't stay here after the lesson is over," he said.
You lowered your head. So he's not going to teach you?
— "If you want additional classes, you can come to my house. We'll work out there," Kento said.
— "At your place?" — You specified.
Nanami nodded. You've been thinking a little bit. So he's inviting you to his house?
— "Good!" you nodded enthusiastically.
— "In that case, shall we go right now or will you make up some kind of schedule?" asked Kento, leaving the college with you.
— "Maybe if you're free, we can start today?"
— "All right. My car is in the parking lot, let's go."
You and Nanami walked to the parking lot where his car was parked. Kento opened the backseat door for you to get in. You're blushing a little. What a gentleman he is.
You drove for 30 minutes in complete silence until you finally reached the professor's huge house.
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ddejavvu · 10 months
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pairing: james potter x fem!reader ft. remus and sirius
summary: james is surprisingly willing to help you despite only having known you for a few weeks.
contents: reader is on her period, james barges into the bathroom because he's That Close to his friends
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Sharing both a room and a bathroom with three men after having shared with four women is jarring, to say the least. Your old roommates could be slobs, of course, but there's something about James's habit barging into the bathroom whenever he pleases that doesn't sit right with you at first. You understand why he'd done it before you'd gotten there; you're sure they all had. You had no problem brushing your teeth beside Lily or Marlene while they were showering or peeing, but now that you're equipped with different tools than the rest of your roommates, it just feels wrong for them to see.
You first encounter it on a Monday morning, an appropriately terrible day for a terrible experience. You've just gotten up, and you're using the bathroom before you get dressed for the day, when James decides he needs to shower right then and there. He shouts a quick, 'Comin' in, mate!' Before turning the knob with the broken lock and storming right in, not giving you enough time to announce your presence.
"Ah- James!" You think you'll die right then and there, hands hovering over your crotch as James realizes what he's done. He's butt naked, probably tired after practice and in need of a steamy shower, but he's not any more enthusiastic about you seeing his parts than you are of him seeing yours, and he scrambles to cover himself up.
"Uh- sorry. I didn't realize it was you, I thought- I thought you had classes this morning. I apologize," He smiles kindly, though his eyes bulge where they're glued to your own, "Uh- you can... get back to business."
Neither of you had looked each other in the eyes for nearly 36 hours, but eventually the awkwardness died down, and you moved on.
Until the second time.
"Y/N," He calls, while you're in the shower, behind the flimsy curtain, "Listen, I know you're in the shower and all, but I'm running late, and I really need to brush my teeth. I don't want to rush you, can I just- just pop in there for a second? I swear I won't look."
You're at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing like a fish while the water streams around you. You appreciate his consideration, you know he doesn't want to scare you off or cross your boundaries, but it's a bold request. You're covered, sure, but the bathroom light is on, and you're sure you've got a silhouette behind the curtain. But you're going to be a while longer, and it's not fair of you to hold James up.
"Uh- sure," You stammer, covering up your chest like he'll be able to see through the curtain with laser eyes, "Come on in."
He doesn't hesitate to rush inside, but he's considerate enough to close the door after himself so that no one else stumbles upon you. You appreciate it, but you're frozen as he brushes his teeth quickly, bidding you a cheery goodbye like he hadn't just skimmed over giving you a heart attack. He shuts the door on his way back out, and there's not an ounce of awkwardness in his tone when he chats with you about his day later.
The third time, the third time is the kicker. You've started your period, the first time since you've been staying with James, Remus, and Sirius. You're sure they wouldn't give you a hard time for it, they seem decent enough so far, but there's just something mortifying about putting a used pad in a man's bathroom trash can.
You've changed your sheets before anyone can see the red stain, but your panties haven't been as fortunate yet. They're laying stained and wet on the ground beside your equally mangled shorts, hopefully not transferring the blood to the fabric below.
You don't get any warning, not enough time to hide them when you hear James's heavy footfalls by the door. He barges in without warning, face shifting to apologetic for only a split second before he registers the bloody clothes on the floor.
"Aah," He yelps, "Fuckin'- Are you wounded? You- oh." His sex education catches up to him, realizing why you've got blood only in the pad of your underwear, "Uh- right. Sorry."
"Get-" You start with a hiss, but you rein yourself in, trying to be kind, "James, can you- can you please get out?"
"Yeah! Yeah, right, I'll-" He motions over his shoulder with his thumb, "Uh- the guys are coming, so I'll head out. And-"
"The- what? Remus and Sirius are on their way back?" You panic, regretting your late wake-up. You could have really used the time they spent at breakfast to clean up."
"Yeah, they're- at the door."
"Close the door!" You urge him, as you hear the two other men enter the room. James does as he's told, but instead of stepping out, he steps in, panicked by your harsh tone of voice.
"Not- no!" You gush, but when he tries correcting himself, you lunge for his hand.
"Don't leave!" You beg, but rush to explain yourself when he frowns worriedly at you.
"I don't-" You whisper, "I don't want them to know I'm in here. Like- like this. If you leave they'll know. Just-" You fall silent with a sigh, "I don't know."
"Right." He nods, keeping his voice down so that it's muffled to Remus and Sirius, "Uh, I'll-"
"James? Mate, m'coming in," Sirius's voice comes from just outside the door, and you and James stare at each other, terrified. He rushes to slam his back against the door, and Sirius is unable to turn the knob.
"No! Uh, you can't-" James stammers, clearing his throat and steeling himself, "Use the bathroom in the hallway. I've got the squirts, mate, you don't wanna be in here with me."
You're lucky that Remus and Sirius groan in disgust, because it muffles your quick snort into your fist.
"You fuckin' animal. I told you not to cram those sausages down your throat," Remus snaps, "Now we can't use it for the rest of the day."
"Yeah, yeah, I've learned my lesson," James promises, shooting you a knowing wink, "Now get out!"
You're fairly certain you hear Sirius groan 'gladly', but you can't be certain. Their footsteps recede, then the outer door shuts, and once again you're alone with James. You wait for him to leave, but he lingers for a moment, politely avoiding staring at your soiled clothes.
"Right, well, they won't be back for a while. Do you want me to leave, too?"
"Uh- no, it's- it's okay," You decide, "You know."
"Yeah. Do you need any," James cringes before he even offers, "Help? I mean, I'm sure you've got wiping down, just- do you want, like, chocolate or something? Doesn't that help?"
"No! No, James, it's alright," You assure him, touched by his offer even if you're also embarrassed by it, "I don't want you to go to any trouble."
"No trouble," He shrugs, letting himself out of the bathroom and hovering in the doorway, "I know where Remus's stash is! He probably won't even notice it's missing, he's got so much. I can snatch some for you?"
"Really, it's okay," You smile kindly at him, still doubled over on the toilet with your elbows covering what you don't want him seeing, "Just- a moment alone, please?"
"Right," He nods with a grin, shutting the door, "Sorry!"
You breathe deep when you finally have a moment alone, cheeks burning with mortification. You're not sure you'll recover from this for a month, conveniently just enough time for it to happen again. You clean yourself up swiftly, not eager to spend more time in the bathroom that's revealed you to your roommate thrice in a month now.
James is kicked back on his bed when you reenter the main room, and he shoots you a kind smile that you bashfully return. You get to work putting new sheets on your bed, but when you move your pillow, you find a chocolate bar tucked under it.
If the sly grin on his face as he turns the page of his book is any indication, he's heard your light chuckle, and knows you appreciate him.
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hi18364 · 2 months
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Mama mom and auntie Caitlin
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 My mom has been acting weird; they have been fighting a lot. Mom has been staying with Auntie Shebahn for the past 2 days, and Auntie Caitlin has been over a lot. 
 
I have asked Mama what has happened, but she won't tell me. I'm not Ruesha and Katie's biological daughter. I was at the Arsenal U10s program, and Katie had an interest in me because I was apparently a good player. I was put up for adoption when I was 3 days old, but the adoption never went through, and I was placed in foster care. 
 
I'm now 17, and I play on the Arsenal senior team. I play as a striker and defender. I'm currently sitting on a chair. I knew what my mama wanted to tell me, but I didn't want it to be true. I was snapped out of my thoughts by Mama talking, "y/n, I need to tell you something because you need to know... me and Ru." I know what's about to come out of her mouth. 
 
It was like slow motion: "We have decided to break up, "I just staired at her, "Did you cheat on her with Caitlin?" A look of guilt goes over her face. " "I-" . I get up and walk out of the room. A few of the girls were standing there. Caitlin was one of them. She reaches out to stop me from going. The rest of the girls look confused. "Get the fuck off me. Why the fuck did you do it?" I get out of her grip and go to the car. and drive off. I drive to the London City Lionesses trying ground, and I park. I can see everyone on the pitch; they are in practice. I sit for 10 minutes, then get out and go in. They know me because I've been there before. 
 
I knock on the door to see if anyone is in there. When I don't get an answer, I go out to the pitch, and the boss sees me. I stand off to the side. She comes and stands next to me. She looks at me with sad eyes, telling me she knows why I'm hearing "Hey, sorry, I don't know why, to be honest." 
 
"It's all good. I guess you know now." 
I look at the players on the pitch and say, "What I'm meant to do, I can't look at them without feeling betrayed; she was my aunt.". 
 
Time skip: 3 weeks later 
 
Not a lot has happened except the fact that I've stopped talking to everyone. I'm now staying with Viv Beth and sometimes mom, but mostly Viv and Beth. I don't want to be at Arsenal anymore, so I've decided to have a meeting with the managers and other people to see what I can do to get out of here, even if that means I have to go to the USA. If I want to get out of here, I need to. 
 
It's like I'm suffocating while staying here. 
 
After the meeting (I can't be bothered to write it), 
 
So that was eventful for the first part of the meeting. They did want to let me go, but in the end, after I said I would quit football, they decided to lone me out to Gotham; it's a team in the USA. 
 
I don't really want to leave mom, and to be honest, I don't really want to leave mama, but I need a new start and a fresh slate. I want to go and be able to breathe. Maybe mom will follow me to the USA. I don't think Mama would, and to be honest, I haven't talked to Mama. I'm still angry at her, but she's still my Mama, and I still love her. 
 
It's been three weeks since we made the deal with Gotham. I have yet to tell anyone I need to tell them because in two days it's the end of the season. Then it's the World Cup, so I need to tell them today, but I don't know how to tell them. 
 
I'm sitting on the pitch, and a bunch of the girls next to me are all talking about the next game. the World Cup and the new signings that will happen Leah was talking about people transferring, and everybody was saying who they thought would go where. 
 
I say in a hushed tone, "I'm going to Gotham." I guess it wasn't quite, and Beth said loudly, "You're moving to Gotham!" 
————————————————————————————
There is a part two but I’ve not finished it it’s not my best work but I’ve got a few more from another app that I think I might post here the alexia one will be out when I write it which  will probably be soon
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waldau · 5 months
Note
hi!! i really love the way you write for wonwoo♡♡♡ could i request wonwoo+friends to lovers(something like she fell first but he fell harder kinda trope?)
thank you so much anon! also you're my first ever request! i hope i did this trope justice, because as much as i love established relationships i don't think i've ever really done much for friends to lovers.
crush — jeon wonwoo | 2,193 words | fluff
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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it hits wonwoo like a sledgehammer.
he's glad he's already sitting in his usual seat at the table, because there probably couldn't be a worse time to realize he's in love with you. when you're out on a date with someone else, and when these dates look like they're going to become a steady fixture in your life; something that he's going to have to learn how to make peace with.
wonwoo doesn't just love you. he's in love with you, and he's grappling with the realization of how many months he's missed without knowing the extent of his own feelings for you.
he wishes there was some manual that told him what to do when you had feelings for your roommate. when said roommate happened to be your best friend you'd try to ask out if you weren't so afraid of ruining the friendship.
since the end of high school and the beginning of college, wonwoo's always had you by his side — whether it be in the same classes, or the same friend group — hell, he's lost count of the number of nights you spent together, watching movies instead of trying to get some sleep for the next day.
