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tounacasserole · 2 years

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um👉🏻👈🏻Can you write part 2 for argument with husband?His apologise to you?

APOLOGIZING TO YOU AFTER MAKING YOU CRY [ pt one | two ]

ft. bonten!kakucho hitto, shinichiro sano, & bonten!ran haitani x gn!reader [separate]

warnings: not proofread as per usual, hurt/comfort, finally fluff, it’s not a tounacasserole piece without some cursing, lowercase, a lot of metaphors, a lot of hyphens, you comfort shin more than he does you lmao, kind of ooc

requested by: anon!

word count: 2.6k (yes. i got carried away)

notes: ask and you shall receive dear anon! sorry this took so long i got an angst idea when writing out shin’s part but i’ll spare y’all from that. for now >:) enjoy!

KAKUCHO

—watching the rise and fall of the stars in the endless sky was more boring without company.

—on warmer nights, you and kakucho would hop on over to your balcony to gaze at the sky’s rise and fall; the slow transition, dipping to nightfall and sunrise if he woke you up early enough before you both would get ready for the day.

—his presence was always comforting under the blanket of stars as he had you lean back on him with his arms hugged around you in silence, occasionally whispering sweet nothings in the breeze or leaving kisses on the top of your head.

—you never did it alone. until now, that is. the absence of your spouse’s presence near you, touching you—made it all the more colder when the midnight cold tickles your skin. it’s as if the winds know that today is a bad day.

—with a drawn out sigh, you push back from leaning against the railing, turn on your heel, and walk back into the warmth of the penthouse.

—he hasn't noticed you when you enter the living room silently. you’d giggle at the sight of him swaddled in a blanket like a burrito on the couch but the blue light tinting his sad features licks the urge away like flame on parchment.

—you don't know how it’s possible for him to look even more tired.

—“i thought i’d find you here,” you say quietly as you approach.

—he quickly clicks off his phone at your voice; a subtle statement that he’s listening to whatever you have to say with his undivided attention as he looks up at you.

—you sit down next to him, dipping your weight into the plush cushions in a tense silence unlike the comforting one you're both used to.

—you fiddle with your hands, building up any semblance of courage to say something.

—after a short while, you break the silence.

—“i’m sorry.”

—or rather, the both of you do. you stare at each other; the first time today you’ve both actually peered into the seas of your eyes without shame, without regret, without hostility—but with a childlike glow of puppy love when you said those two words in unison.

—laughter bubbles in your throat and kakucho follows suit, filling the dark room and cutting the tension in half.

—“you’re stressed, love; i should’ve been more considerate,” you reason first, laughter dying down.

—“i know… but that’s no excuse for me to be harsh to you.” he places a tender kiss on your forehead, silently looping an arm around you and pulling you into the blanket with him. it was soft, but not as soft as him as you sink into his blissful, warm touch.

—you missed him. even if it was only for a few hours, you yearned for his touch without him by your side. a fulfilling and now comfortable silence with the occasional passive cycle of breathing the only sound in the room.

—a content sigh leaves your lips as exhaustion makes its way through your body, making your eyelids droop and melt further into the comfort of your husband.

—“i love you, kaku. you know that, right?” you ask, voice muffled and worn out from the long hours without your other half near you.

—wordlessly, kakucho pulls you closer, enveloping you fully into his arms and yours wrapping around his torso as he pets your hair.

—you rest your chin on his chest and let out a few breaths of laughter at his flustered face, looking everywhere except your eyes in the dim room. leaning up, you gently kiss his scar, tracing the pattern with your thumb and he shivers at the contact. you grin up at him when his teary eyes meet yours, full of adoration.

—“i do,” he whispers. “i love you, too. so much.”

—you are the sun—shining bright like no other in his presence, and he is your moon—the aura of his quiet but loving person entranced with your radiance always making him glow brighter.

—and even if he wasn't by your side in a certain moment, you can always feel him lingering, peeking through the stars to meet you—his own star—and intertwine your fingers together in your galaxy.

—who needs to stargaze when you're both each other's stars already?

SHINICHIRO

—it’s quiet.

—and not the good kind, either.

—usually when you click open the front door after returning from a long day of work, you would have already been greeted with a forehead kiss from your husband who refused to hug you until he took a shower because he smelled like motor oil.

—usually when you walk towards the stairs you’d hear the casual conversations between shin’s two favourite coworkers—draken and seishu—as they close up shop, ready to retire for the day.

—usually, you’d wave and exchange a few words before heading upstairs.

—but the lights are out, there’s no banter, and there's not a wiff of familiar motor oil you’d smell because shinichiro isn't there to kiss you hello.

—instead, it’s more of the overbearing cigarette smell as you approach the hall leading to the ajar back door and your heart clenches.

—shinichiro always smokes more whenever he gets stressed. he’s tried to break that habit when you both married each other, but of course, old habits will always die hard. you’re proud of him for trying, though. you always have been. so to know that he’s resorted to his old habits, to know that you’re the reason he’s gone back…

—before you know it, you make hasty, quiet steps out the back door to bend down and wrap your arms around his figure sitting turned away from you.

—“i’m sorry,” you mumble, barely audible against the familiar scented fabric pressed against your face. the lingering smell of motor oil is still there, too.

—his form ceases trembling.

—“...[name]?”

—your only response is to squeeze him tighter. with that, he bursts into a sob and you feel his shoulders tremble in your grasp.

—“shin? baby, don't cry—”

—“i’m sorry too,” he blubbers as you slink around to sit behind him and hold his face in your hands. he continues to exclaim what you think are slurred-together apologies and professions of love which mixes into incoherent blabbering.

—oh, shin.

—“ifuckedupiknowi'msosorrybabeidon'twantyoutoleaveiloveyousosomuchand—”

—“shinichiro.”

—he chokes on his words and you take this opportunity to grasp his hands in your own.

—“who said i was going to leave?” you ask, rubbing gentle circles on his knuckles.

—shin bites his lip, looking down. “i dunno, i just thought… i’m…”

—you nod, encouraging him to continue when he trails off. he takes in a shaky breath.

—“i’m not the best husband,” he whispers. “so i thought you might be getting tired of me, being with me for so damn long. i can't believe we’ve stayed together for this long and… and married each other.”

—he doesn't meet your eyes still as the crickets continue their rhythmic chirping as you chew on your words to think of what to say.

—“stars dim all the time, but that doesn't make them any less beautiful.” you grin sweetly, squeezing his hands gently. “you’re my star, shinichiro sano. i wouldn't leave you for the world because you’re my universe. we’ll work it out. we always have. wouldn't have made it this far if we didn't.”

—the stars seem to glimmer in his eyes and yours too when he peers up. you both are cheesy, awkward, lovey-dovey messes under starglow, and you wouldn't have it any other way, hand in hand.

—you always looked so pretty under the starlight and fireflies in his eyes, even before he started to court you. you were always like a bright star—a dream in his eyes, and now his dream had come true; with you sitting next to him, sharing a quaint house, sharing two rings, sharing a tight bond that no one could untie. god, he loves you.

—and…

—oh. you’re blushing.

—wait, did he really say all of that out loud? ah. now he’s blushing too.

—it takes him back—both of you awkward, pubescent teenagers giggling and exchanging lovesick glances at each other, neither of you bold enough to make an initiative move.

—if shinichiro from the future had told his past self that he would marry you, he wouldn't have believed himself.

—he can't believe it either, really. even now. it’s been one crazy joyride, and he’s glad to have you by his side to swerve through it, potholes and all.

—a wave of exhaustion sweeps over him—one of many he had experienced throughout the tiring day—but this time it’s mixed with the warmth of your soul that makes him feel comforted and at ease. at home.

—home is a feeling, not just a place.

—shinichiro buries his face in the crook of your neck as you brush your fingers through his scalp, careful not to snag at his tousled and unbrushed hair.

—but home is also a place where you two feel loved in each other’s presence, no matter how ramshackle it is with nails sticking out of the exterior or uneven wall decor.

—the most exhilarating thing about life is the way one can mold it, like sand. no matter how much it crumbles to dust, you can build it back up to make it new, make it better, because life is always a learning experience for everyone.

—no matter how much it can wash away from the tide, reassembling the foundation is only a matter of pulling your weight into snapping the scattered pieces back together.

RAN

—you don't know where you’re running to, but you know your legs can't endure much more in your fleet. they burn with the feeling that only comes from overuse, along with the stinging tears that threaten to fall once again.

—but you know why you’re running away from the lingering conflict in your head.

—because running away is always the easiest option.

—somehow, subconsciously, your legs have carried you to a familiar sight that makes your heart ache. a stone bridge, hanging over a river that flowed through the city overlooking skylines in the distance. it isn't the most beautiful view, but sometimes the experience is better than the appearance.

—where did it all go wrong?

—ran’s huffing and puffing, legs aching to the point his knees are about to give out at any moment until he spots you. he knows you. he’s spent so much time in his life with you, so only he knows where you’d go after an encounter such as the catastrophic one you both just had.

—the bridge.

—he’d met you there as he was looking on past the moon leaning his elbows against the railing, deep in melancholic thought even when the rain soaked through his suit. he’d met you, who held out an umbrella and expressed concern for him with no ounce of fear, but rather concern. for him. he’d met you, who left your umbrella with him saying that you had a spare in your car telling him, a stranger, to keep it.

—he’d met you on your impromptu first date—same place, different time—all the familiar as he leaned forward on the stone railing while you cautiously took those same small steps as you approached to retrieve your umbrella he insisted on giving back after he (somehow) got ahold of your number.

—he’d met you, after years of dating when he suddenly told you to meet him at “the spot”, he took to calling it; your footsteps turning timid as you walked towards his handsome self who smiled brighter than sunshine when he heard the familiar clack of your shoes on the pavement.

—you, who looked at him dumbfounded when he pulled out the gleaning ring as ran haitani, the love of your life, asked you those four words with that rare and vulnerable lovestruck shyness. you, who realized the one thing ran haitani had always done for you.

—he’s always the one waiting for you.

—but who waits for him? you. you do. caring, patient you. you who stayed up past midnight before promptly passing out on the couch when ran had told you he was going to be out for longer that night. you, who always patched him up any time he had gotten an injury from his line of work with such carefulness. never hostility. you spared not an ounce.

—you, who hasn't left his side once despite him being a despicable man.

—and this time, it’s you who hears the hasty footsteps approaching.

—“[name].”

—you finally look him dead in the eyes which halt him in place, barely a metre away from where you stand.

—“do you love me, ran haitani?” you question immediately, adding more edge to your voice than you would have liked.

—you can hear him hesitate, digesting every thought and hearing the gears crank in his mind to conjure up a sincere passage to say to you. your hands grip tighter on the railings, growing impatient as the only sound you’re met with is the water flowing through the canal underneath.

—“i do!” he nearly shouts, making you jump a little at his abrupt tone. “i swear, a thousand times i do. a thousand and one and even more. and i can't deny that i… i fucked up. and i hurt you.”

—“yeah. yeah, you did,” you agree meekly.

—“that's one of my promises i made to you, my love: i swore i wouldn't hurt you.” he presses a hand over his heart. “but i want to make it up to you, to see your gorgeous smile i love, to give you the whole world and then some. and i’m… i’m going to do just that. to better myself. to better us.”

—you’re on the brink of crying again, but ran brushes them away as fast as they flow with swift sweeps of his thumb, hands caressing your face.

—you lean into him, face buried in his chest as he loops his arms around you. your voice is muffled by the familiar fabric of his shirt, but ran knows exactly what you're mumbling.

—“...promise?”

—he bites on his words for a bit in tense silence and your arms around him squeeze, holding a breath.

—“i can’t promise,” he starts, “but i will make it up to you, ‘n dedicate more of my time to you one way or another.”

—he pulls you away to prop his hands firmly on your shoulders and looks you square in the eye, any glint of lazy humour that could possibly be left over replaced with seriousness.

—“i won't make any promises until you forgive me. because i know they'll be empty until then, ‘n i don't want that. i don't want to hurt you even more than i already have, angel.”

—you sniffle then nod as warmth fills your chest in a newfound comfort at his touching words. “okay. i’ll wait for you, ran haitani.”

—a gentle smile from him molded of pure and utter adoration for you is enough for one to crawl up from the corners of your mouth. he taps your nose affectionately and watches you break into a grin.

—your husband gazes at you lovingly, basking in a serene, orange glow from the sunset dimming into the horizon with a smile that could outshine the fading rays. his heart pounds twice as fast against his ribcage as if it wasn't beating quick enough already accompanied by the fluttering in his stomach. he swears he’s falling in love with you all over again.

—god, he thinks, caressing the apples of your cheeks.

—you really are an angel.

—last part of ran’s dialogue and the promise stuff was inspired by @/fuyussi’s wakasa new years post :D

—i tried so fucking hard not to turn any of these angsty at the endings please be proud

—also should i make a taglist? would anyone be interested :o

#there's been like no mouth to mouth kisses #but who needs kisses when you have words of affection #finger guns #trivia time ran's part was supposed to include reader calling rindou but i scrapped that for the sake of length skfjd #a tuna made this #gone fishing (q.)#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #kakucho x reader #shinichiro x reader #ran x reader

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slytherweasley · 3 years

Text

Petty arguments (Harry Potter x reader)

Warnings: small arguments bit of angst

Summary: You and Harry get into a small argument which turns out to be bigger than it needed to be.

You both woke up in a bad mood which was never good for anyone around you. Every little thing you did annoyed Harry and everything he did annoyed you. At the end of the day after class you two hung out cuddling in his dorm. “Can you move? My arms fallen asleep” Harry states “You don’t want to cuddle?” You question him “I don’t want my arm to fall asleep” you get off him and turn your back to him.

