#i did my best to make my tone absolutely frigid when i said ''sorry?'' like i'd misheard him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

musical-shit-show · 2 years

Text

showed up just in time

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #12 (“don’t move, i’ll be right there.”), #35 (“i’d be lying if i said i didn’t miss you.”) and #82 (“you’re really warm. it’s nice.”) from Prompt List 2 with a little bit of “Afterglow” and “This Love” by Taylor Swift in there somewhere

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunkenness, vomiting (sorry), mild angst, cursing, reader is a ball of anxiety, fluff at the end

Word Count: 3,550

Author’s Note: This took me a LONG time but I’m so glad that I’m writing for Dewey again. I know it’s not as popular as my BJ one shots (and don’t worry, I will be continuing to write those as well to fill the sandworm-sized hole in my heart after the Broadway production closes) but I think it’s important to give Dewey a little bit of love every once and a while. As always, if you like these kinds of fics, please like/comment/reblog and check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you want to submit a request! Thanks to everyone who has interacted with my posts so far; it really does mean a lot. Happy reading and Merry Christmas!

Don’t call him.

Do not call him.

Under no circumstances should you be calling him.

Your alcohol-addled brain managed to scream at you as your eyes flickered over your ex’s contact photo. You knew it wasn’t the smartest decision, but what other choice did you have?

The phrase ‘absolutely shit-faced’ rang in your head. Despite the prep work—eating a sizable meal beforehand, drinking water, strictly adhering to the liquor before beer rule—the world around you was tipping on its axis, the ground feeling more precarious with each passing second.

Maybe it was the lemon drop shots. It was always the lemon drop shots.

To make matters worse, you’d barely know where you were sober, let alone when you were on the verge of a blackout. Your friends, who were even drunker than you were at that point, had lost you somewhere along the way on your yearly holiday bar crawl. It wasn’t exactly their fault; the group was incredibly intoxicated, and you tended to wander.

You wouldn’t have been in this predicament if you and Dewey hadn’t broken up only weeks before. More accurately, you wouldn’t have been in this predicament if you hadn’t broken up with him when your brain decided to concoct a delightful cocktail of abandonment issues and anxiety. That was always your M.O. in relationships; duck and run before you could get your heart broken.

But it was cold. And dark. And in your impaired state of mind, you had no one else to turn to.

So, there you were, standing on a deserted sidewalk, in the frigid air, calling the last person in the whole city who wanted to see or hear from you.

After three agonizing rings, a hesitant voice answered.

“Did, uh, you mean to call me?”

“Dew,” you breathed, “Thank god. Uh—I need you. I mean, I’m out and lost and I just—”

“You’re drunk.” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but was instead tinged with concern.

You sighed heavily, leaning up against the brick wall of the convenience store that inhabited the street corner where you stood. You tried desperately to steady your breathing as a wave of nausea approached.

“Yes. I am,” you said, trying your best to not to sound too wasted, “And I’m sorry. I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t serious. But I’m by myself and fucked up and don’t have my fucking keys—”

“Don’t move, I’ll be right there.” Three beeps and the call ended abruptly. The thought of him actually coming to get you snapped you back into semi-coherence. You suddenly became acutely aware of your skimpy dress, disheveled hair, smudged makeup.

You looked like a fucking wreck.

Like lightning, you whipped open your camera app and frantically smoothed down your strands and smeared your eyeliner off with a few swipes of a finger. More presentable, but only slightly so. If your phone call wasn’t enough of an indication, your appearance would certainly let Dewey know that you were sloshed.

Even more jarring was the fact that time was now slowing. Your drinks were finally catching up to you as you felt a throbbing in your right temple. Luckily, you didn’t have much time to think about how drunk you were, because a familiar screech of tires made you blink your eyes open to see a mess of wavy brown hair poking out the window.

“Get in,” Dewey said urgently, surveying your immediate surroundings, “Please.” Without a word, you scurried behind the back of his van—which was somehow still miraculously running despite being at least two decades old—and got into the passenger seat.

You sat in a tense silence, the liquor still churning in your stomach as he slowed the vehicle to a stop at a red light. His fingers tapped frantically, rhythmically on the steering wheel.

“Thank you,” you breathed awkwardly, unsure of exactly what to say. Luckily, Dewey had plenty on his mind.

“Are you crazy?” he asked incredulously, exasperated as the light changed from red to green. He stepped on the gas pedal lightly despite his disgruntled demeanor, “You’re lucky some creep didn’t try to harass you or worse. And where are your friends? Or are you making a habit of going out by yourself these days?”

His words were harsh, but you could tell his nerves were rattled. You knew something like this would happen, but you didn’t really have any other option. Dewey was always protective of you, even with his reputation of being somewhat unreliable.

You blinked at him stupidly and sat back into the worn leather seat. “How did you know where I was?” you asked, completely ignoring his line of inquiry with your own, less imperative one. Dewey couldn’t help but let out a cautious chuckle.

“You uh, never stopped sharing your location with me,” he said sheepishly, “I guess it came in handy tonight, huh?” You nodded silently, your heart pounding in your chest. Pathetic didn’t even begin to describe how you felt. “You didn’t answer my questions.”

A heavy exhale left your throat dryly, fogging up the passenger side window, “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does fucking matter if you’re getting trashed alone at weird bars. I’m—I’d be worried about you.”

Crossing your arms like a petulant child, you couldn’t bear to look at Dewey. Since when was he the responsible one and you were the hot mess? “I didn’t go alone,” you muttered quietly, “I was with my friends, we all got hammered, and I wandered off.”

“God, I hate your friends sometimes,” he said with another dry laugh, “They should know to keep you on a leash whenever you drink.”

“Hey!” you punched him lightly in the arm as he turned onto his street, “You can’t be mean to me, I’m drunk.” Dewey shifted the van into park and unbuckled himself with a flourish.

“I can definitely be a little mean to you, seeing as you made me drive out in the freezing cold to get your plastered ass.” In a flash, he was opening the door and helping you out onto the pavement. You were finally getting your bearings when your heel caught the edge of the sidewalk and making you trip. Right into Dewey’s arms.

You looked him up and down, a sheepish smile on your face as he propped you back upright, “You’re really warm,” you remarked dumbly, his body heat radiating off of him as he hooked his arm around your waist to keep you from falling again, “It’s nice.”

“Jesus Christ, kid, you are drunk.”

Kid.

Maybe it was a reflex, but that single pet name made your stomach do a somersault, lemon drops be damned. As you neared his door, though, you felt your throat tighten, and it wasn’t due to your ex’s arm wrapped firmly around your body.

The alcohol was finally fighting back, and you knew you were vastly outmatched. “Uh, not to be that person, but…” You were choking out your words as Dewey swung his front door open, “I need to throw up. Like, now.”

He raised his eyebrows but his expression remained unsurprised. “Alright, superstar. Let’s go,” he walked you to the bathroom as quickly as he could without upsetting your stomach even more. He took one glance at your face, which had quickly turned a pallid green color.

Dewey couldn’t help but laugh at this situation. When the two of you were together, it was you who would take care of him nearly every time he’d have one too many at the Roadhouse. Having the tables turn like this, when you were broken up no less, made him feel like he was in an alternate universe.

As soon as you laid eyes on the door, you rushed into Dewey’s bathroom and slammed it shut. Your last three drinks emptied into the toilet bowl, the acid from your stomach burning your throat. The bitter taste made you gag even more, and in a few moments, your stomach felt void of all contents.

Hot tears of embarrassment fell onto the tile as you leaned up against the door. The cold floor was almost soothing as heat radiated throughout your body, but it did nothing to quell your distress. You jolted at the sound of a light knock behind you.

“Hey, you okay?” Dewey asked softly.

“Oh, just peachy.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. Want me to hold your hair back?” You could hear his smirk through the door. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself.

“Not to be gross, but, uh, there’s not much left,” you said queasily, “It’s the sewer system’s problem now.” You heard him let out a small laugh himself, which caused your throat to grow even drier. “I’ll be out in a sec, just gotta’ freshen up. Thank you, though. Again.”

A beat passed, but you knew he was still at the door. You clawed at the skin around your fingernails, a favorite nervous habit of yours. “Don’t mention it,” he said finally, “But you so owe me one.”

***

After some soap and water, a decent amount of mouthwash, and swiping a t-shirt and pajama pants that you had unfortunately left behind only weeks earlier, you exited ready to face the shame of barfing in your ex’s bathroom after one (or four) too many.

“I see you finally finished hanging your collection,” you said, gingerly sitting down on his couch. With his new tutoring gig, Dewey was able to afford a few more guitars, which were now prominently displayed on the wall. He emerged from the kitchen, a tall glass of water in one hand and two Advil in the other.

He sat down next to you, making a point to refrain from any physical contact, “Well, I’ve had some free time.” That stung. And Dewey knew it. Both of you wore your heart on your sleeve, which meant you could read each other extremely well. “Sorry.”

You shook your head, “No, uh, that’s…that’s warranted.” He handed you the pills and the water, and you couldn’t help but smile. “My savior.” Dewey let another smirk creep onto his face.

“Sorry, but could you just say that one more time, for the record?” he asked as he whipped out his phone, “I need some audio proof of that little nugget of gratitude.” You barked out a laugh and shoved his arm away from you. He smiled back at you, but you could so clearly see the sadness filling his eyes. “Uh, you sure you’re feeling alright? Sounded pretty gnarly in there for a while.”

Your face reddened again, but the look of genuine concern on Dewey’s face made your pulse slow. “Yeah,” you choked out, “I mean, I still feel a little woozy, but ten times better than before, I swear.” You threw the aspirin into your mouth and gulped down the majority of the water. “But just know, if you ever tell anyone about tonight, I will have to kill you.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” he crossed two fingers over his heart in mock reverence, “Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t a Boy Scout,” you deadpanned.

“Not in practice,” he dropped his regality and tucked his arms across his chest, “But I just know I could’ve crushed those nerds in knot tying.”

Even though you couldn’t stifle your laughter at his corniness, it was almost unbearable trying to bring yourself to look at him for more a few seconds. “So…how are the kids?” The best course of action was to change the subject. Dewey smiled softly and sat down next to you, making sure to leave a considerable distance.

“They’re, uh, good.” Now it was his turn to not meet your eye. “Little shitheads, but they somehow manage to blow me away a little more every day.” Your heart squeezed in your chest every time he mentioned the Horace Green kids. They all idolized him of course, and he adored them in return. “Need anything else? Another blanket? Glass of water? Maybe another round of tequila?”