(maybe there was a reason why he chose horror movies sometimes, even though you were scared of them.)
he thinks back to all the times your friends joked you were practically dating — that never annoyed him. he was merely surprised at the idea of dating you. you had always been his best friend; nothing more. you were a constant fixture in his life that he didn't see in any other way.
but now? wonwoo wishes he could turn back time and see what could have happened. would you have had the same inside jokes you do now, the same ease that comes with learning to co-exist by carving each other's shapes into your lives?
he looks up from his laptop at the sound of the wind rattling the windows. but he's the only one home.
you're out on your second date in the past two weeks with this guy named seungcheol. for the past two weeks, wonwoo hasn't been able to put a finger on why he hasn't been so keen on this guy you're seeing, despite the fact that seungcheol sounds like nothing but a gentleman.
and now he knows why.
he's heard a lot about how funny and smart and nice seungcheol is, from taking you to your favourite restaurant for a date to leaving you at your doorstep at the end of your night out.
wonwoo wants to argue that he, too, does the same thing for you. he holds doors open for you and gives you his beanie when you're cold and lets you have his popcorn when yours is done, but you just don't see him that way. and he doesn't know what to do to make you see him that way.
he focuses on his laptop again. the words all seem jumbled, and he's pretty sure he's been on the same page for the past half hour. so he takes his glasses off and lets his eyes rest. only to remember the time you took his glasses off when he was almost about to fall asleep on the sofa.
you're loving. it's something he's learned from you. you're always looking out for others, always concerned, wanting them to know you're there in the subtlest ways possible.
wonwoo always wants you around, and now has an irrational worry that he won't have you for much longer. his heart starts hurting — really, physically hurting, like a deep pain in his chest that can't be satiated by anything. he didn't know it was possible, but it's all he can feel right now.
he tries to think about anything else. those few people he'd dated back in college, whose names he can't even remember now. he hasn't dated anyone in the past two years since you graduated, got a job and moved into this flat together.
wonwoo hadn't known what to expect when it came to living with you, because as much as you were best friends, you'd never shared a living space together beyond a night's time. now over the course of the last twenty five months, he's become accustomed to you, and he's afraid he's ruined it all by realizing he's fallen in love with you far too late.
part of that is definitely your fault, he reasons. he wouldn't blame seungcheol for falling in love, either.
the thought of you on your date hurts him enough that he picks up his pen and scratches something on the notepad lying next to his laptop. his strokes are harsh and drawn without care, but when he stops, it's a rough sketch of your favourite flowers.
he lets out a bitter laugh. everything always circles back to you, in the end.
you don't ask for anything on your birthday, but wonwoo always gets you a bouquet of your favourite flowers alongside your gifts, because he knows how much you love them.
he wonders if seungcheol knows they're your favourite.
he's shaken out of his thoughts when you open the door to your shared house and step inside, almost tiptoeing, like you're afraid of making noise. you freeze when you see him looking at you. he wonders how long he's been sitting there, mind blank but also filled with thoughts of you. it's eating him up like a slow poison from the inside, but he forces himself to hold your gaze.
you look amazing. more than that, you look happy.
he's not jealous. he's never jealous when you're happy. but he just wants you to be happy with him, and he doesn't know if he's enough.
he wants to know what it'd be like to take you out. he wants to know everything that makes you smile, because he still learns something new about you almost every day. he wants to know what it's like to hold hands with you, kiss you goodnight, and wake up every morning knowing you're there by his side and his side only.
he wants more than he can possibly have.
"hey, wonwoo," you say, shutting the door behind you before you take off your shoes. "couldn't sleep?"
"no. i wanted to wait till you came back."
you frown at him. "i told you not to."
as if he could ever do that. whether you go out on dates, or to parties with your friends, wonwoo can't relax till he knows you're back home, safe. he just shrugs. this is one thing he'll always be stubborn about.
"did you have dinner?" you ask, ruffling his hair and moving past him to presumably fix yourself a snack before you go to bed.
"yeah," he says, looking back at the laptop. the letters are still jumbled, so he cleans his glasses before putting them back on. "unless last night's pizza doesn't count."
"that's a lot of words for no," you say. "are instant noodles okay?"
"of course."
wonwoo watches as you move around, putting back today afternoon's dried dishes into their respective places and filling a glass of water for yourself.
"did you have fun tonight?"
"yeah," you say, a smile on your face. "cheol picked out this movie i've been wanting to watch for a while. then we went to this hole-in-the-wall cafe that was surprisingly nice. and then he dropped me home."
wonwoo tries not to react at the nickname you already have for him. he's not jealous, but it's getting harder to convince himself of that. he looks at your jacket. it looks...not quite your style.
"is that new?" he asks, pointing at it.
"what? oh, this? seungcheol asked me to return it to him the next time. it was pretty cold today."
wonwoo's hand crumples the note before he realizes. next time? why couldn't he have realized how much he loved you before all of this had to happen?
"you okay?" you ask, turning around to look at him. "come here and tell me if it tastes fine."
"it's just instant noodles," he pretends to grumble, but waits for you to feed him some. he can see you're a bit tired. he wishes you'd fall asleep on him, the way you do when you're stubborn enough to want to keep him company with whatever he's doing.
"tastes good," he hums, licking his lips.
did he just imagine your eyes looking at them before they moved back to his face?
"great. hand me those bowls from there?"
you using him for his height is a running joke he hopes never gets old. wonwoo takes out the cutlery too, but stops when he sees an angry red line on your hand.
"what happened to you?" he asks, holding your hand so he can see it clearly. he tries not to think about how much bigger his hand is. the cut isn't bleeding, but it's still there, starkly visible against your skin.
you hesitate. "i'm not sure. i remember my hand hit something in the cafe, but i didn't see it till now."
"and you didn't bother checking it once you got home?"
you look at him. "i didn't even feel it that much, woo."
"you could have tetanus for all you know!"
"it's just a cut! it's hardly that ser—"
you stop talking when wonwoo switches on the tap and turns off the stove. "take this off," he says, pointing to the jacket. it shouldn't even be in your home. he shouldn't be feeling like this in the first place.
you comply wordlessly, hand limp in his as he washes it thoroughly, before patting it dry with the towel near the sink and finding a bandaid in the cabinet above. you have a propensity for getting hurt randomly and wonwoo's glad to be prepared.
"done," he says, letting go of your hand. you're still looking at him.
"kiss it better?" you ask. there's a mischievous look in your eyes.
and who is he to refuse? he takes your hand back, gently pressing a kiss to it, making sure it's not too forceful. when your eyes meet again, he gets the feeling there's something in the air. even you seem to be aware of it. it's like the tipping point before the scales lose their balance, like the calm before the storm; it's now or never.
"one more time?" you ask, moving a bit closer. wonwoo swears he forgets how to breathe. and he definitely isn't imagining your eyes on his lips this time.
"always," he says, before he leans down to press his lips to yours.
it's magic. there's no other word for it. wonwoo feels like he's transcending worlds when he feels your lips against his, trying to press yourself into him when you wrap your hands around his waist.
when you pull apart, wonwoo swears you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life. this is what he wants, and he'll be damned if he doesn't try to find out what could have been.
"please don't go out with him again?"
"...what?"
wonwoo swallows, letting go of your hand. his bravery now comes and goes like waves on the seashore, tides threatening to spill out everything he feels about you in one careless motion.
"i don't want you to go out with him again."
"because...we kissed?"
"because i'd never let you get hurt if you were with me."
"you...what?"
"i like you," he says, taking a step closer. "i don't know what that meant to you, but i like you so much, and i hate that it took me this long to realize it. i want...i want you to give me a chance."
"you like me?" you ask, voice smaller than before.
he nods. "i want to...take you out on a date. wherever you want. i want to make you laugh. it's been killing me, thinking about you with him."
"oh, my god," you say, burying your face in your hands. wonwoo's heart drops. "why would you— i've been trying to get over you all this while, going out on dates with him so i can stop thinking about you that way, and now you're just...giving me what i've always wanted?
wonwoo feels like he's been drenched in ice-cold water. "you like me?" he parrots. he doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he pulls you in for a hug. even this simple gesture suddenly feels like a brand new thing in the light of your recent confessions.
your hands find their place around his waist again, your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "of course i do. i'm surprised you didn't realize earlier. it's been...a while."
this is news to him. "how long, exactly?"
you bow your head, not meeting his eyes, "i'm not telling you now."
"you can't hide anything from me, you know."
he can feel your smile against his chest. "i know. let me just have this for now?"
"forever."
you tighten your grip around his waist and just stand with him.
wonwoo makes a mental note to get you a bunch of real flowers.
309 notes · View notes
coveredinsweetpea · 2 years
Text
hiding [eddie munson x reader]
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A/n: this is the first thing I've written in MONTHS so don't @ me!!! Idk where this came from, but this man brought me my inspiration back!!
Summary: Eddie sneaks in through your window while your parents are still home. Stuff happens. (SMUT-ish) 2.1k
Warnings: nothing major really. unprotected sex, a little bit of name calling, the risk of getting caught... it's a chill one :)
-
Over the sound of the water hitting the shower floor, you heard the door open, and sighed. "Jesus Christ, can't you kno- Eddie!?"
With a little devious smile on his pretty lips, he slipped inside the bathroom and closed the door behind him without a sound, "Hi, baby"
"How did you get in here?" you asked, slightly enraged but still amused. You were still hidden behind the curtain, with only your head peeking out.
"Through your bedroom window, obviously"
"You can't do this, Eddie, my parents are at home!"
"You think I don't know that?" he shrugged, checking himself out in the foggy mirror. "I would've used the front door otherwise, you made me a key, remember?"
"For emergencies!"
"This is an emergency" Eddie grinned, gently tugging at the shower curtain, "I missed you"
"You're such an idiot, Eddie, if my-"
A swift knock on the door interrupted you. "Y/n?"
"Mom!?"
Your heart nearly stopped as Eddie's eyes threatened to fall out of the orbits.
"Honey, I need that hand lotion we got last week"
"Yeah, I think it's in my room" you lied, looking straight at the little container as it sat peacefully on the edge of the sink.
"No, I'm pretty sure it's in here. I saw it this morning"
"Wait! I'll give it to you in a minute"
"I can get it" she said, and time nearly stopped as you saw the door knob starting to turn.
Before you could even register what was going on, Eddie had jumped inside the bathtub. He was fully clothed, muddy boots included, standing one head taller than you as water poured down his head and body. 
You both just stood there, frozen, looking at one another and trying not to burst into laughter.
"Hun, me and dad are gonna go out tonight for a bit, ok?"
"Great, have fun!"
"And your brother is sleeping over at Tom's house, so you'll be on your own"
"That's ok" you said in hopes that she'd be done faster. 
Hearing your mother's words, Eddie was barely able to contain himself. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed his lips to your ear. "Think of all the rooms I'm gonna fuck you in"
You didn't even get a chance to react before your mum continued speaking. "You know, this would've been a great opportunity for you to have a boy over"
"Mom!"
"What?" she exclaimed, trying to sound offended. "It's been a year, it's time you got over Steve, baby"
At this point, you didn't even dare look in Eddie's direction. "I am over Steve, mom, remember? I broke up with him"
"That's my girl" Eddie whispered, playing with a strand of your wet hair.