“Can you believe what she is saying about me? I mean she’s not stopped writing about me since I got to Hogwarts” Harry complains reading Rita Skeeter’s story about Harry in the newspaper. “I read it and it wasn’t even that bad” “Excuse me? She called me a coward, I’d like to see how she acts when she lives my life.” “She called me a fame seeking attention whore when we started dating” “She talked about you once Y/n, get over it” “It hurt! I didn’t sign up for this” “I didn’t either.”

You sit up offended, “You don’t know how that affected me” “Try that but every week” he retorts “and yet you still read it every week. If anything you’re the attention seeker!” “I don’t want any of this” “Sure you don’t.”

“You have no room to talk about my faults” Harry says “Yeah? You wanna tell me some of mine?” You question “Yeah, actually I do. First of all, you can stop being so clingy, sometimes I don’t know if you do it for the attention or you are that obsessed with me” that comment made your heart hurt, you do nothing but make sure he feels loved by you.

“I’m sorry for loving you, although sometimes I forget that you don’t know what love feels like” You felt yourself regret it but you’re stubborn enough to continue arguing. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You know what it means” “My parents loved me, I know what love feels like” “Clearly you don’t.”

You get up and walk out. You never really had arguments, petty ones happened occasionally and this seemed to be one of those times. You felt bad but decide to let him sleep on it and make up in the morning.

“Harry” you catch up to him and Ron on your way to class “Can I have a moment?” You ask him “Sure” Ron walks up ahead.

“I’m sorry Harry, I was upset yesterday” “Thanks but I don’t accept your apology, you insulted me and insinuated I don’t feel love because my parents died” “Are you serious?” He could hear you were mad “I apologised and you said no?” “Yes” “I take it back.”

Usually it is hard for you to apologise, you are quite stubborn and so is Harry but you can’t believe he didn’t accept your apology.

You told Hermione about it and made sure she would stay with you while Ron stayed with Harry. The next morning you and Hermione walk to breakfast “We are sitting with Harry and Ron, you guys can’t ignore each other forever” you groan as she leads you to them.

Harry is reading the daily prophet probably to see if he got his second story about him of the week. He knew you sat down but didn’t bother to look at you. In fact Harry hadn’t said a word to you since you tried to apologise.

“Good morning Y/n” Neville sits beside you “Hi Neville, thanks for the help with Herbology, I passed my test” “You worked really hard! Good job!” you smile unaware of Harry glaring at Neville “I’m going to go now” “No stay! We can walk to class after breakfast” “I have to go talk to Luna” he looked at you then Harry and almost ran away. After he left you you noticed how he was acting and looked over at Harry glaring at him as he walked away.

You roll your eyes “You don’t have to be an asshole” you grab your piece of toast and get up walking away. “You probably shouldn’t scare off her friends too” Hermione comments “He was hitting on her” “He was not, stop being paranoid, besides if you are really that jealous just forgive her.”

Harry really did miss you he should have accepted your apology when you gave it. He waited until the end of the day to find you in the common room doing homework. You had your hair up and your quill in your hand hovering above the page but not writing as you were quite clearly bored of homework, he stood there a million things going through his hand.

“Are you going to stare at me or come talk?” you look up at him “Sorry, you look very beautiful with your hair up, you always do but I really like it like that” you roll your eyes “Stop trying to butter me up” “Y/n I miss you so much, I’m sorry for not accepting your apology and I’m sorry for scaring Neville away and ignoring you” “Unlike you, I accept your apology and I miss you too” he presses a kiss to your lips “And I love you” he says “I know, I love you too.”

Harry takes you to his dorm, “I’m sorry for calling you clingy I actually really like when you’re around. I only said it because I was annoyed and I knew it could hurt you, so please don’t stop” “Are you sure? Because sometimes I feel like I’m always with you” “You’re the only person in my life I have that I truly love.”

You lay on his chest placing kisses on his face while he talks about everything that has happened since you stopped talking. “And Snape definitely called me out on purpose” he says, you place a kiss on his cheek and the door opens frightening you, Harry pulls you closer to him playing with your hair in a comforting way.

You turn around to see Ron and Hermione “You frightened me!” You say “What are you guys doing in here?” Harry asks “Um well, Ron and I stay in here when we want to get away from you guys” Hermione says awkwardly. “Get away from us?” Harry exclaims “We can’t stand your fighting and sometimes your couple stuff is too much” Ron explains.

“Well you’re welcome to stay in here but maybe we are a bit too much for you” “No, we will leave you, you guys can make up after all that.”

They leave the room “Am I the only one that thinks it’s weird they spend time in a room alone?” You ask “Never really noticed.”

#harry potter #hp imagine #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x gryffindor!reader

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slasherhaven · 3 years

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First question why are you so awesome? Xo second I know you wrote a request similar post with the slashers encountering people who ask " are you going to hurt me " but what about the slashers s/o who ask them are you going to hit/ stab me?

The Slashers reacting to their S/O asking “Are you going to hit me?”:

Thomas Hewitt

Arguments with Thomas are rare and he hates the thought of ever scaring you. However, now that he just needed you to leave the basement, he was starting to get a little intimidating.

He was standing in front of you, glaring down at you. Like he was trying to threaten you.

“What are you going to do, Tommy? Stab me?” It just slipped out, whether you actually felt threatened by him or if you were just being sarcastic.

It was only then that he even realised he was holding a butcher knife in his hand. He certainly hadn’t meant to threaten you like that!

His gaze drops to the blade before looking at you again, his gaze softening instantly.

No...no, of course he wasn’t going to do that. Did you really think that was something he could ever do to you?

He still makes you leave the basement and he starts to avoid you. Had he scared you? Did you really think he could hurt you? Did you think that he would hurt you? That’s exactly what he never wants you to think of him. All the more proof that he doesn’t deserve you, that he is a monster.

Even though he is avoiding you, he wants to make it up to you. He wants to apologise, even if you don’t want anything to do with him anymore.

But of course that’s not the case. You didn’t really think he was going to hurt you, you just wanted to point out how stupid he was being for attempting to intimidate you into leaving in the first place. You hadn’t meant to upset him but you knew exactly what he was thinking about himself now.

Neither of you were even remotely angry anymore, so when he attempts to apologise for the argument and for ever scaring you, you instantly accept the apology and forgive him. Promising him that you know that he’d never hurt you and that you’re sorry for even suggesting it.

He instantly accepts it when you embrace him, giving him a kiss. He loves you and you’ve assured him that you love him, that you’re not afraid of him.

He’s just going to feel bad about it for a while. With enough love and reassurance, he’ll be back to his usual self in no time.

Michael Myers

When Michael was in a bad mood, you knew it was best to leave him be but you didn’t, which is how you ended up where you were now. Having been back up into a corner with your murderous boyfriend standing inches away from you, glaring down at you with his knife in his hand.

“What are you going to do? Kill me? You’ve always wanted too, right?” you were trying to talk back to him, trying to act unfazed, but you were afraid. He could hear it in your voice, and see it in your eyes.

Your question catches him off guard, brings him crashing right back down to reality.

He was scaring you. You thought that he wanted to kill you, that he was going to kill you.

Now he’s furious again but for a whole new reason. He shoots you another glare, how dare you make him feel this way, before storming out of the house.

Whether he’s going to kill someone to release some rage, or just go somewhere to cool off, you’re not sure. But you take the time to collect yourself and calm yourself down.

Michael is away for a while, you might even be able to get in a good amount of sleep before he returns.

And when he does return, he’s even scarier than when he was mad. Because now he is deadly calm.

You watch him carefully. Was this really the time he was going to kill you?

He takes off his mask, making your eyes widen even more. It wasn’t the first time, far from it, but considering the circumstances you thought he would stubbornly keep it on.

The truth is that, yes Michael has likely had the urge to kill you before but only because it’s all he knows. When he feels a strong emotion, it’s usually related to killing, but you elicit a strong emotion without that. So he linked the two from time to time, not recently though. Now the thought of killing you leaves a very bad taste in his mouth.

He doesn’t want to kill you, he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he’s aware of who he is. So are you, and that’s why you had asked him the question in the first place.

You’re in for a real shock because, just for a short amount of time, your usually stoic Michael is about to become soft. Seeking forgiveness without having to apologise, trying to show you as casually as he can that he does care for you, that he will be the one to keep you safe, not the one to harm you.

Jason Voorhees

It was a joke. You had only meant it as a joke because you knew that Jason would never, ever, hurt you.

He had been out dealing with trespassers, and you had been out in the woods. He heard movement and thought it was a trespasser, but obviously it was just you. He hadn’t even come close to hurting you, he had only raised his machete, and you had laughed about being able to surprise him.

“Hey Jason. Are you going to kill me?” it was a joke! You were just playing around!

But Jason took it a little more seriously. It’s not that he can’t take a joke, it’s just that this plays on an insecurity of his.

He’s terrified about the possibility of you being afraid of him or thinking that he might hurt you.

You instantly see that it had upset him in someway, so you’re quick to assure him that you were only joking, that you know he would never hurt you and you aren’t worried that he would. Telling him that you love him and asking him if he’s finishes with the trespassers.

He hasn’t. So he sends you back to the cabin, where it is safe, and finishes up.

And when he returns home, you make sure to shower him with love and affection, making sure to prove that you never thought he would ever hurt you.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms was having one of his tantrums and he wasn’t himself when he was like this. He would shout mostly, kicking off like a child not getting his way. At most, he’d accidently break something.

But this time he was being a little more aggressive. His hands flailing around before approaching you, making you instinctively step back until he had you pinned against the way. Now he was quiet, breathing heavily, eyes angry.

“What are you doing, Brahms?” you asked but he didn’t answer. “Are you going to hit me?” while he had never done so before, it definitely felt like that was what this was leading up too.

He’d be offended by the question. Of course he wasn’t going to hit you! So he’d just storm off.

Once he calmed down, your question would ring through his mind again. You had asked if he was going to hit you...you thought that he was going to hurt you...

Now he feels awful, he has scared you and you thought that he would hurt you when he got mad. He would never let himself do that.

He’s also very worried that you’ll be mad at him.

At the point, it was late, and you had gone to bed.

So, he’d creep in, scared of getting scolded by you. Cautiously climbing on to the bed and laying with you.

When he realises that you’re still awake, he’ll apologise and try to cuddle with you. When you wrap your arms around him, accepting the cuddle, he relaxes a little, holding you close as he mumbles apologies, promising that he would never hurt you, even when he’s really mad.

He relaxes even more when you press a kiss to his head, telling him that you already know that and that it’s alright.

Bo Sinclair

Bo has a bad temper. His brothers know that, you know that, and he knows that.

When he’s mad, he can be a little scary, but he’s never hurt you before and you never really feared that he would.

He was shouting, you had just so happened to be the first person he encountered while being in this mood. He had started walking towards you and you flinched. You didn’t like that you did, but you did...and he noticed.

He snapped at you, questioning why you were flinching.

You didn’t tell him but that only made him angrier, so you eventually asked. “Are you going to hit me?”

The question made him freeze. He was just standing there, staring at you.

He had never said never said anything and he will never confess this, but sometimes he did worry about hurting you. He has a bad temper, he knows that, and there has been times that he’s broken something or hurt someone. He doesn’t want to take that out on you.

He actually worries about accidently hurting you or scaring you, so your question bothered him more than he might let on.

However, this man can not apologise to save his life.

Instead, he’s going to storm off, giving himself a chance to cool off.

When he returns, he has calmed down and he’s pretty much acting like nothing happened.

But he’s being oddly...nice, for Bo.

It’s later when he brings it up again, he’s holding you, whether you’re in bed or sitting on the couch, and he decides that he should say something.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” it sounds oddly vulnerable coming from Bo. But you look up at him and nod, giving him a small kiss, letting him relax a little. He really does hope that you mean it.

Vincent Sinclair

It was a stupid argument. He had already been in a bad mood because of an argument with Bo. He hadn’t meant to take it out on you, of course he hadn’t, but he did. He’s already apologetic for that but your question made him even more apologetic for even more reasons.

“Were you going to hit me?” you asked and Vincent froze.

Any anger Vincent felt instantly disappeared. Oh God, he was so sorry.

He hadn’t meant to scare you, definitely never meant to make you think that he would ever lay a hand on you.

He’ll take a step back, giving you some space to prove that he never intended on hurting you.

It’s silent for a moment. Vincent not sure how to respond and you instantly regretting what you said. You already knew that he wouldn’t ever hurt you, you hadn’t even meant to say it.

It’s Vincent, of course he wouldn’t hurt you.

You’ll have to reach out to him first, he just doesn’t want to scare you.

You take his hand in yours, but before you can even finish apologising, he has interrupted you and started apologising instead.

You don’t have to apologise for asking that question, he should apologise for giving you a reason to ask it.

You’re instantly pulling each other into a hug. Vincent apologising and you telling him that you know that he would never hurt you and that you love him.

An argument has never ended and been forgotten so fast.

Lester Sinclair

Lester had been in town and had an argument with Bo, so when he came back he was already in a bad mood. He has taken it out on you and that had resulted in an argument with each other.

He had told you to get out of the way but you wanted to resolve this, so he raised his voice some more to get you to move.

“What are you going to do, Lester? Hit me?” you scoffed at him. Of course he wouldn’t, you knew that, but if he was trying to be threatening it wouldn’t work because you new he would never hurt you.

Lester didn’t interpret the question that way.

“No...no, of course I’m not going to hit you” it’s like you could see Lester’s anger just disappear.

Now he looked apologetic, hurt by the question. As if you could actually believe he would ever hurt you.

“Hey...I know. I know that” you assured him.

Just like that, everything was forgiven and forgotten. It wasn’t important anyway.

Lester just pulled you into a hug, sighing and apologising for starting such a stupid argument anyway. You assure him that it’s alright, hugging him right back, and apologising as well.

Both of you hated when you argued and he was going to make sure to make it up to you.

Bubba Sawyer

This man couldn’t do anything to make his s/o think he was going to hurt them. But since we’re here...

