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grittyreadsfic · 3 years

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hello my friends, one singular person asked for this weeks ago so i’m here with my most unhinged rec list yet: tk and nolan.

now, this one was hard to reign in, so i really didn’t. this pairing had maybe 230 fics in the tag when i first started reading hockey fic, and it’s now over 900, and i’ve read far too many of them, and that makes it so hard to parse it down. so i just...didn't!

so with that said, please enjoy so you want to get into tknp: a beginners guide to a classic case of idiots to lovers

i told myself that i couldn’t rec an author’s entire body of work but then i remembered this is my blog and i do what i want, so i did some consolidating. here’s a list of the quintessential authors for this pairing, you can start at any of their profiles and pick any of their fics at random, and it’ll be one of the best ones for the pairing, hands down.

therainbowsedge: i’d start with the summer camp fic, or the sex toys one, as both beautifully capture the true idiots to lovers nature of this pairing, but just top tier writing all around

manybumblebees: the wedding fic is so tender and port stanley is a classic, but literally pick any single fic and you’ll have a perfect tknp fic. i’m not kidding

jamesvanriemsdick: their tknp fics in their series are some of the hidden gems of this pairing (the tk heartbeat fic makes me LOSE it) but the delaware fic or the seattle fic…..there’s really something for every mood

catchascatchcan: start with era of gods because i could write literal essays on how it’s some of the best fantasy worldbuilding i’ve ever read, but then just read everything else on their account, including non tknp fics. you won’t regret it

hackysack: ao3 user hackysack has written one of two timeloop fics that i absolutely adore, and i thought about just calling that one out in particular, but all of their work deserves the attention

canary: nothing to prove was the first tknp fic i ever read and i was immediately hooked. all of their fics are a good starting place for the pairing, and just really give you a feeling for the pairing

and now, for the fic recs!

to be, despite it all by smudgedfreckles

summary: or, nolan patrick’s gender thesis, by travis konecny.

why i love it: there’s not a lot ofo nonbinary characters in media, even in fic, but this fic’s treatment of nolan and their path to figuring out their gender just feels so real and made me feel so seen. tk’s characterization is also just top notch, and it’s just a super sweet story about two people who love each other

last ones standing by makeit_takeit

summary: If you’re committed to finding your future spouse, reads the last line of the ad, and are ready to look at yourself and your love life in a whole new way, apply now.

At the bottom of the ad there’s a link, and Travis finds his finger hovering over the screen, lip still caught between his teeth.

“I mean,” he says very reasonably, speaking out loud to his empty apartment like some sort of possibly-crazy person, “just applying doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I just fill it out, and see what happens. It’s not like I’m really gonna get picked to be on TV, come on.”

He snorts out loud, just to show his apartment he hasn’t lost his grip on reality or anything; he fully understands how ludicrous that would be.

Then he clicks the link anyway, because yolo or whatever.

why i love it: what part of a married at first sight fic doesn’t make you want to immediately dive right in? the concept is fun, the execution is absolutely flawless, and it captures their dynamic so well while letting it develop naturally

motivation by connectknee

summary: Kevin knows when to back off, the article said. He knows just when to shut up and leave Patty alone, something Travis has never known how to do.

why i love it: the thing i love about this pairing is that tk is loud and in your face, and nolan’s more reserved, a little quieter, a little harder to read. this fic does a really great job of exploring how tk could feel like maybe he’s just a bit too much and is one of my favorites in terms of miscommunication

a tenderness grows by rusesdeguerre

summary: Nolan wouldn’t say that landing a job as the Philadelphia Flyers’ psychotic and probably clinically insane mascot was a childhood dream of his. Maybe tangentially: playing pond hockey in –30°C weather and pretending to be Sidney Crosby is practically a rite of passage when you grow up in Manitoba. That, and experiencing the distinct displeasure that is thousands of mosquitoes sucking your blood out when your father drags you on a father-son camping trip into the backwoods of the northern Canadian Prairies.

why i love it: this was the first fic i recced on this blog, and i stand by that decision. a fic where nolan is not only not a hockey player, but is in fact the person in the gritty suit? absolutely perfect, and so charming from start to finish

meet me at my window by springsteen

summary: Travis has lived in Philadelphia for a few years now, long enough to know there isn’t a major city in America where superheroes don’t destroy an entire city block trying to save humanity or whatever. He can deal with all the super-shit, but Travis did not sign up for getting woken up from a deep sleep because some fucker’s trying to break in through his window.

(5 times the super-villain known as "The Cat" breaks into Travis's apartment, plus 1 time Travis invites him in.)

why i love it: there’s a lot of things to love here, but the concept is just absolutely one of my all time favorite aus ever. it’s fun and charming and the perfect glimpse into a world where heroes and villains exist, and what it’s like just to be a run of the mill kind of guy existing in it. tk and nolan’s back and forth in this make it so engaging, and it’s such a top tier fic

body’s in trouble by cloudsandpassingevents

summary: “Oh, sorry,” someone says. “Didn’t know anyone else was here.”

Nolan freezes, then turns around very slowly. When he looks up, Nicklas fucking Backstrom is standing behind him in a hoodie and baggy sweats, holding the biggest bag of Swedish Fish Nolan’s ever seen in his life in one hand.

“Uh,” Nolan says around the pop tart between his teeth. “Yeah.”

What the fuck, his brain helpfully supplies.

why i love it: from nolan’s inner voice, to the way the author explores all the dynamics within the team, to the way they write the unexpected but actually, it kind of makes sense friendship between nolan and backstrom, is just absolutely fantastic. there’s a lot of moments that circle back and build on each other in a way that really just makes it super compelling

rhizomatic foundations by lighthousetowers

summary: Twenty days after he moves in with Kevin Hayes, twenty days – three months, five months, depending on how you look at it – after not talking to TK, TK shows up at the front door with a plant the size of a basketball in his hands.

TK grins. "Patty, meet Reginald." He lifts up the plant. "Reggie, meet Patty. He's going to be your new - caretaker."

"What the fuck," says Nolan, not moving a single muscle.

Or: That Nolan can hear the plant talk might as well just happen.

why i love it: this is probably my favorite magical realism fic just about ever. it’s fun and charming and a little weird, but in the best possible way. there’s such a wonderful narrative in it, and lighthousetowers always has such beautiful writing, and it really shines in this one. the dialogue and nolan’s characterization are also part of what set it apart for me as one of the best tknp fics

in the dark of any town by mengetpegged

summary: If the voice has an accent at all, it’s a flat prairie Canadian, with none of G’s French-Canadian softness at the edges. But mostly, the accent is just ‘pissed off,’ which TK believes is a default setting for ghosts.

“Who are you?” TK asks, and he doesn’t like how strained his voice sounds, doesn’t like the tinge of anxiety tinting the rise of his question. He tries to regulate his breaths—in through his nose, hold, out through his mouth—but it feels like he’s not getting enough oxygen, which makes him panic even more.

“Someone with a fucking migraine, dickhead,” the voice says. “So keep the lights off and shut the hell up.”

(or: Nolan Patrick, Hotel X Ghost)

why i love it: i’m usually not super into ghost fics, both the spooky kind and the nonspooky kind, but this one is a rare exception. it’s charming and fun and tender and it’s got some of, in my opinion, the best characterization of tk and nolan in any fic. the way the author writes their dynamic and their dialogue is just unmatched

lets_make_this_moment_a_crime.mp3 by honeydripping

summary: Travis meets Nolan at a Midtown show in 2002 when he punches Nolan in the face. He can’t help it, “Like A Movie” just goes off.

But he does feel guilty about it.

TK and Patty work at a bakery together. They go to punk shows to pass the time.

why i love it: idk if anyone asked for an early 2000s emo/punk/alt au but wow! i sure am glad it exists! really the vibes of this fic, as silly as that sounds, are absolutely unmatched. i love the structure with the music, the development of their relationship, and just everything about how the author wrote the setting (there’s this whole thing with tattoos in it that makes me feel absolutely insane)

you’re ripped at every edge by you’re a masterpiece by conformityissuicide

summary: “Ugh, look, this yoga teacher has it out for me, man. And I can’t go back there without at least having some of the basics down. I’ve got to win this battle.”

“Yoga isn’t really something you win at,” Hartsy starts.

Travis cuts him off, “You can win at anything if you try hard enough.”

+++

OR that time Nolan's a grumpy yoga teacher and Travis realizes he wants to bone him and prove him wrong about Travis' non-existent yoga abilities.

why i love it: listen, if you want tknp, at least one of them has to be an idiot, and this tk absolutely captures the obliviousness i love to see in him in fic. it’s such a great characterization of them both and such a great concept (and even better execution)

you form a terror pack (and i’m aware of that) by dalmatienne

summary: “Can I help you?” TK snarks, both eyebrows hiked up in a way that has earned her many elbow checks to the ribs.

The chick looks down her nose, long thick eyelashes fluttering. Red-bitten lips part to blow a florid pink bubble and TK can smell the chemical sweetness when it pops.

“Yeah,” she says in this monotonous voice that seems almost at odds with her bubble gum and neon skates. She jams her stopper into TK’s thigh again, literally inches away from where it’d really hurt. “Tie ‘em.”

why i love it: to be honest, i generally don’t read rule 63 within hrpf, but this one is just absolutely knocks it out of the park. the concept (i fuckin’ love roller derby), the characterization of nolan, the pacing, the rituals, the tone of the entire fic, it’s just all around a perfect read from start to finish

thrills and grills by bitter_leaf

summary: Travis can’t even begin to wonder what he did in a previous life to incur the wrath of this fucking cook. Travis thinks he’s a nice person, doesn’t conduct himself in any way that could be considered particularly dickish, and unless this guy has some sort of issue with hockey bros or people from the boonies, he’s not sure how he started shit without even knowing.

Patty has a vendetta. Travis just wants to eat his eggs in peace.

why i love it: honestly this is the enemies to lovers fic i’ve been waiting for. i remember seeing the reddit post when it first went viral and thinking it would make such a great fic premise, so stumbling across this one was just so wonderful. super engaging and fun and so hilarious to read!

nothing but room for you by fightingfuries

summary: When his agent tells him he’s going to be traded to the Devils, Nolan isn't sure how he feels about it. Might be easier if he was going somewhere farther away, like California or fucking Florida. Somewhere sun-soaked and foreign. Someplace so different from Philadelphia that he can forget he ever played for the Flyers, forget everything that happened there.

Or Nolan fucks up, gets traded, gets his shit together and falls in love. Not necessarily in that order.

why i love it: i cannot stress to you how much i love trade fics, and this one is one of my absolute favorites. the trade to the devils-so close to philly, still, but there’s more to distance than physical miles-was such an excellent choice and the split timeline adds so much to the narrative, and the emotions are real and messy and complicated in the best way

a couple of runaways (i’m glad you stayed) by overturnedgoal

summary: The person in the video he’s watching is super annoying. Some obnoxious holier than thou granola type who keeps talking about their environmental impact as if they aren’t driving a gas guzzler around, but the basic idea of living in a van, driving around wherever, camping all the time, just going hiking and swimming and seeing the whole country? It sounds pretty dope, honestly.

why i love it: i like to watch tours and conversions of vans/buses into tiny homes as a self soothing method, and this fic has the same impact that watching those do. it’s such a fun concept, and it’s so fuckin’ soft, and the dialouge between tk and nolan is just *chef’s kiss*

all candor and style in the crook of your smile by p3trichor

summary: It’s a photo of Nolan on his knees with someones’ fingers in his mouth, lips slick with spit. Travis flicks by it almost too fast and he’s only got seconds to decide if he wants to screenshot it, if he wants to just give up the ghost right then and there. Except Travis’s phone freezes momentarily and then the group refreshes, sidcros87, Bert59 and 14 others took a screenshot!

It’s gone before Travis even has time to process it and he already wasted his replay of the day on a stupid video of a stupid fish that Hayes caught.

Can you send me that screenshot Travis texts Bertuzzi before he can overthink it, his dick already stirring in his sweats. Tuzzi sends back the cry-laughing emoji and then the screenshot before Travis can be too annoyed at him.

Or, Nolan is being weird about Travis's break-up and TK is maybe not straight.

why i love it: i genuinely don’t think i have words for the amount i love this fic. it took me forever to actually read, but it’s absolutely one of my favorite fics, and it’s an absolutely riot to read. carter’s meddling and the presence of tyler bertuzzi both make it extra fun, in my humble opinion

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chxrrysangel · 3 years

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I Need a Favor

Part One | Masterlist | Part Three

Summary || A talk with Wanda and Vision at the ice cream parlor gives you a grand idea. Now only to convince your partner to go along with it.

pairing || fakeboyfriend!bucky x black!ofc

word count || 1,730 words

Notes || Diana uses she/they pronouns

Warnings || brief mention of disordered eating, language

"I ruined everything Wanda. She's never gonna talk to me again, " I say while salty tear drops from my cheek into the soft serve below me.

I don't think I've cried this much since Nat and I got into the same university. At least that was a happy memory. Wanda wraps her arms around my body, trying her best to console me.

"Vision! Another cup of Cotton Candy over here!"

Vision, Wanda's boyfriend, pops up from behind the counter, blond hair sticking up in all directions. That's what happens when he's in distress, that man never stops touching his hair.

"But Wanda--". He attempts to argue with her. But when he sees the glare her features are sporting, the words quickly die in his throat.

"Alright."

Not a minute later, Vision wanders over to our table carrying a medium sized bowl on Cotton Candy ice cream, my favorite. The shop is closed now, the last customers leaving about 10 minutes ago. I probably shouldn't be eating my feelings considering I haven't always had the best relationship with food, but I'll cry about that later. Right now, I just need to wallow in the guilt of the mess I've made.

"So, what's the problem exactly Diana? Why are you so distraught right now?" I sigh and will the tears to subside enough for me to give the breakdown. Seeing me struggle to keep my composure, Wanda steps in and I thank the universe for her.

"They kissed Steve at a party a few weeks ago and now he thinks she has a crush on him. Whether she does or doesn't isn't important because he cornered her in the library earlier and now she has to figure out what to do ASAP. They don't want Nat to find out about Steve's "revelation". "

"Shit, Di. So there's nothing you can do? You have no dirt on 'im? Threaten him to keep the secret? Maybe call in a favor or something?"

Favor. Call in a favor.

"Oh my god, Vision you're a genius! I could literally kiss you right now! I mean, obviously I wouldn't. But, you get what I mean." I scramble to gather my things and throw a ten dollar bill on the tabletop.

"I'll see you guys later! I have to go do something!" I don't wait for their response before I'm hurdling out the door and running towards Jones Apartments.

~~~

I kind of forgot the distance between Jones Apartments and Wanda's Creamery. That is why by the time I reach them, I feel like someone could peel me off the sidewalk. I don't think I've ever been this out of breath in my entire life. Jesus Christ, how is Nat on the track team? I remind myself to ask her about her running routine while I sit on the curb, trying my best not to burst a lung.

"Diana?" My head perks up at the sound of my name, surprised to see the exact person I was looking for.

"James!"

"Diana, I told you not to call me that." I get up from the curb so we're more or less eye level. I don't exactly like being talked down to.

"Anyways James, I need to talk to you."

"No." James sidesteps around me, heading towards the swivel door entrance."

"And why not?" I chase after him, hoping that by following him, he'll get annoyed and let me speak so I can go home. It is a Friday after all, I'm sure he has something to do. Probably partying at the frat house. Let's be real here.

"Because, I don't want to." He doesn't wait for my response before he's walking down the corridor to the elevator. I don't know why he thinks he'll be able to escape me, it's not like I don't know his apartment number or anything.

"James--", he looks at me with an irritated expression,"Okay, okay. Bucky. I have a proposition for you.”

"And what about that exactly?"

"That's for a space with privacy. You never know who's listening." He sighs and rolls his eyes before motioning for me to follow. Gotcha. Hook, line, and sinker.

~~~~

"Absolutely fucking not."

"What do you mean?! I've barely said a thing!"

"It's Steve Rogers, that's enough for me to say no."

"C'mon Buck! Please! I will literally get on my hands and knees, and beg for you to say yes." He smirks at my words and I proceed to punch him in the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You know exactly what that was for. Anyways, I really, really need your help."

"I already said no. Now get out." I'm starting to get annoyed with him. He's so stubborn.

"James, will you cool it with the bad boy, angry man act! I know you, you fucking moron. You can't fool me with that one. " He stares at me from his seat on the kitchen counter.

"It's not an act."

"Right, because it's not like just 6 months ago you were laying in bed with me at my apartment crying to A Walk to Remember. You're a total baby."

His jaw ticks at my reminder. Ha, gotcha. During the spring of Sophomore year, I tutored James for a semester because he was in trouble of losing his spot on the baseball team. And as they're most valuable and skilled player, coach couldn't let that happen. He'd also lose his scholarship. At first he hated me, but over time we developed a pretty decent friendship. He's actually a really cool guy, and a total softie at that.

"Shut up."

"Ah, so you do remember us being friends at one point. Well, at least before you stopped returning my calls and unfollowed me on Instagram and Twitter."

"Sorry 'bout that." He smiles sheepishly, seemingly apologetic.

"You should be. Anyways, weren't you and Steve friends freshman year? I'd only know him for like a year and a half, but I distinctly remember that you two used to hang out."

"Yeah, we did. But that's in the past." He hops off the counter, opening the fridge to grab a beer. I watch him as he pops the top with his metal arm, the depth of its capabilities continuing to amaze me.

"Why, what happened? Did you guys fall out over a girl or something?," I ask with a laugh. He stays silent.

"Oh my god. You guys did break up over a girl. So, who's the lucky lady?" Again, he doesn't respond.

"Do I know her?" Ok, now I'm intrigued. Maybe a little bit nosy as well, but more intrigued. Inquisitive, if you will.

Again, my words are met with silence.

"Oo, so I do know her. Is it Nat?" He pause for just a millisecond, the same way I did at the party.

"Di, will you just drop it?"

"Oh my god!--" I jump out of my chair, squealing with excitement. "--So, it is Nat!" Wait, shit. It's Nat. Oh, this is bad.

"You think?" Did I say that out loud?

"Yes, you did. Now will you get out of my apartment please?"