"I still don't understand why you did that, he was perfect for you" your mother continued.
"Yeah, yeah, maybe he was. I don't know, I don't care, I didn't like him like that anymore, now can you let me shower?"
"How about Jason? I met his mother at the grocery store, she seems like an amazing woman"
At that point, you thanked the lord for the shitty pipes and the loud water stream, because otherwise, your mother would've definitely heard the gagging noises Eddie made, and the little yelp he let out when you elbowed him in the stomach.
"I hate Jason, can you leave now? Please?"
"I just feel like you're missing out on things, honey. Before you know it you'll be on your own, working everyday, I don't want you to let these beautiful times pass by, that's all"
"Yes, mum, you're right. But how about we talk about this tomorrow, huh? We'll go out for a coffee or something"
"Sure, hun, whatever you say" she mumbled and then you heard her grab the knob. But the door didn't open. "Promise me you won't spend all night doing homework, ok? You spent more time at the library these past few weeks than I did throughout college"
You saw Eddie grin, and bend down to whisper to you, "Is that what you tell your parents when you come over?"
"Yeah, mhm" you answered them both. "No homework, I promise"
"Ok, baby. I left some money on your desk, order some food, ok? Mama loves you, bye baby!"
"Bye mom!"
"Jesus Christ!" Eddie exclaimed as soon as your mother had left the room. He pushed his wet hair back from his face, and started undressing himself. First, his beloved jean vest, then the leather jacket, the not-so-muddy-anymore boots and then his jeans.
"Eddie, I'm sorry to do this, baby, there's no way we're fucking in the shower"
It was like his whole world crashed on top of him. "What do you mean? Why not?"
"If you think I could get turned on right now, especially in this shower, after the discussion I had with my mom, you're mistaken"
"I bet I can change that," he grinned. 
"Not a chance, Eddie" you laughed, and pushed the curtain away. You were one foot out of the bathtub when he grabbed your waist and dragged you back in. "Eddie!"
"I just showered at home, I didn't get undressed for nothing, do you have any idea how difficult it is to put on wet jeans?"
"Jesus Christ, Eddie" 
"I'll have you screaming that" he chuckled, pinning you against the cold, marble wall. His lips immediately found yours, and as his tongue pushed inside your mouth, his feet parted your legs. 
"Eddie, no" you giggled, nudging him away.
"We're already here, we're already naked, I'm already hard. I don't see what's stopping us?"
"That's all it takes, huh? For you to be hard?"
Eddie raised an eyebrow, and without even a flinch, he pushed his middle finger inside your pussy, and the simple fact that it slipped right in proved his point. 
"Any arguments left?" he grinned, and pushed one more finger inside you.
You let your head fall forward to stifle your moans into his shoulder, as he kept a very steady pace against your core. 
"I hate you"
"Hate fucking isn't my forte, sweetheart, but we can work something out"
After that, Eddie didn't waste too much time working you up anymore. And he didn't really have to. He gave his cock a few pumps and aligned himself at your entrance, pushing his whole length in with one swift motion. 
A rather loud moan broke past your lips, but with the shower still running, you didn't bother to keep quiet. He did shush you however, in-between the kisses he peppered along the side of your neck. 
His thrusts were slow but deep, moving your body up and down against the wall as you held on to his shoulders. His fingers were digging holes into your hips, as a way to let out the pressure that was building inside of him. Eddie, unlike you, still tried to keep quiet.
"Fuck, ok, ok-" you panted, raking your nails across his scalp before grabbing hold of his roots, "Faster, please, go faster"
As if he didn't want to. The fact that he had been rock hard ever since he had climbed in through your window didn't help with pacing at all. Ever since he entered you, he was on the edge of bliss, but hell if he wasn't gonna have you come first. 
"Look at me, look at me, sweetheart" Eddie whispered, pulling away from you. Your eyes locked just as he picked up his pace, just slightly. 
You nodded yes, eyes ready to roll back when he brought his hand between your bodies and started rubbing at your clit. 
"Look into my eyes, baby, come on. Don't be like this"
"Yeah, fuck" you moaned, swallowed thickly and forced your head upright. 
His thumb worked you hard and fast, in a pattern he already knew so well. It took him about two weeks to learn what your body loved and craved, and he had been using it against you ever since. 
"Come on my cock, yeah? Come on, baby, I'm right here, let yourself go. That's my good girl, show me how good I can fuck you" 
And his whole plan would've worked. He knew what set you off, and only needed a few more moments in order to have you screaming his name. But another knock on the door interrupted him.
"Y/n, honey?" your mother's voice rang through the bathroom.
"Fuck-" you whispered, tears welled up in your eyes. "Yeah?"
"We're leaving, alright?"
"Ok, bye, mom!"
"Bye, hun!"
As soon as she left, both you and Eddie relaxed, not having moved one muscle ever since the knock. You expected him to pick up where he left off, but instead he didn't, he just watched you, his cock still buried deep inside your pussy. 
"What?"
Eddie licked his lips. "You little whore"
Your eyes widened in surprise, but the little smile that curled the corners of your lips betrayed your true emotions.
"What?"
Without any warning, Eddie pulled out and let you down. You were about to protest and cling to him like you always did when you wanted something, but he was faster. 
He spun you around to face the wall, and pressed himself against your back. "Think I didn't feel the way you clenched around my cock? Getting caught fucking the outcast made you like that? Hm?"
"Eddie!" you whined, trying to arch yourself back against his cock.
"I think you love the fact that your mom hates me. Don't you?"
He pressed his cock at your entrance and leaned closer to your ear. "Is that why you came and basically jumped me a few days ago at rehearsals? When I had to fuck you in the bathroom twice before you finally calmed down? Wasn't that just right after that article came out? Where everyone trash talked me? Accused me and my friends of all those horrible things?" 
"Fuck- fuck, ok, maybe!"
"Oh, I was wrong about you, sweetheart"
"Eddie!" you cried, "Please!"
"Please, what?" 
"Fuck me, please"
"I don't know..." he teased, and you couldn't take it anymore.
"Eddie!! Just please, please, just fuck me. I'm begging you, please"
"That's my good girl" he chuckled and kissed the side of your neck. "Was that so hard?"
You barely managed to shake your head before he entered you again. This time however, he didn't waste any more time. Balls deep from the very first thrust, he worked up a pace that had you almost crying out in pleasure in seconds. 
"Fuck, I'm close, Eddie"
"I know you are, baby" he said and wrapped his fingers in your hair. He pulled you up against your chest and held you tight as he continued to ram his cock into you. "Come for me, doll, come on"
And you did. Moments after, the orgasm washed over you like never before. Your body trembled and you felt exhausted, but he held you up, fucking himself into you until he was finished too. 
"Fuck-" Eddie breathed out, letting his weight fall against the wall right beside you. 
Suddenly feeling empty without him so tightly wrapped around your body, you pushed yourself up and moved over to lean against his chest as his cum leaked down your thighs.
With the remaining bits of energy inside his body, Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the top of your head.
"I love you," you said.
"I love you, sweetheart"
Knowing very well this was only the beginning of a very long night, you and Eddie soon left the shower and headed downstairs to order food. You settled on a monstrous pizza with a little bit of everything before going into the kitchen to make some drinks. 
"You know what you said about my mom, about how I like the fact that she hates you?"
"Mhm" Eddie nodded as he poured vodka into your cup.
"You're right"
"Of course I am," he chuckled. "When have I ever been wrong?"
"I mean it! I wanna tell her about us!"
"I obviously don't wanna cause you any problems, doll, but I'm all for that"
"I'm gonna do it tomorrow, I'm done hiding you, I want everyone to know we're together"
With a ridiculously big smile on his lips, Eddie walked over to you, "You have no idea how happy that makes me"
"Hiding was fun though"
"I can think of stuff," Eddie laughed.
Like every time you hung out with Eddie, time flew right by. Before you knew it, the pizza had arrived and the drinks weren't even ready yet.
"I'll go get it, '' Eddie announced and sprinted out of the kitchen. 
You couldn't help but laugh at yourself, thinking of him wearing only his wet pair of underwear and your Pink Floyd t-shirt that didn't even get close to his ass as he opened the door.
"Um, Y/n?" Eddie yelled from the front door.
"Yeah?" you asked as you jogged over.
"I don't think you're gonna have to wait until tomorrow to tell your mom about us" he said just as your eyes landed on your half naked boyfriend who was standing next to your very pissed off mother.
"Fuck"
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the-froschamethyst4 · 3 months
Text
Reality Check
𖤐Pairing: Husband! Soap x Wife! Raeder
𖤐Pronouns: She/Her
𖤐Warnings: fluff, angst, harsh language, spoiled brat, married couple, slight comparing to siblings, arguing, happy ending,
𖤐Summary: Your young daughter hangs out with the wrong crowd and your oldest child gives her a bit of a reality check
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Kiara was surrounded by her 'friends' at lunch. Kiara was a 7th grader in middle school. Her mom and dad were able to get her to the same school her older went to.
A high-end private school.
Her older brother Ryker held a good reputation in the school and everyone knew Kiara because of Ryker.
But Kiara was just making herself look stupid hanging out with these type of girls and not girls that actually wanna be her friends. What I mean is Kiara hangs out with the rich, spoiled brat, daddies money girls.
They pack around Louis Vuitton bags, Gucci belts holding up their skirts, end up makeup, and high end skin care that they don't need but yell at their parents for.
Kiara didn't have that, she'd be lucky if she even got the latest new phone. Her mom worked as an assistant to a Law Firm and her dad was in the Military and wasn't home a lot, so her mom was doing a lot of the work.
A mom working 40 hours a week, barely a husband that comes home. Ryker sometimes had to step in and be a parent a few times. But he doesn't blame his parents. They're just busy people and try to be there for their kids.
Kiara laughed with her 'friends' as they made fun of the group of girls who liked to play video games. Kiara deep down liked to play video games, but stopped to fit in with her friends.
"Oh, girls, I'm having a sleepover, tomorrow, for my birthday, don't forget to bring gifts," her friend Lily says. Lily was like...Regena George, popular and rich and everyone 'liked' her.
Not really
The girls giggled as Kiara just smiled at Lily.
"Bring expensive gifts," Lily emphasized on the word expensive.
Kiara didn't have any of her own money, and Y/n was strict on what to buy for a 12-13 year-old.
"Oh I already know what I'm bringing."
"Same."
"Yeah, you're going to LOVE it, Lily."
"Kiara?"
"Huh?"
"Are you coming?" Lily asked, placing her hand on her arm after she got done picking at her newly fresh nails.
"Yeah, I think so...I'd-"
"Have to ask your mom?" Lily mocked Kiara. Kiara used to say she'd have to ask her mom a lot and Lily was tired of it and 'taught' Kiara how to do whatever she wants without her mom knowing, but her mom was good, she knows almost everything that Kiara is up to.
"No," Kiara says. "Nah, fuck my mom, I'll come, I'll catch a ride," Kiara says.
"Good."
The girls kept talking as Kiara rubbed her arm.
---------
2:30PM
"MAMA! I'M HOME!!" Kiara yells from downstairs and kicked her shoes off at the front door.
"She's not home," Ryker came around the corner with an apple in his hands.
"Is she at work?"
"She was just called in, I got home an 1 hour ago and she was asked to come in," he says.
"Oh good, can you take me to the mall?"
"Why?" Ryker questioned her.
"Because it's Lily's birthday tomorrow and I want to get her a gift," Kiara says, placing her bag on a bar stool.
"Who cares, and mom won't let you go."
"She won't have to know, if you just take me."
"Hell no, I'm not taking you."
"WHY NOT!?" Kiara yells.