You shuddered at the thought. “Absolutely not, Dew,” you giggled, despite your head still pounding. A pit formed in your stomach despite his lightheartedness; he was being so sweet after you had been so shitty. “I’m sorry. Again. I just, I don’t know when I became such a fucking trainwreck.”

Dewey sighed and grabbed a blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and placed it on your shoulders. “You’re not a fucking trainwreck. Everyone has bad nights. I just can’t believe you called me of all people. Pretty sure Ned still wouldn’t trust me to pick him up when he was wasted.”

“Well, he should,” you muttered softly, heartache radiating through your entire body, “You’re a good person, Dewey. A great person. I’m just, I’m sorry that—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off, “We don’t have to. I mean, it’s okay. I understand.” He took your palm gently into his, absentmindedly rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. The small act of gentleness almost made you uncontrollably sob.

And as time passed, you found it was becoming harder and harder to blame the alcohol for your actions. Your harrowing experience in the bathroom meant you were only sobering up faster, and you couldn’t stop yourself from spilling your guts to Dewey. Metaphorically, this time.

“No, I—I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, Dew,” you voice trembled as you finally met his gaze, which was partially hidden behind his mess of wavy brown hair. You couldn’t bear to look at his sad puppy dog eyes for long and involuntarily shrunk in on yourself, pulling his blanket closer to your chest. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You felt a few hot tears fall from your eyes, and quickly wiped them away regretfully. This whole night was like a long, agonizing parade of humiliation, and Dewey had a front row seat. And the worst part was, you were the one who had invited him to the shitshow.

Dewey closed the distance between you, his hand still grasping yours. You were now shoulder to shoulder, his stocky frame comforting you despite your discomfort. “Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow? I think we’d both agree you need some rest.” You nodded, like a sleepy child finally agreeing to an afternoon nap.

You rested your head on one of the throw pillows, the fleece feeling plush against your cheek. Dewey teetered on the balls of his feet for a moment, running a damp palm through his messy hair. You were already starting to drift off, your eyelids heavy with sleep. The final phase of a drunken stupor always seemed to result in you knocking out fairly quickly.

After quietly tidying up, he couldn’t help but smile at how fast you had drifted off to sleep as you laid peacefully on his sofa. Gently, he placed a light kiss on your forehead. You didn’t stir. Dewey’s affection for you still felt like second nature, even while you dreamt.

He missed you. He never stopped missing you, loving you, but it wasn’t his place to take you at your word when you weren’t sober.

No matter how much he wanted to believe you meant what you said, he couldn’t bear to have his heart broken again.

***

The sun was your mortal enemy. Every ray that peaked through Dewey’s curtains pierced you like a knife to the chest. You groaned angrily, grabbing one of the surprisingly soft pillows from behind your head and pulling it over your face. Maybe you would suffocate and save yourself from the indignity of the previous evening.

“Ah, I forgot how much of a morning person you were,” Dewey drawled dryly from the kitchen. You removed the pillow and sat up. He was sitting peacefully in his flannel pajama pants and Iron Maiden t-shirt. You remembered picking that shirt out for him at the thrift store.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, the aroma of coffee wafted towards you as Dewey sat on the couch with a mug in hand. “Like you’re one to talk,” you replied, still squinting, “I distinctly remember someone saying waking up before noon was ‘early’ in your book.”

“People change,” he shrugged. You muttered an unenthused “Yeah,” as you pulled the blanket towards your chest. You wished you were a magician so you could throw it over your head and disappear. “Here,” he held the mug in your direction, “splash of cream, one sugar.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, which had become chapped overnight. You hadn’t been nervous in front of Dewey since before you started dating, and now you could barely look at him. “Thanks,” you took it from him, your fingers brushing against his as you grabbed the handle. You instantly felt your heart flutter.

“I was a total idiot last night, wasn’t I?” You set the coffee down and threw your head into your hands. You did always have a flair for the dramatic. It’s one of the first things you and Dewey bonded over.

He nodded, “Oh yeah,” he winced, “How much do you remember?”

Your mind instantly flashed to an image of your body crouched over Dewey Finn’s toilet bowl.

“Enough.”

“So, you don’t remember sucker punching that chick who was flirting with me when I picked you up?”

“I did what?!” You knew you could get feisty when you drank, but you had zero recollection of talking to anyone when you left the bar, let alone fighting some random girl. Before you could ask any follow ups, Dewey burst into a fit of laughter, throwing his head back effortlessly. You blinked at him before narrowing your eyes in suspicion. “You little shit.”

“What, is it my fault that you’re so goddamn gullible?” he choked out between cackles. You stewed unconvincingly before cracking a smile. Rubbing a stray tear from his eye, he cleared his throat, “Or maybe it’s believable that you’d still fight for little ol’ me?”

You dug your fingernails into your palms, which had already begun to sweat. Dewey knew exactly what he was doing with that one. He always made it seem like he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but you knew he was much smarter than people gave him credit for. More perceptive, too. Which meant he could read you like the newest copy of Rolling Stone.

Now it was you who was shedding tears yet again. “Whoa hey, hey,” he said, immediately noticing your eyes glazing over, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have joked about that.” He inched closer to you, but you turned away, still guilt-sick from the events of the past 12 hours.

“No, Dew, the thing is…you’re right,” you said with a sniff, a tremor overtaking your voice, “I would’ve. I would’ve fought for you. I should’ve. But I was fighting against myself. And we all know what a losing battle that can be.”

Dewey shifted on the couch restlessly, hesitant to try and console you; no matter how much he wanted to grab your hand, tell you it was alright, that you could work it out, he knew that he needed to hear you out first.

“I meant what I said last night,” you murmured, finally able to meet his gaze, “I miss you. A lot. I think about you all the time, and I feel like such a fucking idiot for ending things between us, because, well. Because I love you. I still love you.”

Dewey usually had a comeback or snarky remark ready to go, but not now. He was completely speechless. For a long moment, at least. You watched as a relieved smile spread across his face, unable to contain the joy he was feeling at the thought of getting back together.

“Oh, baby, I love you too,” he said, finally wrapping his arms around your torso. You could smell his body wash, earthy and clean and comforting, “You drive me absolutely insane, and don’t ever think about leaving a bar by yourself again, but I missed you so goddamn much.” He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, and for the first time in weeks, your body relaxed.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you played with the unruly waves that fell at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. “Whoa, easy there, killer,” he smiled, his lips grazing your cheek, “You better sleep off the rest of this hangover. And since I’m so generous, I’ll let you sleep in my bed.”

You couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow, “What’ll it cost me?” Dewey smirked; you knew him all too well.

“Dinner. You’re paying, obviously.”

“Fair.”

“And drinks.”

“Okay.” He was really milking this for all it was worth.

“And of course, makeup sex is always a must in these situations.”

You gave him one final playful shake of the head before pouncing on him, showering him with affection. Even though you were messing around, you felt your heart swell; no matter what happened, no matter how many times your fear of losing him reared its ugly head, you would choose this. This was real, here, now, and important. This was your love for Dewey, and you’d do everything in your power to keep it this time.

***

Thanks everyone for reading! Please comment/like/reblog if you enjoyed!

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drakenology · 4 years

Text

Arguments - feat Bakugo, Todoroki, Kirishima and Tamaki Amajiki

author’s note: i’m feeling angsty today. so this is gonna be about arguing with some of the bnha characters. anyone else feel off today? just me?

warnings: swearing, angst, fluff 🥺, and suggestive themes not full on smut. characters aged up! some of these are long.. i was feeling dramatic

headers from @annicon

Bakugo

as much as i love this man i can admit he would be SOO stubborn

would get frustrated easily

yells 🥺

he knows when to walk away when the conversation isn’t getting anywhere which is good

would NEVER hurt you (i’ve seen ppl write that this mf hits you... girl...domestic violence is not an aesthetic.)

he isn’t the best with words so it’ll take him a little while to admit he’s wrong because he can’t verbalize how sorry he is sometimes

when he does he’ll hug and kiss you and apologize like a million times after he’s done being a stubborn little prick.

gives you the best “i’m sorry “ dick imaginable holy shit

Bakugo done did it. He pissed you off. You were already having a terrible day and then you come home to this motherfucker with a bunch of people over after you told him that you weren’t in the mood for company. So for the rest of the night when everyone left, you gave him the silent treatment knowing that he HATES when you ignore him on purpose.

“Y/N?”

You say nothing, continuing scrolling through your phone to look like you were preoccupied.

“Y/N, what’s your problem? I know you hear me.” Bakugo persists.

You ignore him, turning your back to face him. He grunts and grabs your shoulder, turning you back around to face him.

“Y/N if you’re pissed at me just say that. But ignoring me is fucking immature and it’s pissing me off!” He yells. Translation: “What did I do? 🥺”

“I’M pissing YOU off!? That’s funny. Because it’s not like you didn’t completely ignore my fucking feelings tonight. Why did you invite Kirishima and Denki over after I specifically said I didn’t feel like playing fucking HOSTESS!” You shout back, throwing your phone somewhere.

“Are you serious!? I never told them to come here they just showed up. What was I supposed to do tell them to piss off!?” Katsuki asked.

“YES!” You scream, annoyed that he’s not getting the reason why you’re upset. You never minded having Bakugo’s friends over but you just wanted to have a calm night with just the two of you. You were exhausted and fixing dinner for you and 3 other people and listening to loud chatter about sports and video games was not on your to-do list.

“This is so fucking petty! I don’t get why you’re so mad that they came over.” Katsuki said shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s the problem, idiot! You don’t fucking get it! I worked all day today. I just wanted us to relax but no, you wanted to have a fucking guys night in my living room! It’s the complete disregard for my feelings that’s pissing me off not the fact that they came. I told you I was tired and you having them come over anyways was like a big fuck you to me!” You explain, your face pulled into a face Katsuki knows is your angry face. Bakugo sighs, not ready to admit that he was wrong.

“Tch. Whatever. I’m gonna go sleep on the fucking couch. Let me know when you’re done being fucking frigid.” He shouts, clearly out of anger.

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Katsuki leaves your shared room and slammed the door, you throwing yourself onto the bed. You feel tears sting your eyes as you sob into your pillow. You hated fighting with Bakugo, and you knew he hated it too. He has a hard time expressing himself without getting defensive sometimes. But you knew he felt bad. You sigh and close your eyes and go to sleep.