"Nope, we have much to discuss"

~~~

"So, what exactly do I get out of this besides a headache?"

"Ouch, James. I'm not that bad. So basically, I keep your secret that you ever liked Nat. You get to rub it in Steve's that your crush is a thing of the past. I get him off my back, and finally I figure out how to get you a date with Daisy when we fake break up."

"Ok, I can deal with this. We're gonna need a contract though."

"Oo, look at you using your brain. I guess my tutoring paid off." He pushes me, nearly sending me off the chair to my death.

"Hey, watch it cyborg! What good is a fake girlfriend if you kill them?" Bucky simply rolls his eyes, before pulling out a pen and paper from a side drawer.

"Okay, rule number one : don't tell a single soul. Not one. Got it?"

"Yes, dad," I respond whilst rolling my eyes. He stares at me for a second longer than necessary and I look at him questioningly.

"What?"

"Nothing. Rule two?"

"Um...we have to act decently couple-y. So that means kissing, you walk me to my classes, I go to your games, stuff like that."

"Okay, good point. Rule three, you have to indulge in some of the things I like. Especially my motorcycle."

"Uh uh. No fucking way am I willingly getting on that death trap."

He laughs at me. He fucking laughs at me. "y/n, it's not that bad I promise. I won't let you die."

"You don't know that."

"I promise, I won't let you die. " He smiles wide at me, enough for his dimples to poke out. He knows how much I love dimples. Well played, Barnes. Well played.

"Okay, put it as a conditional clause. While we're on that note, you have to indulge in my interests too. You have to let me braid your hair once in a while." His face drops in horror.

"Uh uh. Don't even try it Barnes. If I'm willing to put my life in your hands, I'm sure you'll survive some french braids and cornrows." He looks at me for a second before sighing in defeat, realizing I'm not gonna budge any time soon.

"Okay fine, anything else?"

"When are we gonna break up? Or, like what's our condition if it keeps going? We've gotta be believable here." The two of us sit in silence for a few moments, thinking of a time that would suit the earth-shattering demise of our passionate love story.

"Got it! You know that holiday banquet/fundraiser thing the dean throws just after New Years'? You know the one where everyone dresses up like it's the goddamn Met Gala? Well, that banquet has the most hookups of any public event this school has all year. You'd be an absolute moron to let your partner go without you. If we're still doing this by then, you have to go with me."

The banquet is four months from now, so there's absolutely no way in hell we'll still be doing this by that time. With that thought in mind, we shake hands and sign our names at the bottom.

"You've got yourself a deal Barnes."

#fakeboyfriend!bucky #fake relationship #steve rogers #romanogers #natasha romanov #bucky barnes x black!ofc #bucky barnes x original female character #black!oc #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader

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bubblesuga · 3 years

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off the table.

Summary: Fate has an odd way of playing with your mind. When you leave Min Yoongi on his door step nearly a decade ago, you became positive that you would never find love again. Settling for a man you thought you could learn to love, you had given up on fully moving on. But again, fate likes to play.

W/C: 11,680

Genre: Idol!AU, smut, fluff

Warnings: cussing, smut, mentions of exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, Jimin is curious about Yoongi’s (non-existent) sex life,

A/N: Based loosely off of Off The Table by Ariana Grande if you want a song to listen to as you read :) x

“So, this is it then?”

“Yeah.”

The near migraine-inducing memory always happens to flash in your mind at the worst times possible. Eight years ago, you found yourself standing at the front door of your ex boyfriend’s dorm with a solemn heart as he softly explained what his life was going to turn into. It was a short conversation, one the both of you had seen coming but neither of you wanted to admit it.

As his new friends and new life began to form behind him in the small one bedroom apartment, you nodded, and you left with one last kiss to his rosy lips. His deep brown eyes bore into yours with just as much sadness that you felt before you dragged yourself away helplessly.

Of course, now that you were 3 months into a new relationship, the memory decides to pop it’s way back into your brain as if it had just happened. A soft whisper in your mind gently coaxed you away from your latest fling and disassociated you from the moment entirely. He’s a nice guy, as well. Good head on his shoulders, smart with money, and loves to cook for you. So the sense of guilt you felt was tremendous because despite having this gorgeous man in front of you, your mind always flew back to him.

It has become more and more difficult not to think of him considering the fact that his face is now everywhere. The news, the internet, your fucking cold brew... He was there, the same bright features and adorable nose. You wondered if he thought of you from time to time, how you’re doing or what you could be up to since you graduated university. With as hectic of a schedule that you’re sure he held, you highly doubted that you have been on his mind since the end. Knowing him, he threw himself into his work and hasn’t looked back. It shows in his music, though. You always knew that he would be successful.

“...are you even listening to me?”

The words dragged you out of your trance and you immediately set down your coffee, “What? Of course I am.”

Junwoo couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “What was I talking about then?”

Fuck.

You push your hair back, a habit you developed recently as your desire to try and forget about your ex boyfriend has grown stronger, “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

Maybe it hasn’t just been lately. Maybe every single time you feel Junwoo’s lips against yours, you can’t help but compare him to Yoongi. He didn’t need to know that, though.

“Yeah, you use that a lot as your excuse. I’ll try not to bore you with tales from my clients anymore.” Junwoo slides the plate in front of you, a heart shaped kimchi pancake lay flat in the middle of it, and you feel your guilt grow stronger.

“No! I love hearing about them, I- I think I need to see someone about what’s going on in my head.” You explain. You had yet to mention to anyone that you dated Suga of BTS before he was known as such. In fact, you’re pretty sure if you even hinted at it, you’d become the laughing stock of Seoul. It made it impossibly difficult to talk about your feelings with Junwoo. He always tries to pry, but you shut him down completely.

“What’s going on? Is it serious?” concern laces his features and he sits carefully beside you at the table.

“No, I just need someone to talk to.” you try to shake the feeling of discontent when his arm wraps around your shoulder.

He leans his head on yours- “you can always talk to me.” -you shutter.

“A professional, just to help me get back on my game. Regain control of...” you let out a soft sigh and feel Junwoo’s lips brush against your temple, “...myself.”

“_____, I am a literal therapist.”

“A literal therapist who is emotionally involved with me. Isn’t it inappropriate to make out with your patients?” You quirk, raising an eyebrow.

He rolls his eyes again, “Okay. Let me know if you need recommendations. Us in the brain community are pretty tight-knit.” He stands up and runs a hand through your hair before trotting back to the kitchen to begin his own breakfast.

You nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare down at your pancake, picking up the butter knife beside your plate and dragging it down the center with a grimace on your face.

~*~*~

Even though you spent many years studying medicine, you didn’t think it would involve this much typing. Staring at patient charts has become a normal during your regular work day, especially since you’re boss decided that he didn’t need to look at the charts, he just wanted to hear from you.

You’re a nurse, not a secretary.

Today you were assigned to the emergency room, which was one of your favorite places to be. Everything was much faster than if you happened to be in post-op or general medicine, but the moment you enter the doors, you were piled with paperwork that you were sure a medical assistant could be doing.

The drowning sounds of chatter and machine’s melodic beeping blended with your fingers as they typed name after name, number after number for an hour straight. Just as you thought your soul had completely drained from your body, you hear a tap on the desk.

“H- hi, uh- my friend’s foot got cut open and we think he needs stitches. Is there any way that we could get seen quickly?” You glance up and your eyes immediately go wide.

You remember meeting Namjoon a few times in passing when you were still seeing Yoongi, but he’s much taller than you remember. Instantly you feel your face go red, and you were frozen in place. Why the hell was Namjoon here? How did he manage to choose this hospital of all the ones in Seoul?

You happen to tear your eyes away from him for a second, glancing over and seeing Jungkook being held up by Jimin as his foot stays elevated in the air. The minute you see a t-shirt wrapped tightly around Jungkook’s foot, you move to action.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that! Let me get you a wheelchair,” you swing around the desk and grab one of the folded up wheelchairs and roll it towards Jungkook. He grimaces as he sits down, his foot crossed onto the opposite knee. Jimin seems relieved not to have his friend leaning on him anymore, and you pause for a second to assess the situation.

“Jenni! Do we have an open bed anywhere?” You grab your co worker who walks passed you with her hands filled with bandages.

“Back corner, we just cleaned it.” She calls back, walking without glancing at the people you’re trying to help.

You nod, immediately walking Jungkook towards the back and gesturing for Namjoon and Jimin to follow. You grab an empty chart as you walk, before opening the curtain for the bed and allowing the three men to slide into the area.

“I hate to be pushy but this really hurts.” Jungkook hisses as wrap your arm beneath his and slowly lift him towards the bed. Immediately, you slip gloves onto your hands and begin to unwrap the t-shirt. There’s quite a bit of blood, but not enough to have you worried that he hit an artery.

Namjoon bites his lip before speaking, “I should have watched the stage better. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook shrugs, wincing while he attempts to pull himself up higher, “It was hard to see. Not your fault, or anyone else’s.”

“Except for the person who broke the stage.” Namjoon quips, rubbing his hands over his face, frustrated.

“It’s fine, hyung. The pretty nurse is going to fix Kookie right up.” Jimin is quick to comfort both of his friends while simultaneously causing you to blush.

It’s then that you notice the three of them in clothes similar to their rehearsal getup from all those years ago. Sweat lines each of their foreheads and you wonder just how this whole thing happened.

After inspecting the wound, you whip towards the suture kit, “It is deep enough to require stitches. I’m going to call the doctor down and have her suture you up. Until then would you like me to numb the pain?” Even though you’re well aware who these men are, and how close you potentially are to your ex boyfriend, you can’t help but let your professional prowess overpower your incessant need to think of Yoongi.

Jungkook nods, “At this point I’ll take a shot of whiskey and something to knock me out.”

You smile, “Unfortunately there isn’t any whiskey here. Believe me, I’ve been searching since I got here.”

Namjoon chuckles from beside you as you put your finger up to let them know you’ll be right back. Pulling open the curtain, you meander over to the nurse’s station and pick up the phone to call the ER doctor down. As you wait for him, you grab all the supplies to clean Jungkook’s foot, including a Lidocaine injection. Before you get the chance to turn back around, you hear the ER doors burst open and see four sweaty men tearing their way into the hospital.

Four sweaty men, including Min Yoongi.

An uncharacteristic whimper leaves your lips as you spot the rest of the members, all rushing passed you when they see Namjoon stick his head out of the curtains.

You feel all the blood drain from your face when the familiarity of Yoongi’s presence passes by you. Jenni notices your panic from the other side of the nurse’s station and lets out a little giggle, “Come on, you can’t get all shy just because they’re BTS. You have a job to do.”

“I can’t go in there now, Jenni. You have to take over.” You turn back to her with wild eyes, desperately trying to hand her all the supplies you gathered. Your eyes continuously glance backwards, watching them pile in. Yoongi can’t see you, you won’t be able to look the man in the eyes. You can’t even begin to think about the embarrassment you will feel if Yoongi sees you.

Jenni only laughs, “You’re a professional. Dr. Gwan will be down soon so you only have to be with them for a few moments.”

In a last ditch effort, you call out to her as she walks towards another patient.

Okay. You’re panicking now.

The universe has to be playing some sort of sick game on you right about now. You have not been able to get that stupid man off your mind lately and now here he was in your emergency room. First he’s worried about his brother but now he’s going to see you and want to chat and catch up. Knowing him, he’ll ask you for coffee and you’ll probably learn of his girlfriend or possible wife. He’ll wonder why you’re not married yet, and you’ll have to hide the fact that you haven’t been able to properly move on because of him.

That’s only to say if he even remembers you.

Taking a deep breath, you swallow your anxiety and enter the curtain.

“Alright, Jungkook. Do you have any allergies that I should know about before I inject you with my magic numbing liquid?” It’s much more cramped in the room than it was before. The 6 members crowd to one side of the bed while you stand on the other. You refuse to look up for fear that Yoongi is going to recognize you.

“No allergies.” Jungkook shakes his head.

“Good, good,” you lean forward, elevating Jungkook’s foot and removing the make shift bandage, “you’re gonna feel a slight pinch.”

“He’s not going to lose his foot or anything, right?” A voice asks. You recognize it as Taehyung’s.

“No,” you’re sure they can sense how rigid you are, “he’s not going to be able to dance for a little bit, but he’ll be back and better than ever in no time.” No one responds, and you finally make eye contact with Jungkook, “Are you ready?”

Again, he nods, and you slowly push the needle into his foot. He cringes enough to jerk his upper body slightly, but Jimin is at his side just as quickly as it started.

You dispose of the needle immediately afterwards, wrapping his foot up to keep pressure applied to the wound, “Okay, Dr. Gwan will be here soon. She’ll get you sutured up and I’ll be back later to check on you.”

“Thank you, miss. It already feels better.” He sighs happily, relaxing backwards onto the pillow.

You grin, momentarily forgetting that your ex boyfriend is 3 feet away, “Of course, Jungkook. That’s my job.”

It’s then that you catch Yoongi’s eye for the first time that night. It’s not to say he didn’t recognize you before, but he wasn’t able to say anything once he saw you working. He was deathly still, the rest of the day leaving his mind when your shiny eyes met his. He sees you swallow, and you walk out without saying anything else.

“That was _____.” Yoongi murmurs after a moment, staring at the swaying curtains where you once exited.

The chatter stops instantly, and everyone turns to Yoongi.

“The _____?” Hoseok questions, his eyes wide while he also turns to watch the curtains.

Yoongi nods, his throat going dry as memories of you sleeping beside him at night when he had nothing to his name wash over him. You, with the exception of his brother, were the only person supporting him when he said he wanted a career in music. You applied to universities in Seoul so you could be closer to his dream, you were always so excited to hear his new music and you always told him that he was going to make it big.

It’s not like Yoongi hadn’t thought of you since you broke up. He was a complete mess for months afterwards. His schedule solely consisted of working and rehearsing because he couldn’t bare to have a moment to himself.

Yoongi repeatedly beat himself up for the way he ended things and more specifically, the reason he ended things. After getting into BigHit, Yoongi realized he was seeing less and less of you. You were so busy with med school and he was so busy with rehearsals that you were lucky to see each other once a week. He knew you’d be better off finding someone who could be there for you, and that it was best for him to focus on his career.

He just wasn’t aware of how much that would kill him inside.

“Well what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to go talk to her?” Seokjin pushes. There are times when Yoongi has to remind himself that he isn’t the oldest in the group, and that usually comes when Seokjin takes his role as older brother very seriously.

Yoongi scoffs at the taller man, “What do you want me to say? ‘Hey I know it’s been 8 years but lets meet up for coffee and pretend like we didn’t break each other’s hearts’?” he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, “Besides, Jungkook needs us here while he gets his foot stabbed.”

“Oh no, hyung,” Jungkook laughs, “I’m doing juuuust fine. You go talk to the pretty nurse.”

Yoongi swallows, “What should I say?”

Namjoon shrugs, “Whatever comes to mind.”

Yoongi’s feet carry him out of the curtained off area, his eyes searching across the emergency room in an attempt to find you. He spots you at the desk by the front door, and with a nervous head tilt, he’s dragging himself towards you.

The moment you left Jungkook, you threw yourself back into paperwork and became so immersed that you didn’t hear anything going on around you. Except for the soft footsteps pattering up to your station, which causes you to tear your eyes away from the chicken scratch handwriting on the chart in front of you.

It’s silent for a beat, you can feel the heat rising to your ears as you look up at him. His hair is longer, different from the short style he’d gel up every morning before the break up. There’s more piercings on his ears, but at the core of the new flashy clothes and dyed hair, he’s still the same man who professed his love for you at 17 years old.

“Hi.” he whispers.

“...hi.” you respond, your hands still frozen over the keyboard as Yoongi fiddles with his fingers on top of the desk.

“Thank you for helping-” Yoongi is cut off by another Nurse calling you over from a different bed in the emergency room.

You give him a quick glance, “I’m sorry, duty calls.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken when you stand. He had a better look at the pink scrubs donned on your body, and the smile on his face was nearly uncontrollable when he realizes that you made it exactly where you wanted to be. Your dreams of helping people has now become a reality.

You’re truly in your element, and Yoongi can tell. The concern on your face as you help a little girl sat in the center of a bed way too big for her was a sure fire way to know that you were in the right place.

So, Yoongi doesn’t push a conversation. Instead, he walks back to his band mates and watches in awe as Dr. Gwan stitches up Jungkook’s foot.

~*~*~

“He walked away.”

“He walked away?!”

“He. Walked. Away.” You emphasize to Jenni, holding your hands to your face while you let out a groan.

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” she sets down her iced americano, the chatter of the hospital cafeteria drowned out by your conversation, “you dated Suga from BTS before he was famous, and he broke up with you because you were both leading different lives?”

You nod.

She continues, “and you see him in person for the first time in 8 years, and you don’t talk to him?!”

“Wait why are you yelling at me?!”

“Because, dummy,” she leans over the table and flicks your forehead, “he’s been on your mind a lot lately and suddenly he’s at your job! It’s not a coincidence.”

It’s only been about a week since you saw Yoongi, and of course your attempts to get him out of your mind has been fruitless.

“What am I meant to do? Drop everything and run to him?” You ask incredulously, angrily digging your spoon in your yogurt.

Jenni waves her hand haphazardly, “No, no. You catch up with him, see how he’s doing now that he’s a world famous rapper- oh my god, _____ you let go of him?! You didn’t fight for him?!”

“You said you weren’t going to judge me!”

“That was before I learned exactly what you did! Dumb girl,” Jenni shakes her head disapprovingly, “and you’ve settled for Mr. Brainiac instead.”

Jenni isn’t the biggest fan of Junwoo.

“Mr. Brainiac is nice and sweet and knows how to treat me right,” You explain quietly, the fruit in your yogurt seemingly tasteless on your tongue, “but...”

“But he’s not Yoongi?” Jenni tilts her head.

“I don’t think anyone can ever compare to Yoongi. I’m sure it’s unrequited at this point.” As much as you hate to admit it, that’s the part that broke your heart the most about seeing Yoongi. The fact that you couldn’t bare to look at him for more than a second, because it just wasn’t the same as before. It will never been the same as before.

Jenni shrugs, “you won’t know until you find out.”

“And I’m supposed to... what? Show up at his house?”

Jenni’s eyes seem to trail behind you, and a grin on her face, “When is Jungkook supposed to get his sutures removed?”

Confused, you raise an eyebrow and turn around in your chair to see none other than the man of the hour, Min Yoongi. Instead of being dressed in rehearsal clothes like the other day, Yoongi wears all black with a silver bag wrapped around his torso.

You whip back around and glare at Jenni, “I swear to god if you call him-”

“Suga!” Jenni calls out before you can finish your sentence. Your head falls into your hands with another frustrated moan. Jenni waves her hand to him, Yoongi watching warily before he spots that you’re sat right across from her.

He hesitates for a moment, noticing the way you drag knees to your chest which is a nervous tick you have had since before Yoongi had met you. However, he realizes that if he ever wants to talk to you, now would be the best time. Having followed Jungkook to the hospital for the sole purpose of possibly bumping into you, he had to make due with any interaction he could get.

Jenni gets up and leaves as Yoongi walks his way over to you. Your head is now buried in your knees, but you hear the chair screech across from you.

“Hi again.”

You lift your head up, “Hi, Suga. How is life?”

You can see hurt flash through Yoongi’s face at your use of his stage name, but he shakes it off, “Life is going pretty well. How about yours?”

“It’s going well.”

You still haven’t made direct eye contact with him. Despite having not seen you in person in so many years, his heart ached in his chest at the thought that you may still be hurt. Who is he kidding, though? He’s still hurt by the decision himself.

With a sigh, he scoots his chair forward, “Are we going to pretend that there isn’t a history behind us?”

You laugh bitterly, “Haven’t you been doing a pretty good job of that for the passed eight years?”

Yoongi’s jaw drops. You don’t remember Yoongi ever showing his emotions so freely on his face. That was one of the good things from the interviews you have seen, those 6 boys have opened up Yoongi more and more to his emotions. You feel bad for your response, but you’re unsure how to apologize.

“I didn’t want to end things just much as you didn’t,” He bites, ignoring the tinge in his heart, “I want to catch up. It’s nice seeing you again.”

“I have a boyfriend.” You say, your yogurt seeming much more interesting than it was moments before.

He clears his throat, “That’s okay.”

“Because I had to move on.”

“That’s okay.” He repeats, his fingertips drumming along the table top. He hasn’t been chewing his nails lately. That’s good for him. Though, the nervous habit has developed into something different, the drumming of his finger tips echoing more and more in your head as the awkward silence mulls on. Even in a loud cafeteria, your mind only focused on him.

With out thinking much of it, you reach your hand forward and place it on top of his to get the drumming to stop. Yoongi looks up at you while you hold your hand atop of his. For a moment, the silence continues as you stare into his deep brown eyes. You’re transported back to your late teens, where you felt as though you were on top of the world with Min Yoongi by your side. He stared at you as if you were his entire universe, spending night after night cuddled up together, talking about your dreams and aspirations while simultaneously chasing them together.

Well, it used to be together, but instead you had to push yourself through your dreams alone.

Yoongi’s the first to break the silence, letting a dry chuckle fall effortlessly from his lips while he stares down at your touching hands, “You used to do the same thing if you saw me biting my nails.”