"Because mom hates Lily, you know this, but yet you still choose to be friends with her."
"Because Lily is nice to me."
"She treats you like a slave, Kiara," Ryker tells her.
"No, she doesn't."
"Did she say get an expensive gift?" Ryker raised his eyebrow.
"Yeah and?"
"With what money are you going to get her an expensive gift?"
"You can help me-"
"Fuck no, Kiara!"
"THIS IS SO UNFAIR!!"
"HOW IS IT UNFAIR!?"
"Because why do I bother going to some fancy private rich kid school if I can't even get expensive things?"
"You should be fucking lucky you even got into that school, Kiara. Mom and dad worked their asses off just to get you thought the fucking door," Ryker tells her.
"Kids?"
"Dad," both kids say at the same time.
"Where's your mom?"
"Work, she got called in-dad tell Kiara she can't go to Lily's house tomorrow."
"Lily?" Soap was confused.
"She's some girl that treats Kiara like a slave."
"SHE DOES NOT!! OH MY FUCKING GOD, RYKER!!"
"HEY!" Soap yells at his daughter. "What the hell did you just say?" Kiara knew she fucked up when the word slipped past her lips.
"Dad-"
"Room. now. When your mom comes home, we're having a discussion," Soap points to the stairs and Kiara had hot tears in her eyes and rushed upstairs and Soap heard her door slam shut. "What the hell was going on?" Soap asked, Ryker.
--------
9:00PM
Y/n had come home, taking her heels off at the front door and saw Soap coming towards her.
"Soap," she smiles at him, she placed her hands on his forearms kissing his lips.
"Hi, love," he says into the kiss. "We have a bit of an issue."
"What kind of issue?" She asked.
---------
Ryker had explained everything, Y/n and Soap went upstairs to their daughters bedroom. Y/n knocked and heard a low grumble. She opens the door and both parents walk in.
"Kiara?"
"I'm tired...leave me alone..."
"Sit up, Kiara," Soap says, a bit stern, Y/n placed her hand on his shoulder as a 'calm down.'
"Kiara, I want to know from you what happened?" Y/n asked.
"Fine," Kiara sits up. "I HAVE A RICH FRIEND, WHO WANTS AN EXPENSIVE BIRTHDAY GIFT BUT I CAN'T EVEN GET IT FOR HER BECAUSE I HAVE NO MONEY AND NONE OF YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME GET IF FOR HER!"
"Is this rich friend, Lily? You know how I feel about Lily-"
"MOM! PLEASE! I DON'T CARE, SHE IS MY FRIEND!"
"Kiara if you don't stop yelling at your mother-" Y/n stops Soap.
"Kiara Amelia McTavish," Kiara knows the full name isn't a good sign. "You are a lucky girl, you wanna know why?"
"Why mom?" Kiara asked a bit annoyed.
"Because," Y/n walks into the bedroom and sat next to Kiara. "You have a mom and dad that loves you, an older brother that paved the way for you for middle school, but...I am tired of you coming home and asking for outrageous things...last week you asked for a Prada bag-"
"A month ago, you asked for a Gucci belt," Soap joins in.
"This isn't you asking for outrageous and expensive thing."
"Then what is the point of going to a rich kid school, if we're poor?"
"For an education, and we're not poor," Soap says. "We just don't think a 13-year-old needs such expensive things, your brother doesn't even have such expensive things..."
"Why do you think you want them, Kiara?" Y/n asked, placing her hand on Kiara's back.
"Because I want to fit in with my friends, they all have expensive things and carry the most expensive and luxury things, I want to fit in, I feel out of place when I sit with them at lunch," Kiara says.
"Kiara, you are an amazing and smart young girl, you shouldn't need expensive things to feel like you need to fit in...aren't there other girls at the school that don't have expensive things?"
"Yeah but...Lily hates them, she makes fun of them all the time, if I leave the friend group to have those girls as my friends, Lily won't speak or hang out with me."
"Who cares, Kiara."
"Ryker-"
"No mom, I'm sorry, but I am so tired of hearing, Kiara only talk about Lily and what Lily wants, she never thinks about her own feelings only Lily's. Kiara, she treats you like a slave. You are my little sister and I am tired of this Lily girl."
"I agree with Ryker," Soap says.
Kiara rolled her eyes at her family.
"Kiara," she looks at her mom. "I want you to do the right thing...okay?"
"Whatever."
"Till then, you're grounded," Soap says.
"WHAT WHY!?"
"Because of the yelling at your mother and cussing at me." She rolled her eyes again. "And for rolling your eyes at us," Soap and Ryker left her bedroom as Y/n moved her daughter dark brown hair from her face and kissing her temple.
"I know you'll do the right thing, Kiara," she says, getting off the bed and heading to her bedroom to change from her work clothes.
--------
Kiara was laying on her stomach on her phone and having her laptop play a random YouTube video. She was on Amazon looking at gifts for Lily, but she shuts her phone off and tossed it on her pillow.
She falls on her back and looked up at the ceiling.
"I'm not going tomorrow," Kiara says as she walked into the dinning room, Ryker was eating leftover spaghetti.
"Okay?" Ryker says as he was still eating.
"Where's mom and dad?"
"Eating out, tonight, date night," he says.
"Are they bring anything back?"
"Maybe, this is just to hold me over till they get back," he says picking at the leftovers. "So you made up your mind?"
"Yeah...you were right..." she hates to admit that to him, since Ryker has a 'big ego' as Kiara says. "Lily is a bitch."
"Aren't you grounded for cursing?"
"You gonna snitch to dad?"
"No," he smirks.
--------
Y/n and Soap came back kicking their shoes off at the front door and seeing Ryker on the couch watching TV and Kiara on her phone.
"We brought some food back," Y/n says, placing a plastic bag of food on the marble counter. Kiara and Ryker jump off the couch and started to open the bag and pulling out their food.
"Thanks," Ryker says for the both of them.
"Kiara," Soap opens his hand, letting her know she shouldn't have her phone. She groans and slaps her phone on his palm. "You'll get it back later."
"When's later?"
"Friday," he says. She tossed her head back knowing she'll have to wait a week to get her phone back.
Ryker smirks and Kiara punched his arm. Y/n just giggled at her kids.
After a while Soap and Y/n were snuggled against each other watching their favorite show as Ryker was in his room playing video games and Kiara was scrolling on her laptop.
She then saw in the bottom corner a notification from Lily to the group chat. She opened the message and read it.
Lily: The party is actually going to be at our Lake house Here's the address
Jade: OMG it's huge, I'm DEFINITLY coming
Angel: Oh yes! I'll so be there
Lily: Kiara, are you coming?
Kiara started to type and she knows everyone could see bubbles popping up letting them know she was typing, but she stops before she hits send and started to backspace it.
She left the group chat and started to watch her YouTube again.
Then the notifications started to pour in. Them asking her questions if she changed her mind, did she forget she was typing and then a personal message from Lily popped up making Kiara click it and see.
Lily: Hey, saw you were texting in the group chat, the location changed to my lake house, are you coming, if so can you bring snacks and soda?
Kiara: Actually Lily, I'm not Have someone else bring your snacks and soda, ask Angel or something, I'm not coming
Lily: Did you not ask your mom or something? Did your brother say no on the ride? I can send our butler out there to go get you
Kiara: Fuck no, keep your butler away from my house, I have made up my mind to not come to your lame ass birthday party
Lily: WHAT!? KIARA MCTAVISH WE ARE NO LONGER FRIENDS AND I DON'T WANT YOU SITTING WITH US AT LUNCH!!!
Kiara: Fine by me, bitch
Kiara blocked Lily's number along with the rest of the 'friends' numbers. She closed her laptop and got under the covers and fell asleep.
--------
Monday
Kiara saw her old friends eating and laughing and Lily was showing off her new gifts.
Kiara looked past the group and saw the girls that played video games just behind them playing on their switches and seeing like they were having fun together.
Kiara put on a brave face and walked past her old group of friends to the other girls.
Lily and the others all gave Kiara a nasty look as she passed them but she ignored their stares and glares and mentally imagined herself flipping off Jade, sticking her tongue out at Angel and slapping the shit out of Lily.
"Hi."
"Oh hi, Kiara."
"Can I sit with you?"
"Sure," the girl moved over letting Kiara sit next to her as Kiara placed her bag between her feet and placed her lunch on the metal table.
"Have you ever played this?" She asked Kiara.
"No," Kiara shakes her head.
"Here, try it," she gives Kiara her switch and showed Kiara how to play it. "Wow, you did that so easily."
"I use to play video games," she says.
"Here..." she writes down her number and gives it to Kiara. "We should play together sometime."
"I'd like that," Kiara gives her a soft smile and saved her number.
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multi-fandomfuckboy · 8 months
Text
Stranger Than Fiction
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Part 24: Tension
Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)
Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 24, Part 25 (Coming Soon)...
AN: Hope you guys like this one! Word Count: 5,112 Warnings: Language, Suggestive themes, panic attacks
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Friday morning you wake up with the violent urge to vomit. You move on autopilot, cooking, dressing, brushing your teeth, kissing your mom goodnight. You can’t bring yourself to eat anything, not trusting your stomach to hold it down with the way it's doing somersaults. 
It doesn't help that when you got home last night all you could think about was Billy. You had to force yourself to strip off his clothes and take a shower, hoping it would calm you down. It didn’t. Everytime you closed your eyes you saw him, how he had looked lying next to you, how he had felt under you, his body against yours, his arms around you, his smell, his taste…
Needless to say, you didn't get much sleep. But somewhere in the night your thoughts shift from Billy to the upcoming exam. You know that you’re not ready. You’ve been studying constantly but you have the sinking feeling that it’s not going to be enough. 
When Steve picks you up he’s all smiles, excited for the last day before winter break. He tells you about the ski trip he and his family take every year to Colorado, but everything he says goes in one ear and out the other. Your mind swirls as all the information Billy has crammed into your mind over the past week tries to organize itself. The twisting in your stomach only gets worse when Steve pulls into the school parking lot, you can feel the panic growing, humming in the back of your mind that just won't settle. 
“Hey, I’ve got to head to the bathroom before class, I don’t feel good.” You say, unintentionally cutting Steve off. His eyes turn to you, looking you over, his happy expression quickly shifting into one of worry. 
“Oh, okay. Are you alright?” He asks, clearly concerned. 
“I’m fine. I just need a minute.” you tell him, not even able to give him a fake smile as you quickly open your door. You climb out of the car taking a deep breath, letting the cold air penetrate your lungs, before you start towards the school. Steve follows after you, rushing to catch up. The two of you enter the school, other students rushing around you, idle chatter filling the air, only adding to your growing anxiety.
“You sure? Do you need anything? I can run to Malvald’s really quick and get you something.” He offers, gently grabbing your arm. For some reason the touch feels suffocating to you, and without thinking you rip your arm out of his grasp whipping around to face him. 
“Jesus! I’m fine Steve! I just need a minute, alone!” You snap. Steve’s eyes initially widen in surprise at your outburst but he quickly ducks his head, trying to hide the hurt you know is clearly written on his face. You immediately wish you could take it back. 
“Right. I’m- uh- I’m sorry.” Steve says, taking a slight step back, shoving his hands into his pockets. 
“Steve, no. I’m just-” you try to explain, taking a step towards him. He takes another step back.
“It’s okay, really. I’m going to get to class.” Steve says, taking a step around you. He gives you a small smile that looks so forced in your eyes. “I hope you feel better.” He says, before turning fully and walking away. 