Bubba was having a bad day but he never ever meant to even remotely take that out on you. You had approached him from behind and tapped him on the shoulder.

He had assumed that you were one of his brothers so he turned around with a huff, giving you a sour look.

“You alright, Bubba? Look like you want to hit me or something” you chuckled but were actually worried about him.

It was obvious to you that you were only joking but it was less obvious to Bubba.

As soon as you even suggest that he could hurt you, Bubba’s mood changes.

Normally all it takes to cheer him up is seeing you and his mood had lightened when he saw you, but quickly dimmed at your joke.

He just doesn’t want you to consider that for even a second.

Bubba is quickly shaking his head, babbling with worry, as he pulls you into a hug.

But you’re quick to reassure him that you were only joking, promising him that you know he would never hurt you and apologising for even joking about it.

Well, his bad mood is over. Now he just want to show you some love.

Billy Lenz

It all happened when he was in one of his bad moods. He hadn’t gone off to calm down, so he was lashing out instead. Normally it was pretty harmless but this time he was getting a little scary. And when he just kept getting closer and closer, you got a little worried. He wasn’t himself when he was like this.

“Billy...are you going to hit me?” you always tried to remain as calm as possible when he was like this, and he normally tired himself out.

Your question could ground him pretty quickly, instantly making him realise how scary he was actually being.

Or he won’t actually process your question until later when he had calmed down.

But once he has processed what you said, he feels extremely bad about it. He doesn’t want to scare you and he definitely never wanted to hurt you.

When he’s figured out how to apologise, he’ll creep into the room. Being cautious, checking if you were mad at him or not.

“Y/n...are you mad?” now he’s the one who’s nervous. “I’m sorry, Y/n...Billy wouldn’t hurt you, not ever” he would sincerely apologise.

As soon as you forgive him or open your arms for him, he’ll jump at the opportunity, clinging to you.

He’ll keep mumbling apologising and promising he wouldn’t hurt you, feeling awful about having scared you, and upset that you would think that he could hurt you.

He’ll need some cuddles even if you don’t, so plenty of cuddles are in order.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

He had taken you to the hotel and you had accidently wandered into an area that was off limits, and Asa had grabbed your arm, dragging you out.

He was obviously mad, lecturing you on listening to him. He raised his hand (not with the intention of striking you or anything) and you noticed the blade that was still in his hand.

“Are you going to hurt me?” your gaze was locked on the weapon.

His brow furrowed in confusion before realising what you meant.

It’s not like he hadn’t ‘punished’ you in the past. Hell, he had even ‘hurt’ you but it was all in a pleasurable way. He wouldn’t just hurt you because you wandered into the wrong room. He wouldn’t just hurt you because you made him a little mad.

On one hand, he is oddly understanding. Yes, he is a dangerous man, he’s a killer and he’s sadistic about it. It makes perfect sense that you would be a little weary around him, especially when he’s in a bad mood or you are arguing.

On the other hand, he quickly realises that he doesn’t want you to fear him. He doesn’t plan on hurting you, he plans on taking care of you because he cares about you.

So, he sets out to fix it. Placing the blade down and letting out a sigh, calming down. He wasn’t even that mad at you, it was an accident, he was just trying to protect you from the dangerous rooms of the hotel.

He’ll genuinely apologise for scaring you, assuring you that he had absolutely no intention of harming you.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Jesse was usually so calm and collected, it was rare to see him so...angry.

Of course he didn’t say anything but he didn’t need too, everything about him was just radiating anger and frustration.

He had never given you a reason to fear him (with the exception of meeting him or finding out he is a killer) but you couldn’t help but be a little on edge with him acting like this.

You hadn’t even really meant the question, it was like an impulse, it just came out.

He had been ignoring you mostly because he was so pissed about something, but then he suddenly started approaching you.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you heard it at the same time he did, and it surprised you as well.

The thing that Jesse was so angry about was ‘work’ relation and he never had any intention on taking it out on you. But your question does make him think about the way he was acting, and he immediately regrets it all.

He really tries not to take it too heart, he was being intimidating and you asked an innocent question. Still, a part of him can’t believe that you would even ask such as thing.

He pauses and shakes his head, deciding against approaching you any further.

Yet, you seem...sympathetic of his annoyance, you even ask him if he’s alright, asking if there is anything you can do to help.

Jesse is going to spoil the hell out of you to make up for scaring you like that.

Otis Driftwood

Otis had been in one of his bad moods and it had led to an argument between you both.

Arguments with Otis can be pretty explosive, especially if you’re as stubborn and argumentative as he is.

“What? Are you going to kill me? I know you’ve thought about it” you asked, practically scoffing at him.

You hadn’t really meant it. You knew he wasn’t going to kill you or even hurt you, you were just trying to annoy him.

Oh it pisses him off, but completely throws him off at the same time.

Of course there had been a time where he had thought about killing you, as he thinks about killing most people, but he doesn’t always like to be reminded of that. He is well aware that if he had killed you in the past, it would be something he would regret deeply.

More importantly, he can’t believe that you could ask him something like that, that you could actually think he would hurt you now (even if it’s a perfectly reasonable assumption considering everything about him).

He’s not going to apologise, he’s just going to stomp off and ignore you for a while. Mostly because he doesn’t want to actually scare you by pushing you too far, knowing he needs some time to cool off, but also because he wants to go and take his anger out elsewhere.

Otis is terrible at apologising and will avoid doing it at all costs, including now. So, he tries to do it a different way.

Once he’s calmed down and you have too, he will return to you and instead of apologising, he’ll say something more along the lines of “I’d never hurt ya.”

And he’s oddly relieved when you tell him that you already know that.

Yautja (Predator)

The argument only happened because he was worried about your safety in the first place.

But he must have done something to scare you or give you a reason to think he was beyond angry with you.

“Are you going to hurt me?” the question was quiet but it was deafening to him.

Of course he isn’t happy about it but the question actually hurt him.

He knows that he is scary and he understands that, it had been why he was so cautious around you at the beginning.

But he thought you trusted him now, that you knew he would never hurt you. It breaks his heart that you don’t.

He doesn’t blame you for this at all. He must have done something that scared you or made you feel like he could hurt you, that was on him and he was determined to fix it.

He’ll do whatever it takes to show you that can trust him, being extra gentle with you and apologising for scaring you.

And when you apologise, telling him that you know he wouldn’t hurt you, he insists that you don’t need to apologise for anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.

But you do know that he won’t hurt you, if he hadn’t proved that before, he was proving it now.

The best way to prove to him that you trust him is to just wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to lift you off your feet, and kiss his cheek, telling him that you love him and trust him. Knowing that he will protect you and never hurt you.

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Text

Seven Minutes in Heaven Hell (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader)

Summary: the boys lock you in a closet with Santi for the game “seven minutes in heaven”.

Author’s note: this is a quick and short and quite silly little thing. It’s another one that has been sat in my drafts for an age, and I thought I’d share it since I’m still working on my main WIP 😅 Maybe some of you will enjoy it?! Who knows!

Warnings: making-out. Confined spaces. Not proofread, probably mistakes.

Gif by @zoriis 🧡

You are locked in a closet with Santi. This is your reality.

The rest of the boys had decided, that if you two insisted on continuing to skirt around this Thing between you, you would pay for it. They had decided that if you were going to be immature with regards to your feelings, you could play a game from high school. Fitting, in a way, you suppose.

They had also decided, that if seven minutes locked in a closet together didn’t get you together, that by this point, nothing would.

Well, you were starting to believe that they were right about that.

You were also starting to wonder whether this game has been missold. You swore it used to be called Seven Minutes in Heaven.

It was seven minutes in hell, so far.

Minute One

“Can you not?” you complain as Santi turns around in the cramped space, his round ass backing up against your crotch. You tut loudly.

“Sorry, Princesa” he apologises, with little genuine regret. “There’s not a lot of manoeuvre room in here for all this ass.”

You try not to think about that ass. “Then stop manoevering!” you hiss, throwing your hands up in the air, despairing at the clattering noises and trying to squint through the dark to se what the hell he is doing.

Why can’t he just lean back serenely against the opposite shelf, like you, and wait for this whole nightmare to pass?

“These knitting needles are sticking into my back. Shit - I didn’t make it through war zones just to be killed by Benny’s Grandma’s craft emporium.”

His round ass bumps you again and this time you can’t help but laugh.

Christ. How do you get yourself into these situations again?

Ah, yes. Benjamin Miller. Sounds about right.

Minute Two

“Can you believe this, huh? I mean, what are they actually expecting?” you complain to Santi, now settled opposite against the shelf, your thighs pressed together in the tight space.

You bang on the closet door, yelling, “What do you expect to happen, mother fuckers?”, the sudden noise causing Santi to jump, and then you hear an unfortunate bang.

“Jesus, Princesa. Warn a man if you’re going to do that, huh?”

“Shit, did you hit your head?” you say in a lightly mocking, babying tone.

His voice is about an octave higher. “I don’t really like confined spaces, alright? Excuse me if I’m a little tense.”

“Aww, poor thing. Are you bleeding?” you half-mock, reaching your hand out in the dark until you find his grizzled curls, as if to pat him better. You weren’t expecting to find his face first though, and his hand settles over yours to prevent your thumb from poking him in the eye a second time.

“Honey. You’re killing me here. I’m starting to think I’d be better off with baby Miller.”

You feel the rasp of his stubble against your palm as he speaks, his jaw animating under your hand. Then, he grips your hand firmly in his and lowers it down to your thigh. “Just behave, will you?” he scolds, growing exasperated, and so you respond with a silky “Yes, sir,” which is intended to come out as a joke.

Really.

However, in the dark, pressed up against him, with the memory of the warmth and the textures of him fresh on your fingertips, it hits different. Even if you had been the one to say it.

Santi clears his throat, and you feel his thighs brace against yours as if he’s squirming in place, widening his legs.

You try not to think about why.

Minute Three

You had thought this would be easy, but oh boy. The time is dragging. Santi had insisted you just stay still. Stay quiet.

Fine, in theory.

But also… there’s nothing else to focus on here in the dark except… him.

The smell of his cologne. The sounds of his breathing. The press of him against you. The warmth suffusing from his thigh to yours.

“Holy shit it’s getting hot in here,” you announce suddenly, unable to beat it any longer. “I’m gonna have to take my sweater off.”

“Do you have to?”

“Yeah.”

You stand, which presses your torso closer to Santi, but apparently, you didn’t think this all the way through, because as you arch to lift your sweater over your head, you realise he didn’t stand up, and your breasts - part-exposed due to your low cut vest- therefore brush against his face.

Oh fuck. That felt… good. His stubble rasping over the sensitive skin at your cleavage?

“Shit, sorry. That was my tits.”

“No shit,” he bites, his breath warm against your bare skin.

And oh fuck… great. Because now your sweater is tangled above your head and you can’t seem to get it off, especially in this tight space where the triangles of your elbows seem to be bumping off everything (not) in sight.

So, as you tug and struggle, and try not to whip poor Santi in the face with your tits again you simply wish this could all be over soon.

“Shit. Don’t tell me I have to help strip you.”

“Doing my best.”

He grunts.

“Okay, but… do you have to make those… little noises? I’m doing my best but I’m only a man, honey. You’re fucking killing me here.”

Were you? Yeah, you guess you were making some… little noises. Maybe some little grunts and whimpers and groans as you struggled with your clothes. Which… in the dark, with your tits bouncing in front of his face…

Oh god.

Still, you can’t resist teasing him a little. “Sorry, sir.”

“Cariño,” Santi warns, his voice deeper. “Space is already tight in here without you encouraging certain things to take up more room,” he purrs, and he stands, as you are dumbfounded by his innuendo, peeling your sweater off you with ease.

He throws in some of his own little noises for good measure when he takes it off you.

Thank god you’re wearing fewer layers, at least, because it’s starting to get very warm in here.

Minute four

Are you still in here? Really? When will this end?

You bounce your foot agitatedly against the floor.

This… silence is awkward now. There’s a… tension?

Would you call it a tension?

I mean, why not. You’re only trapped in a small space with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. Not to forget that only moments ago, he implied your noises were giving him an erection and now you can think of nothing else.

Is this a… sex dream? A sex dream you’re trapped in? Because if it is you definitely want to skip to the part with the sex. And if it’s not? Then you really ought to stop thinking about his…

Ahem.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, harshly puncturing the silence, and you hear Santi dispel a light chuckle, then release a gust of held breath.

“Benny’s grandma.”

He can’t see it, of course, but you crinkle your nose in confusion. “What? Why?”

“I’ve found thinking about Benny’s grandma to be… calming in the current situation. You know, since I’m locked in a fucking cupboard with a stone cold temptress.”

You scoff. “Please, Pope. Hardly. I couldn’t tempt you even if I wanted to. I’m not your type.”

“Who in the fuck told you that?” he asks, without missing a beat.

You fold your arms around yourself. “Well, nobody… I just…”

There is a pause, and you think he has dropped it, until his voice comes back, smaller than before, but filled with seeming sincerity.

“Cariño, you could tempt me even if you weren’t trying.”

You make a series of unintelligible noises, in disbelief, your brain losing the ability to form words.

“And for the record, you’re exactly my type.”

Oh Jesus.

This is it, right?

It must be.

This is how you die.

Minute Five

There is another silence, mainly as you try to process what on Earth Santi just said.

It seems to take forever for the cogs to turn, but at the same time, it doesn’t take you long. He likes you? Then why in the hell have you two never…?

It dawns on you.

The answers obvious really, as soon as you think about it.

You’re both idiots. And this is precisely why your friends have resorted to locking you in the closet.

You should say something, right? This is your chance? To tell him how you feel.

You think about saying something, but in the end, Santi beats you to it. “Hey, temptress. What’s behind you?”

“What?”

“What’s on the shelves, behind you? Spiky? Soft? What we got?”

You reach behind you automatically. It all seems soft. Plush.