Even though you want to be mad, you wand to walk away and never speak to him again, you can’t. Instead, you nibble on your lip in an attempt to stifle your giggle. Yoongi notices and realizes he’s making good headway into conversation.

“You told me to help you stop, the only thing that seemed to get you to stop was-”

“Your touch?” Yoongi suggests, a teasing gummy grin on his face.

“Yeah,” you finally let out a laugh, “my touch distracted you from a lot of things.”

The people in the cafeteria didn’t seem to be bothered by the two of you in the center of the room. Busy doctors and nurses trying to get their lunch in, loved ones of patients desperately waiting to hear if their surgeries went well, all is forgotten as you fall into the same pit you found yourself in many years ago. Bottomless, but bright. Visions of the future dancing along you as you fall deeper and deeper. Although now, it seems to be visions of what could have been.

“Of course it did, how could I focus when I had your pretty face in front of me?” Yoongi’s tone is still teasing, but melancholy wades through his words.

You slip your hand away hesitantly, and Yoongi’s wrist twitches at the sudden loss of contact. “That’s the reason it ended, isn’t it?”

This is a conversation that Yoongi is not ready for, but at this point he’ll take anything he can get with you, “What do you mean?”

“You broke up with me because you knew I’d distract you from your dream.”

He brings the hand you once held upward, scorching skin touching the back of his neck nervously as he takes a deep breath, “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t play a part.”

You inhale and drop your legs from the edge of your chair before leaning forward. After years of questioning whether or not you would ever move on, you finally have the chance to get some closure. “What was the final straw?”

He bites his lip, “I was able to fall asleep without you.”

You didn’t think you’d be able to feel your heart sink as deep as it has. Even after all these years, your emotions are bubbling to the surface. How can something so simple break your heart so badly?

“You were in school during the day and I was training at night,” he continues, “we never saw each other and I struggled for so long to fall asleep without you next to me. Then... one day my head hit the pillow and I fell asleep immediately.”

Another knife to your chest.

“Did you struggle at all? After the break up, I mean.” You try to search for some sense of regret in his eyes but he’s always been very good at putting up a wall and having people fight for a way in.

He laughs bitterly, “Of course I struggled. Are you kidding me? I thought I was going to marry you, have kids with you. I was nearly inconsolable once it really set in that you weren’t going to be with me anymore.”

You swallow anxiously, “But it was really for the best, yeah? You’ve got your career and I’ve got mine. We’re both successful. Given, you’re entirely more successful than I am but I’m happy with where I’m at.”

“Don’t say that,” Yoongi breaths, “you worked your ass off to get to where you are, you’re just as successful as I am.”

“You think we wouldn’t have got to where we are if we stayed together.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Yoongi seems to ponder on his answer.

“I think we were young and didn’t know much about life. It was a shitty time for both of us, but I did and still do think that in some aspect of the word, you are my soulmate.”

Your breath hitches at the word.

Beyond already having thought this yourself, the realization that Yoongi thinks it as well causes your chest to flush with heat. The adoration you felt years ago when Yoongi’s hair was always styled neatly in a mohawk and you had no clue how to use eyeliner still rests itself neatly at the bottom of your heart. Hearing Yoongi even say the word ‘soulmate’ nearly reduced you to a puddle of tears.

Yoongi notices that you haven’t let out a breath, “Fuck,” he’s panicking, running his hand anxiously through his hair, “fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to freak you out, I- I-” He cuts himself off and allows his head to fall into his hands.

A moment passes, and he seems to gather himself once he hears you exhale, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you last. I dreamed about what I wanted to say to you and insisted on being the one to drive Jungkook to the hospital today with just the hope and slightest chance that I might run into you.”

“What’s your plan here, then?”

“I want to be friends.” He proposes.

You scoff, “Do you have time for friends now?”

He sighs, expecting the reply but still feeling his chest tighten, “Let’s hang out on a day where the two of us have nothing going on. When are you off next?”

“I have a boyfriend.” You reiterate, raising an eyebrow.

“Not a date,” he dismisses you, “just as friends. When are you off next?”

Crossing your arms, you eye him suspiciously as he widens his eyes in an attempt to push you towards an answer.

“Saturday.”

“Great,” he breathes, “I’ll make sure I’m free that day too.”

~*~*~

Maybe you are taking a bit too much time getting ready for a man who has already seen you at your worst. Maybe you purposely wore purple lipstick in an attempt to show that you have been paying attention to his career and maybe, just maybe, you are way too happy to be hanging out with Min Yoongi once again.

That doesn’t take away from your nervousness, though. Your hand shakes as you finish applying your mascara. You don’t live in a nice mansion like Yoongi does, and you’re terrified that someone will spot him picking you up from your apartment and all hell will break loose. You’ve read some of the tabloids involving anyone close to the group, so your anxiety is nearly palpable.

“Get a grip,” you whisper to yourself, “you’ve seen this man naked before. There’s no need to be nervous.”

As you finish your make up, you move on to your hair but stop once you hear a knock on your door.

Yoongi isn’t supposed to be here for another half hour.

“Fuck.” you whisper, standing quickly from your vanity mirror and rushing towards the front door in a panic. You peep through the lens in the door, confusion striking you when you spot Junwoo.

The lock turns loudly and you slide open the door, “Hi?”

His eyes raise from the ground until he meets yours, “You’re awfully dressed up just to be hanging at home.”

“I have plans.” You state, slipping your undone hair behind your ear. You couldn’t help but notice the instant meekness you felt take over your body the moment you saw Junwoo.

“With me?” He questions, stepping into your apartment. His black hair is pushed back with way too much gel to be comfortable, the honey brown eyes that usually comforted you suddenly made you feel uneasy.

You shake your head in response, “An old friend. He and I are-”

“He?” Junwoo cuts you off, much louder than he was moments before. You take a step back at the sudden change of tone, your jaw nearly dropping at his audacity.

“Yes, he. Is that a problem?” It was probably in your best interest not to challenge Junwoo. If there is anything you learned in your short time together it’s that he was very good at manipulating your words. He claims it’s his way of reading deeper into the situation but you think your intentions are pretty surface-level.

Junwoo didn’t seem to expect your attitude, backing down immediately with a nervous scratch to the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know how I feel about you hanging out with another guy.”

A scoff leaves your mouth as you scan Junwoo’s posture change, “Are you one of those people who assumes men and women can’t be platonic friends?”

“Yes.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

You roll your eyes, “I can assure you that he’s just a friend.”

A friend who you have a long, egregious history with. A friend who’s lips have touched every inch of your body, has seen you break down over text books and has kissed away your tears when you were beginning to reach adulthood.

But yeah, a friend nonetheless.

“Are you still going to hang out with him if I tell you I’m uncomfortable with it?” Junwoo presses, puffing out his chest.

“I don’t feel like you have the right to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with,” you furrow your brows, “why are you even here?”

“I wanted to take you to the park, but that’s not important. Were you going to tell me that you were going out with a guy?” Man, Junwoo’s ability to annoy the fuck out of you has seemingly grown beyond a point of retribution in the short 10 minutes he’s been in front of you.

As you open your mouth to respond, another knock sounds on the door. You let out a small groan, reaching towards the doorknob and turning it swiftly. On the other side is Yoongi, a striped black and white button down unbuttoned on his torso with a white t-shirt underneath. He’s certainly gotten a better fashion sense.

“Hi, Yoongi. I’m almost ready,” you send a glare in Junwoo’s direction, “I have to finish my hair and I’ll be ready.”

Junwoo is staring wide-eyed at Yoongi with his jaw dropped. Yoongi looks back at him and subtly crinkles his nose, just enough for you to spot it.

After a moment, you break the silence, “Yoongi, this is Junwoo. Junwoo,” you gesture to Yoongi, “Suga of BTS.”

Yoongi lets out a laugh, “Stop introducing me like that to people.”

“That is your name, isn’t it?” You tease, spinning the black hat on his head backwards. “Anyway, are you heading out, Junwoo?”

“You didn’t tell me that it was Suga you were hanging out with.” Junwoo speaks accusingly, making you realize that you truly didn’t make any progress throughout your entire conversation.

“He’s an old friend,” you explain, “I’ll call you later.”

Junwoo opens his mouth but closes it again. You know it’s more than likely because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of someone so influential. Junwoo cared too much about his image to do anything to disrupt it. One bad word from Yoongi and he was done for.

Silently, he steps out of your apartment but doesn’t hesitate on slamming the door shut.

Yoongi glances at you and points to the door, “Him?”

“I never claimed to make good decisions.” You sigh, causing Yoongi to giggle. “Anyway, let me finish my hair. Help yourself to anything here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You hesitate for a moment before deciding that you didn’t have anything in particular that Yoongi could accidentally get his hands on that would be embarrassing.

As you walk out of the room, Yoongi runs his fingers along the picture frames on your wall. He remembers these pictures previously sitting on your desk in your parents’ house. Now they were lined perfectly across the off-white painted wall in your living room, images of your family and close friends filling the black painted frames.

He smiles at the picture of your mother, you’re an exact replica of her. One of the first things he struggled with beyond not seeing you anymore was the fact that he wouldn’t see your family. Despite your relationship being short lived in the beginning, he had grown very close to your family in the process. After the break up, your mother called Yoongi repeatedly asking if he needed food and clothes. He knows that you gained your big heart from her, and he wishes that he can speak with her again.

Moving on, he spots the familiar picture of you leaning against a bookshelf with Le Fleurs Du Mal by Charles Baudelaire gripped loosely in your hands. He remembers that picture from the end of high school, you insisted on stopping by the local Daegu city library one last time before you both moved to Seoul. Yoongi snapped the picture as an opportunity to remember your hometown, because he was sure the two of you would never be back there again. You would stay together and conquer the world, but unfortunately that never happened.

Yoongi can’t help but run his fingers along the side of your face, your smile hiding behind the book. Yoongi’s reflection can be seen in the window behind you, his grin just as wide as yours.

You were in love, and Yoongi misses that.

Of course now it’s not like he can do anything about that. You have a boyfriend who is clearly very loving and trusting in you.

Yoongi wasn’t necessarily sure what his plan was when he was searching for you in the hospital, nor was he sure what his plan is now that he has you within arms reach of him. Namjoon was sure to tell him how stupid he was for even attempting to get involved with you again even though you have a boyfriend but Yoongi didn’t care. So long as you were in his life somehow, he was willing to make it work. Friends, maybe more. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted whatever he could get.

He did...okay for a few years without you. He dated on and off but never really developed a connection with anyone the way he had you. He couldn’t help but compare everyone who came into his life to you no matter how hard he tried not to. It’s laughable at best, because deep down in his mind he’s well aware that nobody will ever compare to you.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Yoongi tears his eyes away from the picture and instantaneously rakes his eyes up and down your body, “Whoa.”

Dressed in a simple leggings and plaid button down combination, it accentuates your curves and causes Yoongi’s mouth to water.

You let out an embarrassed giggle, “I, uh- I wasn’t sure what we were doing to I tried to dress casually.”

Yoongi doesn’t stop his eyes from staring at your hips, “It works. Everything about you, works.”

“Careful now.” You warn jokingly, putting a hand out in an attempt to pause his thoughts.

Yoongi shakes his head, “Okay, I have a reservation ready for us.”

You lead him out your door and to the car park, “You better not be taking me to some expensive restaurant because I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, opening the passenger side door for you, “but if you still love chicken then I may have found the greatest restaurant in existence.”

Slipping into his car, you wait to respond until he moves over to the drivers side and turns the car on. “You remember that I love chicken?”

He smiles, gummy and bright just like before, “I remember everything about you.”

You ignore the flutter in your heart at his words, and sit silently beside him while the radio plays softly from his speakers. The car is far nicer than the one he used to have, and the seats have a warmer that Yoongi seemed to know the perfect temperature of. As he continues to drive on, you try not to watch the way his left hand grips the steering wheel and his right sits idly on his thigh.

8 years ago, that hand would have been resting on your thigh, fingertips brushing the inner part of your softest flesh while you leaned your head back listened to the melodic tunes of whatever song he made most recently. A few of those tunes have been turned into BTS songs, and you still felt beyond proud of him.

“Okay, we have to go around the back and through the kitchen. I just don’t want to risk-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you cut him off, waving your hand dismissively, “you’re hot shot famous guy now. Don’t want to risk getting seen with a lady.”

Yoongi chuckles, “I may be some hot shot famous guy but I’m still the same person I was a decade ago.”

You watch as he turns the car off, “Prove it.”

“What?” He laughs in disbelief.

“Prove that you’re the same person you were all those years ago.” You push, tongue in cheek while you smirk at the man beside you. He seems to ponder for a moment, puckering his lips in thought before he exits the car and runs over to your side of the car.

“Come on,” he gestures for you to get up, “hurry up.”

“Hold your horses, Mister.” you adjust the bag around your torso as you stand and let your eyes fall back to Yoongi. His back is to you and his knees are bent. Hands reach backwards for you and he turns to look at you expectantly.

Tilting your head, you smile as you hop onto Yoongi’s back. A move he’d do regularly when you’d spend hours on your feet interning at various hospitals around the city. His large hands gripped the back of your thighs and you let out a squeal as he hikes you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist.

It takes a moment for him to steady his walk as he leads you carefully up to the back door. You lean upward and knock on the back door labeled “staff only” and wait patiently as you feel Yoongi adjust you again.

“You used to carry me around like this all the time.” You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. It didn’t feel weird hugging him like this. Natural instincts kicked in and the whiff of his cologne had you reeling. It’s exactly the same as he wore before, and his hair smelled of coconut conditioner. Before you would turn his head and kiss his lips every time you caught his scent, and it’s taking everything in you right now not to do exactly that.

“I did,” you can hear the smile in Yoongi’s voice, “and you never reciprocated.”

“I’ll give you a piggy back on the way out, how about that?” You pat the top of his head as the door opens to reveal a very confused looking employee.

A sheepish smile is held on Yoongi’s face while the employee realizes who he is. “Mr. Min,” he bows his head, “lovely to have you again. We have your usual table set up in the back.”

“Awesome,” Yoongi drawls sweetly, “lead the way!”

Heat fills your face as the kitchen staff of the unnamed restaurant watch curiously while Yoongi walks you to the table.

He doesn’t allow you to get off, instead he turns around and drops you onto the booth seat as you try to silence the squeal that leaves your mouth. Yoongi only laughs as he flips back around to see the top half of your body slip between the table and the seat. He’s quick to help you up but his arms grow weak from laughing so he takes a few moments to pull you back up. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, the ridiculousness of the situation bringing back memories.

“I’m sorry,” he says, inhaling another laugh as he slips into the seat opposite of you, “I didn’t think you would fall.”

You adjust the hat on your head, “It’s fine, I didn’t need my equilibrium to work properly anyway.”

Yoongi can’t help but watch you carefully as you open the menu. Your nose still crinkled when you came across a dish you may not particularly like, and your eyes widened whenever you saw something that you thought looked good.

Both of you decided on a beer to drink and various flavors of dry rub wings to enjoy. As you waited on your food to be cooked, you sip your beer and suck your teeth while you decide whether or not you want to ask him all your dying questions.

Deciding to start small, you took a deep breath as Yoongi met your eyes, “How much did they have to fight you to get you to start dancing?”

He let out a sigh of relief, half expecting the awkwardness of your history together to take over, “I almost quit like four times, I won’t lie.”

You giggle, “I figured. You do well, though. I was amazed by your Seesaw performance when you started dancing on your own up there. Genuinely was the last thing I expected.

Yoongi doesn’t respond, he only smiles widely with his head rested gently on his hand. You tilt your head as his eyes scan yours, “What?” You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wanting the world to swallow you up at the thought that you could have come across as weird or creepy by knowing so much about Yoongi’s career.

“You watch my performances?” He questions, his smile not dropping. A hint of pink brushes the tip of his nose.

“Of course,” you say almost incredulously, “you’re everywhere. It’s hard not to.”

“What’s your favorite song?” Yoongi presses, leaning forward to show you’ve piqued his interest.

Okay, there’s no way you’re going to let him think he has some sort of head over you.

“Cypher part 3.” you say confidently.

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” you hum, nibbling on the bottom of your lip for a moment before deciding to say why it was your favorite, “specifically the part where you say you’re a starfish feeding off the envy of others.”

“Ah, yes. Truly a fan favorite. You should hear the cheers when I explain what my tongue can do.” Yoongi whispers the latter half of his sentence, causing your throat to go dry. His tongue is skillful in many ways, not just rapping, and you were well aware of that. Decadence rested on the tip of his tongue, and you’d like to think that you contributed to his *ahem* practice.

He pulls away with a cheeky grin just as the waiter comes by with steaming plates of food.

The affect that his words had on you still amazes you to this day. Maybe he does have a head above you, and maybe you’re okay with that.

The rest of the dinner goes by with a breeze, the two of you laughing over drinks and trying each other’s food. It didn’t take long for you to fall into a comfortable fit with Yoongi, even though so much time had passed. It was like he never left, and he truly is still the same person he was before. He laughs the same, his shoulders shakes and his grin is always huge. Although his hair style changes and his fashion sense has gotten better, you still see the old Yoongi poking out whenever he laughed particularly hard.

Being face to face with him has allowed you to compare to the younger him, though. His face has slimmed and his voice has gotten deeper, the adam’s apple you kiss at night was larger than before and his neck was longer. Despite all that, he was still the same. Fame hadn’t changed him a bit.

The moment the check comes you snatch it up quickly.

“_____.” the way Yoongi says your name shoots a chill down your spine, but you ignore it when you slip your cash into the designated sleeve.

“Yoongi.” You mock, handing the sleeve back to the waitress who seems scared of Yoongi’s deep tone.

“I was supposed to pay.” He pouts, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Be faster then.” You grin, standing up and crouching in front of Yoongi’s side.

He laughs, remembering your promise from earlier and slipping onto your back. The path you to through the kitchen is a bit less crowded now, but you felt the same amount of eyes on you the entire time. You felt much less embarrassed about it now, though, because Yoongi had a way of calming you down even at your worst points.

“The night is still young,” Yoongi speaks as he slips off of your back and unlocks his car, “would you like to revisit Yongsan Park?”

“Always.”

It wasn’t a far drive from the restaurant, and it was spent mostly talking about music and the new album that Yoongi was extremely proud of. Of course you had already listened to it but you didn’t want to take away from his excitement of showing you some of the songs.

When you made it to the park, the lights lining the jogging path were already on. You hadn’t expected it to be so dark yet but fall time always had a habit of sneaking up on you.

There was an intense rush of nostalgia associated with this park for the both of you. Nights where the two of you huddled close under the stars were spent here, right beneath the biggest tree in the park. It was unspoken that that was your spot, and you hadn’t been to it since you broke up.

Yet, muscle memory kicks in and both of your legs carry you right to the tree.

“Isn’t it funny how we spent so many nights here?” You bring up as you sit at the base of the tree.

Yoongi nods, “So many nights in this exact spot.”

“I love it here, it was our spot.”

Yoongi’s proximity to you is much closer than it should be but neither of you are making any move to change it. His shoulder brushes against yours and you resist the urge to rest your head on his shoulder.

“It still is.” He corrects, tapping your knee gently with his hand and resting in there.

You freeze for a moment, not knowing how to process his touch anymore but you can’t push him away. In fact, you’re relishing in the heat burning on your skin beneath his hand. It’s one of the best feelings in the world.

“Do you remember when you tried to scare me by climbing a tree and the branch broke?” Yoongi looks up, and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh at the memory.

“Yeah but that was because I was trying to get you back for pouring ice water on me when I fell asleep on my text book.” You roll your eyes at the memory, distinctly remembering the chill on your back while Yoongi cackled in your small one bedroom apartment.

That same cackle leaves Yoongi’s lips from beside you. You snap your head towards him, “Oh you think it’s funny still?”

“Yeah,” his laugh turns into a giggle, “you can still see the broken branch.”

“What?” You glance up, and sure enough the branch is still gone. Your jaw drops and you use your hands to push Yoongi over. He doesn’t fight you on it and falls with ease even though you didn’t use very much pressure at all, and you’re quick to try and wrestle him down. “It must be so funny,” you groan as you try to pin him down, straddling your legs on either side of his waist, “to still be pinned by- holy shit you’ve gotten strong.”

Yoongi takes his opportunity to flip the two of you over, switching positions and easily pinning your hands on either side of your head. Vaguely, you wonder how much time it took for him to gain so much strength, but your mind quickly shifts once you realize the precarious position that Yoongi has put you in.