You watch him retreat down the hall, you don't miss how he hangs his head rubbing at the back of his neck as he goes. You feel like such a jerk. Steve was just trying to help and you bit his head off. You groan, heading towards the gym you ignore the few pairs of eyes that follow you as you go, having seen the interaction. You didn’t mean to get upset like that, it’s just that this test feels like it’s life or death. To make matters worse you should have been spending every last second studying instead of daydreaming about Billy. 
You pace back and forth in front of the lockers between the bathrooms outside the gym, anxiously running your fingers through your hair. 
You’re going to fail this exam, and then history all together. No college is going to want you with grades like that. Then on top of all that, you just pushed away one of your only friends because you couldn’t get a grip. You feel like a psycho. The anxiety and shame mix forming a pit in your gut, all of it bubbling up inside of you causing your hands to shake. This is ridiculous! You’ve helped save the world twice, nearly dying in the process multiple times, but a history test is what threatens to send you into a spiraling panic.  
“Fuck!” You yell, a burst of anger shooting though you. Turning you slam your foot into the metal lockers, filling the empty hallway with a loud bang. It hurts your foot but you kick out again, denting the metal. 
“Whoa there, loca! Angry and destructive are my things.” Billy’s lilting voice calls from your left. You don’t respond, taking off your bag and pulling out his food for the day. He comes to a stop in front of you. “Don't tell me I’ve been a bad influence on you.” He teases, his white teeth flashing in his usual smug grin. 
You keep your eyes down, not wanting him to see the tears of frustration that threaten to blur your vision. You’ve heard his thoughts on feeling sorry for yourself and are not in the mood for another rant about how useless it is. 
When you don't respond, Billy’s smile fades. You can feel his eyes scrutinizing your every breath. 
“You okay?” he asks, the teasing tone in his voice gone.
“I’m fine.” you say, keeping your voice firm trying to even out your rapid breathing. “Just take the food, I have to get to class.” you say, holding out the containers to him, fighting to stop the shaking in your hands. 
Billy takes a step forward, reaching out to take the food. Instead of grabbing the containers he grabs your wrist tugging you towards him, causing you to stumble forward almost running into him. 
“Hey!” You protest, getting your feet under you again. Before you can say anything else Billy’s hand is on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes are narrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, looking over your face with such intensity you could almost confuse it with anger. But you’ve seen him angry and this is not that. 
“What’s going on? Why do you look like you’re about to be sick or burst into tears any second?” He asks. You’re surprised by the lack of judgment in his question but still you open your mouth to tell him that you’re fine. He cuts you off. “And don't give me any of that ‘I’m fine’ bullshit. We both know it’s a fucking lie so don’t even try it.” he tells you firmly.
You hate that your body's response to him looking at you like this, asking if you’re okay, demanding that you tell him if something is wrong, isn't anger. Instead more tears fill your eyes, blinking once they finally spill down your cheeks. 
Billy’s eyes widen momentarily. He lets go of your wrist and chin, using both of his hands to hold your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks. 
“I’m going to fail history!” You blurt out, pulling his hands away from you and taking a step back, wiping furiously at your face. 
“Is that what this is about?” Billy asks, disbelievingly. He shakes his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.
“I’m serious Billy!” you groan, glaring at him. “I’m going to fail history because my brain is fucking broken or something!” 
“Hey! Listen to me crazy, you’re not going to fail.” Billy says firmly, stepping towards you again, placing both of his hands on your shoulders. He keeps his eyes leveled on you, his voice steady. “You’ve got this. Do you really think I would have put as much time and effort into teaching you if I thought you couldn’t nail this thing?” he asks, lifting a brow. “You’re cooking may be good but I value my time more than anything.” he tells you seriously. You keep your eyes on him, searching his face for the lie.
“You’re going to pass.” he says with such conviction, you almost believe him. “But you can’t do anything until you calm down.” He tells you, his hands tightening slightly on your shoulders. “Take a deep breath, count to ten, and keep telling yourself ‘I’ve got this’. Okay?” he instructs. “Confidence is 90% mental. Let me see you do it.” You know his eyes are on you even as you close your eyes, filling your lungs with air, counting silently in your mind repeating the affirmation. 
“Do it again.” he orders. You repeat the process, slowly feeling your pulse regulate and the panic slither back from your mind. You hear Billy chuckle. 
“Good. I think oxygen is finally getting to your brain.” Billy says, causing you to open your eyes and immediately roll them. But part of you thinks he must be right, you are still nervous but the paralyzing fear you felt is nearly gone. You wonder where he learned that. If he has ever had to use it himself?
“Thank you, Billy.” You say, hoping he can see how much you mean it. 
“Don’t thank me yet, loca. You can do that after you ace this test.” he says, another smirk flashing his perfect teeth. Letting go of your shoulders with one more reassuring squeeze he takes the containers of food from your hands. Without another word, the warning bell rings, both of you head to your respective classes. 
The rest of the day you continue to repeat Billy’s calming routine whenever you start to feel your panic rising up. You practice all through lunch while you study, unable to find Steve who must still be upset about this morning. You know you will have to see him after basketball practice, there is no way he is going to leave you without a ride home. 
You are actively counting to ten as you walk towards history. You don’t notice Billy fall into step beside you only glancing at him when you feel his hand slip into yours. It’s subtle and in the bustling hallway it would look like he simply brushed against you. Neither of you stop walking as he leans in slightly.
“You’ve got this.” he says firmly, giving your hand a squeeze before letting it fall, both of you entering the class. 
During the exam you focus on remembering all the stories Billy told you. All the long nights of putting the pieces into a cohesive plot. You recognize a lot of the material even though there are a few questions that stump you. You have to take a few deep breaths when your classmates begin to rise one at a time as they finish. You're not even halfway done as they set their completed tests on Mr. Willson’s desk, exiting the classroom. Billy is among the first to leave. You watch him confidently swagger to the front setting his test down. His eyes meet yours as he walks to the door, he gives you a nod and a quick wink before exiting. 
You don’t finish until the last minute of class, reading and rereading every question checking your answers. It’s only you left in the classroom as you rise taking a deep breath walking to the front. Mr. Willson watches you, one brow raised as you place your test in front of him. 
“Grades will be posted by the end of the day.” he says stoically, taking your test and placing it on the large stack to his right. You exit quickly, the urge to snatch your test back just to check one more thing is overwhelming. 
Slinging your bag over your shoulder you exit into the busy hallway. You notice the palpable energy that fills the air, everyone excited for the last class before winter break officially starts. 
You spot Billy leaning against the lockers ahead of you, casually scanning the hallway with his practiced indifference. You wonder if he’s been waiting all this time for you. You start towards him, hoping to talk about the questions on the test you weren't sure about. His eyes meet yours but before you can reach him someone steps directly into your path. You stop short, nearly running directly into Steve’s chest. 
“Hey.” he greets you, a hesitant smile already in place. 
“Hey.” you respond, taking a small step back. You aren't sure how to act after what happened this morning. You want to apologize but the words are escaping you. There is a pause as both of you look at eachother, students hurry past, breaking around you like a rock in a stream. 
“About this morning, I-”
“I’m sorry about this mo-” you both say at the same time. It manages to break the tension, causing both of you to chuckle. It lightens your heart seeing a more genuine smile on his face. 
“Sorry, you go first.” Steve says, gesturing for you to continue.
“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for what happened this morning. I know that you were just trying to help.” You say, keeping your eyes on him despite the urge to look at your shoes. You have lost friends by not saying what needs to be said, and you would be damned if you let it happen again. “I’m sorry I snapped at you like that.” you say earnestly. Steve shakes his head at your words. 
“No, I’m sorry too. I know I can be a bit much sometimes. I didn’t mean to smother you or anything. I just want you to know if you ever need space I’m cool with that, I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me everything.” He apologies, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You smile slightly, feeling all the tension between the two of you dissipate. 
“Apology accepted.” you say extending your hand. “Friends?” you ask, lifting a brow. Steve glances at your offered hand, his smile growing. 
“Friends.” Steve confirms, taking your hand and giving it a firm shake. You both smile at each other and despite the crowded hallway you let him pull you into a tight hug. He squeezes you tightly, lifting you off the ground for a moment causing you to laugh. “Does this mean you’ll go to the Christmas party with me tonight?” he asks, smiling brightly down at you. You scoff, pushing him away to look squarely up at him. 
“Really Steve?” you ask, lifting a brow. You had told him ‘no’ weeks ago when he first invited you to the big party taking place at Bobby Mathers house. “Are you seriously using my apology as leverage to get me to go with you?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Steve laughs, holding his hands up.
“I would never do something like that.” he protests, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s just, everyone is going to be there.” he tells you, his smile no longer reaching his eyes. You know he’s been self conscious about going to parties like this since everything with Nancy and Jonathan happened. Especially when it became public knowledge in the small highschool. “Don’t make me go alone.” he begs, giving you his best puppy eyes. 
Damn those brown eyes.
“Maybe.” you say. Steve’s grins ear to ear pumping his fist in the air in victory. 
“Yes!” He cheers.
“I didn’t say ‘yes’, Steve!” you say, shaking your head, reluctantly smiling as he backs away from you still grinning brightly. 
“I’ll pick you up at 8!” He calls, pointing at you before turning to jog down the hall. It’s less crowded now and you look around for Billy. He’s gone. 
The rest of the day passes quickly, hardly anyone paying attention to the last class of the day. When the final bell rings you can hear the cheers erupt around you, everyone rushing from their seats to the parking lot. You take your time packing your bag, instead of heading to the library to meet Nancy you head back to Mr. Willson’s room. You can’t leave until you know, for better or worse. 
When you reach his room, the door is open and you can see him seated at his desk, working through another stack of tests. You knock gently on his door, causing him to look up. He doesn't look surprised to see you standing there, setting down his pen as he watches you enter the room.  
“I thought you would be back for this.” He says, picking up one of the exams set aside. You hear him sigh as he looks over the front of the test. “I can tell you put a lot of effort into this.” he says, rising from his chair. Your stomach twists at his words. He looks so serious. Fuck. You failed. You knew it. You failed and he feels bad for you. You hold your breath as he extends the test out to you. Taking it, you slowly turn it over.
Your heart stops.
“Keep up whatever you’ve been doing and you might actually pass my class.” he says, a small smile almost imperceptible on his face. You could scream. You can't believe what you’re seeing, but right there, next to your name, in green ink, is a big ‘B-’.
You fucking did it.
Your grin is so big it actually hurts your face. 
“Thank you!” you exclaim, beaming up at him. You have to find Billy. Turning to leave you practically run for the door. 
“Hey! I still need that!” Mr. Willson yells. You stop, quickly rushing back to hand him the test before hurrying out. 
You’re absolutely buzzing with excitement. You rush through the halls, heading towards the gym. You feel the need to tell someone, anyone, about the test but there is one person in particular you want to share the news with. Reaching the gym you skid to a halt outside the double doors. Looking through the glass you see the basketball team scattered across the court getting warmed up for practice. You spot Billy’s curly blonde mullet almost instantly. You go to push through the doors but stop, seeing Steve stretching on the side of the court. 
If you go in there now to talk to Billy, Steve will freak out and knowing the two of them it will likely end in a fight. Your eyes turn back to Billy, he bends a knee tying his sneakers. Seeming to feel your gaze, he glances up. He looks somewhat surprised to see you standing there, his brows pulling together in confusion a beat later. 
You glance at Steve to make sure he hasn’t seen you at the doors before quickly gesturing for Billy to come outside. He nods once, confirming that he understands. He stands, saying something to one of his teammates before jogging across the gym towards you. 
You duck out of view moving to stand next to the bathrooms where you and Billy normally meet in the mornings. A minute later Billy exits the gym doors, he glances around a moment before spotting you and heading over. 