The next morning you get up from bed and get ready to start your day. You shower and brush your teeth, you and Bakugo strategically avoiding each other all morning to go and do your daily routines. You didn’t utter a word to each other. Just questions and short answers.

“Got work?”

“Yup.”

“When?”

“7:30.”

The silence killed you both as you sat at the table and ate breakfast, Bakugo’s face pulled into a frown as he ate. You roll your eyes and go to put your dishes in the sink and grab his once he’s done. You can hear him get up from his chair as you wash both your plates and dry them. You had assumed he was leaving so you just wash all the rest of the dishes without turning your back. Suddenly you felt familiar arms wrap around your waist.

“Let me go.” You say, tearing up at the sudden touch. He was trying to make up with you and you were so ready to forgive him. The tension was almost too much to bear. This fight was small and it turned into something way bigger than need be.

“Not until you listen to me. I’m sorry, ok? I should have never yelled at you the way I did. And calling you frigid wasn’t ok either. I shoulda just told everyone to go home. We have those dumbasses over all the time. One night wouldn’t have killed me. I’m sorry. Can we just forget this shit ever happened? I hate it when you’re mad at me.” He pleaded, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You smile and turn around to look at his face, cupping his cheeks in both your hands as you stand on you tip toes to kiss him. He kisses you back eagerly, happy that you and him are back on good terms. He pulled away from the heated kiss and looks at the clock on the microwave.

“6:30...we still have an hour to kill. If you’re late I’ll drop you off.” Katsuki says, his eyes turning dark with feral lust.

“Late? What are yo-“ you’re interrupted by Bakugo pulling you into your bedroom with determination to make things right.. his way.

Tamaki (🥺 my new found love)

Tamaki is NOT a confrontational person so arguing with you is really hard. He hates raising his voice or even getting to a point to where he’s angry because he doesn’t want to think about hurting you in anyway.

He’ll shut down and turn cold or try and act nonchalant.

he might even avoid conflict by changing the subject

if he’s riled up enough though he’ll cuss you out.. to his dismay

doesn’t like being mad at you and vice versa

hates arguments.. like honestly can you just get over it so he can eat you out now?

speaking of eating you out, he gives apology head and he won’t stop until you say you forgive him.

Tamaki didn’t like to admit it but he was really jealous. Like really really jealous like YANDERE type jealous. You and him were out to dinner with Mirio so you were all chatting about mindless nothing, catching up like you always do. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary for you but to Tamaki it appeared that Mirio was a little too playful at dinner with you. He was cracking jokes and poking fun and Tamaki took it as him flirting with you; which Mirio would never disrespect your relationship like that. Rage sat in the pit of Tamaki’s chest as you laugh at all his jokes. He was furious but hid it pretty well for the night.

“And then Tamaki wet himself in front of the whole class when I scared him with my quirk in middle school. Can you believe it?” Mirio laughs, causing you to laugh at the thought.

“Oh leave him alone, Togata.” You giggle, waving your hand in front of your face to stop the tears from laughter. He had been making you laugh all night all to Tamaki’s disliking. He was quiet all dinner, which you noticed immediately after Togata’s last joke.

“Hey Tamaki, is everything ok?” You ask, concerned that he might not want to be out anymore.

“Yeah.” He said coldly. “Actually I’m just gonna go to the car. I feel kinda sick.” He stands from his seat and walks to the exit, absolutely fucking furious that you were “flirting” with his childhood friend right in front of him.

“Awkward. What’s up with him?” Mirio asks, completely dumb founded by Tamaki’s sudden disappearance.

“I dunno. I’m gonna go to the car and see what’s wrong. Do you mind?” You ask, standing from your seat.

“Nah that’s cool. I’m actually gonna head out. You go on ahead, Y/N. I’ll take care of the tab.. this time.” Mirio jokes. You giggle and thank him, walking towards the exit. You walk through the parking lot and find the car, seeing Tamaki sitting in the passenger side with his arms crossed across his chest. What was his deal? You open the car door and sit in the driver’s side to meet a thick tension.

“What’s wrong Tamaki? Do you really feel sick or are you upset with me?” You ask.

“Why don’t you ask Mirio? I’m sure he’ll be able to answer since he’s the only guy you talked to all night. It was like I wasn’t even there.” Tamaki says, calm but obviously pestered.

“Is that was this is about? Tama you know it wasn’t like that. Mirio has always been a jokester what’s the difference now?” You ask, getting a little upset at his accusation.

“The difference is that he was trying to make a pass at you. He was so obviously flirting with you.” He says, his tone becoming stern. You’re shocked at how he was getting, frowning at how unreasonable he was being.

“No he wasn’t, Tamaki.” You say, looking him dead in his eyes.

“Yes he was. I’m not about to fight with you about this he was clearly fucking flirting with you. He joked with you all night and you laughed at every single thing he said. You must want to fuck him, don’t you?” He asked, looking at you with some sort of betrayal in his eyes. This infuriates you.

“What are you talking about!? You know I would never cheat on you Tamaki. Especially not with your best friend. What’s with you!?” You ask sternly, not amused or pleased in the slightest.

“Whatever, Y/N.” Tamaki says, looking out the car window while turning the other way so he’s not facing your side of the car. He knew this was stupid and he knew your loyalty was never to be questioned but he couldn’t shake this feeling of jealousy.

“No. You don’t get to start a fight and then blow me off when you’re through arguing! Talk to me!” You yell, furious at this point. Tamaki shrugs, avoiding the situation entirely now.

“Just drive. I wanna go home.” He says, not taking his eyes off the view from his window. You roll your eyes and start the car, pulling out of the parking lot to start your way home. The drive home was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You were so angry that you didn’t talk to Tamaki the whole way home, knowing you’d probably cuss him out if he said the wrong thing. Tamaki immediately felt bad after picking that fight. He didn’t know what came over him, he knew he had to make it up to you before you two go to bed angry with each other. You approach your shared apartment and park the car, silence still riddling the car. The tension between you both was intense and it scared you. You’ve never seen Tamaki this upset. Jealousy was always an issue for him but he’s never reacted this strongly.

“Y/N?” Tamaki says breaking the silence. You look at him, a little relieved that he’s talking to you again.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I know you’d never cheat on me, of course. But I was just so jealous. It felt like you and Mirio were on a date and I was just the third wheel. The thought of him taking you from me drove me crazy. I wasn’t thinking. Can you forgive me?” He says, placing his hand on top of yours on the steering wheel. You sniffle, tearing up at his apology.

“Tamaki, I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I love you so much. No one could ever take your place, not even Mirio. I’d never betray you like that, ever.” You sob, tears flowing down your face. Tamaki questioning your loyalty really hurt your feelings and he hated seeing you cry.

“I know that. Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. It was so stupid of me to even assume.” He says, taking his hand and wiping your tears away. He took your hand and gave it a sweet kiss to soothe you, rubbing circles with his thumb on it as he consoled you. You giggle and wipe your tears, happy that you guys made up after that silly fight.

“Let’s go inside.”

Todoroki

arguments between you two get heated. It gets to a point where sometimes you don’t speak to each other for days. he’ll definitely give small reminders that he still loves you to butter you up to alleviate some of the tension.

raises his voice

just as stubborn as bakugo

to a fault of his upbringing facing his emotions was hard for him sometimes, causing him to be cold when you fight

when it’s time to get over it and make up he’ll make it a huge event; flowers, chocolates and lots of freaky apology sex

cant stand arguing with you just like tamaki but wont back down in the slightest

is sure he doesn’t say anything harsh to make the situation worse.

“Why are you being so stubborn?!” You shout at your bi-colored haired boyfriend. The two of you have been fighting all day to your surprise. Shoto was usually easy going and you two hardly fought. But today, a bug seemed to have crawled up Todoroki’s ass and he’s been picking fights all day. You’ve been arguing about small things like who left the bathroom light on or who ate the last hot pocket. Right now it was an argument about when you’re going to meet his father Endeavor. It’s been almost a year since you two have been together and you don’t even think his father knows you exist.

“For the last time Y/N we’re not going to my dad’s house. That’s final! You can argue with yourself about this. End of discussion.” Shoto says, very annoyed at the thought of being near his father. He still couldn’t stand him, even as an adult. He can’t bring himself to bring you around him because he knows how he can be. If he even says something slightly rude to you he’ll flip the fuck out. You groan in frustration, wishing he’d at least consider.

“He doesn’t know we’re together does he!? What am I to you some secret? Why did you stay with me all this time if your family doesn’t even know I exist !?” You shout, tearing up with seering anger.

“It’s not that. Of course he knows we’re together; my whole family knows! Why do you want to involve him so badly?!” Shoto yells.

“Why wouldn’t I want to meet my fucking boyfriend’s father!? You’re not making any sense.” You say, getting more and more frustrated as Shoto makes excuses.

“You know what? Fine. We’ll go meet him tomorrow. But as soon as he treats you like you’re not good enough for me don’t be surprised when I tell you I fucking told you so. God you can be so stubborn sometimes.” Shoto shouts, rolling his eyes at you.

“Oh I’M stubborn!? That’s rich coming from you. You’re being so unreasonable right now. I know you and your father-“

“YOU DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT MY FATHER. Stop speaking on things you haven’t the first idea about!” Shoto yells, punching a nearby wall. (Oop.) You flinch, shocked at how angry he got so quickly. You tear up and run off to your bedroom, Todoroki immediately regretting getting so upset with you. He scared you and that’s something he never wanted to do to you under any circumstances. You cried yourself to sleep that night, angry that things got so heated. Why did he react like that? And why was he treating you as if you knew nothing about him and his father. He would vent to you about him all the time and you gave him advice when you could. But tonight you felt like you were nothing but an outsider. Shoto didn’t even bother coming into the room. He couldn’t face you after making you cry. Right now, he hated himself for treating you like that. He was just so afraid of his father’s judgement he didn’t want him to hurt your feelings with how crass he was. If Endeavor found the slightest thing wrong with you he’d never let you or him forget it. He could hear him now calling you unworthy of the Todoroki name. The thought alone enraged him. In his own cryptic way, he was trying to protect you from him but this was no way to do it nor did he have the right. Todoroki slept on the couch, missing your warmth against him in your bed.

The next morning the two of you drove to the Todoroki estates in silence. You were still pissed at him and Shoto didn’t want to say anything to further upset you. He was annoyed he was making this trip in the first place but he knew he had to man up for your sake. It was unfair of him to try and keep you away from his family especially since you would one day take on his name and be a part of the family when he married you. He knew he couldn’t keep you away forever, but god couldn’t he have had a little more time? He dreaded this day.