Glancing down, you see his hips rest just above your navel, and images of the many nights you shared together flash through your mind. Rushed breathing and sweaty skin sticking together as you explored each other’s bodies and always found new ways to please each other. Briefly, a rush of heat flashes through your lower abdomen at the way your imagination flushes with possibilities of Yoongi’s touch.

You inhale, your chest heaving and Yoongi’s eyes fly to the way your cleavage displays itself for him. You’ve gotten fuller than before, and it suits you. He’s enjoying every second of it.

Before he can stop himself, he leans down and smashes his lips onto yours. The grip on your wrists loosen just enough for you to slip out and have your hands flying to his cheeks. He tastes the same as he did before, his smell intoxicating as it fills your nose. Your senses are overwhelmed with him, his tastes, his scent, the way his lips feel against yours. The familiarity is there, but they feel new and exciting at the same time, like you were pushed back to your youth.

He exhales against you as if he’s been waiting all night to do just this. Slipping his legs out from beneath him, he presses his chest against yours as your hands slide to the back of his neck to hold him against you. The rest of the world falls, dissolving into nothing. You keen helplessly as you feel him grind against you, and that noise seems to push Yoongi over the edge. He growls into your mouth, pulling away to start his descent onto your neck with bites and licks in all the places you loved before.

Arching into him, your hands loop through his black locks with a gasp as his tongue licks at your wine kissed collarbones.

This is everything you’ve been wishing for. Everything feels so right.

Yet, it’s wrong. You need to stop him. You need to ask him to pull away. But you can’t. He feels too fucking good. It’s not until he reaches the stop of your chest, his fingers hesitantly reaching at your collar does he look into your eyes for permission.

And you stop him.

“I- I think I need to go have a very uncomfortable conversation with Junwoo.” You state, and Yoongi’s face drops.

“I can’t believe you still managed to think about him when I was kissing you.” He says nearly incredulously, crawling off of you and leaning his back against the tree again. His chest is rising and falling faster than before, showing that your affect on him was much stronger than you previously had thought.

Your heart twinged at Yoongi’s cold tone. You swallow, “If you think there’s a possibility of us continuing this, I have to end things with Junwoo.”

Yoongi whines, “Why now?”

You let out a little giggle, sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder like you wanted to before. “Even if I didn’t do it right now, I don’t think we could go any further in the middle of a park.”

“I thought you liked exhibitionism.” Yoongi leans to the side, kissing you once again. It’s much breathier than before, and he prays that you don’t feel his heart pounding wildly in his rib cage at the mere thought of someone catching the two of you outside.

You gasp into the kiss and force yourself to pull away even though you didn’t want to at all. Giving him a look, Yoongi sighs.

“Okay, okay. I’ll drive you home so you can have that uncomfortable conversation.” He mutters, standing up and pulling you with him. He’s much more touchy than before, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders while he guides you back to his car.

The conversation you’re about to have with Junwoo will truly be one of the most anxiety inducing things you’ve ever done.

~*~*~

The dorms are dark when Yoongi arrives back. The living room in which everyone has a tendency to congregate after a particularly grueling practice day holds no one, a small reminder that everyone finally got some well deserved rest.

He hums softly to the tune of ‘People’, one of his favorite songs from his recent mixtape and opens the fridge to grab a bottle of water. When he closes it, Jimin is standing on the other side.

Yoongi jumps, “Jesus fucking christ, Park Jimin!”

“Didja get back together with her?”

“What?” Yoongi takes a second to assess Jimin’s pajama clad body, “N- no. We just hung out.”

“It’s a shame,” Jimin reaches forward and grabs the water bottle from Yoongi’s hand, “I heard you humming so I figured you finally got laid.” Yoongi opens his mouth to protest but Jimin continues before he can, “You know, I’ve known you for so long and I don’t think you’ve ever had a woman sign an NDA? Have you even had sex since you broke up with the pretty nurse?”

“I feel like that’s none of your business.” Yoongi yanks the water bottle back, opening it and praying that Jimin didn’t backwash.

“But it is my business because I have no clue how you did it. I’m sure she was fucking other guys regularly. I hear it’s bad for women to go without sex because they turn into-” Yoongi attempts to drown out the sounds of his roommate, his hand gripping the counter top tightly with unwanted images of you in another man’s bed ripping through his brain, “-and I’ve always wondered what it was like to only ever have your hand to get yourself off. Is it lonely? How much porn do you-”

“Jimin!” Yoongi shouts.

“Cutting me off is awfully rude, don’t you think?”

“Shut. the. fuck. up.” Yoongi grits his teeth, moving to walk away as Jimin laughs.

“Called it! I knew you were a born again virgi-”

“Goodnight!” Yoongi calls back, walking up to his room and locking the door behind him. He plops down onto his bed, the TV situated perfectly level with his bed. It’s a stark contrast to the small black and white TV he could afford all those years ago, so the familiar sound of his TV sounding on brings a smile to his face as he realizes yet again how fortunate he’s become.

Now he’s determined to make sure you feel the same sense of fortune that he has. Because he has you back in his life. Was it a twist of fate or the inevitability of soulmates, Yoongi isn’t sure. However, he’s immensely grateful to have you back, even if you’re not truly his yet.

~*~*~

"I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?!”

You cover your mouth as the unexpected sentence leaves your mouth. Junwoo sits in his office with his fists clenched tightly on top of his desk. He’s never been particularly good at hearing bad news, and even though it’s only been a few months you feel as though you’re signing divorce papers judging my his reaction.

It’s been two days since you last saw Yoongi. You put off speaking to Junwoo for a little bit to try and figure out exactly what you were going to say to him. You had a whole speech ready, talking about how he deserves better and that he’ll find his soulmate eventually.

But when the moment came, your speech was practically thrown to the ceiling fan and torn into a million pieces.

“W- why? What did I do?” Junwoo asks, he seems more angry than anything which you didn’t expect.

“You didn’t do anything,” you sigh, plopping in the seat on the other side of his desk, “I just don’t think it’s going to work out.”

“Everything was going so well!” Oh god, he’s yelling. “It’s that fucker Suga’s fault, isn’t it? He’s putting you up to this!”

“Fucking hell, Junwoo! How old are you, honestly? Immediately assuming that it was Yoongi is the most childish thing you could have done.” It is Yoongi, though. You know that, and unfortunately Junwoo knows that as well. It isn’t in good conscience to deny his allegations but you can’t help but do so.

Though, the inevitability of your relationship ending would have happened with out without Yoongi’s push.

“Well excuse me for thinking you would fuck a member of the biggest band on the planet! For God’s sake, any whore would drop their pants for one of them.”

Your jaw drops, “I didn’t fuck him.”

Junwoo rolls his eyes, “Are you sure? Because it’s almost like I could smell the stench coming off of you.”

You place your tongue in your cheek, biting back a response. Should have figured the man wouldn’t know how to take a break up.

Then, you laugh, “Okay. You got me, I fucked him.”

“I knew it.” Junwoo’s nostrils flare.

“Hundreds of times, eight years ago,” You spit, standing up quick enough for the chair behind you to tip over. “it wasn’t working out anyway and clearly that’s for the best. The last thing I need is a chauvinist asshole who refuses to see what was right in front of him.”

“I-”

“No,” you put your hand up, “I’m done.”

You turn around swiftly, walking out of his office and ignoring the stares from his receptionists. Surely they heard the yelling and the last thing you needed was to feel judged.

Except you weren’t being judged. Just before you reached the elevator, one of the girls spoke out. “You’re the second break up he’s had this week, don’t feel bad.”

You turn around, watching her flick vivaciously through a magazine. “What was that?” You speak slowly, turning around walking up to the desk.

“Another woman came by earlier this week, she said he’s been fucking some nurse behind her back and threw a ring at him.” She shrugs, then leans forward with a whisper, “You’re better off without him.”

You scoff, “and I had the decency to break up with him before I fucked someone else. Thanks for the tip, darling.”

As soon as the elevator doors close, you whip out your phone and text Yoongi.

To: Suga Delivered: 13:52

Deed is done if you still want me to come by

You make it to your car and hear your phone ding.

From: Suga Received: 13:57

I’ll meet you outside

Your heart flutters, so you start your car and drive as quickly as you can towards the directions of the dorm. It’s not hard, everyone in Seoul is keenly aware of where BTS stay, but there’s an unspoken rule that nobody is to bother them. One of the things you enjoyed most about this whole situation is the amount of respect they boys have earned, and you couldn’t feel more proud of Yoongi.

The gated group of buildings is intimidating to say the least, but you’re unable to contain your excitement as you pull up. Yoongi is a few feet away, waving from the other side of the gate as he presses a few buttons before you hear the gate click and begin to side open.

Your excitement over simply seeing him is nearly too much to contain. A week ago you struggled to not get nauseous at the thought of him seeing you but now you didn’t know how you ever made it without him. Inching your car forward became an arduous task because it took precious seconds away from you being able to kiss Yoongi once again.

So, you throw your car into park as the gates slip closed behind you and run out of your car to jump towards Yoongi.

He catches you, immediately slamming your lips onto his. It’s soft this time, the urgency isn’t there but he doesn’t mind the feeling of your hands gently tugging at his hair and scratching his scalp.

“Mm,” he hums against your lips, “does this mean you’re mine again?”

“With some adjustments to both of our lives,” you smile, “and making time for each other, then I’m willing to try again.”

“Good,” he grins, “let me take you inside and show you how much I’m gonna try.”

He slides you down his torso and grabs your hand, yanking you closely behind him. You let out a quiet yelp as he does so, following him into the building and welcoming the warmth that greets you. You’re lead through a long hallway but are stopped abruptly once Yoongi spots Hoseok walking through the living room.

“Hey pretty nurse, and Yoongi.” Hoseok says without looking up, and Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief.

You give him a questioning look but shake it off when Yoongi leads you up a lot of stairs and straight to his bedroom.

“Okay, there’s two ways this can go-” Yoongi slips his shirt over his head and you try to process everything as it’s happening because holy shit you’re going to fuck Yoongi for the first time in years and might actually be able to have an orgasm “-slow and steady or hard and fast.”

“Save the romance for next time,” you giggle, slipping your dress over your head and falling backwards onto his bed, “I haven’t had you inside me in years. Hard and fast.”

He chuckles, “You got it baby.”

He jumps on top of you, his hand flying to your thigh to steady your leg as he grinds his still clothed cock into your core. He’s already hard, and you’re already dripping. The last two days you spent not being near him was the most difficult thing you had experienced because you knew what was coming and how he was going to do it.

And you’re loving every second of it.

Spreading your legs wide, you reach between the two of you and play with the hem of his boxers. He groans into your mouth, inching upward so your hand slips further in, “No teasing, baby girl. Hard and fast.”

“Right, yes. I’m sorry.” you bite his bottom lip before lifting your hips and feeling his hands loop on either side of your panties to slip them down your legs. He drops between your legs immediately and inhales your scent, tossing his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, just like I remember.” Yoongi dives back, his nose brushing against your aching clit while his tongue darts out and licks your quivering hole. You let out a quiet moan but are quick to cover your mouth as you remember there are six other men on the other side of these thin walls.

The pleasure of knowing that he remembers your scent is enough to send you feral, your back arching off the bed as his lips finally wrap around your clit and sucks hard. The obscene sound of him drinking in your juices fills the room, his groans against your core sending chills up your spine. If there was anything you knew about Min Yoongi, it’s that he knew how to use his tongue.

You fill your core begin to heat up as your orgasm builds and before you know it, you’re uncovering your mouth and letting out a moan loud enough to be heard for miles.

Yoongi can’t help but smirk against you as he drinks in your release, moving to trail kisses up your abdomen as you come down from the pleasure.

“You ready for more?” He kisses your lips, and it’s then that you notice his cock his gloriously hard against his stomach, boxers long discarded.

“Please, yes. Please please plea-”

“Alright, hold your horses.” Yoongi jokes, brushing the head of his cock against your slit a few times teasingly.

You pout, “You said no teasing.”

He nods, “I can’t help it. Your face is so cute when you’re begging for my cock.”

As you’re thinking of a rebuttal, Yoongi finally slips inside. Both of you moan in pleasure at the clenching of your core. He remembers exactly how to move to get you to gasp, how deep to move to get you to clench, and he remembers what each of your movements mean. Your nails currently dig into his back harshly but he doesn’t complain, because that means his thrusts are going at just the right speed.

He wishes you can scream like you used to, but he realizes how weird that could be for his bandmates to hear. However, he can’t say that he necesarily minds all things considered. He’d love for Jimin to hear what he’s doing to you after the way his smart mouth moved the other night. He could imagine his face as he listens, but then Yoongi is dragged back to the moment when he feels you clench particularly hard.

You feel him tensing more and more, struggling to hold on as your vice grip on him tightens even further. The soft sponge of your warm cunt is nearly too much for him to bare, and as you feel your second orgasm approach, you grip Yoongi’s face in your hands, “Cum for me. Please.” His eyes flutter closed and he begins to thrust faster, lips on yours and sweat building on both of your foreheads. Then, your second orgasm washes over you deliciously, Yoongi’s hips stuttering before he follows with his own release, his cum coating your walls white. He’s still for a moment, gasping above you. When you reach up and brush the hair from his forehead, he collapses on top of you, “Fuck, that’s even better than I remembered.”

“Good,” you giggle, kissing his nose, “because there’s so much more I want to try with you.”

His heart flutters irrevocably, knocking the wind out of him when he realizes that you’re in this for the long run just as he is. This time he swears he’s going to make it work, and he plans on spending the rest of his life with you.

His lips brush against you once again, then he speaks.

“Write me a list, baby girl.”

#ty for reading!!#min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi #suga #bts #suga x reader #suga x reader smut #yoongi x reader smut #min yoongi x reader smut #suga x reader fluff #yoongi x reader fluff

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi hello I would love to know more about this tidbit from your oher fic? “Three months after we moved in together, Remus slept on the couch for a week because he hated the way I left toothpaste on the sink.” “I wasn’t even angry about the toothpaste.” Remus got up to refill Leo’s water glass. “I was scared we were moving too fast and that everything would fall apart.” pretty please with puppy dog eyes?

Anything for you, Beyonce! Hope you enjoy your trip on the angst train >:)

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for couples arguments, self-isolation, mild anxiety

Day 1

“Oh my god, Sirius.” Remus shoved his toothbrush back in the holder more aggressively than he probably needed to. His hands were shaking, though whether it was from rage or something else, he wasn’t sure.

“What?”

“Really? Again?”

“What?” Sirius asked again. He had the nerve to sound truly bewildered and the bed creaked as he stood up. “What did I do?”

“You left the toothpaste uncapped and it’s all over the sink,” Remus sighed, running his hand down his face. It was too late to fight about this.

Sirius gave him a look. “Re, there’s literally one smudge.” He swiped it away with his thumb. “There. Better?”

“No, it’s not better. I told you I hate it when you do that.”

“Are you okay? You seem…upset.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” he snapped. Sirius recoiled at his tone and he bit back a second retort. “Look, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

“What—sweetheart—”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, okay?” Remus grabbed a fresh set of pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt out of the dresser. He couldn’t handle being surrounded by Sirius’ smell right now. “Just…not tonight.”

Day Two

They ate breakfast silently. Every ping of Sirius’ spoon against his cereal bowl was like nails on a chalkboard as he choked down a slice of toast and all but chugged his coffee. “So…” Sirius started, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. “Do you want to talk about what happened last night?”

“Not really,” Remus muttered. “I’m going to run to Target and get some groceries.”

“In your pajamas?”

Remus went upstairs without a word. He slept on the living room couch again that night and tried desperately not to miss Sirius’ solid warmth next to him. This is good for you both, he repeated again and again and again. Space is good. Space is healthy.

Day Three

Sirius didn’t bring it up again, but he stole quick, worried glances that Remus caught in his periphery whenever they were in the same room together. There was a gentle knock on the living room doorframe and he poked his head in, offering Remus a grilled cheese sandwich that basically broke his heart. “I’m really sorry about the toothpaste,” he said softly when Remus didn’t respond. “Um, I made dinner, but you seemed busy. So. Here.”

“Thanks,” Remus managed. As soon as he heard the bedroom door close upstairs, silent tears began streaking down his face. The sandwich tasted like sawdust. “You need to breathe,” he reminded himself. “If you move too fast it’s going to fall apart. If you can’t exist apart then you won’t be healthy together.”

And yet somehow he was unhappier than he had been in more than three months, even when they were still living in the same house.

Day Four

Remus ran errands. Hung out with Lily in the park. Made lunch and left a brief note next to the crock pot for Sirius to find when he was done working out. Love you, it read. Simple. Normal. Healthy.

His back was beginning to cramp from the too-small couch. His feet were cold every night. Lily’s silent concern played over and over again in his head as he drifted into a fitful sleep.

Day Five

It was getting easier to create distance with Sirius despite the fact that they shared most spaces. He offered quick smiles when they passed each other in the hallway, chaste kisses whenever he left the house, and even scooted over to make room for him on the couch when the Avatar reruns started on Nickelodeon.

“Remus, are you mad at me?” Sirius asked after a period of suffocating silence. Hearing him say his name was strange—his accent curled around it in an unfamiliar way, like he was making a conscious effort not to slip up. Remus squeezed his eyes shut. It was agonizing to be so close to him and yet so far away. They always cuddled on the couch.

“No,” Remus said in a small voice. “No, I’m not mad at you.”

“Is this…are you breaking up with me?” From the soft huff of air that came after it, Remus knew he had been sitting on this for a long time.

“What? No!” He turned, making eye contact for the first time in days. It was brutal and made him feel raw. “No, I love you.”

Sirius’ shoulders folded in slightly and he fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “Are you coming back to bed soon?”

“I—I don’t know,” Remus forced himself to say. I love you! He wanted to scream. I love you so much it’s scaring me. I miss everything about you, even the toothpaste smudges on the sink and the way you look at me when you find more of my socks scattered around. I miss holding you and racing shopping carts in Target with you. I miss your laugh and your smile and just being near you. “Probably. I’m not sure. I’m sorry.”

“Take your time.” The words sounded like they pained him. “Take all the time you need.”

“This isn’t payback,” Remus said. “Sirius, this is not payback for the time we spent hiding, okay?”

Sirius gave him an astonished look. “How did you…?”

“Because I know you.” He was miserable. So fucking miserable. “I know you, Sirius, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

One question hung unspoken between them. Then why are you staying away?

Day Six

Sirius was gone when he woke up, but a sticky note in his careful handwriting rested on the end table near Remus’ face. He frowned as he sat up—he been too drained to deal with tangled blankets when he went to sleep, but sometime in the night they had been smoothed all the way up to his shoulder and a second one had been added to cover his feet. Remus shoved down the urge to burst into tears and grabbed the note to distract himself.

Remus, it began. Ouch.

Pots and I are taking Harry to the park today, I’ll be back around six. Lily said she wanted to talk with you at some point so keep an eye out for her calls. Thanks for picking up extra pasta at the store.

Love you,

Sirius

He smoothed his thumb over the note, feeling each bump and curl of Sirius’ pencil because his vision was too blurry to make out the words a second, third, fourth time. “This is bullshit,” he said to himself. “This is bullshit!”

When the slight echo of his shout faded out, he set it back on the table and curled up, drawing both blankets tight around himself. “Why am I doing this?”

1. You had sex before you went on a real date

2. You went through a traumatic event and are still working through it

3. You’re so fucking scared of how much you love him

4. You want to spend forever with him because he’s your best friend, too

5. Normal couples date for at least a year before moving in together

6. Normal couples—

“Fuck it.” He shook his head to clear the anxiety list from his brain. He had been reciting it to himself for days as some sort of convoluted justification. “Fuck it. I love him and this is bad for both of us. So what if we’re not a normal couple? What the hell is a normal couple? We’re never going to be normal and I love him, I love him, I…”

The low sobs that resonated in his chest burned in the best way. His breathing was even, but he just couldn’t repress this anymore. “I’m a coward,” he sniffled, sliding further under the heavy blankets. His pajamas only smelled like laundry detergent and regret. “And an idiot.”

The phone rang and he picked it up. “Hey, Lils.”

“Well, you sound like a wreck.”

“I know.”

“What’s going on, Re?”

“I’m an idiot.”

“And?”

“And I’m in love with him.”

“And?”

“I’m done self-flagellating to try and fit the societal standards of a healthy relationship based on heterosexuality.”

“There’s my Remus,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Are you okay? I was worried about you.”

“Better now. I’ll fix this when Sirius gets home.”

“Good. You’re both suffering from this.”

Day Seven

When Remus woke up, it was pitch-black outside. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered to the ceiling, scrubbing at his itchy eyes. The wall clock read 12:06. After another thirty minutes of crying, he had cleaned the whole house top to bottom, went for a run, and then apparently passed out on the couch for five hours.

Fix this. In any other circumstance, Remus would have spent at least an hour fretting over every tiny detail. But this was Sirius. This was about owning the fact that he was happiest with Sirius and that he had unintentionally hurt him by trying to create distance that they didn’t actually need.

With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself up the stairs and knocked softly on the bedroom door. There was a moment of silence, then a sleepy voice. “Re?”