“Hey, what’s up?” He asks, looking you over, clearly confused by your presence. You’re practically bouncing with excitement, struggling to contain your smile. 
“I went by Mr. Willsons to see my grade, and guess what?” You prompt, biting your lower lip, losing the fight to keep your grin hidden. Billy’s expression loosens, rolling his eyes.
“You finally caught him shedding his lizard skin?” Billy asks, a small smile ghosting over his lips. The excitement bubbles over and you laugh.
“I passed!” You exclaim, your smile overtaking your face, impossible to hold back. Billy’s smile grows as he watches you bounce on the balls of your feet, the energy inside you needing a way out. “I mean I got a B minus but still!” you elaborate.
“You say that like it’s a surprise, loca.” Billy says. “Not to be that guy but, I told you so.” He teases. You laugh again, shoving his shoulder lightly. He catches your hand as you pull back, holding it in his. 
“One B minus doesn't mean you’re off the hook you nutjob.” He says. “You still have to pass the class and that means passing every other quiz and test before the end of the school year.” He reminds you. You nod, only letting that dampen your mood slightly. “There were a few things on this exam we didn’t get to cover, so tonight we’ll-” Your smile falters, causing him to stop short. “What?” He asks. 
“I won’t be able to come over tonight.” you tell him. It’s subtle but you see his smile fade, though he hides his feelings well. “Steve is dragging me to this party and-” The sound of voices approaching the gym doors cuts you off. More specifically, the sound of Steve’s voice.
Without thinking you grip Billy’s hand and pull him into the bathroom to hide. You hear a group come through the gym doors a moment later. You look around for a place to hide hearing the conversation grow closer. 
“Where the fuck is he?” 
“I don't know, he said he would be right back.” 
“Check to see if he’s taking a piss.” 
“I’ll go check the bathroom, you guys look around.” 
You mentally curse yourself. Of course they were just coming to get Billy. Why did you drag him in here with you? You turn to tell Billy to go but he drags you forward, ushering you into a bathroom stall.
“Stand on the toilet seat.” He orders. You do as he says, stepping up onto the toilet, bracing your hands against the wall for support. Billy stands in front of you, his hands hovering near your waist in case you fall. 
He doesn't look at you though. He keeps his gaze narrowed at the ground, his lips pressed into a firm line. The tension in his shoulders is obvious and from where you are positioned above him, you see the muscle in his jaw flutter as he clenches his teeth together. 
He’s pissed.
Looking at this objectively, you see why. You’ve just made it clear that you don't want to be seen close to him. And it’s glaringly obvious that you are hiding your connection with Billy from Steve. Your face burns. He knows you're hiding him. You try to tell yourself it’s for the best but part of you still wants to apologize. 
The bathroom door swings open, banging against the wall.
“Hargrove, are you in here?” you recognize Steve’s voice. You see the muscle in Billy’s jaw tick again before he responds.
“Fuck off Harrington!” He bites back. You hear Steve scoff, his sneakers squeaking as he walks further into the bathroom. 
“Trust me, I wish I could. But coach has us running plays and apparently you need to be there.” Steve explains, the irritation in his tone clear. Your pulse quickens as Steve’s sneakers come into view under the stall door. 
“Fuck.” Billy curses under his breath, shaking his head. You couldn’t have said it better yourself. When Billy doesn't respond after a moment, Steve only grows more irritated. 
“I swear to god if you're taking a shit! Hurry up!” Steve yells, pounding his fist on the stall door. The sudden sound makes you jump, your foot slipping from where you’re perched on the toilet seat, sending you careening towards the floor. Your arms flail out, banging loudly against the stall, as you try to catch yourself. 
Billy rushes forward, wrapping his arms around you to stop you from crashing to the floor. Your sudden weight threatens to take him down as well forcing him to pivot, pinning your body against the stall wall with his to keep you both upright. Your head collides with the metal, a pained sound escaping you, cut off by Billy's palm over your mouth. You inhale deeply through your nose, the throbbing in your head matching up with the pounding of your heart. 
“Jesus christ, Do you have someone else in there?” Steve yells pounding on the door again. Billy’s eyes meet yours. You can barely breathe with how his body has you pressed into the wall. Your legs are loosely wrapped around his waist, keeping your feet off the floor. The hand that's not covering your mouth is wrapped around your waist helping hold you upright. Your hands automatically clutch Billy’s shoulders, and from this position you are eye level with him. 
His eyes search yours for a moment then you see something click. He leans in, whispering in your ear, low enough that Steve can’t hear.
“Moan. Loud. Make it sound real.” He orders. Your eyes widen at the implication of his plan. You shake your head against his hand, your mind racing to come up with a different plan. You’ve never even kissed a boy! You don’t know how to moan like that, there is no way you can believably imitate-
Billy moves his hand from your mouth, sliding it over to gently cup the side of your face. You shake your head again, mouthing ‘I can’t, I don’t know how.” Hoping he understands.
He grits his teeth again, his eyes falling to your neck, you see his gaze darken. Before you can protest, Billy lowers his head, pressing his mouth to your throat. 
You can’t help the gasp of surprise at the sudden sensation. His mouth is open as he kisses down your neck. Your grip tightens on his shoulders as his tongue presses over your thundering pulse.
This is so different from the small kisses you gave him last night. This feels so much more intense, his touch spreading fire over your skin making your breaths come in short gasps. It’s like he’s going to devour you, and you want him to. You tilt your head into the hand that holds the side of your face. You feel his fingers slide into your hair, pulling it slightly, earning another gasp
Your body feels like it's vibrating, heat pulsing through your veins. His body presses you harder into the wall, his arm tightening around your waist as if he could pull you closer than you already are. When his mouth moves lower Billy sinks his teeth gently into the sensitive flesh of your neck. It’s all too much. Then using his tongue and teeth he pulls a bit of skin into his mouth sucking on it hard enough that it stings but in a way that makes your brain go fuzzy. A moan erupts from deep within your chest, your hands flying to his hair, either to pull him away or keep him there, you’re not sure. 
“Jesus christ.” you hear Steve grumble. You had almost forgotten what a precarious situation you’re in. To be fair, you can barely form a coherent thought as Billy finally pulls his lips off of you. 
“You going to stick around and listen to the finale, Stevie boy?! I didn’t think you were into that!” Billy taunts, sounding slightly out of breath.
“Alright, whatever! Just… hurry up!” Steve says, finally taking a step away. You listen as he quickly exits the bathroom. 
When he’s gone, the only sounds in the room are yours and Billy’s ragged breathing. His eyes search your face, his expression filled with something you can't quite place, but it stirs something deep in your gut.
What just happened?
His gaze flickers to your parted lips, the hand in your hair sliding down to hold the side of your neck. His tumb glides over the portion of your neck he had bitten into, you can feel him smear the remnants of his saliva as he moves over the spot, sending a shiver down your spine. 
Then he blinks a few times, rapidly, like he's just waking up. He takes a step back, his hands moving to your waist to steady you as your feet lower back to the ground. You keep your hands on his shoulders, not trusting your legs to hold you up with how they currently feel like jello. The darkness in his eyes is gone, replaced by something eerily close to fear as he scans your face. You know that you must be blushing like crazy but that’s the least of your worries given the circumstances. 
“That's all I could think of. Sex tends to make people uncomfortable enough to leave you the fuck alone, so I thought-” Billy explains.
“No, no. It was a good idea.” You say, finally finding your voice again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fake it, I’ve just never-” You stop yourself from saying more. You feel his hands flex slightly where they hold your waist. 
“Are you okay?” He asks, his eyes still searching your face closely. You note how tense he seems, concern still clear in his eyes. You get the sickening sense that he’s getting ready for you to snap at him.
How could you possibly be upset? You did the same thing to him not 24 hours ago, and the only reason he had to do that was because you dragged him in here because you were worried about what Steve would think. If anyone should be upset, it’s him. All you can really think about is the way his mouth felt against you and his teeth-
“I’m… good.” You lie. Every instinct inside you is screaming at you to press him against the wall and find out what else his mouth can do. You shake your head, like that will clear the thoughts from filling your mind. You lower your hands from his shoulders, resting them on his forearms, his hands still on your waist. 
His eyes bore into yours, still searching, still waiting. After a moment he must see what he needs because he nods. 
“Alright, I’ll go out first and make sure your guard dog is gone, then wait 5 minutes to be sure the coast is clear before you come out.” He tells you. You only nod. 
Then, like he has to force himself, Billy pulls his hands away from you, yours falling away from him as well. He turns to the door, opening it slightly and peering out to make sure it’s empty before quickly ducking out of the stall. Leaving you alone with your racing thoughts. 
What just happened?
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AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this one! Let me know what you thought of it, it's kind of new for me to write intimacy like this so please let me know what you think! Leave a like or a comment and you'll hear form me soon!
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265 notes · View notes
merakiui · 3 months
Note
HOLY!!!!!!!!! Can i have Floyd with "what's up with not calling me back?"??? if you're still doing the fwb dialogues!!!
(fwb dialogues)
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For most of the week, Floyd's committed himself to following you around like a lost puppy. It was amusing the first day (and ominous to those who weren't aware of his involvement with you), but now it's Friday and you're beyond fed up. It was one thing to watch him seat himself beside you at lunch, thereby snatching Ace's usual spot, but it's another entirely to have him wait outside of Ramshackle to pick you up.
He's determined. You weren't expecting he'd last through the week. You're not particularly entertaining when you're so focused on your own priorities, but somehow that hasn't deterred him.
"Do you need something?" you ask, shutting and locking the door. Grim left before you, but now you almost wish he was here. The tension, though not as thick, is still troubling to navigate.
"Nah. Just wanna shadow ya today."
"You've done that all week."
"Shrimpy's been interesting all week."
You roll your eyes and stride ahead. He easily falls into step beside you, his hands stuffed in his pockets. It's quiet for all of two minutes before Floyd decides to break it.
"So what's up with not calling me back?"
"You'd know since you were following me all week." You peer up at him, arms folding sternly over your chest.
"That's just it. I don't."
"I was busy, Floyd."
"Busy," he parrots with a slight frown. "Mmkay."
"I need to study for a few upcoming exams."
"I getcha."
"So you can't distract me."
"I'd never."
"I'm serious. I need to get my grades up. I'm on the verge of falling behind."
"So I'll study with ya."
"Absolutely not."
Floyd pouts. "It ever occur to you that I wanna spend time with you outside of sex?"
"Not once."
"Well, I do."
"I highly doubt that." When he doesn't justify that with a retort, you add, "I haven't been ignoring you if that's what you think."
"I never said that."
"Okay... So why're you so hung up on me not calling you back?"
For a slim second, you think he looks conflicted. There's doubt in those normally bright two-toned eyes of his. But then it's gone, quick as a flash, and Floyd's back to wearing his sticky smile.
"'m not hung up. I was gonna ask ya somethin' real important."
"And you couldn't text it to me?"
"Nah. Calling's better." Floyd skips ahead towards the building. "You doin' anything for break?"
"Probably not."
He turns to look at you. "Cool."
You hurry to catch up, taking the stairs two at a time. "Why? Are you?"
"Yeah. I'm not gonna have my phone, so we won't be able to call."
"What? But... Oh, right. The sea." You wonder if you'll miss him during those two weeks. It'll definitely be quieter. "Have fun."
The both of you come to a halt in front of your classroom. He smiles at you. It looks sincere enough, almost hopeful.
"You could come with, y'know."
"To the sea?"
"Where else? Jade 'n I will show ya around. Take ya to our favorite spots."
"I'll think about it."
"Aren't you writing a paper on merfolk? You could study 'em up close if you came with. I'll even letcha check me out for your research."