“Ready?” Shoto asks coldly, trying to hide his remorse from his tone. You nod, getting out of the car before he could walk over and open the door for you. Shoto is surprised and gets out with you, guiding you to his old home. He can’t lie, he’s so fucking nervous. What if he hates you? Not that he cares what he thinks, he’ll marry you anyway but still. He at least wants his blessing. You walk with Shoto to the main room of the home and wait for Endeavor to come downstairs. Suddenly you hear footsteps from across the room. It was him. He was tall and his aura was so dark and intimidating.

“You must be Y/N.” Endeavor says, looking down at your small frame. You nod, a wave of nervousness shooting through your body.

“N-Nice to meet you sir.” You bow respectfully.

“No need for that. Please, have a seat.” Endeavor says gesturing to the couch. You and Shoto sit down next to each other, Endeavor following suit by sitting across from you two.

“So.. how long have you two been together?” Endeavor asks, his booming voice almost sending an echo throughout the empty room. You gulp and look towards Shoto.

“10 months.” He answers for you, taking your hand to calm you. You’re still mad at him but god you’re glad he’s doing his best to ease your anxiety.

“And you just now arrange a meeting? Hm.” Endeavor questions, looking at you as if he was scanning you to find something irredeemable about you. You look down at your lap, unable to keep eye contact with the intimidating man.

“I-I wanted to meet with you sooner. Me and Shoto fought about coming here last night but I convinced him.” You say nervously.

“I see. You seem like an ok girl. Shoto has had his fair share of.. inadequate women in his life so, you’re a step up from the rest.” Endeavor says, motioning for a maid to make you all some tea. You laugh nervously, Shoto squeezing your hand in annoyance. Was that a compliment?

“You two seem like you’ve been fighting.” Endeavor says suddenly, observing both your body language. You’re both shocked as you turn to look at each other. How’d he know that?

“What’s it to you?” Shoto asks, glaring at his father.

“Oh nothing. But if you’re planning on marrying this girl it’s probably best to not argue too much with her. Hell, she might up and leave.”

Shoto looks at you, pain in his eyes. The look on his face alone said “I’m sorry.” Shoto hated to admit it but his father was right. Fighting as much as you have been, especially the fight you had last night was toxic and could take a toll on your relationship.

You smile at him and turn to Endeavor

“I’d never leave him.” You say, snuggling closer to Shoto as he blushed. He was embarrassed that he was being so vulnerable around his father but he knew that only you could make this happen.

After a long conversation with Endeavor and Shoto, you leave with a feeling that you might have won him over. You think? He was hard to read, just like Shoto. He was more like his father than he likes to admit. Shoto opens the car door for you to get inside and then walks to the drivers side to come in. You sit in the car for a while, silent until Shoto grabs you and leans over to kiss you. You kiss him back, tearing up into the kiss.

“I’m sorry, snowflake. I can’t believe I raised my voice at you like that. I was just so scared that he was gonna hate you and say something disrespectful. I should have just told you that instead of being defensive. I’m so so sorry I scared you. Please forgive me. ” He pleaded, peppering kissing on your face.

“I know. And I forgive you.” You giggle, pulling Todoroki closer to you to kiss him again.

Kirishima

Out of all the boys he’s the least stubborn when it comes to fighting. But don’t be fooled, he’ll argue you down. he’s very good at managing his temper when it comes to you.

Regrets starting a fight in the first place

Just wants to cuddle and go back to normal

But when he’s angry hooo boy

doesn’t even yell, he’s like a calm angry which is terrifying

tries talking over you, trying to plead his case

will not rest until the situation is resolved and over with so you guys can move on

like all the others... apology sex

will try not to lose his patience

You and Kirishima had been together for a while now so it was only inevitable that you two have your first fight. You were always a vigilant person and wanted to help others even though you were quirkless like Deku was at one point. Kirishima is protective of you to a fault and the thought of you getting hurt or worse didn’t sit well with him at all. You assured him that you were capable of taking care of yourself and protecting yourself but he wasn’t having any of it. You spent years perfecting your martial arts skills, training your ass off for countless hours everyday and he knew that. But he didn’t want you to one day meet your match without him there to protect you.

“Y/N, drop it. You’re not going on missions with me and that’s final. It’s too dangerous.” Eijiro said, his brows furrowed. He was trying not to lose his patience with you but you kept insisting. He just wished you’d forget about this whole thing; for your safety.

“You don’t have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do! I’m fully capable for taking care of myself and you know that.” You yell, irritated at your boyfriend underestimating your abilities. Eijiro sighs and stands up from the couch to stand in front of you, inching so close you could almost kiss.

“I’ll die before I let you go out there. Do you know what would happen to me; to your friends and family if something happened to you!? We’d be crushed. Please just drop this.” Kirishima says, wanting to avoid this conversation all together. But alas, nothing was changing your mind. You were very head strong and stubborn to no avail so you weren’t going down without a fight.

“You can’t stop me!” You yell

“Oh I can’t?” Eijiro challenged.

“No. You can’t. You can’t treat me like a child, Eijiro.” You say. “How can you say I’m not ready if you don’t give me a chance to prove I am!?”

“Because you just aren’t! Okay!? You say you’re not a child but you’re acting like one and a petulant one at that. Just drop it! God, you can be so stubborn sometimes. Don’t you see I’m just trying to keep you safe!?” Kirishima yells, instantly regretting raising his voice at you and losing his cool. You tear up, furious that he’s treating you like some kid. You grab your stuff and prepare to leave his apartment.

“Where are you going?” Kirishima sighs

“Fuck you, Eijiro.” You say, walking away from him and going outside to cool off. Kirishima tries to grab you before you leave but you snatch your arm away from him and walk outside with a huff and a slam of the door. You wipe your hot tears away and start aimlessly walking down the street to go home. Hell, you don’t even know your way home from Eijiro’s place but you’ll be damned if you go back there. As you walk you see Kirishima’s car pull up to the side of you, driving slowly to keep up with your walking pace.

“Y/N please get in the car.” He says out the car window

“No! I don’t wanna talk to you so just go away!” You yell, continuing to walk as the brisk wind assaults your bare skin. Dammit you forgot your coat.

“Y/N! You’re being ridiculous just please get in the car. You left your jacket; it’s freezing out here!” Eijiro shouts, getting out of the car and grabbing you to pull you inside. You groan, obviously being overpowered by your strong boyfriend. Kirishima slams the door and gets back inside, drives back to his apartment and parks in the driveway. He sighs and leans his head on the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry I got so heated with you. But can you blame me? I’m worried about you. Sure we’ll be on these missions together but what if something happens? What if I’m not there to protect you when something goes wrong? These missions are unpredictable; anything could happen and I’d literally die if even a scratch is put on you.” Eijiro pleads. You start crying, sniffling at his words. He was right to be worried.

“I love you, Eijiro and I appreciate you being so concerned about me. But that doesn’t give you the right to shelter me. You can’t just force me to not follow my dream.” You sob, wiping your tears away. Eijiro grabs your hand and kisses it.

“I know. I just can’t bear the thought of you being hurt. But if this is what you really want, I have no choice but to at least see this through.” Kirishima says, holding your small hand in his two massive ones. You smile, putting your other hand on top of his.

“Thank you. Also, I’m sorry for saying fuck you to you. That was mean.” You say pouting.

“It was. Hurt my feelings.” Eijiro said faking sadness, immediately laughing as he watched your face frown up again at the thought of hurting his feelings.

“Oh shut up.”

#bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha imagines #bnha #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha headcanons #bnha kirishima #bnha denki #bnha tamaki #bnha amajiki #bnha angst #bnha fluff

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writemekpop · 3 years

Text

Bad Romance (Part 1) | Lee Taeyong

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Taeyong wants to fuck you, but you're not ready...

Genre: Angst, Smut, College AU

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Sexual Content, Toxic relationship

Part 1 ⭐️| Part 2

Taeyong’s breaths were deafening in your ear. Couldn’t he try to control himself? For discretion, at least. You imagined every ear in your university dorm pricking up. Snickering. “I wonder what they’re up to.”

Taeyong kissed you again, his hot lips colliding with yours.

His hand, ever so slightly rough, pushed up your shirt, sending goosebumps up your ribs. A moan sounded, deep in your throat, and Taeyong groaned in satisfaction.

You felt instantly guilty. You’d told yourself your ancestors wouldn’t mind if you did this for him. But you’d promised not to enjoy it.

Taeyong knotted one hand in your hair. You felt the other one slide up to your back to unclasp your bra. His hand dwarfed your back, sending sparks rippling up your shoulder blades.

“Are you okay with this?” he murmured, voice husky. You nodded. It was a lie.

The truth was, you’d never had sex before. You’d barely even kissed a boy.

When all your college friends were in the basement snogging boys, you would hover by the doorway, holding their drinks. When they began to tease you, you just pretended you couldn’t hear them.

Even when everyone started saying you ‘batted for the other team’, it just felt like a relief. Maybe they’d finally leave you alone.

You were a feminist. You fully believed that women weren’t shiny, unwrapped presents that had to be protected for marriage. But you were also a fake.

Because the idea of sleeping with a stranger still made you feel sick inside.

Well, Taeyong wasn’t a stranger; he was your boyfriend. So, you would just have to grit your teeth and get on with it.

Taeyong’s hand slid down between you. You squeezed your eyes shut. It would be over in a minute; that’s what your friends were always joking about, right?

Then, you heard the unmistakeable clink of his belt buckle. Suddenly, that was the most terrifying sound you’d ever heard.

“W-wait,” you croaked.

You clung onto Taeyong’s firm wrist.

He was breathing hard, his pulse pounding under his papery-thin skin. You were sat on his lap – so you could feel how ready he was, and it frightened you.

He would hate you for what you were about to say, you knew that.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

You rolled away from him, pulling your knees up and hugging them. Burying your wet eyes in your knees, you waited for Taeyong to leave.

But you didn’t feel him get off the bed.

Instead, there was absolute silence. A shiver ran down your spine.

Then, his muscled arms were wrapping around you. Taeyong eased you till you were lying on the bed – fear closed in your throat – but he wasn’t trying to have sex with you. Instead, he helped you pull your T-shirt back on, and guided you so your head was resting on his chest.