“Why do y-?”

“-Just answer the question, baby girl,” Santi says, and with his voice dropped lower in his chest it just… hits different.

“Bedding, or something like that,” you croak. “Why?”

“Because my side’s fucking lethal, and if we’re gonna make out, I need to know what we’re dealing with over your side.”

“Fuck,” you respond, in a breathy voice.

Is this really happening?

There is a beat. You wish you could see him, but you think it’s probably a good thing he can’t see you, as you are a mess right now.

Your composure is so far out of the window it’s travelled across three states.

“Well?” he asks, ever so casually. “Wanna make out?”

Minute 6

You respond affirmatively, and the moment you do, Santi surges forward, his hands leading to find your position in the dark. He plants them at your waist, much more smoothly than when you had tried to touch him, and you allow him to guide you to standing.

“Which way?” he asks, his thumbs caressing the flesh at your hips, his breath close enough to be felt fanning over you. His cologne wrapping around you.

Your heart is fluttering wildly in your chest, and all you can think about is his hands tenderly folding your body into his, and his lips slanting against yours.

“Wha-“

“I don’t want to butt heads with you. Which way are you going to lean when we kiss?”

“To the right,” you whisper, practically breathless with nerves and anticipation. Your legs shaking.

“To the right?” Santi asks, and he slowly, ever so slowly, inches one hand up your body until it comes to delicately cup your chin, and then, he is moving in, his head tilting and your lips magnetising towards one another’s in the dark.

When you make initial contact it is soft, and tentative, and when you moan at the feel of him his tongue licks into your open mouth, melding deliciously with yours.

This definitely is not a sex dream.

You know because it feels way way better.

Minute 7

The lock turns in the door, and Frankie has the courtesy to loudly announce himself, at least. He probably figures he doesn’t want to risk an eyeful.

Before it can crack open you push Santi off you however; much to his disappointment, judging by the loud groan he emits.

Benny and Will appear behind Frankie as you and your secret make-out partner shield your eyes from the sudden influx of light.

“Don’t tell me,” Benny says with a shit-eating grin. “Nothing happened?”

“I told you,” you say smugly, but your three captors laugh.

You’re unsure why they’re so disbelieving until you risk a look at Santi, and you realise the dead giveaway. His face and neck are covered in your lipstick, and he’s sporting a (rather appealing) bulge at his crotch.

You swear you even see him mouthing “Benny’s grandma” under his breath.

“Fine,” you concede. “But it was just a little bit of kissing,” you insist, determined not to give the Boys the satisfaction.

“Uh, sweetie?” Frankie leans in. “We’re all totally buying it. Lapping this shit up. But you might want to do something about your breast?”

Shit.

You look down and your face heats as you realise that your vest top is tugged down, exposing one rather lacy bra cup to the room. Oh, and not to mention the seething marks Santi has bitten and sucked into the meat of your chest.

You exchange a self-satisfied look with your partner in crime as you tug up your top, and he looks more than a little pleased with himself too, one thick brow ticking up suggestively.

“Oh fine,” you admit, folding your arms against yourself. “We made out.”

And, even though you’re stating the obvious by this point, the boys erupt with chatter and jubilation and… did Benny just howl?

Yeah, figures.

All of them are animated except for Santi, who is still. Staring serenely at you, his eyes glowing with something between admiration and heat.

“What do you say?” he asks you tentatively, reaching for your hand to hold in his.

“Say to what?” you question, searching his eyes, and a smile dancing at the corners of your mouth.

“Well,” he winks. “I can give you a whole lot longer than seven minutes in heaven, if you wanna.”

Well. Now there’s an offer.

You practically drag him by the hand, and you head upstairs to finish what your meddling buddies started.

You might be idiots, but at least you figured it out eventually. Besides, you now have the joy of making up for lost time, and you have to figure -if that make-out session was anything to go by- that Santi will be nothing short of exceedingly good at that.

You’d definitely take seven minutes in hell for a long stint in heaven, and, as Santi dips you to the bed and settles his mouth over yours, you know it’s more than a fair exchange.

Besides, he’s so much hotter with the lights on.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #Santiago Garcia x reader #oscar isaac #triple frontier

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clouds-rambles · 3 years

Note

hey bestie i was hoping to request xiao, venti, childe and zhongli where the the reader and the character have just had an argument + the reader needs time to calm down from the argument. omg maybe the reader comes back with a gift to apologise

Ask and ye shall receive <3. I’m the kind of person who needs time to relax and process the situation after an argument. I’m always too worked up (read angry) to kiss and make up straight after an argument.

Pairings; (Separate) Xiao, Venti, Childe, Zhongli x reader

Warning(s); breif mention of a wound, alcoholism, swearing

Keep reading under the cut!

Xiao

You’re probably being too harsh on the guy

You had just come back from a tough mission with a few more scrapes than you normally come back, a nasty cut in particular situated on your shoulder was what caused the argument to kick off in the first place

In hindsight the argument started from Xiao’s concern of you getting hurt worse but you were too tired from the commission to really read it as concern

But boy now do you feel bad. You both went your separate ways for the evening and in the morning you still haven’t caught sight of your partner. You eventually go around Wangshu Inn and ask if they’ve seen Xiao.

You get told that he’s out for the day, apparently he caught wind of something manifesting in the mountains. So, you suppose that it’s high time to make an apology gift

And what’s a better apology gift than your partners favourite food? Because your arguments are often few and far between you don’t mind making Xiao almond tofu since it’s not something you’ve associated with apologising

Though you’re aware that the sweet snack means nothing if you’re not sincere with your apology.

So what’s more sincere than sitting at the highest balcony of Wangshu Inn and wait for Xiao. You don’t mind how long it takes for him to come back just as long as you get to apologise

He comes back just after dusk and you pour your apologise profusely and tell him you understand that he was coming from a place of concern

Xiao is a little distant a short while after the apology but soon you’re reassured that he accepts it when he places his hand on the table for you to take hold of

The two of you sit in silence sat hand in hand while Xiao eats his tofu

You watch him eat with a grin on your face, sometimes just watching the Yaksha sit still and do his thing is enough to keep you in a trance for the evening

Venti

Maybe you got into an argument because you’re concerned over Venti’s drinking habits, sure he’s an immortal god but doesn’t he worry about his liver?

Sure the argument started because you’re worried about the archon but boy does he make you angry with his non-sensical thought processes

Venti is the kind of guy who wouldn’t let you leave without settling the argument

Even if the happy medium isn’t actually going to bring any change into the questionable drinking habits

But this argument just feels a little different, you’ve had the same conversation form months but nothing seems to change

You’re not even sure if Venti has actually listened to anything you have said to him about it

So you tell him “Do what you want, but you’re sleeping on the sofa tonight” yeah you just resigned him to sofa treatment. As much as you hate it you’re far too heated to just kiss and make up right now

So the night passes and you wake up with the cold space beside you, you’re confused until you remember the previous nights events

Though your unusual silence in the room doesn’t last long, you presume Venti sensed that you’re awake because you hear a knock at your bedroom door, you’re surprised that Venti is actually here and that he hadn’t sulked off to Windrise where you had originally planned to apologise to him

As you open the door you notice your partner stood before you with a bunch of hand picked cecelia's and dandelions and an apologetic look on his face

You’ve never known Venti to speak so fast he apologises profusely for causing you such worry and promises that he’ll try to drink less, he mentions that he doesn’t wish to give up his Friday and Saturday drinking nights but he’s willing to tone it down during the week if it stops you worrying

You thank him sincerely and find a vase to put the flowers in

You hug Venti and apologise yourself for being such a worry wart and causing such a big argument

“I’m glad I have someone to worry about me, I don’t know what I’d do without you” You can’t help but swoon at his flowery words and grin at him before the two of you start off the day

Childe

It’s a bad habit he has, when you try and talk about something serious with him he constantly cracks jokes at the situation. Which in its self isn’t the worse thing in the world, even you crack jokes to lighten the situation but at some points it goes too far

And today is too far, what started off as a disagreement about where you were going to eat lunch ended up in a full scale (mostly one sided) argument in Childes office about how he can’t take things seriously

You, of course, know this to be false. You’ve seen him in action against his foes and bank business but just in this moment when you are so angry about the situation those rational thoughts go out the window

And what does the bastard do? He cracks another fucking joke

“Is this what I am?” you ask finally reaching the catalyst of your temper “A fucking joke?”

And boy does the exclamation comes to a surprise to him. No matter how frequent your use of curse words you’ve never directed them at him so it catches Childe by even more surprise

“[name] I’m sorry I didn’-” he tries to apologise

“You didn’t fucking what Tartaglia? Want to make me feel like a joke? Cause you’ve been going down that road at every fucking disagreement we have” you cut him off in a fit of rage “Sleep in your own fucking bed tonight” you add before storming out his office

He tried to follow you out the bank before he was stopped by a fatui agent about some urgent debt collection, so he never got to apologise immediately

And that’s how the next couple of days go, you’ve taken most of the time to cool off and avoid anywhere Childe might be hanging about, your plan works better considering said harbinger was out of Liyue Harbour for a couple of days

Though on the third night Childe appears at your door, he doesn’t bring any gifts, just himself. Childe enjoys gifting things to you so he doesn’t want you or him to associate gift giving with apologies. You’re more than thankful for this

Childe apologises before you even have the chance to invite him in and takes your hand and wholeheartedly promises to try and not make jokes when you have a disagreement

You also apologise and agree that, in hindsight, you blew things out of proportion. You reassure him that he’s a hardworking man and that a few out of place jests make everything more bearable to him.

You invite him inside for some tea, your bed isn’t as cold as it was tonight

Zhongli

Disagreements with Zhongli never seem to get any further than that. The archon likes to listen to you vent your frustrations over a cup of herbal tea and usually that calms you down and everything is settled before supper

But every once in a while you’re a little high strung. For instance this time you’re running on a total of 5 hours sleep over the last 4 days. Sleep deprivation could possibly be your middle name at this point

The only thing you want to do when you get back from your restless trip from Mondstat back home is to just sleep the next few years

But the sweetie that Zhongli is he quizzes you about your great to horrific trip

Zhongli pulls all the stops he readys some dinner for you and draws a bath when you get back. He even gives you a small lecture about how you’ll feel terrible not washing before going to bed

But with your tired ears, eyes and brain it feels like a personal attack in your entire self “I’ve had it up to here with bloody hillichurls for 4 horrific days, all I want to do is pass the living hell out thank you”

Replace the bloodys with fucks and that’s probably more accurate to what you said

Zhongli is taken a little aback, being an older traditional man it’s unbecoming of anyone to use such sailor language. And thus the male lectures you about it

You take that as about as well as you expect, you don’t respond to him and favour walking out the room, barely getting undressed and collapsing on your shared bed

You wake up the next morning (though when you peek outside it seems like it’s after noon) disorientated. You don’t actually remember coming home the previous day

Then the memory resurfaces of you yelling at your spouse and regret washes over you

Surely the gift you had prepared for Zhongli would be good enough as repercussions of yesterdays outburst

You see Zhongli in the dining room, to the untrained eye he looks like he’s in a normal mood but to you, you can see his brooding emanating off of him. If you dare point it out Zhongli will deny that he even broods in the first place

He’s the first to greet you without turning around. Rightfully so, he’s still in a mood. So you just profusely apologise for your outburst

You explain that you were running on next to no sleep and while that doesn’t excuse your outburst it certainly explains it. If your spouse so wishes to ask how your trip was you would comply much more now since you’ve had a good sleep behind you.

You then change the subject to the gift in your hands, some rose tea. Something Zhongli had mentioned when you were courting all that time ago.

The man sits you on his lap and explains to you about how it was out of place of him to assume you’d be in a talking mood immediately after your travels. You reassure him that under normal circumstances you wouldn’t mind talking about it, you promise that you will do everything in your power to not let the previous night repeat

You then bring out his gift, rose tea, which he had mentioned wanting to taste a little while back, and before long you’re back in the cycle of Zhongli profusely explaining to you some random subject (in this instance rose tea) before you go off to make dinner where you finally share the details of your travels

Hope this is okay! <3 I kind of went a little ham with the Childe and Zhongli one in comparison to the other two hope you don’t mind lmao <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #reader insert #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #genshin xiao #venti x reader #genshin venti x reader #genshin venti #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin childe x reader #genshin childe #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli

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parkersroses · 3 years

Text

stupid boy. | harry styles.

summary: Harry comes to his senses and realises it's been you all this time. a continuation of stupid girl.

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): minor angst and some fluff!

a/n: (disclaimer: gif belongs to @oneandonlycheshirecat) ahhh i hope you guys like this as much as the first part! do lmk what you think of it, reblog (!!) & comment, let's talk about it! here's my ko-fi if you consider donating and supporting me more. all my love to you all <3

Harry finds himself staring down at his black coffee, watching it swirl as he stirs his spoon around. The spoon makes clinking sounds as it moves against the rim of the cup and he hears it scraping against the bottom of it.

It’s generally calm in the coffee shop he’s in. The baristas are bustling around behind the counter and sounds of the coffee machines being used are elicited. He hears the sound of the register as the customers pay and the cashier thanking them, proceeding to greet the next customer. People are sat in their own spaces, minding their own things like gossip or struggling to finish up an assignment.

Harry sat in a booth next to the glass window of the shop. He finds himself not paying that much attention to the world around him, instead just staring out through the window he sits next to. His mind is a blur and he sort of forgets why he was out in the first place.

He gently sips on his hot black coffee. The warm bitter taste sitting on his taste buds. You once told him what a monster he was when he told you it’s the only way to drink coffee. You disagree because you couldn’t handle the taste, opting for steamed milk in your coffee. He smiles at the memory of the little things you both would disagree on.

He hasn’t seen you or spoken to you in a while. In fact, he doesn’t know if he should. He doesn’t know if you would want to see him or talk to him. He wonders what are you doing at the moment.