You raise a curious brow. "Is that the 'real important' thing you wanted to ask me?"
"Maybe. I'll tell you if you come with. I'll get Azul to make you a potion. He'll do it."
"What's the catch?"
"No catch."
"Where would I stay?"
"My parents' place. They'll let you. Won't be a problem at all." He tilts his head at you. "Sooo, you comin' or not?"
"Um... I don't know. I'll think about it."
"Sure. Lemme know when you decide." Before he takes his leave, he adds, "I bet your paper'll be a real hit. Might even get you back to passing."
You scoff. "I can write it without your help."
"Of course you can. I never said you couldn't." And then he's slinking off to his classroom, his giggle still bouncing around inside your brain.
When you find your seat in class and dig your textbook out of your bag, a startling thought hits you: Wait. I'd stay with him at his parents' place?!
Just what are you getting yourself into? More importantly, why do you feel so inclined to agree?
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zanarkandskylines · 12 days
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sweet like honey ꒰ tangled hearts series - kiribaku x fem!reader ꒱ ⇢ you and kirishima organize a small dinner to celebrate bakugo's 31st birthday.
꒰ tags & content ꒱ fluffy & tooth-rotting fluff for kat's birthday ♡ cross posted to ao3 // wc; ~1.1k ✿ tangled hearts masterlist ✿
Trying to plan a surprise was literally impossible in the Kirishima-Bakugo household. The house was always in pristine condition, everything in it's proper place and able to be located without a second thought. If something was moved or used, there was a 95% chance Bakugo would notice, no matter what it was - his favorite spatula, a random mug, and even a specific set of towels in the bathroom. He had the house mapped in his mind down to the last non-existent dust bunny in the foyer.
By some miracle, Bakugo believed Kirishima was taking him out to dinner for his birthday and didn't invite you along. Sure, they needed their time alone together too, but most of the time, Bakugo was the one making sure you were included in their plans. It all worked out in your favor, though. Earlier in the week, you��d texted the both of them to trick Bakugo into thinking you wouldn’t see him Saturday.
the lion, the witch & the gym bro ❤️💖🧡 [you] hey babes! are you guys free saturday for dinner? [katsu 🐯🧡] what kinda fuckin’ group name is that?! i better be the lion [katsu 🐯🧡] and sorry baby, eiji's made plans for us [eiji 🥊❤️] i think it’s cute 😜 [eiji 🥊❤️] sorry love! we can meet up for breakfast on sunday though 💕 [you] that's okay! yes, kats, you're the lion lol. breakfast on sunday it is 💖
Kirishima was fully aware of your plan, ecstatic that you wanted to do something so sweet for Bakugo. He’d told you how all of his past surprise parties had failed for him - he couldn’t keep the excitement to himself and would fold before the party happened. You had to do a little work to be sure he wouldn’t spill the beans this time, too. Nothing a few sweet kisses couldn’t fix, promising to reward him for keeping quiet.
A quick trip to the grocery store and plenty of recipe research later, you had everything you needed to make the dinner. Kirishima mentioned that you’d have about half an hour to set up and get everything ready, so most of the cooking would need to be done in your apartment. It was simple, a mish-mash of his favorites; mapo tofu, cooked salmon with a honey garlic glaze and some grilled vegetables. You thought about using Bakugo’s home grown veggies, but that would have given away the surprise if he saw them go missing that morning.
Cooking went surprisingly easier than you thought it would. Creating the glaze for the salmon was honestly the hardest part, but you're proud of how it looks and smells, the fish cooked with a perfect sear. Your kitchen smells incredible and it's sad that the aroma won't be fully following you to their home.
Just when you're putting everything in the oven to keep warm, you get a text from Kirishima.
[eiji 🥊❤️] we’re leaving the house now! you’re clear to head over in five minutes [you] thanks eiji! i’ll pack up and head over.
When you arrive at their house, you park around the corner to be sure Bakugo doesn't see your car before he goes inside. Your unloading the food onto the kitchen counter when your phone buzzes three times, one from Kirishima and two from Bakugo, outside of your group chat.
[eiji 🥊❤️] headed home, kats is a little grumpy lol. see you in 15!
[katsu 🐯🧡] eiji fucked up our reservation and we're headed home [katsu 🐯🧡] if ya wanna come over. miss you sweets
'Oh, if only he knew,' you thought, smiling to yourself. You don't respond and place your phone back on the counter.
With the food in the oven to warm up, the table set, the lights off, and Bakugo's present on the counter, you were ready for them to walk through the door any moment now. Kirishima warned you that Bakugo was upset, but you're confident his mood will do a 180 once he sees the true plan.
The front door opens, accompanied by shoes hitting the floor and keys hitting the table in the entry way.
"Can't believe they messed up the reservation," you hear Bakugo complain, grumbling to himself. "Stupid ass fancy place can't keep their books straight."
"I know, I'm sorry baby," Kirishima apologizes, looking toward the kitchen to catch your eye. "But I think you'll prefer to be home, anyways."
Bakugo's about to question why when you walk out of the kitchen and into view, hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and wearing his favorite pretty black dress.
"Happy birthday, Katsuki! Hope you're hungry, we've got plenty waiting for you."
You're expecting him to burst out laughing, make a snarky comment, or roll his eyes with a smirk on his face, but none of that comes. He stands there, awestruck with a gleam in his carmine stare while his lips curl into a genuine smile.
"You two really did all this for me?" Bakugo asks, looking back and forth between you and Kirishima.
"Of course, Kat. You deserve to be spoiled! Come on, dinner is ready." You take his hand and lead him into the kitchen, pulling out his normal chair at the table. Kirishima follows, helping you prep three plates of food and delivering them to the table. After you place Bakugo's plate down in front of him, he grabs your face and tugs you back into his bubble to kiss you.
"Thank you," he whispers, nuzzling your nose before letting you go. He repeats then sentiment to Kirishima as well, giving him a peck on his forehead before he joins the table. "Both of you."
The three of you devour every bite of dinner - it turned out absolutely fantastic, ending with Bakugo asking you for the recipe you used for the salmon. That's the highest compliment coming from him, knowing that he's going to take the original and hit the ground running with a version of his own.
"One more thing for you, Kats!" you exclaim, grabbing the gift bag from the counter. Bakugo takes the present from you, rustling through the orange tissue paper. When he pulls out the brand new gardening tool kit, including some vegetable and flower seeds, his eyes sparkle with delight.
"I know you more than likely have a set already, but it never hurts to have a back up!"
Bakugo sets the bag on the counter and scoops you into a tight hug.
"Thank you, princess. I appreciate it."
Kirishima struts over, patting him on the back. "Maybe our little goddess here could help you plant the new seeds! Now that you have two sets, you could teach her how you tend to the garden."
"That's a great idea, Red. We can start soon with spring in full swing."
You couldn't be happier with how the day turned out. Seeing Bakugo's smile is all you ever wished for. He was glowing for the rest of the night, giddy over the idea of teaching you all about his gardening ways in the coming weeks.
Safe to say, it was a successful birthday.
⋆ ˚ʚɞ — recipe for the salmon cause it made my mouth water! i also wrote this in a frenzy so i hope it still is quality haha ✿ wildflowers; @maddietries @smolbeanzzz @camila2201 @lik0 @pixel4ffecti0n @moonlight-dreamer04 @lumi-cent @pastelbakugou @hannahk @camryn-ciel67 @c4prisuna @perfectsukii @screechingpeachdelusion ↶ | previous entry (twisted in bedsheets) ↷ | next entry (one-way ticket)
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natti-ice · 8 days
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Would You Have Me?- Sirius Black.
Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!reader
Summary: Y/N is the only person in Sirius’ life he truly cares about, he wouldn’t mind if it was only them
Warnings: modern high school au!, written in third person (she/her pronouns) (1.6k words)
Author's note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
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The final bell rang, it was Friday hundreds of students poured out of the school doors ready for the weekend. Y/N was among the swarm of kids, headed toward her bus. Thankful it was the weekend, this week had been a lot on her. Off in the distance, she could hear her name over the loud voices. Looking around shielding her eyes from the sun, she could see a tall boy headed her way. 
It was Sirius
"There you are," he said when he reached her, throwing his arm around her shoulder "Where are you off to?" he asked
"My bus" she pointed to the big yellow vehicle
"C'mon, I'll take you home" he offered
"Really?" she asked
"Yeah, you can tell me all about your day"
They walked to the student parking lot, Sirius drove a black '89 Dodge charger. It was a little squeaky, but he loves that car. 
He opens the passenger door for Y/N, closing it once she was in. Sirius Drove the long way to her house so they could talk longer.
"How was your day, dear?" he asks pulling out of the campus
"It was fine, I'm glad the week is over. Everything has been a lot lately" 
It was their junior year, everyone is starting to worry about their futures. Their career, college, exams, everything stressful. 
"I know what you mean, it feels like we have to know everything about the future before it happens" he replies
They continue their conversation all the way to Y/N's house. They've always been able to tell each other everything without feeling judged. Nowadays, it feels like you have to make sure everything is perfect because the whole world is watching, waiting for you to fall.
He was her safe place, and she was his. 
Sirius pulls up in front of her house, parking the car.
"Thanks for the ride, Sirius" she says opening the car door
"Of course, love. Hey, do you wanna hang out tomorrow?" he asks
"Yeah, sure I'll ask my parents. I'll text you" she answers
"Great, I'll see you soon then" He smiles
"Bye" she says closing the door.
He waits for her to go inside before driving off like he does every time. He sees her almost every day, but he still gets excited when they hang out. It's like a new experience every time, even when they've done it one hundred times before.
-
When he got home, he waited anxiously for her text. Her parents have never said no before, but it still made him a little nervous. He's made sure over the years that her parents liked him, he didn't want them to think he was just some guy who was only hanging out with their daughter to get in her pants.
He started his homework that probably won't get finished till Monday morning, checking his phone every few minutes.
Finally, after what felt like an hour, she texted him
parents said it's cool What did you have in mind?
 Movie? Wonka is still showing. Stay at my place after?
Timothee Chalamet? HELL YEAH! Definitely down for a sleepover
 Great! I'll pick u up at 4
See you then! <3
He was happy that she could come, he liked being able to get out of the house and escape with her. Everyone has family issues, his family was distant from each other. It was almost like they were roommates, not a family. His parents didn't care if he was gone or if he had someone over.
His brother stayed in his room most of the day when he got home from school. Their bond was limited to short interactions in the dining room on special occasions.
Y/N was his real family, she was always there for him whenever he needed her. At school, many people claimed to be his friend, they'd say hey in the hallway or talk about some game that happened the night before. None of them would actually have a real meaningful conversation with him.
He didn't get why he was so popular, he was sociable and easy on the eyes sure, but nobody knew the real him. It seemed like they had all made a false version of him in their heads. A mysterious ladies' man who could have anyone he wanted.
That wasn't true at all, he wasn't a mystery at all. He was very open once you got to know him, only Y/N had ever made the effort to do so. The whole 'ladies' man' thing was really funny to him. He'd never had a serious girlfriend, a few dates here and there but nothing real.
Many of those girls thought that him and Y/N had a thing going on so they would stop talking to him completely. At first he didn't know why they would think that, he thought their friendship seemed very platonic. Then he realized some of the things they would do seemed a little too friendly.
That didn't stop him. If he was honest, he didn't care about those girls at school. If there was only one girl in the world and he had to pick her. It would be Y/N. Always Y/N.
-
Saturday came around, Sirius waited all day for 4 o'clock. He didn't like to be late, he pulled up in front of her house a few minutes early so he could greet her parents.