You felt his thundering heartbeat slow to a steady, comforting pulse.

Taeyong pressed a kiss on your temple. For a second, your stomach curled; it was so fatherly. You mentally scolded yourself. Taeyong wasn’t like other guys. He was caring, and sensitive, and you should be grateful.

“If you wanna go slow, let’s go slow. You’ll always be my girl,” Taeyong whispered.

So, you pushed down the niggling feeling that ‘always’ had an expiry date. It was time you learnt to trust someone, and Taeyong was the perfect person to let in.

---

Over the next few months, you tried your best to forget about that night. And it was easy enough – Taeyong was electrifying.

You’d never met a man who could tell a Basquiat from a Banksy and didn’t even show off about it.

Each night, after lectures, you’d sneak off to some gallery late opening, and take photos of each other for Instagram.

Or, you’d just snuggle up in his dorm room and listen to him telling you all about his Art History course, or his dreams of starting his own gallery.

You rarely spoke. You preferred to soak in his world, like a cat curled in the sun. And let’s face it – who wanted to talk about Maths, anyway?

Taeyong was like a shooting star: totally uncontrollable, impossible to understand, yet hopelessly fascinating. You couldn’t believe why someone like him seemed to find you interesting. Or at least, worth spending every day with.

---

The second time Taeyong scared you was a Saturday.

You were sitting in his lap, poring over one of his Art History books. Other than toying with a curl of your hair, or pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Taeyong was totally still.

Sighing with pleasure, you flicked through the glossy pages – for the hundredth time. No wonder Taeyong would always say: If I wasn’t rubbish at Maths, we should’ve swapped courses.

Just then, you prised open a page you hadn’t seen before. You frowned.

It was a scan of an old Japanese painting. In it, a wealthy couple were captured in a furious argument with a young woman, carrying a baby. It was entitled ‘Outside Wife’.

You turned to Taeyong, finger on the title. “What’s that?”

Taeyong lifted the book from your hands, then grinned. “It’s when a noble couple are forced to get married, but the man has another wife to, you know, satisfy his needs.” Taeyong chuckled dryly. “Unfortunately, that system isn’t available anymore.”

You began to chuckle too… then your smile melted from your face. “What do you mean, unfortunately?” Goosebumps rippled over your skin.

“Ah… it was just a joke. You know, we’re not exactly getting any.” Taeyong’s body still felt relaxed under you, but your muscles were tensing.

“I thought you said you wanted to go slow…” you mumbled.

Of course. You should’ve seen this coming.

There was only so long a person could go without their needs fulfilled. And here you were, dragging your boyfriend down while he could sleep with any normal girl whenever he wanted.

“I’m not ready yet, Taeyong.” You picked at the frayed wool of your jumper.

Your throat closed as you prepared for what you would say next. “If you… need to sleep with someone else, I won’t blame you,” you whispered. Stupid, babyish tears were filling your eyes already.

“Babe – it was just a joke! No need to get your knickers in a twist.” Taeyong laughed, and kissed your neck.

When you still didn’t make a sound a moment later, Taeyong turned you around on his lap so you were facing him. Tears streaked freely down your cheeks – you couldn’t hide them.

“Oh, baby….” Soft as a whisper, Taeyong placed his palm on your cheek and smoothed away the tears with his thumb. “I don’t care about your… problem. You’re my girlfriend, and what’s good enough for you’s good enough for me.”

A small part of you hurt at the way he said problem, but you pushed that part away. You allowed him a small smile.

Laughing, Taeyong pulled you into a bear hug. You’d never gripped his shoulder so tight. You were so lucky to have him.

----

A few weeks later, Taeyong finally convinced you to accompany him to a house party. You knew what this meant. You’d been dating for four months – this was the ‘meeting his friends’ moment.

All the time you were getting ready, your stomach had transformed into a pit of snakes. Excitement, anxiety, fear – they all wriggled and knotted about inside you.

You chose a midnight-blue playsuit, in a glimmering velvet. When Taeyong pointed it out to you in the shop, you knew this what you’d be wearing.

To be honest, you hated Taeyong’s friends. You were pretty sure Taeil had tried to sneak vodka into your coke, and Mark did nothing but yap on endlessly about his girlfriend in Canada. You were almost 100% sure she didn’t exist.

But as soon as Taeyong’s mahogany eyes met yours across in the heaving living room, all your worries melted away like snow. All he had to do was raise one deep eyebrow, or pull his plump lips into a silly face, and you’d burst out laughing.

Except, as the hours drew by, you realised you hadn’t seen Taeyong in a while. You were perched on the stairs, shivering next to everyone who was too zoned out to take part.

“Taeyong?”

Tip-toeing, you climbed up the stairs, calling his name. You pushed open each of the doors in the hallway, peeking through your fingers just in case anything funny was going on.

But they were all empty.

Just as you turned around to go back downstairs, you heard voices coming from the attic. Gingerly, you sneaked up. They grew louder, more defined.

Pushing open the door just a crack, you heard:

“Really? My god.”

Your heart jumped. You knew that rich, resounding tone better than your own voice. It was Taeyong.

You considered climbing up to join them. But then, you heard something that stopped you in your tracks.

“And the worst thing is, Irene thinks she’s some kind of sex goddess, but actually she’s awful. She just lies there like a limp doll, expecting me to do everything.” It was Doyoung speaking.

There was a pause as they all laughed.

Your heart was already twisting. Something about his tone felt… wrong. Like his girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate what he was saying.

Then, you heard Taeyong say, “Mate, at least your girlfriend’s fucking you, even if she is awful at it. I haven’t got any for months!”

Everyone in the group exclaimed in disbelief. You forgot how to breathe.

“Yeah – I know. Y/n thinks she’s some kind of saint for “waiting for the perfect moment”. I mean, a guy’s got needs!” Taeyong’s voice was low, but to you he could have been screaming.

Black spots were engulfing your vision. Gulping, you staggered backwards, out of the door. You didn’t want to hear what you heard next. You really didn’t want to.

But you couldn’t help it. Not when Taeyong said, “You know, I don’t even feel bad about fucking Joy. I mean, I had no choice. If Y/n wasn’t so frigid, I wouldn’t need to. It’s her fault really.”

That was it.

You sprinted away. Pushing through the line of partygoers waiting to use the bathroom, you locked yourself inside.

Then, you curled up on the toilet seat and sobbed.

It had finally happened.

Your gorgeous boyfriend had finally realised that he was miles out of your league. He didn’t deserve the defect. He didn’t deserve the fake feminist who was too ashamed to admit how sexist she really was.

Then, a thought entered your mind that make you perk up.

Maybe you could pretend you’d never overheard Taeyong. Maybe you could go back to how you were before… Or maybe you could sleep with him and make him forget about all other girls.

After all, you’d do anything to keep him.

Anything.

Read Part 2 here.

---

MASTERLIST

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ichorai · 4 years

Text

frozen hearts, flaming arrows ; p.sh

parts ; one. masterlist. two coming soon.

pairing ; fire!seonghwa x ice!reader

summary ; two enemy clans. one icer healer, one flamer soldier, one brewing war. love was never meant to be a part of this. but then again, when is love ever supposed to be a part of anything?

words ; 7.3k

warnings / includes ; cursing, violence, a make-out scene !!, future suggestive / mature content, hwa being sexy as always, ANGST okay this is a lot of ANGST and hURT, enemies to friends to enemies to lovers trope lol

a/n ; bet yall didn’t see this one coming lol but yea pls enjoy !!! im rlly excited for this series omg !!! im sorry this part was rlly short and kinda bad kkdfjdf but this is just the beginning and i swear part two will be much better !!

A snowflake glowing a luminescent blue lazily floated above your palm, multiplying into several others until you held a mini-flurry in your hand. You walked past all the frosted-over trees, huffing in deep breaths of cold air as your boots stepped over piles of unblemished snow and crispy dead leaves.

Being a healer was exhausting. Though you were still fairly new to the job, you couldn’t help but lay all the blame on yourself for being incapable of saving a life today. You just… hadn’t expected there to be that much blood. Icers had thicker blood for a reason; it wasn’t usually a problem. The head healer tried to reassure you that you did everything you could, but you couldn’t stand to be in the medbay for much longer. You needed air.

And that’s how you ended up here, head spinning dizzily as you stomped through the wintry grey forest, releasing out a frustrated groan from the bottom of your lungs.

“You’re dangerously close to our territory, Icer.” The sudden deep-timbered voice had you flinching so harshly you hit your head on an icy tree branch. “I’d watch my step if I was you.”

Breath caught in your throat, you watched with wide eyes as the Flamer stepped out of the shadow of a tree. He was undeniably handsome; his irises were dark, flecked with a fierce gold the same hue as the edge of a fire, his slicked-back hair a nightly black, and a curl of his carmine lips that was nowhere near friendly. An obvious insignia of a red flame was embedded into his unwrinkled jacket, a clear sign of this man being from the Fire Tribe.

“I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized I was so close to the border.” You murmured, backing away slowly. The small snowflakes that you had accumulated in your palm quickly dissipated into the air, but miniscule particles of snow still floated around you, no doubt a result of your quaking nerves.

Noticing this, the man watched curiously as a snowflake drifted by him. He raised a finger towards the ice crystal, a small orange flame bursting out of the tip. The snowflake melted into a droplet of water, falling to his feet. You noticed the snow had melted away from him in a large circle around his shoes, now standing in a patch of wet grass. Even from the great distance between the two of you, you could still feel the wavering heat pulsating from this strange man.

“What are you doing so far away from your people?”

You knew you shouldn’t be talking to a Flamer stranger. They were dangerous, and it was common knowledge that Icers and Flamers weren’t on the best terms as of late.

“I couldn’t be there anymore,” You whispered, just loud enough for him to pick up. At his raised eyebrows, you continued on. “I’m a healer. It was a lot of pressure not to mess up.”

He nodded, his curiosity getting the best of him. He stepped closer and asked, “Then why are you a healer?”

“Because I’m good at it.” The words came off far too snobbish for your liking, so you quickly added in a sheepish tone, “Also because I like helping people.”

The two of you fell into a queer silence, before he nodded, somewhat satisfied with your answer. The Flamer turned his back to you, “I best get going now. The lands aren’t going to patrol themselves. Run back to the rest of your people, Icer.”

You could feel his heat retract as he walked away. More snow fell to cover his tracks, as if the strange man with flaming eyes was never there.