He’s been thinking about everything that has happened between the two of you since that night. How he believes it may have been his fault that the friendship is possibly ruined.

What is he supposed to say anyway? What should he say? He’s never realised how his own best friend was in love with him. He realises now of how stupid and selfish he was to not even consider her feelings when he first suggested they would start fake dating.

He convinces himself that he is still hopelessly in love with Amber. Well, at least he thinks he is. He’s not even sure of his own feelings anymore.

At first, he was so sure about his feelings for Amber. He thought of the plan going so well, convincing everyone including her that you both are in love, that maybe some jealousy might spark from her and tell him ‘Hey, I still love you too.’ Then, that night happened and everything about winning Amber back went out of the window.

He thinks about you a lot and sometimes wonders if you do the same. And he misses you. He really misses you.

He misses the way you tease him for even the smallest things. He misses talking to you about writing music because you are usually his confidant who always motivated him to write what he likes. He misses your laughter and how you throw your head back like a little kid, how you’d even apologise for having an ugly laugh when he always thought it was adorable.

Yeah, he misses you a lot. He asks himself whether she feels the same. Whether she too is somehow feeling alone, not knowing if the other wants anything to do with you or even speak to you at all. He hopes that you don’t think it’s all your fault.

After all, he was the selfish, blind and stupid one.

“Harry,” a soft-spoken voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He looks up and smiles at the person he’s been meaning to talk to. Maybe she could somehow help him figure out his feelings.

“Amber, hi.” He stands from his seat, giving her a small hug. He gestures to her the seat in front of him and she gladly sits. It doesn’t seem as awkward as he expected.

“Quite surprised you wanted to meet, actually,” she confesses to him, chuckling a bit. He rubs the back of his head in a nervous manner. A waiter comes by to take her order and she politely asks for a latte.

Funny, you like lattes. No wonder you got along with her, he guesses.

“Yeah. I’m sorry for calling you out of the blue like this,” he apologises. She waves her hand in front of him, telling him it’s all good. “It’s fine. It’s great seeing you again,” she tells him.

“So, how’ve you been since I last saw you?” He enquires.

“Oh, I’ve been alright. Work has been good. Nothing major goes on, unlike you, superstar,” she jokes and they both laugh at this. “That’s great to hear. I’m really happy for you.” She smiles to thank him and the waiter comes back again with her drink.

He is itching to ask her this and hopes it doesn’t come out as too forward or invasive. “Um, what about your friend? The one you brought with you the other week we met?” He asks, his head is slightly tilted down as if he’s scared to make eye contact with her after that question.

“Oh, yeah! He’s great! He really enjoyed meeting you guys, by the way!” Her face lights up when she talks about him and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry. “Never asked this then, but how did you guys meet?” He curiously asks.

Her face blushes at this. “Um, we met at work actually. Met him on my first day and taught me some things here and there about the place. We have become quite close since then.” She tells him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “We, uh, have been on a couple dates. So yeah, that’s something that’s been going on.”

Naturally, Harry would ultimately feel jealous that the girl he still loves has her eye and heart on another man. But it doesn’t feel that way. He didn’t feel jealousy running through his veins at this. He didn’t feel sadness at the fact that she’s probably moved on.

“That’s great, Am. M’happy for you,” he tells her. And he genuinely means it now.

She thanks him and sips on her drink. “What about you and Y/N? How’s the love life going on with you two?” She teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him. He lets out a sad laugh at this. “Yeah, um. Not that great at the moment.”

“Oh?” She frowns at this.

“We, um, I guess we sort of broke up.” He says unsurely.

“You guess?”

He sighs. “We had an argument over something. We both got upset. Haven’t seen or even talked to her for a while now.”

His gaze is averted down at the table where his black coffee is at. It seems that even talking about brings feelings of guilt filling up his body.

“I’m sorry about that, Harry.” Amber looks at him, seeing how small and sad he looks. It’s clear for her to see how he regrets the argument.

“I just don’t know what to say to make things better. Feel like I might say something wrong again.” He sighs, feeling frustrated with himself.

Amber thinks for a moment on how to help him. “Well, what do you feel right now?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow for a second. “I’m upset. Upset that I haven’t spoken to her. Upset that I don’t know what she’s feeling right now or how she's doing. Upset that everything is my fault. I don’t know how to help or fix us.” He breathes out.

“And you haven’t reached out to her yet?”

He shakes his head, almost feeling ashamed that he hasn’t. “No. Don’t know what I’d say if she would listen to me.”

Frustration is building up and his emotions are going haywire. He’s mad at how he’s ruined things with his best friend and how his own selfishness was the root of it.

Amber is quiet for a moment. She feels sad for him that he’s feeling this way. She thinks of how much he really cares for you, loves you even. And that he’ll do anything to fix whatever that’s left between you two. But one thing she knows about Harry is that he doesn’t give up easily on the people he really loves.

“Well, do you love her?” She asks. Harry lifts his head up so fast at the question.

“What?”

“Harry, do you love her?”

Harry has to pause and think. Of course, he loves you. You’re his best friend, his confidant for nearly everything he does.

He loves you even though you drink your tea with milk sometimes. He loves you even when you buy books despite not yet finishing the ones you have on your shelf. He loves you even when you sometimes put him before you for everything.

He loves your laughter. He loves holding your hand because of how warm and comforting it is. He loves holding you because you tend to hold him tighter, especially when he’s had a bad day and confided in you when he and Amber broke up. He loves calling you cute pet names because he enjoys seeing your cheeks heat up in embarrassment but he does it anyway as it just seems so natural to do it. And you’re beautiful. So, so beautiful.

He thinks about the way you are and how you’ve always been the one person that always supported him. He loves you in many ways he could possibly think of. And it’s just like that, he realises he was never still in love with Amber. Even during the times where he’d want her to look at you two when you fake-dated. Even after that night, he always thought of you and never once tried to plan to pursue Amber. He never cared about that anymore. All he thought about is you. You. You. You.

He always wanted to see you, smiling and laughing. He always so naturally called you ‘baby’ and ‘love’.

He had you all this time.

He’s in love with you.

He gasps as he realises this. Amber is still staring at him, waiting for his answer. “I do,” he finally speaks. And she smiles at his answer.

“I do love her.” He says it confidently and surely.

She nods, and it’s written all over his face that he’s in love with her. “Then, you should tell her that. Swallow up your pride. Apologise. Chase after her.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat. She grabs his hand from across the table. He used to think that sparks would fly when he’s with her. But he doesn’t feel like that with her anymore. He just wants you and only you. That is, if you’ll have him.

“Harry,” she starts. “I know she loves you too. She’ll forgive you if you talk it out.” And he believes it.

Without a moment to waste, he gets up from his table. He apologises profusely but thanks her and tells her he’ll pay for the drinks, in which she tells him not to worry so much.

As he rushes out the door, Amber watches him and smiles to herself. She hopes for the best for the two of you. Even from the look on his face, she knew.

It’s always been you.

—

Knocks on your door pull you out from your thoughts. The last couple of days had your emotions going on a rollercoaster ride. You figured it was easier to just sit and journal anything and everything your mind has to say.

To your knowledge, you weren’t really expecting anyone. Unless, it’s a package of something you might have impulsively purchased the other day to cope with your loneliness and sadness.

You often wonder whether you have ruined your friendship with Harry. You miss him, you always do. You still love him even though he can be clueless at times. But you guess that’s what makes Harry, Harry.

You wonder whether he feels the same.

You’ve been plucking up the courage to call him and ask how he's been doing, failing miserably at the thought that he might not want to talk about it. God, you really need to come through if he’s not going to, you think.

You wait for a moment to see if the knocks would continue, and they don't at first. You shrug at yourself and focus back on the journal entry you’re writing on before a couple more knocks come in.

You sigh, throwing your head back as your moment of peace is ruined. You stand and make your way to the door, not bothering to clean yourself up, though you thought you look pretty decent. Dark sweatpants and a slightly oversized graphic tee.

Yeah, not bad for someone who’s been moping about her best friend who she’s in love with and possibly ruined it.

The person is still knocking on your door and you’re getting slightly irritated. You unlock the door and open it, ready to tell the person off when you stop before the words could come out.

“Harry?”

He stands there, dressed in a vintage tee and a pair of jeans. The shirt looks a bit small on him which makes it hug his chest and biceps. His tattoos are on display as they’re scattered all over his skin. You still think he looks good and attractive. Why the hell are you so whipped for this man?

He has a bag in his hands and you notice it’s food from the Mexican restaurant you love going to together. He even has a small bouquet of your favourite flowers. His face has a small yet nervous smile etched on it. If you weren’t having such a tough exterior put up, you think you might’ve cried. Not yet, though.

“Hi,” he says. And you realise how much you miss hearing his voice in person.

“Hey.” You stare at him for a moment before realising he was probably waiting to come in.

“Please! Come in!” You politely usher him in as you open your door wider for him. He thanks you as he walks in, not forgetting to talk off his shoes by the door, arranging them neatly next to your shoes like he always does.

He looks around your place, fidgeting on his feet like it’s the first time he’s been in here. You clear your throat to catch his attention. “Um, I brought food.” He lifts the bag in front of you and you chuckle. “I can see that,” you tell him as you take the bag from his hands. Harry follows behind you as you go to set the bag on your kitchen counter.

You turn around to look around to look at him, your eyes falling on the flowers he has. “Oh, uh, for you.” He thrusts them into your hand and you smile at the gesture. “Thanks,” you say softly as you breathe in the floral scent. You turn to your kitchen to find an empty vase to put the flowers in.

He scratches the back of his head in a nervous manner. “Um, I’m sorry for just showing up like this. I just wanted to see you. And I thought we could have some lunch together so I brought food too.”

You nod at his words. He’s still fidgeting in his place, looking nervous and almost shaking. “Harry, just relax. It’s just me,” you comfort him as you lay a hand on his arm gently. He nods and lets out a breath. “Sorry, um, I was nervous that you might not want to see me again.”

You frown at this. “Harry, I’ll always want to see you,” you tell him. “Yeah, I just thought, after that night, I might’ve ruined things between us,” he breathes out.

The corner of your lips lift up slightly at the man in front of you. Your eyes avert to the floor beneath. “If it’s anything, I thought I might’ve ruined things between us.” He frowns at this.

“Hey.” He’s itching to grab your hand, wanting to feel the warmth of your touch, but he doesn’t want to scare you off. “You definitely didn’t do anything other than being honest. I promise.”

You sigh at him. “Harry, we don’t have to talk about it. We can just pretend everything is fine.”

“No!”

His sudden tone takes you by surprise and you raise an eyebrow. He almost cowers back after realising this. “I’m sorry. Shouldn't have yelled like that.” He takes in a breath. “I just feel like I should say something. I mean, I've been thinking a lot about what I was going to say when I came over, so,” he trails off, looking at you still. He takes a moment to realise how pretty and beautiful you are. He doesn’t know why it took him so long to realise how in love he is with her.

“Okay.” You tell him and you almost get deja vu from the time you agree to fake-date him.

He lets out a big breath. “Okay, uh,” he exhales. “I just want to say I’m sorry first. For not really considering how you might feel when we did what we did. I should’ve made sure you were actually okay with it. I wish I knew how you actually felt about it.”

“Harry, you couldn’t have known how I felt because I never told you anything,” you tell him. “And, it’s fine. Really. I agreed to it, anyway.”

Harry nods, but his lips are in a straight line. He expects you to tell him how upset you were, but you don’t. You’re selfless enough to put his own feelings before yours when you agree to his plan. He kicks himself internally because of it.

You sense that he’s having a battle in his mind over this, so you take his hand in yours in hopes to somewhat ease what he’s feeling. He’s shocked to say the least when you do this but he instantly tightens his grip. And God, he misses holding your hand.

You clear your throat a bit. “Um, that was the first thing you wanted to say. What is the second?” You softly question him.

“Um,” he pauses. He’s looking at you and he can’t stop looking at you. He thinks carefully on his next words, not wanting to lose you if he says what he wants to.

“I’m in love with you,” he finally blurts out. He feels a slight relief in his chest after saying that.

But it’s almost like the world froze and it has become eerily quiet as he waits for your reaction. He’s starting to think that he broke you because you're staring at him in shock. He’s starting to sweat a bit because you haven't said a word.

He opens his mouth to say something, but your free hand goes up to touch his face.

“Wha-,” He’s confused as you pat around his face, concern and slight shock still etched on your face. “I’m making sure you’re not sick or burning up,” you say to him.

“What? I’m not sick!” He grabs her hand, making her pause her actions.

“Well, you’re sweating!”

“Because I’m nervous around you and you haven’t said anything!”

“You just said you’re in love with me! Sorry if I am shocked that the man I’m in love with just confessed his love to me and that I think he’s joking!” you whine at your defense.

Harry pauses for a moment before chuckling at her. He doesn’t realise how much he misses the playful banter you both have. “You silly, stupid girl,” he says, holding both of your hands. “I’m not joking. I am really, truly, stupidly, in love with you, lovie.”

There he goes, calling you pet names that might make you melt.

“You are?” You ask softly, almost not believing the words that are coming out of his mouth.

“I am.”

“You’re not just saying this, right? I’m serious, you’re playing around with me, I will-”

“I’m serious!” He throws his hand up in defense. “I promise. I, uh, thought long and hard about it. Realised how much I missed you and how I hated being away from you. Realised how much I love and care about you more than I should and I wish I realised what I felt sooner. Every day and night since the last time we saw each other, all I could think about is you and how you were feeling. Been thinking about what I wanted to say or how I wanted to apologise. And there was never a second where you weren’t constantly on my mind."

You smile at his long confession and stifle a small laugh. “You really are something else, Styles.” You tell him. “Hated being away from you too. I felt the same way, wondering how or where you’ve been. Wondering if I still had my best friend and if he still wanted me around.”