Turning off his car, walking up to the front door. He rings the doorbell that has a little camera on it. A few seconds later, her mother opens the door
"Sirius, how are you, dear?" she asks bringing him in for a hug
'I'm great, Mrs. L/N. How's everything?"
"Everything's fine, Y/N should be ready by now." she told the boy "Y/N, Sirius is here!" she yelled up the stairs
She came down the stairs, a small bag in her hand. 
"Sorry, had to make sure I had everything, are you ready?" she asks Sirius
"Yeah, I'll see you later, Mrs. L/N" 
He and Y/N get in his car, driving to the local movie theater. 
That movie was almost 3 hours long, but that's okay. They didn't mind sitting in a dark room together in silence. It was much later, the sun was starting to set when they headed towards Sirius' house.
His parent's car wasn't in the driveway thankfully, awkward hellos are never fun. They realize they're starving and order take out.
Once it finally arrives, he takes her up to his room. Passing by Regulus' room, she could hear gunfire from some video game.
"Don't mind him, it's like he's married to the game. Hardly comes out the room" Sirius explains opening his bedroom door.
It was relatively clean, only because he knew she was coming over. His walls were lined with movie posters from the 80s and now, some of his favorite vinyls, and photo booth pictures of him and Y/N from various locations.
He made sure his space represented him. The real him. 
They spend the next couple of hours eating and watching random videos on youtube until they got bored of it. Putting on Evermore on as background music as they talked.
Both of them are sitting on the floor, Sirius leaning against the wall, Y/N against his bed
They jumped from topic to topic as the night progressed, getting into the more personal topics. A few weeks ago, Y/N started talking to a boy named Kevin. She seemed to have liked him until she stopped talking about him.
Sirius had been curious about that for a while, he thought it was a good time to ask
"Whatever happened to that Kevin guy? I thought you two were getting serious" he asks
"Oh him? That's long gone" she shrugged, "He said he just didn't feel anything for me" she explained, she didn't show it but she was a little hurt by the boy's words.
"Oh my god, he sucks. Anyone would be more than lucky to have you" He was mad that anyone would treat her like this. "Fuck that guy"
"It's alright, I didn't need him in my life" she wanted to get the topic off her "What about you? Anyone new in your life?"
"Nah" he smiles "I don't want anyone new, honestly"
"What do you mean?" she asks
"I'm happy just having you in my life, sometimes I wish it could always just be you and me" he says in a low voice
"That would be great, honestly. Just us against the world" she agrees
"Y/N?" his voice barely above a whisper, fidgeting with a ring on his hand
"Yeah?" 
He swallowed before replying, "I think I'm in love with you"
"What?" she laughed nervously, he got up and sat next to her
"When I think of my future, having a family and owning a house, you're there right next to me. I've tried to convince myself that it's only because there isn't anyone else in my life" He pauses searching her face for any sort of bad emotion "I know now, it's because I don't want anyone else in my life but you"
Y/N's brain was all over the place, trying to figure out what to say. Sirius has been her rock for so long, she had a small crush on him. She didn't think he would ever reciprocate it
"I don't know what to say" she admits
"That's alright, you don't have to say anything. If you're willing, maybe we could see if this goes anywhere?" 
She reaches down grabbing his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "I think we can make it work" she smiles "After all, we're still getting married at 30 right?" she laughed
"Right Right. A pact is a pact, dear" he smiles
She gives him a small kiss on the cheek, slowly pulling away. Their faces were dangerously close together, warm breath fanning against their skin. Y/N closes the distance. Their lips perfectly fitting each other, just like they were made for each other.
Sirius pulled away, not wanting things to get carried away. Y/N rest her head on his shoulder
"So, what color should our invitations be?"
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margarethx · 3 months
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There is a strange man standing at Sam's door.
Pale, with long hair and beginnings of a thin beard; his eyes covered by a baseball cap, but glinting in the shadows in a way that suggests he's sober, or at least alert.
He stands in an ostensibly relaxed pose.
He still looks like he's one abrupt sound away from bolting.
He knocked on the door instead of ringing the bell, as if he knew Sam was home and close enough to hear the noise muffled slightly by the glove covering his hand.
There's no one around at this hour and the entrance to Sam's house is obscured from the street by a few bushes and trashcans pulled out for the garbage men to collect in the morning. If someone broke inside, no one would be able to tell if they weren't already looking directly into Sam's small garden. Which, likely, no one does.
Sam also doesn't have any friends who visit him at home and both sides of his close family live a few states away. He tries his best to keep in touch with them, but if he disappeared from the radar for a couple of days, maybe even weeks, no one would be alarmed. So... if the stranger at his door harms him, it'll take a long time for anyone to notice. Maybe a couple of people at the VA will have some questions after the weekend, but his schedule is not regular enough for anyone to think something's off when he's not there the next Monday.
With all that in mind, Sam pushes away from the peephole he's been peering through for the last minute to unlock the door.
The man outside looks a bit lost. In need of assistance. And Sam's spent way too many years risking his life to save others to back down now, just because he's what... scared? Sam's not scared. He fought with literal helicopters and won such duel multiple times. A strange man with no fashion sense visiting his home is nothing compared to that.
The guy's probably homeless, simply trying his luck in a safer neighbourhood. It's better if Sam's the one to open his door instead of some weirdo down the street, who'll chase him away with a gun.
Sam is, technically speaking, a weirdo with a gun tucked into the waistline of his sweatpants, though he's not planning on using it. And if he'll have to, he won't be excited about that. Which is a key difference in his eyes.
Sam's a couple of years removed from the initial fear and PTSD fuelled paranoia that haunted him after leaving the Air Force. He did the work. Went through therapy. Read the books. Pushed himself to go out there; to mingle with people without succumbing to the need to crawl under the nearest table at the first louder noise.
He's not removed enough, however, to answer the door completely unarmed. Which is how he ends up here. With a gun concealed on his back, opening his home for a random man, whose intentions might range from simply asking Sam for something like directions to the nearby cemetery, to making sure Sam's the one who ends up there within the next week.
The hinges screech a little as he pushes the door, which is by design. Because of the lingering paranoia of course, not because he forgot to buy a new can of WD-40 for a fifth month in a row.
The man at his porch looks up, as if alarmed by the noise. He seems surprised that Sam answered, but he smiles pleasantly right away. If Sam was listening to his aforementioned paranoia, he'd say that the smile was too quick, almost too pleasant, and too calculated to seem genuine. But he really tries to get better and not assume the worst these days.
"Hello? How can I help you?", he asks, trying to match the energy and sound just kind enough for the ghost of his mother to not appear with her disapproving face in his next dream.
The man hesitates a little, giving Sam a second to take a proper look at him.
What's most striking about him is the bulky built. Broad shoulders and strong legs, paired with a - probably - flat stomach. It's difficult to see with all the layers of clothing the guy's wearing, but overall, he seems like a naturally muscular person hidden under an ill-fitting jacket and too-baggy jeans.
There's some underlying stiffness to his pose - something that Sam's already noticed at first glance, but which is all the more evident now that he can see the full silhouette of the man
If Sam had more time to assess his guest, he's probably dwell on the fact that his face looks disturbingly familiar. Or on the fact that said face, along with the rest of the body, is very much Sam's type. But he does not have that time, so he cuts this line of thinking as quickly as it forms in his brain.
"I've...," answers the man, finally. "I know it'll sound weird, but I..." He pauses once more, looking down at his palms, as if he's a student trying to cheat by reading the answers of the inside of his hand. "A guy I met recently goes to the VA. The one you work at," the man clarifies unnecessarily. "And I've heard that you've helped a couple of his friends before, so I thought that... well."
He stops talking, losing steam by the end. Speaking seems to be taking a toll on him and he stops even looking at Sam by the end of his vague explanation.
It's enough, however, to calm Sam's nerves. He unclenches his jaw and all the other muscles his body readied for a fight that never came and the immediate relief almost startles an embarrassing moan out of him. He didn't even realize how tense he was. He hopes that the guy didn't notice too.
"It's okay, man. I get it," he replies with a smile.
And he does get it. He's been there. He knows how it feels to finally take a step in the new direction. To try staying neutral or cynical because of misplaced self-preservation instincts, but feeling the hope already filling your chest anyway.
The man lifts his head and shoots a shy smile Sam's way.
"I hoped you would," he says. "My friend said a couple of his old buddies from the army been to your groups and it helped. So I... I wanted to check for myself.
Sam's smile becomes much more genuine.
"Glad to hear that," he replies honestly. It's always good to know that his efforts actually affect the people who struggle the same way that he did. He's curious which vets his guest is referring to, but he stops himself from asking. It's not relevant right now. "And you'd like to join one of my groups too?"
The answering nod is a little unsure, but Sam can work with that.
"I'll give you some pamphlets and the schedule for my next three meetings," he offers, trying to remember where he put the pile of fliers from the VA which littered his coffee table for a few months at one point.
Before he has the time to fully move from the doorstep he's stopped by a strong and sudden grip on his wrist. Very strong. Almost crushing.
The alarm bells in his head blare, his vision narrowing, while his other hand makes a move to his back where a gun is still hidden in his sweatpants.
But then the pressure is gone from Sam's arm and the man is looking right at him, confused, then mortified. Whether he's scared of his own reaction or the gun he must sense in the vicinity, Sam cannot tell.
"I'm so, so sorry! I don't know why I did that, just... Let me..."
He stops. Sam blinks at him.
There're good ten seconds of uncomfortable silence before any of them speaks again.
"It's fine," Sam says, carefully. He wets his lips and the man's eyes track the movement. "Like I said... I get it." He tries to laugh, but it comes out a little strangled. "I don't like sudden movements too."
The guy at the door almost shrinks, his shoulders going up, as if he's trying to cover his face even more. But he seems relieved. Like it's easy to just have someone who understands, when the explanation seems too embarrassing to voice.
"Yeah..."
Sam takes a deep breath, hoping to push through the awkward moment and put the man at ease.
"Like I said, I'll go to take a pamphlet and write down my schedule for you," he says, taking a slow step inside. "I'll be back in a minute." Without waiting for a response he nods as if to silently ask the guy to stay where he is. Then looks for a pen and the fliers almost on autopilot, hoping that his porch won't be empty when he's back.
Or maybe hoping it already is.
When he steps through the door again, the man is still there. Just as shifty as before. As Sam hands him the papers, he opens his mouth, starting another apology, but Sam shushes him right away.
"It's alright. Don't worry about it." He adds a smile for reassurance. "My schedule is right here. If you can't come this month, you can always go in anyway. Ask around and find my office. We'll figure something out."
With a silent "thanks" the man starts to slowly back away from his doorstep. It seems as if he wants to stay, though. To ask for something more, but doesn't know what to say or maybe how to say it. Finally, with a small wave, he exits Sam's lawn. And then he's gone.
It takes Sam another five minutes of contemplative staring at the street to remember that his home address is not public information and neither of his former vets should know where he lives. None of them would know where to look for him outside of the VA.
Before he has the time to have a panic attack about that he finally registers the pain in his arm. He frowns and pulls up his sleeve where a set of dark, angry looking bruises form a shape of a closed palm on his skin.
He locks the door as calmly as possible, using an extra lock he hasn't taken out of the drawer since last year. He pulls the curtains over the windows, grabs his phone, and spends the rest of the day sitting on the floor with a gun between his legs, within reach.
--- ----- --- ----- --- ----- --- ----- ---
Well... I don't even know what this story is xD I just sat down and wrote the first thing that came to my mind. Now I somehow ended up with a plot outline for at least 4-5 chapters. Maybe I'll even write them one day <3
Hope you enjoyed witnessing the birth of my WiP number 2309745.
[PART 2 on tumblr is here]
[Ao3 LINK is here]
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