It wasn’t until the same time the next day that you found yourself strolling towards the forest, back to the same spot last night, feet acting to their own accord. You paused in your steps when you realized where you were heading.

Would you really risk getting a Flamer angry at you for getting too close to their borders again? With not another thought, you pushed back the doubts and walked onwards… it wasn’t like you actually crossed the border. There was a large grey strip of forest land that belonged to neither tribe; it was far too costly to maintain and the forest gave them nothing but bugs and piles of dead leaves.

Much to your surprise, the man was already there, watching you with those glowing eyes of his. “What are you doing here?” He hissed.

“I can ask you the same thing,” You retaliated, arching an eyebrow.

The cold wind whistled as it blew past you, but you were planted firmly to the ground. He, on the other hand, grimaced quite obviously as the breeze tousled his neat hair about, sending dark strands careening into his eyes.

“I’m Y/N,” You said with a small smile. Although he pulsated with heat, that only made him feel the frigid sting of the cold wind all the more. At the sight of his shivering form, you wondered just how bad a Flamer can be.

He eyed you suspiciously before stepping forward quite boldly, sticking out a hand, “I’m Seonghwa.”

There was a strange arrhythmic thump in your chest. Now that he was so close to you, the lilith-hued snow around your feet started to wilt away as well, your cheeks flushing at the sudden rise in temperature. Icers weren’t very good with heat, that was obvious.

And when you took his hand, it was as if he was the coldest thing you’ve ever touched. But that couldn’t be it… you couldn’t really feel the cold much. Nonetheless, you gripped his palm unflinchingly, staring him dead in the eye. It became like some sort of challenge, but the both of you knew that you had obviously won. Seonghwa winced at how freezing your fingers against his were.

“Do you come here everyday?” The Flamer asked once he retracted his hand from yours to shove into the warmth of his pocket.

“Yesterday was my first time. I wasn’t planning on coming back today, but I just ended up here on instinct.” Your boot scuffed the pristine snow, avoiding the way his gaze seemed to quite literally burn holes into you.

Seonghwa frowned slightly. Funnily enough, the same exact thing had happened to him. He wasn’t on patrolling duty today, so really, he had no cause to be out here. He could be curled up with a book in front of a nice, warm fire, instead of standing in the snow with an Icer, of all people. Gods, he must be crazy.

“So… what are you doing here?” Your seemingly innocent question had Seonghwa struggling for words.

In all honesty, he had been curious whether or not you’d come back. An Icer healer in the Grey Forest was more than enough to pique his interest. Nothing remotely gripping ever happened in the Fire Tribe (other than the various men and women who threw themselves at him whenever they got the chance). He hadn’t actually expected you to come back.

“I’m… hunting.”

“It’s illegal to hunt outside of your tribe lands, everybody knows that.”

“Who said I was hunting for an animal?” Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest to try and look somewhat menacing, but you just grinned. “I was looking for a book I lost.”

You hummed slightly, “Right.” As you waved your arm about, little snowflakes seemed to trail after you, and Seonghwa watched in masked fascination. “Can’t you just admit that you came to see me again?”

“Who’s to say that it’s not you coming to see me?”

“Hmm, let’s just say we both came to see each other. I’ve never seen a Flamer up this close before.”

Seonghwa blinked down at you with wide eyes, as if realizing just how small the distance between the two of you was. His cheeks reddened quickly as he cleared his throat into a fist, stepping backwards and almost slipping on more snow. When he attempted to sidestep the large wet puddle he’d created because of his rippling heat, his foot caught onto a tree root and he tumbled backwards. Snowflakes clung onto his dark hair and he shivered yet again. You tried to conceal your sniggers behind a palm, but Seonghwa still seemed to notice, his blazing eyes narrowing in mock-offense.

“You’re enjoying this,” He stated with an accusatory tone.

“Of course I am,” You replied through muted laughs. “I’m sorry. I would help, but I’m afraid I’d only make it worse.” To emphasize your point, you shook your hands slightly, blue crystals of snow whirling about.

Seonghwa’s fiery eyes seemed to soften at this. He pushed himself up to his feet, now shivering so harshly that you could hear his teeth chatter. You’d only known this Flamer for less than two days and yet he’d already managed to tug at your heartstrings.

“You should go back and get warm. I’ve read about Flamers and their immune systems… you guys are absolute babies when it comes to the cold.” Out of instinct, you reached out to touch his arm, like you did to most sick patients. But of course, you paused just before the tips of your fingers brushed against his jacket, curled your hand into a palm and forced it back down to your side. “I wouldn’t want you getting a fever just to see an ordinary Icer.”

Seonghwa cracked a half of a smile, shaking his head in disbelief.

But when he spun on his heel to leave, you called out before you could stop yourself, “Will I ever see you again, Seonghwa?” He stopped in his tracks without turning to looking at you. Stomach coiling into a tight knot of tension, you awaited in the palpable silence, a heavy lump forming in your throat.

“Next time, let’s go somewhere a bit warmer, yeah? Meet me closer to Flamer territory, by the river next to the largest tree in the Grey Forest. If you get to see me shiver, I get to see you sweat, Icer.” And then he continued on his way, until his lithe form disappeared behind the misty haze and the frosted shrubbery.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Just what were you thinking, agreeing to meet with a Flamer? Were you always this stupid or had you just realized now? You couldn’t believe you were spending your free time with some random Flamer from the Fire Tribe.

Thoughts of doubt swirled about in your head as you wove your way through the Grey Forest. The low rumbling of the river had you gulping down a large lump in your throat. It was already far too warm for you liking, the little snowflakes that buzzed around your head slowly melting away in water droplets. You didn’t think you’ve ever been this nervous before; not even back when you performed your first major surgery. There was just something about Seonghwa that you couldn’t stay away from… like when your Nan used to tell you no sugar candies before bed, it only made you crave for them all the more.

By the time you spotted Seonghwa leaning against the large tree, you were panting heavily, perspiration marring your skin.

“Fancy seeing you here,” The Flamer chimed, seeming to be in a much better mood now that the tables have turned. He seemed quite at ease, not a bead of sweat to be seen. “Already worked up quite a sweat, have we?”

Pathetically, you lifted your arm to conjure a small snowball, proceeding to press it against your head for cool relief. It quickly melted into a slushy of ice and water, dripping down your hair. You frowned, while Seonghwa grinned in return.

“Not so fun, is it?” He teased while you kicked off your boots and dipped your feet into the river, moaning in relief at the slightly cooler temperature of the water. You wished to make it colder, but much to your disappointment, the water wouldn’t crystalize because of how quickly it was rushing by.

Seonghwa crouched next to you, but still kept a decent length away, picking up rocks to skip across the river. For that, you were grateful, because if he made you any warmer than you were at that moment, you would’ve gotten up and stormed back to Icer lands.

“The first time we met,” You started after flicking water onto your face to cool down, making Seonghwa glance at you with curious eyes. “You were telling me to go back to my territory. But now, you made me come closer to Flamer lands. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know,” He answered honestly. “You’re just… not what I thought an Icer would be like. It made me curious.”

“And what did you think we’d be like?”

A small shrug lifted his shoulder, “Cold. I mean, not that you aren’t, but cold as in… your hearts would be frozen over as well. I grew up with stories of Icers freezing Flamers to death and placing them in their gardens as statues. But you don’t seem like you’d do that kind of stuff. Especially when you told me that you were a healer.”

“For me, everybody knew the story of how the Fire Tribe would lock the Icers they captured in a sealed room, and the snow they made would melt and they’d slowly watch as the room filled with water, unable to turn it into ice because it was too damn hot. And eventually… they’d drown.” At the last few words, you frosted over your fingers and dunked them beneath the waters’ surface.

Seonghwa’s horrified expression made you chuckle slightly.

“Well, for the record, we don’t do that. We aren’t barbarians.” His words were said huffily as he crossed his arms and turned fully to fix his rapt gaze on you.

“I know. It was merely a silly childhood legend.”

The hours dribbled away fairly quickly, you and Seonghwa exchanging tales of your childhood that only increased in absurdity the farther you recounted. He told you about his friend, San, and how they once snuck into Wind Tribe territory to steal rare Gustberries that only grew in the harsh fields of the Breezers. You told him of Hongjoong and Wooyoung, the former being your closest friend and the latter constantly getting himself hurt. Laughs and giggles and the quiet hum of the river filled the silences in between the gaps of your vivid conversations. The more time you spent talking with him, the more you found yourself growing fond of the fiery-eyed man. Who would’ve thought?

By the time the sun had already set, you and Seonghwa were sitting much closer than when you had first sat down, his heat pulsating through the air in waves. To be honest, you didn’t quite mind the subtle warmth after you got used to the initial shock, but you knew you were pushing your limits. An Icer shouldn’t be out in high temperatures for this long.

You pushed yourself up to your feet, head swimming dizzily as you sucked in lungfuls of air. Slightly concerned, Seonghwa reached out to help you find your feet, but he pulled away at the last moment, just as you had last night. The tables really have turned, you thought in mild amusement.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine…” You swayed on your feet slightly, pressing your cooler palm against your warmer-than-usual forehead.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the cold. You guys are absolute babies when it comes to the heat.” He said, mimicking the same exact words you told him yesterday. A weak laugh slipped past your lips, as you leaned against a tree branch.

Oh, everything was just too hot. You’ve been out of the snow for too long…

All of a sudden, the world was flipped onto its side, damp grass pressing against your face. You could barely register Seonghwa startled yelp before everything went dark.

“Hey. Icer, are you okay? Icer! Y/N, come on, I put you back in the snow, I don’t know what else to do.”

Though your head pounded as though someone had whacked you with a tree branch, you could just barely make out Seonghwa’s concerned tone. When your eyelids fluttered open, you were met with the sight of the Flamer’s handsome, yet alarmed face.

“You okay?” His words came gentle and soothing.

Puffing out a small sigh, you nodded tiredly. Being back in the snow felt much better, “Yeah. Thank you,” You croaked out sheepishly.

Seonghwa beamed down at you, before shuffling away so as the snow around you wouldn’t melt. But just as soon as the smile graced his features, it quickly dissipated into a frown, “Don’t scare me like that,” He practically scolded. “You win, okay? Next time we can stay in the snow.”

Breath caught in your throat, a heavy blush laid over your cheeks, “Next time? You just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

“No, I suppose not,” Seonghwa said somewhat nonchalantly, shocking you.