“Hey, baby. Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius hadn’t bothered turning on the light, so the room was dark as he slipped in and closed the door behind him. Sudden nervousness washed through him. “I’m sorry.”

There was a rustle as Sirius sat up. “Why did you do that?”

“I thought—” His mouth was so dry. “It’s so stupid.”

“Please tell me.”

“I thought we needed space. I didn’t want space, you didn’t want space, but I was afraid we were moving too fast and that we’d suddenly wake up one morning and hate each other. That everything would crumble because we rushed into everything.”

“Hmmm.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“After day three, yeah. And then I was just worried. You seemed really unhappy and I didn’t know why.” Sirius paused. “Um, I called your mom.”

“What? When?”

“Friday morning. That was what, day…four? I heard you crying downstairs and I was afraid someone had died or something.” His voice wobbled. “She was worried, too, but she said you might just need to work through it.”

“I’m so sorry, Sirius.”

“I know.”

“Can I…?”

“C’mere.” Sirius reached over and lifted the edge of the covers up on Remus’ side—as far as he could tell, they had been left tucked in the whole time. “I love you,” he murmured as Remus curled up.

“I love you so much.” He carefully reached out and brushed their hands together, and Sirius wrapped an arm around him to pull him close. “So much, you have no idea. That was the worst week.”

Sirius’ heartbeat was steady as Remus kissed the top of his head and melted into his warmth. “I capped the toothpaste in the bathroom.”

When Remus laughed, it was a little teary. “I say this with all the love in the world, Sirius, but I couldn’t care less about the goddamn toothpaste. I care about you.”

His hold tightened and Remus squeezed his eyes shut. I know, it said. I’ve got you. I love you. You can stay.

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mieohmy · 3 years

Text

𝖲𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗒 𝖢𝖺𝗍 𝖶𝗁𝗈? | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖧𝖺𝖾𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇

PAIRING: lee haechan x reader

GENRE: humor, fluff, haunted house au, friends-to-maybe-more?

WC: 1.2k

NOTES: cursing, horror/scary things 🤡 boo maybe a Halloween drabble in January 🤠?

↳ “Don’t let go. If you do, I think I’ll die.”

✧

You weren’t going. No way. So what if you have to be stuck at home ignoring annoying doorbells from candy deprived kids who just rampaged from door to door? It was way better than going to the highest-rated horror house in the city... right?

“Listen, I’m staying here. I’m not going to scream my brains out and get killed by a clown alright? End of discussion.”

“Come onnn, it’ll be so much fun. The fear is the best part,” Renjun tries to convince you for the nth time. “Who wants to be alone on Halloween?”

You reply with no hesitation. ‘’Me.”

“Y/n,” he groans in frustration, “you’re not gonna die. You can just stick by Haechan’s side, no biggie.”

Renjun’s response causes you to furrow your eyebrows. “Why Haechan?”

“Well, he won’t stop bragging about how fearless he is, so he can protect you... I guess?”

You snort, “Haechan protecting me? Why would he want to do that?”

His eye suddenly twitches, specifically the left one, you note. “Uh- no reason. Hey guys, you ready?” he calls out to the other guys.

“Yeah, did y/n finally change their mind?” Chenle asks.

“Of course. They’re gonna change, and then we’re leaving.” Renjun glares at you with such ferocity that you simply turn and walk to your room to get ready.

✧

You regretted going. Waiting in line was literally torture. The never-ending screams were torture. Everything was torture.

“Guys, I don’t think I can do this anymore. Didn’t you just hear those kids screaming? It literally sounded like they were actually getting murdered.”

“Oh don’t be a baby, it’s gonna be great getting chased by clowns,” Renjun states.

Haechan puffs up his chest. “Or the clowns are gonna be chased by me.” There’s a moment of silence before you speak up again.

“Seriously, how come Jisung wasn’t forced to come and I was?”

“Cause,” Jaemin replies, “He’s a baby. Mine, specifically.”

You roll your eyes, bottom lip jutted out in frustration. “What about me? Am I not a baby?”

“Nah- oh heck no,” Chenle says, head shaking from side to side.

Haechan mutters under his breath, “you can be mine..”

“Ughhhh I’m gonna die, and it’s gonna be all your guys’ fault.” You might’ve tried to escape the line and run away as fast as your legs can take you but there’s always that one person who stops you.

“No, you won’t.” Renjun shoves you toward Haechan, making you stumble into his arms. “Since you think you’re all so strong and mighty, you can take care of them.” You’re too busy grumbling to notice Haechan’s flustered expression.

The line moves up and the horrible feeling in your stomach grows every step closer.

When the group in front of you enters the death house, you tightly clench whoever’s arm is right next to you. “Oh my god, we’re almost in.”

Haechan lets out a strained laugh, weakly attempting to remove your iron grip from his arm.

And then the door opens. You feel the cool air flow out and shiver. Chenle lets out an excited woohoo! and dashes in.

You’re frozen, staring at the darkness emitting from the door until a voice cuts in.

“Come on, y/n. We can do it.” You look up at Haechan, a hand offered in front of you.

And so you take it, entering the haunted house with the rest of the boys.

It isn’t too bad -is what you thought for the first five steps into the house.

It helped that everyone was giggling at all the lame props that didn’t seem so horrifying after all.

Horribly fake decorations? Okay. Bloodied corpse? Ehhh...

Is that a murder chainsaw guy? Goodbye.

You swear it was some weird vase decoration or whatever, but when it stands up and that roaring engine sound comes to life, everyone erupts in screams and scatters throughout the place.

You're not sure where you are, where everyone else is. The house feels so much scarier alone. In total, you’ve been jump scared by three zombies, one skeleton, and a coat hanger.

You’re not even sure how you’ve been moving through this maze of a house. For real, how many doors and hallways have you walked through?

After a creepy girl pops up right in your face, you wail, almost on the verge of tears. There’s no choice but to run away, maybe find someone else or an exit. Where is everyone?

Turning a corner, you bump into something, immediately falling to the ground and shrieking. Wait a second. You may be hearing things, but it sounded like another scream? One was yours for sure, and you’re pretty confident that your voice didn’t suddenly become deeper...?

“Fuck- wait a sec... Oh thank goodness, y/n !!”

Whimpering, you peek an eye open to see a relieved Haechan. It was hard to recognize him, the house being so dark and all.

“W-where’s everyone else?”

He helps you up, not letting go of your hand afterward. “I don’t know... We all lost each other after that creepy chainsaw man.”

You pause. “You know, for someone saying that they were so good at these horror things, you were sure scared to bump into me.”

“W-whatever. I can barely see anything. Come on, let’s stick together. I don’t think I can handle this anymore.”

Slowly, the two of you continue through the house. You never loosen your grip on his hand. you don’t think you physically can.

After a weird clown guy literally comes out the wall(??), the two of you barely make it past, Haechan babbling random useless threats.

You bury your head into his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t let go. If you do, I think I’ll die.”

If you keep saying things like that, I think I’ll be the one to die, Haechan bitterly thinks in his head.

“Haechan... I-I think I see it!” “See what?” “Maybe my eyes are deluding me, but I think that’s the exit? Right?”

You both glance up at the giant EXIT sign in neon green positioned above a door.

It takes a few seconds of studying and squinting before you two share a glance and vigorously push through, tumbling outside back into the normal world.

The sight of the black sky never seemed so reassuring before.

“Y-y/n, we did it!! We escaped that rotten house!!”

Laughing in joy, Haechan picks you up, spinning in circles until you can’t breathe. Maybe it was being in his arms or staring into his sparkling eyes that caused your heart to beat faster.

“GUYS!” Haechan finally sets you down at the outburst. How convenient, the rest of your group basically collapses outside the exit.

“Please- let’s just get the hell outta here. That skeleton seriously moved, I swear. But...how did you guys escape so fast?” Renjun asks, a suspicious glint in his eyes.

You share a smile with Haechan, growing when his hand sneaks around to fit with yours.

“Cause we had the guts to do so.”

“.........was that supposed to be a p-”

“No, y/n. Don’t say anything. Don’t even give him a response.”

Maybe haunted houses were pretty fun. With the right people, of course.

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #nct haechan #haechan x reader #lee haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream scenarios #donghyuck scenarios

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avenirdelight · 3 years

Text

Stop Searching | PART 3

Trent Alexander-Arnold

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

“Why don’t you just be with me, then?”

Trent’s words halt her tracks. She truly feels like the world just stops. She and Trent are walking home to her house from a convenience store at the corner of the street. For the whole afternoon she has been telling Trent about this other new bloke that she recently met. She tells Trent how this lad at work approached her. He’s cute, she thinks, but she feels like something is off about him. Then Trent just blurted out the words, reinforced by two factors: one, it’s starting to hurt him listening to her talking about guys who’s just going to break her heart, and two, it frustrates him that she never talks about him the way she gushes about those blokes.

“I think I need more explanation to that. Care to elaborate?” she asks as she turns around. Trent has stopped walking too, now standing only a few feet in front of her.

“I mean, you wonder why can’t you find someone like me, and I think you really won’t, because no one is going to treat you the way I do. So if I am someone you want to be with, then why don’t you be with me?” Trent lets the words out without thinking twice. He feels like his heart could burst out of his chest in any second.

The past two months have been torturing for him. He has loved her since they were sixteen and now Trent is so used to the feeling of loving her. But lately, he feels like his love for her grows. Trent doesn’t understand why, he didn’t even think it’s possible, but now it’s getting out of control.

The way he always wants to touch her more, the way he wishes he can take her everywhere and show people how gorgeous his girl is, the way he wanted to kiss her when he saw her in that ruby red dress she wore to a party last week, it’s driving him crazy. He has started feeling things he has never felt before.

For the first time in his life, he wants her to be his lover.

“You’re not being serious, Trent.” It sounds more like a statement than a question. Her brain freezes. She wonders if Trent’s suggestion means that he actually wants her to be his girlfriend. She comes to the first conclusion that pops into her mind and lets the words slip from her tongue. “Are you saying that you like me? Oh, God. Trent, you are my best friend.”

Trent chuckles. She notices the frustration both in his voice and his face. “Oh, so it’s because I’m your best friend I can’t become your lover? So you go around looking someone like me instead, when the fact is I literally have everything you’ve ever wanted from a man?”

“Wait, why does it sound like you’re blaming me?” she looks puzzled. By now she’s pretty sure that Trent was somewhat confessing to her. So she doesn’t understand why he suddenly blames her for something else. “Don’t blame me for not being a mind reader who can magically understand that you feel a certain way towards me.”

Trent sighs heavily, running his hand through his hair. He knows he just said things that he had been burying deep somewhere in his mind and have been coming to the surface so often lately. He’s not in the best mood today, but he didn’t mean to suddenly confess in this cloudy and windy afternoon, on the side of the street, on their way home from buying her mom sweet corn and cheese. It was definitely his frustration speaking.

Trent knows he just messed everything up from his sudden inability to shut his mouth, but it’s too late turn back now. An hour ago they were still being normal, laughing at each other’s stupid jokes, and now he’s not sure they’re still going to be best friends in the next hour.

The fear starts to creep on him, his mind is just about to wander around searching for any decent words he can possibly say to fix this up. He has gone a little bit too far, he can’t say that he’s just joking and ask her to forget it, can he?

—

i’m extending this mini series to 5 parts☺️ if you feel like my writing style slightly changes in this series, it’s because i’m constantly learning, trying to play with words, figure out what i like and what i can do to make my writings better. this series has become my little experiment that i love very much! thank you for the support that you guys have shown for this series🤍

My Masterlist🤍

#avenirdelightwrites #trent alexander-arnold imagines #footballer imagines #football imagines #trent alexander-arnold one shot #footballer one shot #football one shot #trent alexander-arnold blurbs #footballer blurbs #football blurbs #imagine #one shots #blurb #avenirdelight gif

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rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years

Note

Hi you could write something in which Draco is in love with a Hufflepuff girl, but she is a little afraid of him and always runs away if they get too close, Draco gets a little desperate to get her attention and ends up using Amortentia to make her fall in love with him ... You could have a little anguish, but end up with a happy ending?My first language is not English I'm sorry if you got confused

This is so creative Holy shit you guys have got some good ideas!

The potion. That GOD. DAMN. POTION. It all started with potions class. You were forced to be partners with Draco Malfoy. THE DRACO MALFOY. The one that scared the absolute daylights out of you. You were a relatively outgoing person, you were an absolute sweetheart to the first years in your house, how could Draco NOT notice you. Your hair was always in a ponytail, but there were these few strands that were always loose in the front that made the ponytail look adorable, though it was cleared you’d always get frustrated with them. Draco noticed these little things that you did, biting the end of pencils when you were focused, your habit of getting distracted easily and fidgeting with something like the ring on your finger, the fact that your best friend was always waiting outside your class and you’d usually get really excited when you knew you’d pass an exam. He was so in love it hurt. The poor guy would stay up at night sometimes and think about you. It was always when he couldn’t sleep. But the part that frustrated him the most is you wouldn’t talk to him. You always jumped or had this look that resembled pure terror whenever he’d talk to you. You’d start shaking, you’d nearly knocked things off your desk or you’d just apologize A LOT. Draco couldn’t understand this. Why were you afraid of him?

There was this potions project that came up, Draco needed to work outside of class with you for. You loathed this. Because that meant having to talk, and talking meant the possibility of you messing up your words and saying something absolutely idiotic in front of him. It was no secret to your best friend Lila that you had this massive crush on the boy. To everyone else it just looked like he freaked you out just by BREATHING. Your mind couldn’t function around him, you always would trip, knock things over or stutter. So you kept quiet around him. Today that wasn’t possible. You needed to work with him and actually talk. You were a mess, always fucking up your words, shaking so bad you had to leave a couple of times, hiding your face behind large books. The next day was a bit different. You two needed specific books for this project and you knew EXACTLY where to get each one. “So you spend a lot of time in here?” Draco asked as you handed him a book. “Y-yeah. Granger u-usually studies with me.” You muttered. Well shit, of course you knew where everything was if you studied with Hermione. You handed him another book. “What books do you typically like to read?” Draco asked curiously. “U-uh... M-muggle ones u-usually older ones.” you said handing him another book. “Ah.” He nodded. You mistepped on the ladder and fell back, Draco dropping the books and catching you. Your face was becoming redder by the second and you jumped back. “T-t-thanks.” You said. “No problem. Can’t have you messing up that beautiful smile of yours.” He flirted making you nearly scream. Have you ever seen Inside out? If you have then you know that one scene with the boy that likes Riley and his brain screaming “GIRL. GIRL. GIRL.” over and over again. This was you. “I-I left something in p-potions I’ll b-be right back.” you squeaked out. You sprinted down the hall and practically screamed. How in the hell was this easy for Fred and George?

Draco sighed. Great. He scared you. AGAIN. He picked up one of the many books he dropped before seeing the title. “Love potions”. Oh... Maybe just maybe he could use something here. No that would be absurd... Or would it. It certainly would get you talking to him... Maybe if he used... A little? No... Unless? Well you two did manage to finish the project, his excuse to see you again falling apart. Destiny worked in his favor however when he had to make a love potion for class. Amortentia. The class all had to say what they smelled. But you didn’t say anything, accepting the poor participation grade when it came. There was no way in hell you were admitting you smelled Draco in that cauldron. Draco slipped a small bit of the potion into a small vial, keeping it with him in case he changed his mind. Well he did. After saving your ass yet again from falling. “Do you enjoy falling on me or something?” He asked with a laugh. “I-I didn’t mean to f-fall f-for you-- I MEAN ON YOU!” You screamed. He blinked a few times. He just... He couldn’t take it anymore. So he sat by you one day. Scared the bejesus out of you naturally, but he slipped it in your drink. You sipped it and rose a brow. “That’s... Sweeter than I remember.” You muttered to yourself. Draco was good at potions. So why the fuck were you FUCKING UP EVEN MORE?

More tripping, stumbling, falling, screaming, clumsy events were taking place. Did he mess up or something? He finally got an answer when you (yes. again.) tripped onto the poor guy and he caught you before you could hit the ground. “Y/n, you’ve got to stop falling for me like this, it’s getting ridiculous.” Draco teased. “It’s not my fault those silver eyes are really distracting!” You breathed out. Yep. There it was. Your face heated up. Where the fuck did that surge of confidence even come from!? “What was that Love?” Draco asked making your heart pound. You stood up straight. “You’re absolutely distracting dude, who is this attractive before they’re eighteen?” You asked. Oh God. Stop talking. PLEASE STOP FUCKING TALKING. “... I see.” Draco said with a small smile tugging at his lips. “Have your lips always looked that great or am I hallucinating?” you asked. He was trying really hard not to laugh at how quickly this coming out of your mouth. “Y/n, are you flirting with me?” He asked. “Ding ding ding, we have a winner.” You said. WHAT THE FUCK MAN!? SHUT THE FUCK UP PLEASE OR ELSE YOU’LL-- “I mean why else do you think I’m such a fuck up around you?” You snorted. SHIT. BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD-- Draco blinked. “What?” Draco asked, his reaction going from amused to “WAIT WHAT?”. “Yeah, I screw up all the time because you’re very distracting. Like have you seen that ass--” “OKAYYY Y/N!” Your friend said dragging you off. “What the fuck are you doing!?” Lila asked. “I don’t know, please make it stop-- Why is he coming over HERE!?” you whined. “I have to ask for clarification. You don’t hate me?” Draco asked. “HA! No! I’m ridiculously in love with you--” Lila slammed her hand over your mouth and smiled politely. “Y/n. Stop talking.” She begged. “For how long?” Draco asked, making sure this wasn’t coming from the potion. “Since our third year, did you know your hair brings out your eyes, because I sure did-- LILA HELP ME” You whined. “Excuse us Draco--” He pulled out another vial and pulled you forward. “Open.” He said. “Are we about to kiss right now--” He dropped a couple of droplets of a reversal potion in your mouth and you shot back. You coughed a couple of times because my God it tasted horrible.

Lila rose a brow as Draco ran a hand over his face and you frowned. “Oh god. OH GOD OH GOD I FUCKED UP!” You groaned. Draco opened his mouth. “DON’T. SAY. A. WORD.” You groaned smacking your head onto the wall. Lila sighed and then it hit her. “wait a minute. That was Amortentia.” She said. Oh no. “YeS LILA I’M AwAre” You groaned. Draco inched back and she turned to him. “The potion only makes you attracted to--” “Who made it-- Yes Lila I’m aware of how it....” You leaned off the wall, turning to her. “Wait... a damn minute.” You said before looking at Draco. “Did you use a love potion on me!?” You asked. “I...” He sighed. “In my defense I didn’t mean for it to be that strong. I only wanted to make you hate me less!” He said. You blinked. “Hate you-- Draco I don’t hate you!” You said. “Well I know that now!” Draco said. You opened your mouth and then closed it. You sighed and just walked away. “Draco. Next time you have a crush GO TO THE BEST FRIEND. I swear boys are fucking idiots!” Lila groaned following after you.

You avoided Draco like the plague, not even showing up to potions for a week. Draco hated this. He knew it was a bad plan, after all the potion would have to wear off eventually. But now you weren’t even talking or looking at him. He decided to give you your space, sitting outside in the courtyard rather than the great hall.

He sighed, closing his book when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see you. “Y/n... Look I am--” “Don’t. Give me a second okay?” You said before reaching in your bag. You held up a vial. “Truth serum?” Draco asked. “Yep.” You nodded. you uncorked the bottle and sighed. “Bottoms up.” You muttered before drinking some of it. Draco rose a brow. “I love you. I have since our third year. I constantly trip over everything because you literally are on my mind most of the time. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you. I don’t, truth be told I can’t even form proper English around you much less walk. You don’t have to say anything.” you finally said. Draco blinked a couple of times. He looked at the vial and sighed. “Mind if I take some of that?” he asked. You handed him the vial and he finished it off. “I love you. I have since our first year when I literally ran into a post watching you laugh at a prank Fred pulled. I used the love potion because I was under the impression you hated me, not that you loved me. You hide your emotions well, let me tell you. I won’t do it again and I’m genuinely sorry.” he said. You blinked a few times. Well at least you couldn’t lie. “I have to know this though and I’m so sorry... But do I actually have a great ass?” He teased making you blush and shake your head. “You’re something else Draco.” You said with a giggle. He smiled and took your hand into his. “I love you Y/n.” He said softly, taking your hands into his. “I love you too... And to answer your question yes, you have a fantastic ass.” You said making him laugh. He shook his head before kissing you, holding you close in his arms as he did. “I have wanted to do that for years.” you said with a laugh. He smiled and kissed your forehead. “We have a lot to catch you up on.” He said taking your hand. “Ugh... Studying. Damn it.” you grumbled. He turned around, fingers under your chin.

“I didn’t mean classwork darling.”

#draco fuckingmalfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n

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belle-keys · 3 years

Text

I Love Matthew Fairchild aka Incoherent Thoughts about Chain of Iron (2021) by Cassandra Clare

I made one of these rant-rave reviews for SJM's book so check it out if you want, no pressure tho lmao.

Aight so I finished Chain of Iron last night and OMG I HAVE TO YELL like I loved it sooo much like yooo, I have a lot to say. I know the book is new so... beware for spoilers plebs.

Also context: I been reading the Shadowhunter books since I was 12 and I'm 19 now *insert dead emoji face* so yeah, I'm just so happy rn with where the Chronicles have come and the fact that they’re still ongoing *insert uwu face*. I remember when in like 2014-2015 or something when Cassandra Clare teased that Will and Tessa's kids' generation was gonna get a trilogy set in Edwardian London, loosely based on Great Expectations, and holy hell? I think that was perhaps one of the best days of my life considering how much I adore The Infernal Devices (that trilogy really changed the way I see YA literature... don't ask cus I won't shut up about it) (also yes I read TMI and loved it too but there's a “generation gap” between TMI and the other Shadowhunter books stylistically so don't ask me about that either cus I also won't shut up).