“You know I’ll always want you around.” He tells you.

“Well, I hate you for taking so long to tell me that.” You grin at him sarcastically.

“No, you don’t. You love me,” he teases you. You groan at him.

“Don’t push it.”

You both giggle at each other, feeling as though the air is clearing between you. His smile falters a bit as he studies your face. “I’m sorry for taking so long.” He holds your hand and loves the familiar warmth it gives him.

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” You look at your joint hands together, loving how right it feels.

“I love you,” he tells you, gazing at you lovingly. You bring a hand up to his face and caress his cheek. He sighs at the feeling, leaning into your touch as his eyes close. “I love you, too.”

You notice his eyes averting back and forth between your eyes and lips. “Are you gonna kiss me?” You say playfully. He smirks at this. “Yeah, I am. If you’ll let me.”

“Harry, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’ll-,” You’re immediately cut off as Harry grabs your face in his large hands, pressing his lips onto yours. And it feels like, finally. You sigh into the kiss, tasting the sweetness of his lips on yours. His lips feel soft like you’ve always (embarrassingly) imagined it’d be. You let out a tiny whimper as you feel his tongue enter your mouth. You gasp at this and grip on his shirt, as if telling him to not move away from you.

He moans as he pulls away, lifting your chin up. He looks at you so in awe and in love, it sends my heart bursting with so many emotions. He leans in again to kiss you, making it longer like he’s memorising the way your lips taste.

You both pull away again to catch your breath. Harry sneaks in another peck which makes you giggle and smile. You gaze on him, eyes lingering on his swollen and extra pink lips after your kiss and it makes your heart fill with pride knowing it’s because of you. His green eyes seem to sparkle more now that you think about it.

Harry lets out a chuckle, leaning his forehead on yours. You are both smiling like idiots in love. You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you in by your waist. You both sway a bit in your place, the feeling of love and adoration for each other lingering on.

A rumbling noise pulls you both out of the moment. He pulls away and laughs. “Was that you?” You whine in embarrassment as you bury your head in his chest. “I’m hungry and you brought food here. I’m sorry,” you mumble onto his shirt.

“Mmm, guess we should eat then, right lovie?” He says, looking down at your figure. You hum in reply as you look up at him. “Will you stay the night?”

He grins and his heart melts at the small request. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll want me to, baby.”

“I’ll always want you,” you feel your face warm up as you say this but it’s true. He kisses your forehead and your eyes close at the feeling of his lips on yours.

You both grin stupidly at each other before he leans in again to kiss you. You’re quick to react as you pull him closer. Harry takes you by surprise as he suddenly lifts you off your feet, spinning you around as you kiss. You squeal and laugh at this, it makes Harry smile as he sees you throw your head laughing. He trails his lips down to your jaw and neck, kissing lightly on it.

There’s nothing he’d ever exchange this moment for. Your laughter and the kisses you share whilst being so madly and stupidly in love.

And it just finally feels right with you and him.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #best friend!harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #parkersroses writing

555 notes · View notes

yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing xiii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 635

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello friends!!! here is the next update :D i hope you enjoy the read! it's been a v long week for me so it's nice to just unwind hehe. thank you for the support & love you all!!!!

“Are you going to just … stare at me?” Jungkook clears his throat as his eyes dart anywhere but forward. It was less uncomfortable that way.

The two people in front of him don’t flatter him with an immediate response, instead; they stare him down harder until Jungkook can quite literally feel the stare of their eyes burning a hole into his forehead. He nearly shrinks into his seat, but he manages to pull a somewhat neutral expression even if he was on the verge of a meltdown.

“Maybe.” Jimin retorts snappishly.

Jungkook knew Jimin would be the pettier one between the two, but again; it’s not unwarranted. So he sucks it up like a big boy and nods his head slowly in understanding.

However, Taehyung was a different situation. His blank face was already intimidating as it is and Jungkook’s known him ever since the two of them were in middle school. More often than not people mistook him for cold and disinterested, whereas he usually just got lost in his thoughts.

But it’s obvious when Taehyung doesn’t like someone. He doesn’t put up a front to pretend that things are dandy and that he vibes with you. No, Taehyung’s blank face returns and it’s tenfold. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t just that, that resulted in the permanent vacant expression etched onto his expression—it’s paired with the fact that Jungkook’s an idiot and this is his punishment.

Jungkook knows better that Taehyung isn’t the type to take things head-on (like Jimin), but rather allow people to ruminate in their thoughts as he stares you down with a gaze so intense that it feels like he’s unpacking every single stray thought that passes by your mind. Jungkook is aware, but he’s never had to be on the receiving end of it.

“Are we going to, uh, order?” Jungkook asks, hands gripping the menu tightly.

Taehyung still stares, and Jimin narrows his eyes at the younger boy.

“You know ____ hasn’t arrived yet, right?” His tone is accusatory and Jungkook feels himself pale.

“I didn’t mean—okay,” He sighs in defeat, “We’ll wait.”

Jimin eyes him carefully before opting to skim through the menu. Jungkook knows it’s a front to not have to engage with him since they’ve frequented the same diner more than enough times for the waiters and waitresses to know their orders by heart. It’s been a while since they came here, and Jungkook knows that he’s partly to blame.

It sucks, sitting here in silence when he remembers that the three of them, you aside—used to engage in stupid banter and talked about the most random things like college boys do. They were his best friends, Jungkook grew up with them and he distinctly remembers always getting into trouble with the two boys until their parents only sighed every time they saw them returning home with guilty expressions ridden on their faces.

Now the banter is replaced with tense silence, but it doesn’t feel like it’s over. Jungkook hopes, at least.

Before Jungkook can say something else, he feels someone slip into the empty seat next to him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” Your voice is sweet and cheerful, and it’s nice to hear you like this again.

Jungkook looks up and sees you smiling at everyone, oblivious to the strained mood of the table before you came.

“Don’t apologise,” Taehyung says for the first time, offering you a small smile, “We were waiting for you, weren’t we?”

Jungkook stiffens, fully aware that it was directed to him. He wanted to lamely interject and say that it wasn’t what he meant, but he knew that Jimi would give him more shit for that anyway.

“You didn’t have to!” You exclaim.

Jungkook feels somewhat satisfied at the scowl that plagues Jimin’s expression, but it’s quickly covered with a beaming smile in your direction as he calls over a waiter.

“We know our orders, right?” Jimin asks.

You nod, smiling brightly; clearly excited to be here again.

And Jungkook feels nice, too. It’s nice being here, with the three of you—even if Jimin and Taehyung were still giving him the cold shoulder it was much better than pretending like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.

“It’s nice to be back,” You smile to yourself after the four of you order, and Jungkook can only agree.

Maybe it wasn’t so nice, after all.

Because the entire time, Jimin and Taehyung were dead-set on making Jungkook feel the guilt of his actions tenfold when they pick apart at every word he offers into the conversation.

“Have we not been here for that long? Even the interiors changed a little.”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. Who’s fault is that?” Jimin says off-handedly, unbothered to even cast him a glance.

“Wait, really? There’s a forum coming up?”

“Didn’t we all know? _____ is the one who organised it.” Surprisingly, this came from Taehyung.

“I’m stuffed.”

“With bullshit—?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Your voice is loud enough to silence the entire table and even causes a few other patrons to turn their heads in the direction of your table.

Jimin is blinking at you with wide eyes, as Taehyung only gapes at the decibel of your voice that he’s never heard from you before. Jungkook only presses himself against his seat, and subtly inches away from you.

But you turn your head towards him and shoot him a glare so venomous that he stiffens in position.

“Don’t you dare shift away from me, Jeon.” You warn threateningly.

Jungkook swallows, too stunned to move.

Then, you turn to face the two unblinking men.

“And you two,” You narrow your eyes at them menacingly, “I told you that I’d deal with this on my own so why are you the ones holding grudges?”

Jimin opens his mouth to respond, but Taehyung is nudging him with his elbows to shut up.

“I expected better from you!” You cry, “What are you guys, five? Or is that how many brain cells you have combined?” You scowl. They’re still blinking at you when you continue to fume. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s less than that because at the rate you’re acting I’m beginning to think that this fork better conversational skills than the three of you.” You hold up your utensil for good measure and the boys can only blink at you.

The last part is directed to everyone, and Jungkook can only listen to you rant as he presses himself against his seat.

“I just wanted to hang out like usual.” You flutter your eyes shut in annoyance, “I asked for one day—one day!” You exclaim, “Just to be with you guys because we haven’t done that in forever. And you couldn’t push aside whatever hostility you have towards Jungkook for this?”

You sound so disappointed, and your voice subdues out into a whisper when you glance at the table. Jimin and Taehyung had the decency to look guilty and apologetic when they realise that you were actually serious about it. Because rarely have you ever blown up, if not—ever.

“_____, we’re sorry—” Jimin begins.

“Are you?” You snap irritatedly, “I told you that I didn’t want to make things complicated and here you guys are—doing exactly that. I resolved whatever I had to with Jungkook, and let’s not pretend like he was the only one at fault here. The two of you are opening a closed book and it’s unnecessary. I just wanted to hang out with you guys and laugh about our balding lecturers, is that so much to ask for?”

“I think—” Jungkook begins, feeling slightly more confident to speak up after you’ve somewhat defended him, but the way you snap your head to him to send him a blazing look shut him up immediately.

“And don’t think you’re off the hook either,” You seethe, “Jimin and Taehyung have every right to be mad but they don’t have the right to ruin the atmosphere of our hangout right now. That doesn’t change the fact that you messed up.”

Your words are sharp, and his eyes widen when you scold him. It oddly feels like the three men were being lectured by a parent, and it’s not far off because you’ve always been the level headed one amongst the four of you anyway.

“I’m sorry, ____.” Jimin offers apologetically, but your ears are flushed for obvious reasons before you mutter an excuse to head to the bathroom.

When you storm off, the three men stare at each other unblinking for a few seconds before Taehyung breaks the silence.

“Listen,” He sighs, “Clearly, Jimin and I are pissed.”

Jungkook’s eye twitches, that’s an understatement.

“But, we have a right to be—like she said,” Taehyung continues. Jungkook doesn’t argue there, “But we care about her as much as you do, and we don’t want her to feel any more disappointed than what she had to feel for the past month. So we’ll drop it.”

“Why are you speaking on behalf of the both of you because I’m pretty sure hyung is staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath, off-put by Jimin’s unwavering glare.

“He’s not far off.” Jimin retorts, then he sighs, relaxing his features ever so slightly to look at Jungkook with an expression much softer than what he’s received so far. “I’m disappointed in you, and I probably will be for a very long time. But … you’re still my best friend, and even if I feel like knocking you into every available surface I’m willing to push that desire aside if it means we can make ____ happy.”

Jungkook blinks.

“I …” He croaks, “I’m sorry, to the both of you. I messed up and … I really regret it.”

Taehyung offers a small smile, “You don’t have to apologise to us. It’s ___—”

“Yeah, I know.” He clears his throat. “But the two of you are my friends too and you’ve done nothing but guide me even if I acted like it annoyed me most of the times; I really appreciated the things you told me, even if I blatantly went against it.”

Jimin purses his lips, staring hard at the boy.

“I want us to be okay too, as much as I patched things up with her; you guys are my best friends as well,” Jungkook says softly.

“If ____ forgives you then …” Jimin mutters, though Jungkook can tell it comes from a good place. “I guess I can work with that.”

It’s something, Jungkook thinks.

But then you’re still not back and the three men look at each other in worry.

“I’ll go get her,” Jungkook declares, but before he can push himself up—Taehyung is stopping him with a hand and a cock of his head.

“I’ll do it.”

And when he leaves to get you, Jungkook and Jimin are left in a mini stare off, the awkward atmosphere still tense enough. Not until Jimin gestures to his face.

“Your cheek …”

Jungkook sighs.

“You know there are people who need to pee too, right?” Taehyung hums outside the cubicle. He’s sure you’re in there because he spots your sneakers through the slit, and he’s lucky enough he can because he wasn’t sure how else he’d explain him leaning outside a stall while he talks to it.

You stay silent, dabbing at your eyes with the tissue you brought in. You feel a little stupid for crying about it but you hated the atmosphere out there. It was weird and awkward and the four of you never had moments like that. You always had things to talk about or even just to laugh at each other. The silence and glares were suffocating, and you couldn’t help but feel like it was all your fault.

“I’m going to piss on the floor if you don’t open the door.” Taehyung threatens in a bored tone.

You sniff, loud enough for him to hear as you roll your eyes at his ultimatum.

“Don’t think I won’t do it, _____.” He warns, and you hear fabric rustling that has your eyes widening.

“Don’t pee on the damn floor!” You hiss.

“Then open the door.” Taehyung retorts smartly.

You scowl, glancing into the mirror one last time to ensure that your eyes weren’t as red as you hoped they to be. It comes to no avail because your eyes are puffy enough to tell him that you’ve been crying, and you knew that you couldn’t lie your way through it.

“I’m giving you five more seconds,” He calls, “Five … four … three … two—I’m about to piss—!”

You unlock the door and pull it open, and greet Taehyung with a vehement glare of your own as he smiles down at you, but only for a bit until he notices the puffiness of your eyes and the pout of your lips.

“You know it’s kind of depressing if you lock yourself up in the cubicle of a diner to cry.” He says softly, arms reaching out to bring you into an embrace.

You don’t fight him, even if you don’t make an effort to hug him back. You were sulking.

“Well that’s what happens when your best friends are acting like assholes.” You snap back in a sniffle.

He sighs, patting your head gently as he forces your arm around his waist; shooting you a stern glare that you roll your eyes at.

“You know we’re looking out for you.” He chides gently, and you feel very much like a petulant child when you huff at his response.

“I just wanted to hang out with you guys without things being weird.” You mumble against his chest.

“I know.” He hums.

“But you had to make it weird.” You complain. “What are you? A social justice warrior? I told you I could deal with it on my own.”