“I… well, thank you for the, well… uhm, getting me back,” You stumbled over your words the longer Seonghwa stared. Oh, what was this man doing to you? “I have some… healer things I need to do… so, I best get going… erm -” Without another thought, you pushed yourself onto your knees, snow crunching underneath your breeches as you leaned over towards him.

He was so warm. His face, especially, once you brushed your far-cooler lips against his cheekbone. The Flamer reared back with a ridiculous, startled expression, eyes comically wide. One of his hands came up to clamp against the cheek you kissed, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out.

“It was really nice talking to you. Thank you again,” You murmured while hiding a grin behind your palm. With that, you turned on your heel and left the blushing Flamer alone in the snow.

From then on, you saw Seonghwa practically every day. Oftentimes, you’d meet in the snow and stroll through the Grey Forest until it got far too warm and the both of you would have to turn back. The moment he’d see your skin dampen with sweat, he’d have the two of you abruptly changing course, steering away from the heat of the Fire Tribe. You thought that was incredibly thoughtful of him.

Once, Seonghwa discovered a more shallower part of the river that you could actually crystalize to keep yourself cool. That day was a good day. You had gently taken his scorching hand and tried to help him run across the ice before his heat could melt it away. The two of you left soaking wet, boisterous grins painted across your lips.

Hongjoong, being your closest friend and all, was constantly questioning and badgering on about where you went every afternoon. After all, you were a healer and your tribe needed you. But, however selfish it was, you didn’t want to stop seeing Seonghwa… he made you feel things no person from the Ice Tribe had ever made you feel.

The more you saw him, the more you had the urge to yank his stupidly sharp jawline towards you and shove your lips onto his. You’d imagine the way the warmth radiating off his skin would feel underneath your frigid palms and lips. You thought back to the second-long cheek kiss you gave him a couple months back, a fond smile tickling at the corner of your mouth.

“What’re you thinking about?” Seonghwa asked from beside you, nudging you slightly. Over a long course of time, the pair of you grew more and more comfortable with one another, inching closer and closer with each meet-up. At this point, you were practically sitting on top of him, one of his legs intertwined with yours and your head laying on his shoulder, the both of you leaning against a frosted tree trunk. Seonghwa smelled of sweet, burning sugar with a heavier scent of roasted coffee beans. He also often complained about how cold you were, although his tone was always fairly light and lacked any true bite.

“Nothing,” You were quick to say, pulling your head away from his shoulder to peer up at him.

Shrugging off your strange attitude, Seonghwa glanced down at you with excited eyes, “You wanna see a new trick I learned?”

Without awaiting your answer (because he knew you’d say yes anyway), Seonghwa cupped his hands together and pulled them away to produce a thin orange flame morphed into the shape of a shooting arrow. You watched in rapt fascination as the fire-arrow spun in the air when Seonghwa whistled sharply. Then, he pushed it away to embed itself into the tree across from you. The tree’s dry bark was quick to catch aflame, but you flicked your hands and caged in the fire with frost, the orange dying out into the blackened wood.

“Learned that during archery,” Seonghwa beamed down at your bemused expression. “You know, only the best Flamers can morph their fires into shapes. It takes a lot of concentration.”

With no effort at all, you twirled your fingers to make an intricate rabbit out of ice, whiskers and fur and all, holding it out to Seonghwa with a minuscule smile. The Flamer scowled slightly, and touched the tip of his finger to the clear crystal, watching it dribble into liquid through the gaps of your palms.

You rolled your eyes to the side before leaning your head back onto his shoulder with a content sigh, “Don’t you compete with me, Park Seonghwa. You’ll never win.”

Much to your surprise, he didn’t bother to argue, and instead pressed his warm nose into your frosty hair, humming, “Yeah, yeah. And who was the one that fainted in the heat again?”

“If I recall correctly, you’ve caught more than three colds just this year! And it’s only the fifth moon, too!”

His hands suddenly darted out to tickle your midriff, to which you squirmed away with a smothered laugh.

“Hm, wanna put it to the test? I promise I’ll go easy,” You said teasingly once you managed to capture his wrists. You could feel his pulse rapidly thumping against the pad of your thumb.

“I don’t know… I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“Trust me, you’re not the one that’ll be hurting.”

“Oh, you’re on, Icer.”

The two of you stumbled onto your feet and you held yourself up in a defensive stance. With a faint smile, Seonghwa mimicked your position. Admittedly, it wasn’t a very fair fight; you were a healer and he was a well-trained fighter.

But nonetheless, you were the first to throw, a frozen ball of ice the size of your fist hurtled towards him at top speed. Seonghwa was quick to react, blasting the ice with orange flames until it melted mid-air. You frowned and lithely dodged behind a tree when he reconjured his fire arrows and sent them after you. In retaliation, you quickly brought up a thick ice barrier with a laugh, smothering the thin lines of fire away with the sole of your boots.

The air was chock-full of his crackling flames muted by your snow, crystalline icicles dripping from nearby tree branches, and lame taunts tossed back and forth by the both of you as you play-fought for another couple of minutes.

Seonghwa might’ve had the upper hand in combat, but you knew how to play dirty. Just as he was stepping forward, you sent a sheet of slippery ice to slide underneath his boots. With a bewildered expression, Seonghwa flailed about for a moment, the small fire he prepared in his palm dying down to glowing embers, before tumbling down into the snow.

“That was low, Y/N,” The Flamer huffed out whilst trying to catch his breath against the pale white mound of snowflakes, glaring at you with playfully narrowed eyes. You were glad to see that he wasn’t actually angry at you.

“Do you call defeat, Seonghwa? There’s no shame in admitting it, you know!” Your jaunts were light-hearted as you walked closer to him and Seonghwa found himself grinning despite the cold stinging his skin.

Sticking your hand out to help him up, Seonghwa eyed you for a moment with an indiscernible expression, his playful nature fading away into something you couldn’t quite decipher.

Instead of pushing himself up, he suddenly pulled you down with him, a startled shriek leaving your lips and echoing across the Grey Forest. You fell on top of him with a grunt of pain, meeting his glowing amber eyes with your confused ones. During your hazy moment of puzzlement, Seonghwa tugged you closer, his warm palms curled around your forearms gently.

And then, without further warning, he kissed you. This one was nothing like the first kiss you gave him. That one was merely an innocent peck on the cheek. But this one… this one held passion and furtive desire and yearning. The both of you most definitely wanted this, it was quite clear by now.

Your senses were overwhelmed in the best way possible. All you could smell was him, the heavy undertone of roasted coffee beans sending your head into a cloudy daze. Your lips were slanted against his hot ones, noses of starkly opposite temperatures bumping against one another in your moment of desperation. You weren’t sure where to place your hands, so you balled them up against his jacket, just close enough to feel the hardness of his chest underneath.

For you, everything was hot, searing with a need for more as his plump, warm lips laid over yours. For him, however, everything was cold. The snow beneath was a mild annoyance, and yet he was willing to bear through it for you. You were equally freezing, but Seonghwa welcomed the cold for once, a dangerous ache that would grow to be lethal if neither of you were careful.

A small, frosty sigh left you when he pulled away for a second to stare at you with those intense eyes of his. You stared back with part-confusion and part-longing, lips agape. That apparently set something off in him, because he sat up with you straddling his hips, hands now encircled around your midriff as he kissed you more passionately, leaning forward so your back arched into him.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Why were you feeling these emotions for a Flamer of all people? Why couldn’t you have just stayed within your own tribe? Turmoil churned about in you as you kissed him in somewhat of a frantic manner. You hated yourself for loving it so much.

The second time he pulled away, you were both gasping for breath, lips swollen and clothes rumpled and askew. You could tell he wanted to kiss you again, and probably a thousand times after that. To be frank, that was all you wanted as well.

But you knew this had to stop. And so, when he leaned forward to capture your lips with his again, you flinched none-too-subtly and slid off his lap. An expression of genuine hurt flickered across his handsome, reddened features. A twinge of guilt gnawed away at your stomach as you got up onto your shaky feet.

“Go home, Seonghwa,” Was all you could find yourself saying with a hoarse voice. “You’re going to catch a cold again.”

You couldn’t look at him anymore. And so, you left him laying crestfallen in the snow, hurriedly making your way back to Icer lands, small blue snowflakes trailing behind you and cold tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

The next day, Seonghwa didn’t show up. You waited by your usual meet-up place, gnawing on your lip anxiously, glancing every which way in hopes of seeing the raven-headed Flamer. In the midst of your worrying turmoil, more and more snowflakes emanated from your skin and it didn’t take long for them to accumulate by your feet, completely covering your boots in a pristilline white blanket. You stepped out of the feather-soft pile, opting to impatiently trudge about in an attempt to steel your nerves.

You hadn’t been able to sleep that night. Seonghwa’s heartbroken expression was imprinted into your mind, leaving you in a mess of guilt and regret and anger.

Why did you have to push him away? Seonghwa, your first non-Icer friend, shoved away as if he meant nothing. You released a frustrated groan, smacking your palm into your forehead.

It made sense that he didn’t want to see you. If you were in his shoes, you probably wouldn’t leave your room and have the light of day touch your face for a whole moon. The idea of Seonghwa upset just didn’t sit right with you. Nonetheless, you could do little else than bide your time for him, however much you hated waiting.

He didn’t show up the next day either. Nor the one after that.

By the fourth day of waiting, you started to feel twinges of discouragement, but you never gave up, determined to set things right with Seonghwa. The niggling thought of him never showing up was one that often pestered you while you patiently awaited his return, although always quickly shoved down into the corner of your mind. You didn’t want to think about what you would do if you never saw him again.

It took just over a week of waiting for him to come back. At that point, you hadn’t thought he’d come back at all, reluctantly accepting that you’ve ultimately ruined your friendship with Seonghwa.

And so, imagine your surprise when his voice rang out through the trees, your name rolling off his tongue smoothly, “Y/N.”

Startled, you flinched so hard that your head hit a branch that hung lowly on the icy tree you were sitting beneath. It reminded you so much of the first time you met him that you couldn’t help but crack a smile after your initial pained grimace.

“Seonghwa,” You gasped, eyes round with shock and mouth agape. “You’re… you’re back!”

The excitement in your voice didn’t go undetected by either of you, but his features were set in stone, unmoving and neutral. Those blazing eyes of his seemed to bore holes into you, and you felt strangely naked underneath his gaze. You noticed that his appearance was more disheveled than ever, eyebags dark and hair not neatly slicked back like usual. He looked broken, but far too proud to admit so.