Anyway, shoo from here if you want a critical essay on Chain of Iron. I'm not providing that, this is just me raving here for the fun.

Listen... I want the bulk of this to just be two main things: The Matthew Situation, and then all the literary and judeo-christian meta aspects of it.

BUT I ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE SO FRICK LET'S JUST START WITH THE OBVIOUS SHIT LIKE THE PLOT AND WHATEVER

Okay, the plot and writing and shit, let's get that out of the way:

The WHOLE Jack-the-Ripper-esque ambiance was just sooooo good man wow like I did not expect the book to take this cold turn but it worked so well. There was such a contrast between Jamie and Cordelia's warm little house and then the cold winter and the stabbings and shit and it felt like a nice little callback to the actual Ripper phenomenon that preceded them and a nod to the Whitechapel Fiend story from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.

Bitch OFC that whole thing with Wayland was a set-up like nawww that was too easy to spot and I get why Cordelia feels like shit about it.

Dawg Lucie was just the Among Us imposter here in that my girl was just venting and sneaking around with dead people and I was like nooooo girl run, don't deal with Fade this is a set-up THINK ABOUT JULES LUCIE THAT'S LIKE YO GREAT-GRANDSON *sobs* but yeah anyway my girl has death powers she gonna kill some bitches next book.

You see that confrontation between Lilith and Belial? MASTERPIECE DIALOGUE like this was the point within which I was just like "yo is this the book of Genesis or a YA Fantasy novel" like when Lilith said "I may have been cast out but I did not fall" like??????????????????? I YELLED she did not have to END Belial like that. What a bad bitch.

More on Lilith and Belial... "You, who brought nations into darkness? Shall I finally be able to tell the infernal realms you have gone mad, lost even the image of the Creator." HAHAHHAHAHA SHE SAID "YO BELIAL GO GET SOME THERAPY AND GET OFF MY ASS" LIKE??????

Ughhhh yasss Clare has improved writing diverse characters in this book compared to in The Dark Artifices in my opinion... I'm not gonna expand on it cus ain't nobody got time for that but like, I enjoyed how she wove Persian poetry and tales into the story and the way in which she writes Cordelia and Alistair. They're not caricatures of Persian people but rather multi-faceted beings who also happen to be Persian and I appreciate that. Also, Alistair and Thomas and Anna and Ariadne were just so fun and interesting to read as coupbles but also as individuals. She really higlighted diversity in a very natural manner. All I need is a hijabi character and I’ll die a happy woman lmao.

The level of META man like the references to Classics and art (I swear, she might have compared Matthew to angels out of Caravaggio AND Rosetti AND Boticelli paintings and I Am Living For It) and just all the quotes from holy books and shit omg I love it here like you really feel catapulted into the time period, she draws reference to external art and philosophy so well and I feel like she upped the notch on it in this book (didn’t know that was possible but it was the prose is BEAUTIFUL, archaic, but not pretentiously so). No, like the characters live in their OWN worlds of literature and art and history in the way we are living in THEIRS. They quote Wilde and Milton while we'll quote Clare. It's awesome.

This is an unusually structuralist take even from me but: I like the way the milieu social of the book, i.e., the high society Edwardian circles and their values, have a direct influence on the plot. James and Cordelia got married because society’s values essentially forced them to, not a demon. Cordelia abandons Jamie at the end of Iron because her shame as a woman in society and fear for her reputation made her, not a demon. Thomas and Alistair can't be together solely because of how Alistair tarnished the reputation of the Fairchilds and Lightwoods by using the horror of infidelity against them. Issues relating to marriage, gender roles, etc, stemming DIRECTLY from the time period rule the sequence of events to the same degree as the epic fantasy aspects (demons, Princes of Hell, the lore itself) do and I LOVE that dear God above.

OKAY THE GOOD SHIT LET US TALK ABOUT CHARACTERS AND SHIPS (N.B. but imma discuss Matthew and the Fairstairs situation separately below this portion):

Alistair's redemption arc: No, cus Alistair's redemption arc is honestly amazing. He really did change and it's not like his betterment as a person was linked to any one heroic deed but rather he simply decided he wanted to be better especially for his family and he decided to become a proper protective son, a caring brother, and an amiable friend. He fully owned up to his Malfoy tendencies and apologized without expecting forgiveness. He shows how he cares in the little ways and omg it's so sweet and tender. I really do want him to love himself now and be embraced by Matthew especially and the rest of the Thieves.

Dawg Lucie and Jesse are so funny to me like it's so hilarious how this girl fell in love with a whole ass ghost that no one else knows about like HHAHA. Are Lucie and Jesse my ult ship ever? Nah, but it's nothing to do with Clare, it's just that their relationship happened pretty quick and feels quite like something epicly romantic that Lucie herself would write. I just like slow burn and friends-to-lovers the most from Clare. To be honest part of me just wanted Lucie to not have a romantic arc all together but like, it's all good, I'm not complaining.

Okay Grace- like yooooooooooo I never hated her yunno. She has been abused and isolated all her life. It's not that she is a bad person, but rather that she does not know what being a person even entails. Can't even say she's a “doll” of a person cus she's never even been pampered like one by her family. I really started understanding her motivations since when they gave us her half-childhood with Jesse. I want better for her but cmon can she REALLY be saved???

GRACE X CHRISTOPHER *pretends to be shocked*... Okay, sometime in the middle of the Dark Artifices series some big brain put together a very thorough family tree of the families and like, it clearly showed that Grace and Christopher got married so like, lmfaooooo, I knew this was coming one way or another, but the journey to this ship is more important than the destination. Like in a way Christopher is such a cute baby lamb that it makes sense he'd end up being immune to her Grace-ness when he's just a cute little Einstein boiii. Like this is just so funny to me cus he's so oblivious to social conventions while she makes the milieu social her entire life so OFC it's gonna work. Like, this is such a worlds-colliding trope like just Give It To Me.

James and Grace - aw mannn Jamie just had me fricking wanting to hit a wall every two seconds cus like yooooooo every single time I think he and Cordelia are gonna stop being emotionally-constipated spouses, Jamie says some kinda shit like "omg me and Daisy are just friends uwu" like DO I NEED TO HIT YOU?????????? See I can't blame him for not slamming the door on Grace's face even tho he totes should- Jamie is so cerebral and kind that even if Grace wasn't using the enchantment on him, I think he would always be soft for her even if it isn't in a romantic way. There's just so much miscommunication cus like he said "Thank God" when she broke off the engagement with Charles and lowkey embraced her but it also wasn't his fault cus it wasn't even romantic BUT OFC IT LOOKED HORRIBLE TO CORDELIA like James literally never told the woman at least once that he loved her so OFC she thought she was back to square one with him dear God above what a mess. Not his fault, but she DID set down one rule for him: don’t cheat with Grace. And yeah even tho he hasn’t properly cheated, it must FEEL horrible to her cus she’s just been enduring the pain of their unrequeted love for so long :((

See imma just say it but if Cordelia thought that James didn't love Grace then she def would have confessed to him about her feelings right but like James, on the other hand, was delaying his own romantic confession cus he was BEING EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED and I can't even say the bracelet was solely to blame cus like my boi was just being so difficult omg I believe he should be lightly spanked by his three parents aka Will, Tessa and Jem *cries*.

Cordelia is such a MOM like she's so mature and stable and her self-preservation instinct? OFF THE CHARTS I love this woman like James definitely treated her well as a hubby but like I JUST WANTED HER TO HAVE CLOSURE ABOUT SOMETHING and boy oh boy she did get that closure she got it good but not from the person she expected in the LEAST *hehe* *pelican screeching*... like Lucie was being sus with the whole ghost business and James was being just, quite a case, dealing with Grace and Belial right and I don't blame them at all for their secrecy and shit but her FATHER DIED and her friends were hiding a lot from her so in a way she turned to Alistair for help but he could only do so much cus of his own pain (she couldn't even talk to her mom cus she's pregnant and she doesn't wanna stress her right) and then there was this emotional block between her and Jamie, Lucie was often absent and conspiring with the dead... the last person remaining was HIM (imma discuss this soon), but yeah my heart just went OUT to her cus she's tryna save herself and her family and she just doesn't know what to do. That's why I love the way her mom told her to stop holding herself back for others and live her own life. Like Cordelia grew on me so much cus in Gold she undoubtedly was a strange Elizabeth Bennet-wallflower hybrid and I... do not usually get attached to wallflowers but in Iron I feel like I finally understood that she was just tryna be unproblematic and self-preserving all along and nottt put her family and friends in a tough situation.... she reminds me of my mom personality-wise so yeah I’m totally rooting for her now that her *situation* in the past seems clearer.

Anna, Thomas and Matthew are such a SQUAD lmfaooooo like united in their gayness they'd be so unstoppable.

Will and Tessa are the most in-love of all the in-loves in this story and I respect that so much.

I lost a year to my life every time the romance between James and Cordelia got cockblocked. Like they were MARRIED and I thought they were gonna at least sleep next to each other at least once BUT NO James couldn't take a hint omg I'm actually gonna eat my fist and sob (but in retrospect, I think this serves a bigger purpose in terms of the narrative structure i.e. the interruption of all the spicy James and Cordelia action serves a bigger purpose which I think brings me to my next section, *exhale*)

Welcome to the Matthew Fairchild Enthusiast Club (this section is me talking out loud; it makes no sense):

bitch.

LISTEN TO ME LISTEN WELL I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH IMMA SCREAM I REALLY AM GONNA SCREAM MY FIST IS LITERALLY IN MY MOUTH *BACKFLIPS OFF THE ROOF WITH LANA DEL REY PLAYING*

Okay like where to BEGIN I think the Shadowhunter boy who I'm most attracted to is Julian while the one I love the most is Will but I think I see myself in Matthew the most. Like ever since that first story where the Thieves all met at the Academy then got expelled, I think that I just KNEW Matthew was destined to be epic. Plus the whole Wilde obsession? I’m no libertine myself but I just love his chaos and passion for life.

NO CUS HE'S SO WITTY AND SWEET AND EPIC AND YET SO SECRETIVE AND DEAR GOD ABOVE AHHHHH WILL HE SURPASS JULIAN FOR ME??? Ion even know but this is just sodjsgdwsdygyegydgef

Hear me out but I said after finishing Gold last March that I wanted this book to be Matthew's healing arc right so halfway into the book when I realized that we weren't getting all that good healing arcing I was confused just cus I thought it seemed natural to address all of his alcohol issues and sadness by now. LITTLE DID I KNOW CASSIE WAS SETTING UP A WHOLE OTHER ARC WITH HIM THAT I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED WTH.

At first I thought Matthew didn't have feelings for anyone at all, and if he DID develop feelings unexpectedly, I fricking thought that maybe he's catching feelings for James, if anyone??? I mean, I did have some suspicions about Matthew from the get-go: like he's so secretive and as readers we think we know everything there is to know about him since we were all privy to the truth potion incident in his short story right BUT NO I GOT PLAYED AND I DESERVE IT SO BADDDDDD.

Listen I hadn't shipped him and Cordelia simply because I never thought it in the realm of possibility but it MAKES SENSE as a ship... think about it: he never says what he feels, he flirts with her like he does with EVERYONE, he is kind to her in the way he is with EVERYONE. Really, Matthew is shippable with everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re taken cus that’s just what his Matthewnes allows for ya feel. There is such a beautiful irony that CORDELIA herself did not see this coming. Even the little teasers and hints in Gold have only NOW started making sense to me likejhss. I just felt like the hints in book 1 did not indicate to me that Matthew really harbored real romantic feelings for Daisy. I thought he was upset that James and Cordelia were being fakes, not a developing CRUSH on the woman fgs.

Not to mention that you usually sense a ship building when the emotional connection or sexual tension between the characters is made clearer but to me their FRIENDSHIP grew right but it didn’t feel like Cordelia was thought that she liked him or he liked her so that means me and Cordelia are clowns *together* 😤

Okay I was lowkey having SUSPICIONS but I immediately shut them down right... like firstly when he took her to the White Horse in his car and she went OFF and OFF and off about how she felt free for the first time? I thought Cassie was just tryna develop Cordelia's self-liberation arc through Matthew there. Heck, I didn't even think ANYTHING of it when Matthew confession to Cordelia about the "truth potion" incident at all cus I was like they're FRIENDS??? BUT now it's adding up now...

See when they were at the inn place and he was telling her that she doesn't in the least seem like a 100 year-old married woman? I was like hmmmm he's so sweet but why did Cassie phrase it like that like??? When Cordelia later reiterated that she thought Matthew's flirting was “meaningless”?? I was like hmmm kinda SUS tho. And then when he and James had their fight over the way Jamie kissed Grace like again I thought he was just like? ion know? mad at James for it but I didn't think he was in LOVE with Cordelia??? So I immediately put aside my slight suspicions. The probability that he had a crush on James at that point seemed more likely to me.

BUT THEN it started hitting me that every time Matthew drank, even before he explained his issue with the truth potion, that Cordelia would note it, she would worry about him, she would think of her father which seemed so poetic to me, history repeating itself and all that but this time you can FIX it??? Yeah, but again I didn't think the L WORD would be involved man???

Now imma sound like a delulu shipper here but it just makes sense they would develop feelings logically- reason being that it definitely is possible based on the way Cassie set up the story, like there's a combination of little “friend things” that can turn this into a proper ship: Matthew rescues Cordelia in the ballroom when Grace captures James' attention in Gold. Cordelia sees her father in Matthew all the time but knows now she has a chance to be there for him in the way she couldn't have been there for Elias (classic “history repeats itself” trope, she doesn't want Matthew drinking in Paris like dhshghdfhdhch). Cordelia tastes freedom for the first time when driving with Matthew. Matthew caught James and Cordelia making out in the room and was pissed but not even HE properly knew why then??? Umm, when she thinks James is forreal cheating with Grace on her she subconsciously goes to Matthew??? I also found it funny just how every intimate marital moment between her and James got interrupted somehow. Like, it's as if the narrative is just a living force REFUSING to let James and Cordelia as a ship be consecrated. Heck, every time Matthew is scantily clothed Cordelia notes it. LITTLE CRUMBS I TELL YOU LITTLE CRUMBS.

I tell you when Cordelia showed up to Matthew's flat I thought they were gonna f*ck as friends but I got SOMETHING EVEN BETTER SOMEHOW

THEY ARE GOING TO PARIS LA BELLE EPOQUE PARIS THE PARIS OF DREAMS AND ART LIKE??? FRICKKKKK I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AT ALLLL MAN? I deadass thought the story would be restrained to the UK but like it MAKES SENSE the trope subversion MAKES SENSE.

“In Paris, with you, I will not need to forget.” SHITTRGEGGGDG

BUT CORDELIA LOVES JAMES TOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY THAT... where are we GOING with this like Matthew wouldn't lie about his feelings and yet Cassie wouldn't give us Matthew and Cordelia crumbs to only end it in the next book immediately for her to just ditch him for James. I mean she was clearly holding back on fleshing out James and Cordelia as a ship for this but to WHAT END??? Daisy feels wild and free with Matthew and she feels warm at home warm with James. I can’t advocate for the sinking of ANY ship here.

Imma say what we're all thinking: Is she gonna give us a Will x Jem x Tessa type situation where Cordelia gets both of them cus I'm not strong enough for this but I also think it'd be really funny if James gets a surprise bi awakening in the next books and then we get POLY even tho this would never happen, it’s actually impossible, because of the whole parabatai thing.

Listen I ship Cordelia and Matthew much more than Cordelia and James, not that I dislike James in any way tho. It's just: Matthew is so unrestrained and she's so composed. They seem like an unlikely pair so it makes sense that they hit harder for me. James and Cordelia have such similar personalities but I ALSO don't ship James with Grace at all so like?? Poly would be... ideal... but it can’t happen especially cus they are fricking parabatai... a Will-Jem-Tessa situation seems more likely but mannnn ion know what to expect. I just want FAIRSTAIRS to have their moment in Paris. I mean James and Matthew clearly don't abhor each other for this.

Take everything I say with several grains of salt, take everything I say with the whole Dead Sea actually, cus I damn well know that Matthew is so flirty and whatnot that I’d have shipped him with anyone in their little circle but now that she set him up with Cordelia it all feels so right?? I have wanted this man in a good relationship since he walked onto the page in Nothing But Shadows so-

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I can't believe Cassia duped me like this omg, Matthew is gonna have his healing arc in Paris with Cordelia by his side like- THIS IS ALL I HAVE WANTED AND SO MUCH MORE. Question to yall btw: are you all as surpised at Fairstairs as me or did yall see it coming all along like smart people? Am I a lone clown? 🥺

BRUH okay criticisms of CC?:

Lmfao a part of me feels like I GOTTA say something bad about CC or the book but honestly I have no objective complaints about it as of now. Am I saying that it’s the PEAK of Young Adult literature and Urban Fantasy? I mean, I make no such claims tbh. I’m not here to be critical when I read as a hobby and when CC’s writing makes me happy regardless of how flawed some people see it.

Okay what next?

So like I’m excited for the adult high fantasy she’s releasing in the fall and whatever other works she might be releasing outside of Chain of Gold within the Chronicles.

As for TLH itself? Man I’m just VIBING like I suspect I will reread Chain of Iron soon and maybe one of the anthologies just because I am happy that this series actually happened after me waiting like 6 years for it when it was just a concept: a Dickensian retelling filled with poetry and culture and history and the conventions I so loved in TID at age 12. This is all I been wanting tbh. I’m just enjoying watching this series come to fruition for it to inspire and transform me in some way. I feel like in a way my coming-of-age aligns with that of these specific characters yet I ALSO feel like I raised Jamie since infancy. Wack.

MATTHEW AND CORDELIA IN FRANCE LA BELLE EPOQUE TO BE EXACT IMMA CRY I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AND AHHHHHH. ALSO WILL AND JAMIE GOING TO CORNWALL TO GET LUCIE AND MAYBE BOND I LOVE WILL. HE WAS ONE OF MY DILF AWAKENINGS AT AGE 12 AND NOW HE’S HERE AGAIN IMMA CRY. I WANNA SEE MATTHEW GET HAPPY. AHHH.

Ending with a fun quote: “In the wise words of someone or other, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Maurice.” 😉

38 notes · View notes

frogtanii · 3 years

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It’s wind anon. I know I should react to the Kenma part, but I just went through the update, saw Meiko’s portion and I have feelings that I need to get out because I’m so far gone right now—

I swear, I can break down every single text what the flip is this BS. Meiko, dear, do you,,,have a concussion. Are you thinking. What,,, this is like the time you were underdressed at the restaurant and you ended up getting drunk as heck.

Okay, let’s do the breakdown.

Coming in hot, we see Meiko with “tooru!!!!!!” (Yes, I did count the number of exclamation marks) firstly, the usage of his first name after ‘exiled’ where she raged at him and used Oikawa instead... mood swing much because I cannot believe the audacity of this... and really. First name basis. Trying to be close and to get rid of animosity, but not offering up anything like “hey, I’d appreciate talking to you for a sec if you’re free?” Or an apology for blowing up at him because he did indeed have your back, it’s just that you were the one problem. But yes, the exclamation marks too. A bit childish, obvious excitement...mmmm, I’ll move on to the next section.

Oikawa’s “oh. hey meiko” shows that he really ain’t up for this. First is the obvious low energy. I don’t want to go into depth about that but the “oh” shows that he paused. He saw her message. He answered. And he didn’t expect her to talk to him. Especially with that sort of energy. Mixed feelings towards her. And his “hey meiko”. I would say he is one of the more energetic of the House. He probably would’ve done something like “meiko!!! <3” in response before or something like that. He’s a bit flashy in that regard. But no punctuation. Just a downtrodden “hey” in response.

“don’t sound so enthused” she says. I mean, at the very least it seems she understands and can grasp tone from messages? But I am like “it would be more surprising for him to be enthused? I’m in awe of how you were able to become so enthused after you got yourself crushed into pieces by YN...” Besides that, even if Meiko wasn’t physically hurt, a confrontation of this sort would not lead to anyone having a happy mood? Me glancing between Meiko and all the therapists that were mentioned before because I really hope that we can figure something out because she gives off so many different vibes I am like... “what even goes on inside her brain...”

“can you blame me? you yelled at me the last time i talked to you” and this is the truth. He shouldn’t be enthused. You yelled at him, you disregarded his concern and you showed that you didn’t care for him as a person. Even if there was a circumstance where she didn’t yell at Oikawa, he would reach out first and be concerned about her health. Meiko has no grounds to try and blame him for anything right now. Frankly, I don’t think Oikawa should have even bothered answering her because I don’t think he is in the best place emotionally to deal with her.

“im so sorry sweetheart!!!! i didn’t mean it :(” lemme just day, wind anon cannot believe the BS that this message is. First, she says she is sorry. But really? Really. I can’t even look at her. Look, I don’t know what it is but “I’m so sorry.” Has the weakest apology energy. “I’m sorry.” Fine, decent, the classic and simplest. “I’m really sorry.” Also good! Shows regret. “I’m so sorry.” Sounds like you when you just learn that a person’s family member has passed away. There is something about “I’m so sorry” that doesn’t sound sincere to me and it’s infuriating. Next, the “sweetheart” I might’ve gagged a bit internally. Does she,,, talk like that? Normally? Is that a thing? She’s younger than him...and I don’t know but sweetheart sounds so condescending I literally can’t even— and finally, the “I didn’t mean it” yeah, well, you don’t mean anything because everything you say is BS that’s what you mean. Stop excusing your behavior. There is no merit behind it.

“you know i was just beat up and i couldn’t control what i was saying”. Okay, let’s break this down too. First, trying to incur sympathy by the “I was just beat up.” I cannot believe this gal. And the “you know” for a reference to a person’s knowledge of the matter, it lets them be more susceptible to beliefs. But the “I couldn’t control what I was saying” is complete utter hogwash. I mean, Meiko can’t control any bit of her because she is just impulse. But she excused her inability to control herself by saying it was because she was just beat up.