Taehyung chuckles, squeezing you a little tighter as you scowl into his shirt. You knew you were being a little dramatic but you didn’t want the dynamics of the group to shift just because of the situation you got yourself in with Jungkook. Even if you were in love with him and he was … in love with you. Your friendship with the three of them meant the absolute world to you.

“I’m sorry,” He apologises, pulling away slightly to look at you with sincere eyes.

You look away and sulk.

He sighs, knowing that it would be much harder to get you to feel better than just an apology.

“Look, I’ll lay it off and I’ll make sure Jimin doesn’t overstep either. Promise.” He offers with a smile.

You look at him with tentative eyes as you raise a brow at him.

“Isn’t Jimin with Kook right now?”

Taehyung opens his mouths, then closes, before he wraps an arm around your shoulder to tug you closer into his grasp.

“After this. I make no promises that Jimin hasn’t caused bodily harm on Jungkook in the meantime.” He says.

You snort, picturing Jungkook cowering or at least avoiding Jimin’s eyes now that they were alone. You knew that the bruise on Jungkook’s cheek was Jimin’s doing, and while you already talked his ear off for that, you appreciated the gesture. Even if it did look like it hurt like a bitch.

“I just want things to go back to normal.” You mumble, fiddling with your thumbs.

Taehyung nods his head and sighs.

“It will. We’re okay. You’re okay. We’ll be okay.” He comforts you with a soothing tone.

You nibble on your lips, “I guess …”

Taehyung stops in his tracks as he was about to bring you back out when you mumble those words so softly he nearly misses them.

“You guess …? Is there something—?”

“I just,” You sigh, “Jungkook and I spoke and we … cleared things up. But it’s still … it still sucks.” You finish lamely.

Taehyung gives you a sad smile before turning you around so that he can grab onto your shoulders.

“What he said doesn’t define you. And I know for a fact that he’s beating himself up over it. It sucks because he’s your best friend and he was the one that said those things to you. But none of that is true because you’re the most interesting, smart and best girl I know.” He smiles at you, even when you flush and look away.

“Stop …” You whine, avoiding his gaze and you hear him chuckle.

“Jungkook’s dumb. He’s our friend, but he’s dumb.” Taehyung snickers.

You roll your eyes but a smile teases the corner of your lips.

“It’s not just that …” You mumble softly, pink dusting your cheeks. “I told him that I was in love with him.”

At this, Taehyung quite literally chokes on his breath.

“You—what?!”

You scowl, “God, you don’t have to be so loud.” You thwack his chest and even as he winces he still has a stupefied expression on his face.

“You … love … what?” He blinks, “What the hell did I miss? Does anyone else know? When did this happen?”

You huff, “Look, that isn’t … important. Not now, at least. I told him that I needed time to sort things out myself and … yeah.” You murmur softly.

You know Taehyung wants to press further, but he doesn’t do that because your demeanour says to drop it. He sighs, pulling you into his embrace once more before he gives you an easy smile.

“Take all the time you need, okay?” He reassures you softly, and somehow it does feel a little better.

“Were the extra ten laps really necessary?” Jungkook pants, hands falling onto his knees just as he completes the last God forsaken round.

“I don’t know. Were they?” Namjoon hums, opting to skim over Jungkook’s hunched figure with a shrug.

“You’re holding a grudge on me,” Jungkook says in a tone of disbelief.

Namjoon shoots the younger boy an unimpressed look.

“Am I?” He returns, and Jungkook already feels the incoming headache approaching.

“Look, I get Jimin and Tae because the two would literally die for her … but you?” Jungkook exasperates.

Namjoon sighs, clicking the pen in his grasp before shoving it into his back pockets. By no means was Namjoon unnecessarily intimidating, because besides the fact that he towered over most people and frequented the gym as his second home; he was a decent guy and great company.

That, and he never imposed his authority as the captain of the football team onto any of the footballers, or his peers, which made him all the more approachable and likeable. Jungkook had nothing against him, but after finding out that he too had feelings for you; he’s bound to view the older boy differently.

“Jungkook, I already told you—you’re my friend and I like you.” He deadpans, “But you’re also an idiot so you’ll pay for being one. It’s really that simple.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “And this has nothing to do with your feelings for her?”

Namjoon snorts, waving him off as the rest of the footballers come pooling out of the changing rooms.

“I think you’re projecting a little,” He snickers and ignores the look of disbelief that covers Jungkook’s face when the footballers start gathering around the two.

“He made you run an extra lap?” Jimin snickers.

Namjoon hears this and smiles, “Ten.” He corrects.

Taehyung lets out a low whistle before patting his sullen-looking younger friend on the back while he scowls. Jungkook couldn’t say anything because he’s aware enough to know that his mouth was the one thing that got him into most of the trouble he’s ever got himself into. So he swallows his pride and wipes his sweat, even pretends to smile tightly at Jeonghan when he asks why.

The practice is brutal, well; for Jungkook at least.

Jungkook knew that Namjoon was a strict but reasonable person by nature; and to a certain extent, petty. The only reason he knew was because of his feelings for you and that irked him. But he didn’t know how far Namjoon was willing to go just to prove a point, to you or to Jungkook; he wasn’t quite sure.

But Jungkook’s pride gets the better of him when he waves off concerned stares from the rest of his members. Even Jimin looked mildly worried when Jungkook was required to do an extra circuit or two just because his form looked ‘off’.

Jungkook’s form hadn’t looked off since high school.

And that’s how you find him, splayed out on the ground as he pants for air and stares up at the sky as if he was waiting for God to pick him up.

“Why are you on the ground?” He hears you before he sees you.

And when he opens his eyes, it’s like he’s seeing an angel. He’s half-convinced that he’s died and gone to heaven because your confused face is peering down at him from above.

“I think I’m dead.” He wheezes.

You roll your eyes, immediately squatting next to him before you shuffle through your bag to take something out.

Jungkook can’t even be bothered to ask what it was, but only when you press the object against his forehead and he feels the cool touch of a cold bottle; he ironically melts into the feeling.

“Here.” You thrust the bottle to him.

“God I lo—” Jungkook’s out of it, but not that out of it to let it slip.

You seem to notice, and your ears flush at the near slip-up. Jungkook clears his throat before attempting to sit up, head spinning at the suddenness of his actions.

“Thank you,” He rectifies his mistake immediately, offering you a meek smile.

The sheepish smile you return him with is enough. And he misses you even if you’re right in front of him; because things had been off for so long and having you back … even if you weren’t his, felt better than ever.

But Jungkook’s never pined for anyone else besides you, and it’s tiring. Yet, when you smile at him it feels like it’s worth it.

“Are you checking up on the corpse?” A voice interrupts Jungkook’s dazed expression when he stares at you for a second too long.

He turns his head and sees the cause of the numbness in his legs.

Namjoon is all smiles when he jogs over, Jimin and Taehyung following closely behind as they snicker at the interaction.

“You didn’t have to be so mean.” You pout up at the taller man, standing up as you only reach the height of his shoulders. It would’ve been cute to Jungkook if Namjoon didn’t look so taken with you.

“Someone’s gotta take care of things for you,” He jokes, ruffling your hair.

Things have been going better enough for people to poke fun at Jungkook, and even if he flushes at any mention of what happened—he knows that he’s got to deal with the consequences.

He didn’t know that the extra touchiness from Namjoon’s end was one of them.

“Never thought I’d see the day the great Jeon fall.” Jimin snorts.

You raise an eyebrow.

“What?” He shrugs, “He’s always telling us hyungs that he could one-up all of us with his eyes closed.”

Taehyung nods while Namjoon only chuckles at the statement.

“Not saying that you deserve it but you deserve it, man.” Taehyung laments.

Jungkook scowls from where he sits on the grass, but you’re nice as always when you reach a hand out for him to grab.

He stares at it, struck again by your kindness. And when he looks up the evening sunset flares behind you and you looked like a painting in a museum.

“Wow.” Jungkook blurts.

He didn’t mean to, and everyone caught on his stupefied expression.

“All right,” Namjoon rolls his eyes, tugging Jungkook up himself as the younger boy scowls at the moment being ruined. “Up, loverboy.”

You huff, turning on your heels to hide the way your cheeks had turned red when you noticed Jungkook’s gaze lingering longer than it should.

Taehyung and Jimin shoot each other a look, one that goes missing from you and the two other men. In fact, Jungkook shoots Namjoon a glare that he blissfully ignores in spite of trailing behind you, taking advantage of the fact that Jungkook’s legs are too wobbly to catch up.

“What the—?”

“Hurry up, Jeon. Yena’s waiting and you know how she gets when people are late!” Namjoon calls over his shoulder, before offering you a dimpled grin and grabbing your bag to alleviate the strain on your shoulder.

Jungkook knows that things are better and he’s damn grateful he’s able to be around you without watching over his words anymore. But the childish and immature side of him turns green when he sees the shy smile you return Namjoon.

He knows, that you feel the same way. But somehow his mind overthinks it and asks: what if?

“You look constipated,” Taehyung mumbles off-handedly, clasping a hand to his back when Jungkook stays rooted in position.

“Deserved,” Jimin says.

Jungkook scowls, dejectedly following close by as the five of you walk out of the field.

“That was absolutely uncomfortable.” Yena declares the moment she steps foot into your apartment.

You scowl.

“It wasn’t that bad …” You mumble.

Yena flops herself onto your couch and raises an eyebrow as if to say really.

“Listen I know you and Jeon exchanged vows and a dowry the other day but Namjoon is definitely a close contender. I swear I saw him whipping out a pen mid-meal to write you a love poem.”

You groan, flopping face forward as you stuff your scream into your cushion.

“Why me?” You cry.

You can feel Yena rolling her eyes behind you.

“Oh boo-hoo, your life is so hard. Two hot beefy men are in love with you, wow—things must be so difficult. Would you like a free pass in a therapy session?” She mocks pouts at you when you lift your head to glare up at her.

“They are not …” You remember what Jungkook said and you clear your throat, “… Namjoon isn’t …”

Yena scoffs.

“Well he’s definitely breaking ten different traffic laws to get there.” She retorts.

You slump back into your couch as you stare up at the ceiling.

“I thought things would get better.”

Yena shuffles until she’s settled comfortably next to you, “Are things … not?” She asks carefully.

You sigh, fiddling with the edge of your cushion.

“They are, don’t get me wrong.” You say softly, “It’s just that … I know Joon has feelings for me, and I know … I mean Jungkook is Jungkook,” You explain lamely and Yena awaits your continuation patiently. “I’m not stupid. I’m pretty sure they’re both aware of their feelings, and Jimin and Taehyung are just the bystanders witnessing shit hit the fan. And I’m … well, I’m there.”

“You mean you’re the main character.” She interjects.

You scowl, chucking the cushion at her as she dodges with a cackle.

“Things are better but they’re still weird.” You mumble.

Yena sighs, nodding understandingly as she pats your head softly.

“But you said you needed time, right? To figure things out on your own?” She asks.

You nod your head.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “I do. I mean, I know what I feel and I’ve felt this way for a long time. The only person I’ve ever … loved … is Jungkook. But I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of proximity and familiarity or because he was the only person that I’ve ever … you know.” You gesture your hands ambiguously but Yena gets the point.

“I understand.” She nods, “But things won’t be easy, not at first at least. It’s weird, I know. Going from your best friend to a potential lover, a stranger to a man who’s willing to put his star quarterback on the line and two best friends who are well—they’ve always been overbearing but they’re there.” She ends with a roll of her eyes.

Your face crumbles, “Why are things so complicated?” You cry, leaning onto her shoulder as she sighs and rubs a finger over your shoulder.

“You’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t owe anyone anything, remember that okay?” She hums softly.

“Just because you stare at them long enough doesn’t mean you suddenly get telepathic abilities.” Jimin snorts.

It’s been fifteen minutes since Jungkook’s stepped into the library, courtesy of Jimin who wanted to study for an upcoming test with him. It’s a step towards mending their friendship, and Jungkook is immensely grateful; so he didn’t think twice before responding to Jimin that he’d be their stat.

But he remembers that Jimin is cunning, not maliciously, but very impertinently. He was smart and sly all at once, and while he didn’t explicitly state anything—the timing seemed all too perfect for it to be purely a coincidence.

“Not staring,” Jungkook mutters.

Yet, his eyes remain trained on your figure.

Jungkook’s always had issues with envy, ever since he was younger. If someone made the cut before he did, he’d internally curse them out in his head and work ten times as hard out of spite. It’s somewhat toxic, but it allowed him to outdo himself every single time he felt that familiar green eyes emotion. He’s also no stranger to jealousy, and he’s remembered feeling the very same feeling he’s feeling now multiple times throughout his life, all for similar reasons.

You.

It wasn’t just because you were great at everything you did, excelling in your academics and extra-curricular, making students and superiors around you impressed with your work ethic. You were never ordinary; in fact, all you did in your life was outdo yourself in every single aspect and Jungkook always admired and envied that. It always made him feel like you were in two different worlds, where Jungkook had to work twice as hard compared to anyone else to achieve peak efficiency while you seemed to breeze by the things that you did.

Even when the two of you were in high school, he’d always fantasise what it would be like to be with you, to kiss you and to hold your hand or call you his. But he’s never thought you’d ever see him that way because all you’ve ever alluded to was him being nothing but a friend, a younger boy who had the stars in his eyes. If only you knew that it was a reflection of your face.

And the feeling is all too familiar, even when he first came to college and remembered seeing you interact with different guys that all seemed like they were taken with you. How could they not be? You were soft, sweet, kind and understanding—never the type to impose yourself or make others feel uncomfortable. You were a perfect combination of soft and relentless, the mixture of your best qualities and it seemed like Jungkook wasn’t the only person who saw that.