I don’t know what to say for the next portion. Alone, it’s cute, but put into perspective it’s just manipulation and she doesn’t love him. I’ll just move on.

“what do you need that you can’t ask iwa-chan?” Okay, so he didn’t reciprocate with an “I love you too” so that just shows what type of mood and how effective her words were. It also shows that she always messaged Oikawa when she needed something, because he caught on super quick to that. The “Iwa-chan” is interesting though. I wanna know if Oikawa talks to Iwaizumi after this conversation with Meiko because she is clearly going behind his back right now.

“oh well hajime is being very rude rn. he won’t let me leave my room!!!!” Okay, he had best interests at heart and Meiko...I know every single one of your rooms has a bathroom too. They’re bringing you food. They are letting people go into your room. Meiko, you wouldn’t have lasted quarantine if you’re this petulant now. It’s literally going to be like, 3 days max if you work to get an actual solution. I don’t want to break this down, I feel this is self explanatory. She feels entitled still.

“i know, it’s for your own good” he replies, and that is true but I am also of the belief that it is (hopefully) better for the rest of the house to not be in contact with her so I guess that’s that. Anyway, this shows Oikawa placating her, next

Meiko...being...not pretty. “ugh!!! but i wanna go out!!!!!!” Yeah, she would not have been able to be safe throughout the pandemic. Please,,, you’ll have fresh air if you open up a window,,, I know for certain you don’t exercise,,, please Meiko, shut up already you are making yourself look like more of a pile of garbage than you depict yourself as please I cannot handle the idea that the guys fell for this act—

“you have a black eye babe” okay, the black eye is actually Tooru trying to refer to knowledge that she has. As in, she should be trying to rest and get better right now. (Just curious, who treated her? For the injuries? She raged at Iwaizumi and Oikawa so maybe Daichi?) the babe gives off the placating vibe to me, still low energy, not very affectionate, but it’s there so I’m like “hm”.

“so??? omg are you calling me ugly tooru???????” Well...he didn’t call you ugly. But I might? Because you have the ugliest personality of everyone here. But also, shifting blame onto him. Gosh, I give Oikawa some water. He’ll get a migraine from this.

“of course not. i would never”. Low energy, not elaborating, I think he sees that she is trying to manipulate him, or at the very least he isn’t going to play that particular game. But actually, he runs a fashion channel on YouTube. We know Bokuto runs a fitness one and his header message was something along the lines of everyone’s bodies are beautiful, so chances are Oikawa has the same sort of idea for his channel too. He may criticize fashion, but he would never criticize the people wearing it or the people who made it in a mean way. He would be respectful, and he lets people do what they wish because it’s their choice. I mean, there has to be a reason why Meiko’s fashion is how it is—he doesn’t intrude on matters that aren’t his to intrude upon.

Okay, Meiko. I’m gonna stop trying to format the messages exactly how they are, autocorrect is making my time with them a bit too much, but she says she wants him to take her with him. Okay, starting off, you are really under the belief that he will take you on to a trip he has planned when he didn’t invite you in the first place? Pushy... but yes, her petulance again... me flicking water at her, “you got super drunk because you were underdressed at a fancy restaurant and now you have a face that looks like roadkill, how much do you want to embarrass yourself before you get turned into a pariah?”

Oikawa not knowing how she knows that is clear concern. Someone knowing your schedule when it’s none of their business and not public knowledge is major red flag. The “uh” shows that he is clearly taken aback. The ellipses shows that he doesn’t know what to think.

Okay, Meiko—she is actually able to notice something??? Good golly gee, I am baffled by how she did that when everything else she does is on fire. But the consistency probably gave it in. She may have been looking for him at one point, noticed he was out, and saw the pattern then. But actually, wouldn’t she be good at noticing the patterns of the guys so that she always knows which one to go to and use? Thoughts.... but I’m curious about the fact she said the “same group of absolute losers”. I highly doubt they always go and meet up directly in eye view of the house? Chances are they meet up at a bar or something? This potentially could be a thing where Meiko was stalking them? It would be interesting if she saw them while she was out as well—and if yahaba and kyoutani noticed her around before too. Also, her saying “you ain’t slick” like,,, Meiko, have you looked into a mirror. Can you see.

Oikawa defending his friends, we stan. Let’s move on though: “they’re so much younger than you?? and yahaba is def not cute lmao” me, doing like the... monkey meme where they look away because I am just like??? Meiko, you’re younger than Oikawa. I bet Yahaba and Kyoutani are your age. And anyone younger than you is a loser huh? That’s why you look at Bokuto and YN like they are dirt beneath your feet. (And Yes, I do remember that you put Bokuto and YN as the babies of the house, this reoccurrence is very well done). And she went and insulted Yahaba directly like...you’re talking to his friend? What are you doing? Excuse me? I beg your pardon?

And the ellipses strike again— and Oikawa is fishing for information because we have seen him—he listens to logic. And Meiko... her emojis... wind anon be flicking more water at her, she is too much. Also. Kyoutani. She is calling Kyoutani cute. This was the message that made wind anon start this long analysis. Kyoutani, cute? Listen. Kyoutani would take one look at this parasite hanging off his arm with her swollen black eye that was slathered with makeup and her lacking clothing sense, before looking at Oikawa who would be so haggard by then, and then Kyoutani would force her off his arm before grabbing Oikawa and running off with Yahaba following them. There is no way at all Kyoutani would involve himself with Meiko. I refuse to believe he would go for her.

Okay, the two messages after about wingmanning—I don’t want to do a large scale analysis of it. Oikawa really is shown to have good sense for Meiko’s intentions. His intuition is good. And we know that he cares and respects his friends and he focuses on their capabilities. He knows them. Meiko is just...childish in the worst of ways.

“You don’t see the issue with this”. Oikawa really digging in his feet. First, he wished to be in a relationship with Meiko. And here she is, asking for him to wingman to get her together with one of his friends, who may not even like her—and I bet that if it doesn’t go well, she would blame Oikawa for it like really—but I give Oikawa more water for the migraines Meiko induces.

“What?? It’s not like we’re actually together lol”. The laugh out loud at the end really shows how much of a joke she sees this as. She sees him as a joke. And she just crushed all his efforts and actions to try and get into a relationship. And actually...will Meiko ever get into a relationship with another? She has no loyalty. She definitely wouldn’t have ever got into a dedicated relationship with one of the guys. And she would be the type to get upset if they slept around, wouldn’t she? A hypocrite.

“Ugh don’t be like that!!! I’m sure you sleep around too!!” Okay, she is trying to defend herself while also potentially blaming him if he does. It’s just manipulation...I’m gonna move on...

Oikawa’s just done and his “I don’t” holds a lot of emotion. But Meiko’s response back I don’t believe at all. “Oh well that’s your fault, I don’t really give a sh*t if you sleep around hehe!!!” First, blaming him for his choice of only choosing you??? And I highly doubt the second part because she is shown to throw blame and ditch people for negligible reasons—I have no trust towards her words. I do not believe her. I believe she would care. I believe she would blow up at the guy before leaving him.

“Of course you don’t” And there is the utter doneness. He has given up on Meiko in this message. He doesn’t care anymore. He was already not in the mood for her when she first messaged him, he doesn’t want to see her at all anymore. He’s given up.

“So you get it!! Perfect!!!!” Please, wind anon has written so much already, her eyes are sweating everytime she has to look at Meiko being like this hhhhh. “I’ll be ready at like 9pm? Come by my room!! Actually no I’ll come by yours” and her usage of emoji. Get her away from me and everyone in PF. She’s toxic. Send her off with hazardous waste. Also, she deliberately changed from her room to coming by his. She is cutting off him so he has to go with her, he can’t just sneak out and not wait at her room (though she did offer a time so he could just go out now and ditch her presence completely). But it would be amusing if he did something like lock his door, (either after he’d go out or if he wold leave through window) and she would just be there waiting all decked out in her clothes and makeup pounding on his door. He wouldn’t answer and the others would see her out of her room (a misdemeanor). And then she would have to make an excuse. But it would be hard...because Oikawa has text evidence of Meiko going against Iwaizumi to just play like this.

“And if I say no?” Says Oikawa, who is testing the waters—very smart. We approve. “You won’t.” She replies, because she is terrible and we hate her controlling, manipulative, abusive self and we would all fight her. And she ends it off with a “great!! see you then!” Because she has to have her way and the last say.

Okay, wind anon is done

Completely. Utterly done with the analysis and reaction for that. Might not get to Kenma and YN analysis because I went off in this one but just know I appreciate it and I’ll try to get to it—just,,,not today.

I hope Oikawa sends these screenshots to like, Iwaizumi at the very least but it would be even better if he just drops it in a group chat with Daichi and Osamu instead and asks them to keep an eye on her for “her own safety” and ask her to stay in her room. She’s too daring and if she blows up on him after, he will receive more evidence of her being terrible. And of course, he’s smart. He’ll definitely block her number when he doesn’t want to bother with her anymore. Okay, wind anon is ending here. The ask is too long. I think it’s the longest ask I’ve ever sent. I wish you well fr0ggy. I hope your sleep is pleasant and you wake up very rested and refreshed!

WOO LONG POST!!!! i cannot nearly respond to all this!!!! but!!!! i am in Awe??? text by text???? i love this????? ur so amazing i <3 u

#j’s asks #anons babey #℗ poker face #wind anon

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omniswords · 3 years

Text

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 16

oh gosh, i'm so sorry for the late update!! i promise i'm still working on this, little by little. i am on vacation next week, so maybe i'll get the chance to really put some work in.

in any case, enjoy today's update c:

okay, so who the hell was gonna tell me that CBG’s designed a whole-ass album cover for my favorite artist of all time?

scratch that. who was gonna tell me she designed my FAVORITE album cover for my FAVORITE artist of all time?

Bubbles, as it turns out, has known Marinette Dupain-Cheng since he was four years old. Went to school with her and everything. So that’s another scoop to the shit Luka’s landed himself in. He still isn’t sure what gave him greater whiplash: finding out about that connection, or finding her name in the fine print of Jagged stone’s album credits. He also isn’t sure whether it’s a good thing that Nino mentions little else, and especially dodges the question of if it’s even cool to actually admit to having a gigantic crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, or whether he’s just wasting his time.

Cool.

Cool, cool, cool.

(Luka is most definitely not cool.)

Especially for those freeze-frames of time that he wonders, to his own horror, if Bubbles has been Adrien Agreste all this time.

It takes him the better part of an hour of pacing and fidgeting with his guitar pick to realize that no, he hasn’t been casually messaging a fashion mogul’s son who also just so happened to be Marinette’s own gigantic crush. He doesn’t seem like the type to use “dude” in everyday conversation, and for another thing, it didn't exactly like up with what Marinette had said about them knowing each other in middle school.

One day, Luka swears, he’s going to take this anxiety thing out back and have it meet its maker.

Even if, maybe, he sort of is its maker.

(Okay, maybe he's going to take his brain out back, because he's definitely not responsible for that.)

But he figures, once that initial panic and urge to scream into his pillow wear off, that it might be a cool talking point between him and Marinette. One that, for once, doesn’t have much to do with either of their jobs. Or with how tongue-tied he gets around her because she just won’t stop being so pretty. Not that that’s a problem; both his sister and his mother would have his head for ever thinking that way, and even then, Rose would tell them to get in line. Something about how they didn’t raise him this way, even if two of them didn’t even raise him at all.

Luka waits a couple of days before stopping by the bakery again; it gives them both some breathing room and the time for those postcards to be finished and printed. He thinks about it a lot. The postcards. The effort. Marinette, too, but in his quietly flustered opinion, he thinks that’s a given. He doesn’t get the chance to come until close to closing time again because of his delivery shift; he just hopes they don’t mind too much. He braces himself the whole ride over for whatever may be coming: another friendly crack about napoleons and pear tarts, the beauty of the postcards, maybe even another offer of kindness if Marinette’s pattern is anything to go by.

The one thing Luka doesn’t brace himself for—which, of course, is the one thing that ends up happening—is the door propped open, and the music drifting out through the crack. And he can’t even revel in the fact that it’s one of his favorite songs playing, because…

Because Marinette is dancing. Rag in one hand, spray bottle in the other. No, it’s not like, a flawlessly choreographed routine or anything. It’s more like a mix of what Rose does during their down time when she has too much energy and nowhere to put it, and what Juleka does when she’s trying to find the rhythm of a new song. It’s blissfully unaware, and beautiful, and it feels like home, and Luka can’t stop staring.

He doesn’t mean to. He knows he shouldn’t. It’s just… he can’t remember ever seeing a moment when she was simply “Marinette, “instead of “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Friend to Practically Everybody.” or “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Daughter of the Owners of The Best Bakery In Paris.” or even “Marinette, the Girl Behind the Counter with the Sketchbook Full of Secrets and the connections to Jagged Fucking Stone.”

Okay, maybe he’s been watching a couple too many fantasy movies lately.

And he definitely needs to look away, like, right now, because she does this thing with her hips that makes his brain forget how to function for a second, and he needs his brain to function in every sense of the phrase, and God fucking damn it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is hot and he’s not supposed to think that she’s hot—

And she’s looking at him. Frozen. right as he’s about to get off his bike and knock.

And, like the total idiot he can only manage to be at the worst possible times, he trips. Over his bike. And faceplants, right in front of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

He’s somewhere between waiting for death to take him, and thanking his Ma for always getting on him about wearing a helmet, and wondering if he really was so stupid that his first instinct was to run, when the bell over the bakery door rings like mad. Someone cries out his name, and the music cuts, and there’s a skitter of footsteps on concrete. When he comes to himself and starts to sit up, he finds himself face-to-face with Marinette, who's kneeling beside him and already scanning him for any injuries.

The first thing she says, with her hand in her hair, is, “Oh, God. She’s gonna kill me.”

The first thing he says, with a wince, is, “Yikes.”

It’s then that the pain sinks in, dull and searing and throbbing all at once, as if punishing him for choosing to say that, of all things. He sits up a bit more, pain chasing up his spine and stinging his palms; his knee is badly scraped and starting to swell, he realizes once he gets a good look at the rest of him. He can’t tell yet, whether Juleka would call this karma or kismet. All he can think is that at least his jeans were already ripped.

“Can…” Marinette swallows hard, but otherwise she’s entirely unfazed. “Can you stand? Put weight on it? Oh God, oh my God, she’s actually gonna kill me.”

“I…” Cautiously, Luka tries to get to his feet, and Marinette makes space for him. All it takes is one step for a jolt of pain to shoot up his leg, and he staggers and clutches the closest streetlamp, nearly tripping over his bike again in the process. “Shit,” is all he can bite out after drawing his breath in through his teeth and holding onto it for too long. He lets it out, little by little, and his grip on the lamppost loosens. “It’s okay, I’m—I can just walk my bike to the metro station, and—”

It’s like she isn’t even listening to him; she’s looking around the bike, evidently searching for something. Finally, she finds it—his bike lock—and after it and the bakery door are secure, she coaxes his arm around her shoulder. It’s almost comical, because he’s got a good thirty centimeters on her, but it hurts too much to laugh. Or, apparently, to stammer in protest when she leads him through the side door and up the stairs to her apartment.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. Seeing her in her pajamas was enough of an invasion of her privacy. But seeing the inside of her literal, actual home? Oh, no. No way.

“You’re hurt,” she says simply, as if she’s read his mind; her voice is trembling, the way voices do when they know they shouldn’t. “It’d be against like, everything I am as a person if I just let you leave.” She only lets go of him to unlock the door, and only then does it occur to him that, for a few moments that should have been blissful, they were side-by-side, and in some places skin-to-skin.

Mr. Dupain gives them a funny, almost unreadable look when Marinette opens the door. One look at Luka’s leg seems to answer any questions he might have had, and effortlessly he helps Luka to the couch while Marinette disappears into the bathroom. “You know,” he jokes under his breath, “When I imagined someone falling for my daughter, I didn’t mean literally.”

Luka’s face goes hot. “I didn’t—I’m not—”

Whatever he wants to say falls on deaf ears, and Mr. Dupain makes himself scarce as soon as Marinette emerges from the bathroom. Even as she lifts his leg onto the coffee table, Luka swears he can feel those kind, quietly insistent eyes burning holes into him all the way from the kitchen. He doesn’t get to think much more about what Mr. Dupain might have meant, or what he would have said to refute it, because Marinette is pressing an alcohol pad to the scrapes, and it stings like a motherfucker—which is probably a good thing for more reasons than one.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says weakly, because somewhere along the way, I don’t deserve it got stuck in his throat and refused to come out.

Marinette gives him a look. He can’t quite figure out what it means. “Yeah. I do.”

“Nah.” He readjusts, braces himself for the second sting of the ointment and the bandages. “I kinda deserved it. Jules would call it karma, I guess.”

There she goes again, wincing at the mere mention of Juleka. Or maybe… maybe it’s something else. Without a word, she gets up and disappears into the kitchen, and he spends her whole absence wondering what he said or did. He’s only relieved when she returns with a bag of frozen corn and a shrug as if to say, It’s all we had. She presses the bag to his knee, breathing deep in time with him, or maybe in hopes that his breathing will start to match hers. Then she speaks, and her voice wavers.

“Why would you ever think,” she murmurs, “that you deserve any pain?”

Luka opens his mouth. Shuts it. Opens and shuts again. This time, at least for a while, the words don’t even make it to his throat. Eventually, all he can spit out is, “I was. Watching. You.”

“I know,” Marinette says, turning as pink as her shorts. “I saw.”

That’s the one thing he can appreciate: she doesn’t try to downplay it or say it was dumb. Even now, she’s unapologetic, and direct, and God, maybe he’s just fallen a little more. “I shouldn’t have,” he says. “I was gonna knock, I was…” He shifts again, his knee still in her gentle grasp, and flinches. “I just… wanted to see your postcards.”

I just wanted to see you.

“Marinette.” His lips tingle just from saying her name, and his stomach is churning. “Who… who’s gonna kill you?”

This time, Marinette goes scarlet; it would look about as pretty as literally every other color and pattern she wears if she didn’t seem so… mortified. “I’ll go get one of—the postcards,” she says—stammers, more like—and as she’s heading upstairs she calls out, “Papa, he can’t walk. Can we drive him home?”

From the kitchen, Mr. Dupain winks.

1 Photo Attached

RIP lol

and no, i’m not talking about my jeans. those were already like that.

but also. 😬 oh boy.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #oh my dude we are in for it now.

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lettrespromises · 4 years

Text

KUROO, AKAASHI AND ATSUMU - TAKE MY HEART WITH YOU.

@luveranime wrote : ❝ Heyyy! Could you do one where kuroo and akaashi and atsumu are leaving to another country for volleyball purposes and they have to say goodbye to their s/o?🥺🥺 ❞ A.N : ❝ Dear reader, this is my first request and i’m nervous as heck, i’m trying really hard not to scream right now. anywhoopsie! i tried to make these both sad and fluffy because all my posts are kind of angsty and i don’t want to be pinned as a heartbreaker. i had so much fun writing this so thank you so much for requesting, sending lots of love and kisses your way! mwah! Sincerely yours, Nikki ❞ Genre: Kinda sad, kinda fluffy. Warnings: Bits of crying, mentions of sex but no actual smut (post time-skip for Atsumu).

Kuroo is the type of person who gets emotionally attached slowly, but once he’s attached to you, there’s no going back. His passion is unmatched (yes I may be writing this because he’s a scorpio and so am I), meaning that he will pour every ounce of love he possesses into your relationship.

He loves hard and will always put you before anything else. As a matter of fact, you were the one who had to force him to go abroad to study new volleyball techniques and come back as a better, more experienced player.

It took forever to convince him though. He felt guilty for leaving you behind and as stated before, you come before anything else, including volleyball. (Lucky you, he’s putting his first love after you.)

As much as he is excited to meet new players, learn new ways to be a more efficient middleblocker and discover a new country, his excitation counterbalances with the thought of leaving you. He’s both looking forward and dreading leaving Japan, and you in the process.

The latter causes him to lack slumber, he has terrible insomnias because his emotions are tearing him apart. Thankfully, you’re here to whisper sweet nothings to him and secure him in your embrace to make him fall back asleep (although, the few nights leading to his departure often result in him squeezing the life out of you when you’re sleeping, send help.)

The atmosphere of the ride to the airport is very close to pure denial. You’re both singing until ripping your vocal cords, his palm has found a permanent place upon your thigh, sometimes he squeezes your flesh to print this sensation into his head because deep down he knows this is the last time he gets to see you and touch you before a long time.

At the airport, you’re the kind of cliché couple to melt into each other’s embrace amidst comforting silence. You both feel like you’re all alone in the airport, like there’s nobody else there.

Your hands grip his Nekoma jacket hard, as if your life was depending on it, but after all, you just needed to keep this feeling with you at all costs- the feeling of your boyfriend’s toned arms around your waist, squeezing you like there’s no tomorrow while you keep your eyes shut.

Kuroo, on the other one hand, runs his digits through your hair in a comforting manner and delivers occasional pecks on the crown of your hair.

However, you both know it’s time (although you might have been trying to purposefully make Kuroo miss his flight), which results in Kuroo saying “Kitten, I know it’s hard but I have to go now.”, cue your cute self looking at him with pleading eyes. “Don’t give me this look, baby, I hate this as much as you do.”

He envelops your cheeks with both of his gigantic palms and presses one final kiss upon your lips, it’s everything you wanted and represented Kuroo so well- passionate, caring, both soft and rough on the edges. His thumbs wipe away the tears crashing down on your cheeks, once he pulls away due to the lack of oxygen, he doesn’t miss to slap your butt because... Kuroo...

Upon leaving, he puts his Nekoma jacket upon your shoulders while flashing you his toothiest smile : “I’ve always thought you rocked it better than me, kitten.”

As he makes his way to the main hall, he looks back at you and mouths a very touching “I love you, I’ll be back to you soon.” and blows a kiss your way, you stare at him and squeeze his jacket against your chest, at least you have a new cuddle buddy as a replacement.

Ahh, Akaashi, or as I like to call him: agASHEHHHH.

It’s safe to say that he is the polar opposite of Kuroo regarding display of affection. Love with Akaashi echoes to comfortable silence, but that certainly does not mean he wouldn’t get the moon for you if you asked.

Akaashi becomes unconsciously a bit more distant and a bit more silent the week leading up to his departure. He thinks that gradually separating himself from you will hurt you less once he’s gone, he just wants his absence to cause you as little pain as possible.

You, on the other one hand, get quite frustrated with this semi-silent treatment. He doesn’t come at your place as often, he cuts the conversations short and says he’s too busy with Bokuto-san to hang out with you.

The truth of the matter is, he’s hurting so much from the inside, and this idea of his is just eating him alive. It eats him alive because you’re away, and he’s the one blocking you off. He absolutely hates the way he’s acting.

Hence why, the day before of his departure, he crashes at your place with takeout, a bouquet of everlasting flowers and all the good stuff to have the perfect movie night.

Needless to say, you’re shocked once you see him and all these things he brought specifically for you. He takes time to carefully explain why he chose to bring you all of this: he ordered this peculiar takeout because it’s your favorite, he got you this bouquet of everlasting flowers so you can have a permanent proof of his love for you and the full ‘movie night’ equipment to light up the mood of this fatidical night.

Although he doesn’t really initiate any kind of affectionate touches, this night is the total opposite- he delivers pecks everywhere on your face, envelops you safely into his embrace, plays with your hair while you’re watching the movie and whispers a few “I love you so much.” in the crook of your neck.

Eventually, you both fall asleep and he carries you bridal style to your bed where you both spend the night together, comforted by each other’s embrace.

Akaashi insisted on going to the airport alone, the will to cause you as little as possible still embedded in his brain. Thus, he leaves you while you’re sleeping and admires you one last time before delivering a sweet peck on your forehead and whispers “I’ll be back before you can say it, dove.”

Once you wake up, you pat the other half of your bed only to realize you’re alone and Akaashi has already left. However, there’s a curious bag next to your bed. As you open it up, you realize it’s filled with Akaashi’s clothing and his signature smell is locked in within the fabric, there are also a bunch of neatly handwritten notes for each day he’s gonna be without you. All of them are reminders of your qualities, how much he loves you and memories of your dates with polaroid pictures.

Upon seeing all these precious things specially prepared for you, you go back to sleep, hugging his pillow close to your chest with a soft smile on your face, Akaashi’s favorite smile.

Oh well, now this is a wild one.

Dating a professional volleyball has its pros and cons, and needless to say, the biggest disadvantage of dating Atsumu is how often he needs to go abroad to play against a foreign team.

Now, of course you’re his number one fan and rightfully so and Atsumu asks you to come with him all the time but you can’t just leave your professional life aside, hence why it’s always bittersweet when he has to leave.

However, if it’s bittersweet to you, to Atsumu, it’s the best occasion to tease the hell out of you because you pout every time he brings up the fact he has to travel to another country. Cue the inevitable “Aw, is somebody gonna miss me or what?” and the obvious wink sent your way.

Teasing you is a way to make you crack a smile or laugh, which indirectly makes you forget about his trip for work or at least it makes it less painful because you’ve been laughing so much with your boyfriend. And to Atsumu, it’s the perfect way to capture a few candid pictures of your beautiful grin so he can admire them all once he’s far away from you.

Now, I hate to state the obvious but when I said that Atsumu is a wild one... I meant it. Hence why the night before his departure, he always makes sure to please you in bed and make you scream him name, because God knows when he will be able to do it again and hear such a sinful melody coming out of your mouth.

He does insist on you coming to the airport with him, and there again, he’s a wild one : Atsumu has no shame in making out with you right there, right now in the airport in front of the incredulous looks of the passengers around you.

He won’t hesitate and honestly has no shame regarding public display of affection : open mouthed kisses, trails of kisses left on your neck, a hand adventuring on your derrière, hell, even hickeys if he’s feeling like it.

Atsumu takes pride in leaving a few love bites, it’s a literal physical reminder that even though he’s not here with you, you know who you belong to. And nothing makes him smile more than imagining you staring at your reflection in the mirror once the bruises have healed up.

Nonetheless, the full make out session is broken by none other than the MSBY Black Jackal team’s obvious coughs, you know, a way to say “Hey, lovebirds, we don’t actually want to assist to the creation of a baby live in an airport and we kinda have to go.”

Both you and Atsumu know it’s time to part ways... But not before he plants a series of kisses on your plump lips and whisper a succession of “I love you so much, babygirl” or other “I’m gonna miss you so much, you have no idea”, orrrrr “You drive me crazy, baby.” and eventually the obvious “I can’t wait to make you walk weird for three days straight once I come back, princess.”

Eventually, you wave at Atsumu with a shy grin plastered upon your face, now that everything he said to you has sunk in, in return, he blows an obnoxious kiss your way.

Once he returns to the team, Kiyoomi keeps his distance, even more so than usual because, I quote, “Do you have any idea of how many bacterias are shared in a kiss, Miya? 80 millions, which gives me 80 millions to stay away from you.” cue Atsumu replying with a smirk “I don’t regret a single one of these bacterias you’re talking about, totally worth it.”

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puckinghell · 4 years

Text

The Plus One Pact | William Nylander | Part 5

Summary: Your ex is getting married, and you don’t have a date, which means the unavoidable “why don’t you have a boyfriend” question is about to haunt you for the rest of eternity. But then there’s Will, who could be the answer to all your problems. A simple business pact, no feelings involved: that won’t be hard for you, because you really don’t like him anyways. Except pacts were made to be broken… or something. Right?

Note: This is part 5. Click here for part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

When you wake up, there’s something heavy draped across your chest, and everything around you is warm.

It takes a few minutes, for everything to get back, and until you can fully open your eyes. You didn’t bother taking off your mascara – were a little preoccupied – and you’re paying for that, now.

You don’t regret anything from last night, though.

Finally, you shift so you can look beside you. You’re laying on your back and Willy is pulled up against your side, lips resting against the naked skin of your shoulder. His arm is across your body, effectively pinning you to the mattrass, as if he subconsiously tried to stop you from leaving.

He doesn’t have to worry about that.

He looks peaceful, his blond hair spread across the pillow, his eyelashes fluttered shut against his cheekbones. The rise and fall of his chest is steady with every breath he takes.

Last night comes back in flashes; lips pressed against your collarbone, your fingers curling in his hair. Your heels kicked out in the hallway, his back bumping into the wall. Cursing, laughter. His hands all over your body, with just the right amount of pressure. The way he looked like he’d never seen anything so beautiful before. The way he’d blushed when you told him that you hadn’t, either.

The question, when it was silent and dark in the room, just the sound of catching breaths.

“Stay?”

Willy’s immediate answer, unwavering and steady. “Always.”

Your alarm clock tells you it’s past 9 am, now, but you know neither of you have anything important today, so you’re more than content to press your nose against Willy’s scalp. It smells nice; familiar. He hums in response, but you don’t think he’s awake, not really.

Then, your phone buzzes.

At first, you think about ignoring it. It’s only 9am, after all, and there’s nothing that you can think of being that important. It’s probably just Zach, asking if you got home safe.

God, you’re gonna have to tell Zach what happened. He’s gonna be so smug about it; you’ll never hear the end of it.

But then your phone buzzes again, and again, and you think about Noah’s wedding. It could be your sister again, bothering you about it, or maybe your parents. Besides, the buzzing is making Willy stir, and you really don’t want to wake him up.

He’s been looking tired, the season running him down, and you’re not taking away any sleep that he could potentially get.

You carefully unwrap Willy’s arm from around you, which earns you another not-really-awake hum, this time one that sounds a little annoyed, and manage to grab your phone from your nightstand.

The words on your screen almost seem fake, but once you read them properly, you kinda feel like the room is spinning.

3 missed calls, and a text.

From: Noah Daniels

I’m outside your apartment, can you let me in?

What in the actual fricking heavens...

With surprising clarity, your brain immediately realizes that you have two options now. You can go let him in, and talk to literally the last person on earth you wanna talk to, or you can not let him in, and risk your entire family screaming at you.

Besides, you’re supposed to be at this guy’s wedding in two days. So maybe only one option, then.

Your heart is beating way too fast, but you very slowly start the task of getting yourself out of bed without waking Will. It’s hard, to leave him there, and the thought flashes through your mind what would happen if he woke up, but he looks pretty knocked out so you decide not to worry about that.

You’ve got enough to worry about.

You throw on the first clothes you can find and try to make as little noise as you can while getting out the bedroom. Will stirs a few times, but his breathing remains even.

You really hadn’t wanted the first time you saw your ex to be like this, looking like a drowned panda wearing old sweatpants and – is that Will’s shirt, you grabbed?

But you guess you’ve learned nothing ever goes the way you want it to, with Noah.

When you open your front door, you almost expect him not to be there. Surely he was kidding, or sent that text to the wrong phone number, or it was a dare.

But no. He’s there, standing with his hands in his pockets and a hint of a smile on his face. He looks the same as he did back then, which throws you a little.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says, his voice soft. “I hope it’s not inconvenient, I was just in the neighborhood.”

“Uhm,” you bring out. It’s really inconvenient, but for some reason, the words can’t pass your lips.

“Can I come in? I wanted to talk about something, I guess.”

Great, now your nerves are truly flying at an all time high. Wordlessly, you step aside, and he takes the invitation for what it is and moves through your living room like he owns it, sitting on the couch without being asked. He doesn’t take off his shoes. It unnerves you, which is stupid, because Will doesn’t take off his shoes, either, and that hasn’t bothered you.

“You look…” Noah starts, pauses. Then settles on: “Different.”

“So do you,” you say, which is a lie, but you don’t really know what else to say. You could offer him coffee, but you find yourself not wanting to, so you cross your arms and stay standing in the middle of the living room.

“What did you wanna talk about, Noah?”

Noah sighs. “Straight into it. You never had a lot of time for small talk.”

You’re not sure if it’s meant to sound offensive, but it does. Maybe everything he says sounds offensive to you, now.

How did you ever love this guy?

“Well, as you wish.” Noah’s hands are folded in his lap. The engagement ring is shiny on his finger. “I’m getting married in two days, and you’ll be at the wedding. So I just wanted to make sure there weren’t any problems.”

Something in your brain short circuits. “Problems?”

Noah sighs again. It reminds you of the way your mom used to sigh when you were a little kid and you wouldn’t put on your shoes fast enough.

“Obviously things didn’t end great between us…”

Yeah, because you cheated. You don’t say it.

“And your sister told me you had some reservations about coming.”

That bitch.

“So I just wanted to make sure you weren’t, like, still in love with me.” He says it as if the thought amuses him. But he doesn’t look like he’s joking, and a storm is brewing in your mind. “Cause I know our relationship meant a little more to you than to me, and for that, I do apologize. But I don’t think it would’ve ever gone anywhere, anyway, you know? What we had was more of like, a summer fling.”

It’s like there’s wind whistling in your ear, but there’s no windows open in your apartment.

“A summer fling?” you repeat, a little dumbfoundedly. “We were together for four years.”

“A very long summer?” Noah offers, and you can tell by the smirk on his face he thinks he’s truly being funny.

“You cheated on me.” It’s the first time, you think, you’ve ever said those words to him, but you can’t keep them in now.

Noah’s face falls. “Hardly,” he says. “I just knew immediately that Betty was the one for me. I had to act on that, you understand that, right? I told you right after.”

Still counts as cheating. You don’t say that, either. Instead, you say: “You begged me to take you back.”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

You want to laugh. How else could he remember that night?

He stood on your porch in the darkness and said: “Look, I know it was stupid, but I’m young, and I don’t know anything about anything. I just know I miss you. The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you, and I just want to make it up to you.”

You said: “Go fuck yourself”, slammed the door in his face and cried yourself to sleep for the next four months.

It’s not worth it, though, and it hits you how much you’ve changed. Because there was a time when you wouldn’t have had the strength to send him away, where this would’ve made you feel something. Frustration, sadness, anger. Hope, even.

It doesn’t, now. There’s not even the dull ache of being the one that was cheated on. There’s just indifference.

It feels like closure.

“Look, Noah,” you say, “it doesn’t really matter. There’s not gonna be any problems at your wedding, okay? I’m just there because my mom wants me to be. I’ll keep quiet.” You smile, and you’re sure it looks fake but Noah doesn’t seem to notice.

“Okay,” he says. “If you say so, I believe you.” He stands up, clearly ready to go now that his worries have been soothed, then walks to the door and you watch as his hand lands on the doorknob. At the last moment, he turns around.

“I knew you understood, back then,” he says. The smile on his face is a little too sharp and pointed to be genuine. “You’re just not really the kinda girl guys end up marrying, you know?”

You’re still staring at him with your mouth open when the front door slams behind him.

Suddenly, you hear a different voice.

“Nice guy, that.”

You turn around to find Willy leaning in the doorway to your bedroom, fully clothed now. His arms are crossed and he’s frowning.

“You invite him over?”

“What?” Now you’re frowning, too. “What the fuck, Will, of course I didn’t. He just showed up.”

An unwelcome feeling is starting to creep up your spine, tingling through your skin like the most unpleasant current.

What if Noah is right?

What if this isn’t anything special to Will, what if he’s just passing the time until something better comes along? You’ve never seen him pick up many girls but looking like that, surely he does, and you think of his cocky attitude that bothered you so much before you really knew him, think of the way he was used to everyone loving him.

What if you’re just a conquest to him, to show himself that he can still get people to love him? What if you didn’t get to know the real him, but simply walked straight into his trap?

What if none of this is real and he’s going to go run off to someone else, because you’re just not that kinda girl.

“Do you think he’s right?” you blurt out, before thinking it through.

You really should’ve thought it through.

“Do you think I’m not the kinda girl guys end up marrying?”

Will’s eyes widen, and you see his hands clench where they’re wrapped around himself. Something clicks in his jaw.

“Are you fucking serious?” he says, and he sounds upset. And angry. Really, really angry. “You really think I would be here if I did?”

You don’t answer. No, you don’t really think that. You think Will is better than that. But something inside of you is gnawing at your conscious, because if someone had asked you that question last month, you would’ve absolutely thought that.

“You do,” Will says, and he sounds like he almost can’t believe it. “You think I’m that kinda guy, still. You said you got to know me, but you still think I would be here and have sex with you and tell you all those things I told you if I didn’t mean them.”

When he says it like that, it sounds stupid, and doubt is starting to rise in your chest.

“No, Will, I didn’t mean it like…”

“But you did.” Will pushes himself away from the doorway, stalks towards his shoes and shoves his feet in. Instantly, you start to panic.

He’s leaving.

“Will, come on…”

“No.” Willy looks up, and there’s nothing but pure hurt in his eyes. It cuts like a knife, because you put that there, and you never wanted to be the reason for his hurt.

“You know what the funny thing is, Y/N? I’ve never thought anything bad of you. I liked you as soon as Zach introduced us. I thought we could be friends. But you were always so… judgmental, and you always rolled your eyes at me so I figured I shouldn’t bother, and that hurt, because I liked you even when you didn’t like me. And now you’re accusing me of thinking something so awful of you, when I only ever though the best, and when all you’ve ever done is think the worst of me.”

He’s grabbing his jacket as he talks, stalks towards the door and you know there’s nothing you can do or say to stop him, not when you’ve hurt him like this.

Willy stops at the door, like Noah did. But he’s not smiling, no sharp amusement in his eyes. Only pain. Only sorrow.

“I always liked you, and you always disliked me. For no reason at all. And now, after everything, you still don’t like me, and the worst thing is, I still like you.”

The door falls quietly into the lock behind him, nothing like the way it slammed behind Noah - everything around you shatters, anyway.

He’s not coming you text Zach.

Zach is currently at a restaurant with his entire family in law, but he still answers right away. He’s truly been your rock, the past few days, even if he did also tell you how stupid you’ve been.

You already knew that, though.

He promised, didn’t he? He’ll come.

He won’t, though, and you can’t even blame him for it. If you were Willy, you wouldn’t come to the wedding either.

You’re standing in front of the church. Your family already spotted you, tried to get you to come inside with them, but you couldn’t. Not when there was still the slightest chance, when you still had the tiniest sliver of hope that he would be there.

“I’m just waiting for someone,” you had said, and your sister had given you a look of pity.

You kinda wanted to bite her head off, except you really didn’t have the energy anymore.

The ceremony is about to begin. If Will doesn’t show up, like, right now, he’s not coming.

He’s not coming.

Against everything you knew, you’d still hoped.

Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes widen as you swirl around, but it really is who you thought you heard, her hair curled and wearing the most beautiful sundress. “Ellie? What are you doing here?”

Ellie laughs. “Your sister invited me. Said you could use some friendly faces in the crowd.” She frowns. “Aren’t you supposed to be inside? I thought I was running really late.”

“You are.” You sigh, and suddenly you feel like you could cry. You haven’t really cried, yet, refused to cry over Will when what you had was so new and uncertain. It’s not like you got dumped, for crying out loud.

If you’re never together, you can’t get dumped. So why does it feel exactly like that, then?

“Hey, what’s going on? You don’t look so good.” Ellie looks genuinely worried and that nearly pushes you over the edge; you let yourself sit down on the steps before the church.

The street is empty. The ceremony is starting, and he isn’t here.

Ellie takes her seat next to you and waits patiently for you to talk. You want to, you need someone to talk to who doesn’t know Willy like Zach does, who might not judge you the way you’re sure Zach had – although he’d hidden it well, being too good a friend to be angry with you.

It’s just hard to get the words out, is all.

“Remember Will?” you ask. Ellie smiles at the memory.

“The hot guy you brought to the last wedding we were at? That spent the entire evening shooting heart eyes at you while you ignored him? Yes, I remember.”

The guy who did what now?

I’ve liked you since Zach introduced us.

Fuck.

“Yeah, well.” You sigh. “I kinda fucked that one up.”

And so you tell her everything.

You tell her about the pressure of being single while Noah got married, how much you hate your family asking you those questions with pity in their eyes. About how Will promised to be your plus one if you were his; about the pact you made, the only rule that that was all it was.

You tell her you didn’t like Will, at first, but that’s because you didn’t understand him, and maybe, selfishly, because you knew how much you would like him, if you tried to understand him, and you were too scared to get hurt.

About how that happened, anyway; he wiggled his way into your heart with witty remarks and honest eyes, shy glances and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

About how finally, you gave in to the desire to kiss him. About how it had been magical, until Noah showed up.

How, just momentarily, you’d doubted him, because Noah’s words rang harshly in your ears and you don’t think the scars he left fully healed, no matter how many stars Will had drawn around them.

About how he immediately crawled back into his shell.

“I don’t think it’s so easy for him to let people in,” you tell her. “And he let me in and I immediately broke his trust.”

Ellie shrugs. “You were scared and hurt and you lashed out. It wasn’t a good decision, but if he likes you as much as he says he does, it won’t be the end of everything. You’ve gotta talk to him.”

“I know.” You stare at the stone of the curb in front of you. The sun makes it look strangely bright; it’s a beautiful day for a wedding. “I was scared to do that, too.”

“Yeah, but, sometimes scary things are worth it.” Ellie is looking at you, clearly trying to find something there. “Honestly, the way you’re talking about him? It sounds like he might be worth it.”

“It doesn’t matter, now.” The look on Ellie’s face tells you you sound exactly as pathetic as you think you do. “He’s not here, so he clearly wants nothing to do with me. Zach said he’d come, you know, because he promised and apparently he never breaks a promise.” You laugh, a little humorlessly. “I can’t even blame him for that, after what I said to him. But I didn’t mean it, El.”

“I know,” Ellie says softly. “But he doesn’t know that, Y/N. I’m not the person you need to be telling that to.”

You sigh. Maybe you should, but you can’t, not right now, and you don’t think it would really matter anyway.

“We should go inside, probably.”

“Yeah.” Ellie helps you up and tightly wraps her arm around your waist, like a crutch for you to lean on, and starts to lead you inside. One more time, you look behind you onto the empty street.

But there’s nobody there, so you enter the church.

He’s not coming, anyway.

#william nylander #william nylander fic #nhl fic #toronto maple leafs

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