And he knew, he knew that you’d never lie to him, explicitly at least, or about things that mattered. So he doesn’t count your feelings, but it’s frustrating to have you right there but not at all. Especially when he recognises the look on Namjoon’s face intimately when he looks at you, bodies pressed adjacently in a booth in the library.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Jungkook scowls.

Jimin blinks innocently at his friend before a cheeky smile appears on his face, his hands pausing in between the sheets of his textbook.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He feigns innocence.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, further slumping in his chair before he forces himself to tear his wandering eyes away from you.

“What a way to rekindle a friendship …” He mutters dryly.

Jimin stares at Jungkook pointedly, “Hey, the library is open to all students. Don’t go pointing fingers at me.”

“Jimin, I literally suggested we head to an overnight cafe and you said if I wanted to fix us then I had to listen to you,” Jungkook says dryly, “And I quote—or else.”

“Okay, maybe I may have been projecting a little—”

“Jimin …” He groans.

“But look, it’s not the end of the world so don’t go ahead and get your panties in a twist, all right?” Jimin snorts, “Just 'cause she’s over there with Mr Beefy doesn’t mean you’re out of the race. Let’s just say you’re sporting a broken foot.”

Jungkook only responds with a bland look.

“That doesn’t—”

“—and a dislocated knee. Maybe a torn hamstring?” Jimin ponders like the details actually mattered. “Yeah, a pulled hamstring. A torn ACL too for a kick. And you know who’s fault all of that was?”

Jungkook sighs, “Yes, Jimin, I know. It’s me—”

“No. It’s me. Because I’m planning on dragging this out as far as I can even if you and she made amends. You fucked with someone I cared about and this is how I hold you accountable. I’m going to draw out every lone interaction she shares with Joon and make you watch it like the porn you consume in an unhealthy amount. I’ll make it so that all you’ll see when you close your eyes is the way hyung looks at her and how you can’t do anything but watch.”

Jimin says all of that in one go and with an unblinking stare. If Jimin was looking for a reaction, he definitely got one because Jungkook is gawking at him with a disturbed expression at how utterly menacing he looks.

“You’re fucking terrifying,” He exhales.

“And you’re a little shit,” Jimin returns with a huff. His eyes dart behind Jungkook for a second before his smile is expression is replaced with an evil grin, “Oh, look at that. He’s brushing her hair back—how cute.” He coos.

Jungkook groans, sinking into his chair when Jimin snickers.

624 notes · View notes

writer-akihiko · 3 years

Note

Hello, so this is my first request !!

Can I have an mc who is always clumsy with Arthur, Theo and Leonardo from IkemenVampire please :D

Thank you very much 🙏🏽

Clumsy!MC: Arthur, Theo + Leonardo

Thank you for the fluffy ask! It's nice to have fluffy asks before I bring out the typical yandere and angst for me... Warning: For Leonardo's scenario, there is name calling towards the Reader

Arthur Conan Doyle

Arthur isn't someone to tease you for being clumsy, but it impressed him how you managed to somehow be clumsy at your every waking moment

He finds himself following you around, finding the right moments to rescue you moments before you fall

Even if it weren't for your sake, he'd help you out when setting the table so you got less nervous about serving yourself

He'd make excuses for you when Sebastian would show the slightest annoyance to you. With Arthur, you felt as much more confidence in what you did, since he was

He had finally invited the woman of his affections out on an official date, marking the beginning of your relationship. Considering that it was an outdoor picnic, Vic couldn't help but scramble along, following you at your legs as if to warn you of any trip hazards.

With an outstretched hand, Arthur guided you to the hill of your date location, "I'd be lying if it weren't tempting for me to carry you around in my arms, love. Can't have you trip and ruin the outfit you put your time and effort in, after all~"

The picnic started out well, albeit Vic was quick to get restless, hopping away in pursuit of a butterfly. Without a word, you picked up your skirts, chasing after Vic. In your chase, you had gotten close enough to Vic but tripped over your own feet in an attempt to not step on the tiny dog. The weight of your body leaned to one side, as you felt the pull to the ground-

"Oof!" Your head hit a hard chest, immediately wincing at the impact.

"Love, I anticipated in the near future that we would be entangled, but surely not in public like this…" Arthur huffed out, sitting up straight with you in your arms. The enthusiastic Vic was quick to stop in his tracks, bounding over to you and Arthur.

With Arthur's arm wrapped around your waist, he inched closer to your face, pressing a warm kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering and ghosting your face for just a moment, before pulling away. "I couldn't help it… you're simply too kissable, love."

Theodorus Van Gogh

Initially, he'd shamelessly laugh at your clumsy moments, where it'd be mixing up flavourings or overpouring the tea

You'd pout at him, taunting him to do a better job. Of course he pulls it off flawlessly, so it turned into a banter of back and forth between you and Theo

He'd always say something among the line of tripping over your paws, but somehow he'd always look out for you before disaster ever struck

Theo doesn't mind that you were constantly clumsy. It was no surprise that he'd stay next to you… It was as if he was always watching over your shoulder…

Theo was eager to see how much you improved with your tea serving skills. Considering that Comte had asked you for a favour, you insisted on Theo being your practice partner. King was also happy to help, with him acting as your assistance to open the door when you'd serve the dishes.

You were careful with your steps, making sure to serve tea in proper fashion, pouring tea for Theo. "How many sugar cubes, Sir?"

He hummed, taking attention to the effort you put in. Everything went great so far, which, once he thought about it was a little suspicious… Nonetheless, he was pleased with how far you'd come. It made him a little regretful that he treated you in such a way, but he was already planning a date in his head as a reward for his sweet Hondje…

"Seven, please."

You couldn't help but break your serious demeanour. For as much as Theo would tease you about your clumsiness, it was the rare occasions that you would get to tease him back about his sweet tooth.

As you were about to reach for the sugar cubes, King was oh so kind to sniff up your heels, thinking you were about to give him a treat. The sudden feeling of a cold nose made you jump. You felt your butt land on someone, and that someone was Theo, who caught you just in time.

"My silly Hondje, were you actually clumsy or were you eager to be on my lap?"

You squirmed in Theo's lap, but to your surprise, he wouldn't let go of your waist. His grin drew you in, as you listened to what he had to say. "I don't see why you have to leave yet. Your reward was to be a date in the town, but my clumsy Hondje took the liberty of rewarding herself already~" And that was when you felt a soft peck on your forehead…

Leonardo Da Vinci

He was not one to comment on your clumsy behaviour, after all, it'd be hypocritical of him to do so considering he was a slob

At first, he didn't consider you to be clumsy since you were tripping and toppling over objects in his room, which he assumed was his fault anyway

It was then he noticed Sebastian's ever much frustrations with you during breakfast hour, and he realised Sebastian paired you both up for a reason…

He never really minded your behaviour afterwards, but that doesn't mean he ignored you. In fact, he was more attentive to you, keeping an eye on you just in case… that somehow the attentiveness turned into affection

Leo took the liberty to change your outing into a date instead, as you ran your errands. This time however, the rush from one shop to another didn't seem so obvious, as if the world slowed down around you and Leonardo. With Leonardo's amiable personality, it was a breeze to visit the crevices of the town, even places you had never heard of before.

It was then the moment you realised it was time to head to the mens' wear. Leonardo was about to lead you in as he always did, with you strung on his arm, but he noticed your hesitance. "What is it cara mia?"

"I… The last time I came to send Comte's coat, I spilled someone's shoe shine on the floor. Another gentleman scolded me, but I helped the shopkeeper clean up!" You said, explaining that the shopkeeper didn't mind the accident since you were Comte's assistant.

"Cara mia… the man who got upset at you… he's no gentleman."

Despite your pleas not to, Leonardo insisted on protecting you. He was quick to notice the noble who probably scolded you, judging by the sour face as he gave you. The shopkeeper was quick to hand you over the coat you needed, but of course, nothing could be said about the way the noble was quick to criticise you.

"So Miss Stupid brought a bodyguard this t-"

"Stai zitto, bastardo…" Leonardo huffed, blowing on his fist after delivering a well-deserved punch. He quickly apologised for the scene, escorting you out of the shop.

Considering the amount of things you had to get, it was safer to go back by carriage. As Leonardo closed the door behind you, he brushed your hair aside, peppering a few kisses on your cheek to cheer you up. "Now, don't look so sad, cara mia. No one gets to insult you like that… You are the smartest woman I know, even if you are a little clumsy~"

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #ikevamp theodorus van gogh #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp arthur x reader #ikevamp theo x reader #ikevamp leo x reader #ikevamp arthur conan doyle #ikevamp leonardo da vinci

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leatherednlace · 3 years

Text

Missed Call

Steve Rogers x Male reader

Tags - Angst, Mentions of past, Mentions of Trauma, Fluff, Steve being big G A Y, Kissing, Implied smut, Waking up to each other.

Steve never answers his calls, but you couldn’t blame him, he was saving the world…but what if your missed call reaches Steve?

A/N - This is literally Steve being a hopeless romantic…enjoy! (Also i do apologise if there are any spelling mistakes)

Taglist - @softboy5393 @superfanficnatural @wonder-cole @flamencodiva @myybebe

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You listened to the rain pelt against the large window’s of your room. Watching the droplets cascade into singular lines conjoining at the bottom of the glass.

You hadn’t been able to sleep, not since yesterday night when the idea had come to you. It wasn’t easy living across from steve, each night for the past several years you’ve known him, nothing but ravishing thoughts plagued your mind.

you yearned for him…

The thoughts of waking up to his dimpled smile every morning, those large arms protecting you from everything and anything, the jokes you would share about your other friends.

These thoughts are what urged you to dial his number. Blinking, you looked down, now focused on your unlocked phone. Steve happened to be one of the few contacts you had, seeing his name had your heart skipping beats.

Your thumb hovered over the “call” botton as if you were tempted to flick the screen up and completely abandon ship. You shook your head, way to many thoughts…voices telling you no, that this is bad, you shouldn’t do this…

Your thumb twitched forwards, pressing the button, you were now calling him. Placing the phone to your ear you heard the usual dialling sound which had your body grimacing, chills ran down your spine at the thought of actually telling Steve how you really felt.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, the phone shaking in your unsteady hand.

“You have reached voicemail, please dial one to leave a message after the tone”. The common bleep sounded out into the room. You stilled, seconds going by in which you were silent, lips sealed.

You couldn’t do it…you just couldn’t. You hear the answer machine decline as you throw the phone away out of your reach. Overwhelmed you bury yourself in your blankets hoping to never ever do something like that again…you got your hopes up.

You couldn’t help but feel the twang of pain deep down in your stomach, you really did want Steve in every way possible.

——————————

Steve hadn’t had much time to himself lately, his life as a super soldier was nothing but busy. Working with the avengers left a hole in his life, something he wasn’t sure he could ever fill.

Walking into the doors of the tower, Steve said his goodbyes to his teammates, stalking towards the elevator near the entrance.

He smiled as he watched Bucky, Sam and the others take the stairs, clearly Steve had a rough day and he wanted nothing more then to sink into his mattress and sleep away the pain of…practically everything.

Nothing has been the same since the snap, since he lost Bucky…then you…but you were okay both now, safe and sound, you were probably sleeping right now which only had Steve faintly smiling at the peaceful thought.

He sighed, one of his fingers pressing the “75th” button. He raised his eyebrows always forgetting how tall the building actually is, but it wasn’t so bad living across you it had it’s up’s…many up’s.

You helped fill this “hole” he had ever since the snap, the pain he once felt has subsided over the years, he wanted nothing more then to tell you how he really felt about you…

His fingers fidgeted around with his belt, looping around the leather material, awaiting the lift to finally stop so he could just go to sleep.

It takes a few minutes to reach the floor he lived on, but as soon as the door’s opened he walked quickly to his apartment entrance, turning the golden handle he walked in, leaving his thoughts at the door.

——————————

He had taken a shower, now wearing loose sweat pants and a fitted grey t-shirt. The pillows on the couch supported his aching back as he settled into the softness, head falling back as he lays, still.

His fingers fidgeted as he bore his eyes into the ceiling trying to relax and sleep away the soreness of his body and the trauma is had received this past week.

Glancing over at the coffee table he notices the screen of his phone light up in the dark living room. One of his arms reach out to grab it, grasping the phone and bringing it closer to his face.

He never usually received calls, maybe from Bucky time to time to discuss the missions they had together, but hardly ever from you.

His heartbeat began to pick up…is it important? It took seconds to make his mind up, legs already taking him to the door, opening it he stepped out in the vacant hallway, eyes set on your door directly across from him.

He walks slowly as if he was regretting his choice already, but he carries on, now standing infront of it he sighs quietly, his hand coming up to bang his knuckles on the door, knocking.

——————————

Your met with a sincere smile.

He looked tired, your own eyes settling on his features. “S-Steve” you stutter, shocked to see him at your door so late…

His eyebrows furrow knowing you were a little confused. “I received a missed call from you, just thought I’d check in” his deep new york accent like music to your ears, it relaxed you slightly, now remembering the reason he was at your door.

You couldn’t say it…could you? You couldn’t admit how you feel about him, right now, right here…

“I-I” before you could say anything his lips were on your, his beard tickling your upper lip and and cheeks, forcing you backwards into your apartment and slamming the door shut with his foot.

——————————

You awake to a pair of strong arms wrapped around your body, holding you close to his chest. You turn slightly to be met with that oh so sweet smile.

“Morning” you peck him in on the lips, you had been dreaming of this day for most of the time you’ve known Steve, here you were, wrapped up in his arms.

“Morning sweetheart” he mumbles back with a jolly yet groggy tone, still half asleep. But to Steve’s surprise that doesn’t stop your hand from prevailing down towards his crotch.

“Can the oldman handle some early morning activities?” You sass, Steve chuckling, nodding in the process. His hands snaking around your waist to yank at your boxers.

“The question is…are you ready?”

#x male reader #male reader #steve rogers x male reader #nomad!steve #implied smut #fluff

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