“Seonghwa…?” You stepped closer, the frosted leafy foliage crumbling under the pressure. This man was someone you deeply cared about, and you knew he felt the same about you.

So why was he staring at you like you meant nothing to him?

A shiver ran down your spine, a sensation that only Seonghwa could bestow upon you. Which was ironic, because the cold feeling that tickled down your spine was ignited by a man with powers of fire and heat.

You and him didn’t belong together. That was clear as day by now.

“Seonghwa,” You mumbled again, reaching out to him once close enough.

He shut his eyes as if looking at you were torture. It stung more than you liked to admit, so you retracted your fingers, clenching them into a fist and dropping them back by your side awkwardly. The air was so tense, so utterly uncomfortable, you could feel the crack in your heart splinter into more branches.

“Stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” Your bottom lip trembled. This wasn’t the Seonghwa you’ve grown to be so fond of. This man scared you. You had half a mind to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense back into him. Where did your Seonghwa go?

An angry huff escaped his lips, misting visibly out of his carmine lips. The very ones you kissed a little over a week ago.

“You can’t… just… don’t say my name. Please. We can’t be like that anymore. We can’t do this. We can’t keep seeing each other.” Seonghwa’s stoic mask disintegrated into raw emotion. He looked to be on the verge of tears, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you mirrored the same exact expression.

There was a part of you that wanted to yell and scream and throw sharp icicles at him until he had no choice but to run back to Flamer territory. Anywhere, as long as it was far away from you. The other, more rational part of you, whispered that he was right. After all, you were the one that pushed him away first. It was only fair.

A broken bone won’t heal if you keep putting pressure on the wound. Being a healer, you couldn’t just ignore your own teachings.

But for just once in your life, you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to hold Seonghwa tightly in your grasp, no matter how dangerous it was. You wanted to call him yours, and you wanted to be his. You wanted to kiss him again, despite the small action being the ultimate downfall for the both of you.

And so you found yourself croaking out, making sure to emphasize his name, “Seonghwa, you know just as much as I do that there’s something here between us. You can’t just ignore it and toss that all out the window!”

His face screwed up in an effort to keep the onslaught of tears at bay. Perhaps what he felt for you wasn’t yet as strong as what he’d call love, but he wasn’t very far from it. He cared too much for you, so much more than anybody else in his life.

He needed you. And because of that, he had to let you go. Fraternizing with the enemy wasn’t something to be taken lightly. If his tribe knew about this little escapade of his, they’d have his head and would finally have a good enough reason to declare war. Regardless, it was only a matter of time. The Fire Tribe has hated Icers for centuries and centuries, teetering on the brink between neutrality and complete bloodshed.

“We have no choice,” The words were said in a low tone, rumbling deep down in his chest. Seonghwa shuffled closer, so close that you could feel his familiar heat wavering against the ice once again. You longed to reach out and place your hand on his chest, feel his heart thumping against his ribcage frantically, just as yours was. “Do you know what they’d do to you - to us - if our tribes found us together? It’s too risky, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.”

“I’m a healer. I can take care of myself! And we can just stay careful like we always have. Besides, people rarely come into the Grey Forest anymore!” Your words came out fast and jittery and panicked. You thought that you had already come to terms with losing the man that stood in front of you, but you were far from acceptance, you knew that now.

Seonghwa carded a pale hand through dark strands of hair, “I’m sorry, were you not the one that told me to go back home? You started this. You wanted this!” He was so agitated that when he swung his arm back to his side, small crackles of fire lit up his fingers.

Something inside you snapped, “I most definitely did not! It was just… all too sudden and I needed time to think. Now that I’ve already thought, there’s no need for us to run away and never see each other again! You’re overexaggerating, Seonghwa.”

“No, you don’t get it. Don’t you know, Y/N? Our tribes are verging on war. We’re supposed to be enemies, you and I. Don’t be daft!” His voice raised a notch or two louder, and you found yourself shrinking into yourself.

Tears pricked your eyes and you looked away from his fierce gaze, “We don’t have to be a part of that. We can just -”

“Just what? Pretend? We can’t play picnic in the forest and act like our people aren’t planning to slaughter each other!”

“You know what?” You shouted so loudly that the birds nesting on treetops fluttered away, a mass of dark wings and agitated squawks. “If you want to walk away from this relationship, from me, then go ahead! I won’t stop you. Fuck you, Seonghwa. Fuck you for throwing this away the moment it became something more.”

“You were the first to push away!” He protested, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“Well, I’m sorry!” You cried out, furiously swiping away the tears that dribbled down your cheeks. “I’m sorry I was scared! I’m willing to try again, but you’re not giving me the chance. I waited for you every day, you know.”

“I know. I saw,” He said, suddenly quiet. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

The two of you stared at each other defiantly, heavy breaths misting the air in front of you. His nose was tinted a deep pink, no doubt because of the cold.

“I’m leaving,” Seonghwa said after a long while. “And you shouldn’t come back here. Ever. I need you to know, Y/N. I’m doing this because I care about you. I expect you to do the same for me.”

Then, after casting you a forlorn expression, he tore his blazing eyes away and stiffly swiveled around in the snow. A gust of wind tousled his hair and he blew out a sigh of pale white mist. The cold made his nose red, and you subconsciously noticed the way he shivered slightly, brushing snowflakes off his sleeve. You’d miss that.

You’d miss him.

His heat grew fainter as his long strides took him further away from you. Your tears had crystallized on your cheeks uncomfortably, a frozen reminder of what you’d lost. You had half the mind to storm right up to Seonghwa and force him to stay here, by your side. That was the child speaking within you, however, and you were no longer a child.

Flicking the solidified salt water on your cheeks away, you did just the same as Seonghwa had minutes ago, trudging your way back to Icer lands. Little did either of you know, the two of you cried fresh tears along the whole journey back.

The last time you ever stepped foot in the Grey Forest was just the day after. Your eyes were puffy and aching, hair a terrible mess, and a wax-sealed envelope was tightly clutched in your hand.

There was a chance that Seonghwa would never come back. In fact, it was most probable that he’d never get the precariously written letter you left by the usual meeting place, considering what he told you yesterday.

Fond memories sunk its sharpened claws into you, stealing away your breath as you cupped both hands over your mouth, overwhelmed in every way possible. You were far too drained to cry, having emptied away all your tears the day before.

And so, you brushed stray snowflakes off the periwinkle-hued wax stamp, placing it down by the tree stump where Seonghwa usually sat.

Then you muttered a quiet, broken goodbye, stomping back to Icer lands. You were never going to see Seonghwa again.

Dear Seonghwa,

I know you told me to never come back. I won’t, I promise. I just wanted to leave the letter because… we never properly got to say goodbye, did we?

Well, congrats, you big dummy. You’re right. You always were, and you always are. We were never supposed to be friends. I mean, I suppose we’re enemies now, aren’t we? It was quite the foolish fantasy we had going on there, huh? I get it, we have to stay loyal to our respective tribes, we can’t risk getting caught, so on so forth. I just hope that when war is declared (which doesn’t seem to be long from now, to be quite honest), I won’t see you on the battlefield. I don’t think I’d be able to handle that.

So, I guess this is goodbye. It’s a little hard to believe that I won’t ever get to see your stupid face again. Remember when I threw a snowball at you so hard that it broke your nose? You panicked and blood went splattering everywhere and it didn’t stop until I got you to calm down. For a highly-ranked Flamer soldier, I’d expect you to be less squeamish at the sight of your own blood. It’s alright, though. As a healer myself, blood still freaks me out just a bit.

I thought I ruined your pretty face for all the poor ladies and gents who were mad in love with you back at the Flame Tribe, and I felt so guilty. And then you smiled! I remember feeling envy and astonishment at the same time because how the hell could one look pretty while smiling through a broken, bloody nose?

I’m glad I didn’t ruin your face, though. You’d probably get really mad at me if I did. But you would’ve forgiven me eventually, right?

Frankly, I don’t know if I deserve your forgiveness for what I did. And no, I’m not talking about hurting your precious face (they say a once-broken nose makes a man more attractive!). I’m sorry for pushing you away, Seonghwa. Really, I don’t know what I was thinking. I was scared and I needed time to think. I hope you understand that. If you don’t, that’s okay as well.

If I could rewind time, I wouldn’t have stopped kissing you. I could’ve carried on for days and days and days on end. Did you know that you’re the second person I’ve ever kissed? Don’t ask about the first, drunk Wooyoung isn’t really something to brag about. Well, for the record, you were the first kiss I actually enjoyed. Congrats.

Of course, all this doesn’t mean that it was entirely my fault. I waited for you for a week, and you did nothing but hide behind trees and watch. That was real shitty of you, to put it plainly.

I’ll miss you, though. I’ve never felt this way about any Icer and I doubt I ever will. Of all people to set my sights on, it just had to be a Flamer. What rotten luck we have.

Goodbye forever, Seonghwa. Stay safe, alright? For my sake.

With much love,

Y/N.

Seonghwa read the letter through so quickly that his pupils seemed to be moving at lightning speed. Then, with a numbed heart, he read it a second time, this time much slower.

By the third time he reread each of your carefully handwritten words, warm tears of salt water were running over his cheeks. His face had grown considerably hotter, the salty liquid steaming misty tendrils against his skin. He was angry. So, so ridiculously angry. At himself, at this stupid rivalry between the tribes, at you for being so goddamn perfect. Of course you’d managed to squeeze in jaunts and jokes in a farewell note.

There was a part of him that wished he’d never come back to the Grey Forest and found the letter. Fat droplets of his tears trickled down his jaw and soaked through the parchment, marring the intricate ink characters. With a gentle sigh, Seonghwa brushed the dampness away and stiffly flicked his wrist.

The letter burst into glowing orange flames. And Seonghwa watched on, stifling down the urge to break down into a fit of chest-wracking sobs, until your goodbye was nothing but a measly pile of blackened ashes on his palm.

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harrysgloves · 4 years

Text

The Devil You Know

Harry Styles x Reader

Story Summary: CEO!Harry punishes reader in his office after catching her flirting with his coworker.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Language // This is just straight up p*rn // Daddy kink // Spanking (belt) // Oral Sex (male receiving) // Vaginal Sex // Anal Sex // Degrading // The slightest bit of choking // Probably a whole lot more that I’m missing // Not edited... sorry

Authors Note: Another work in progress finally DONE! YAY! Hope you guys like it! Feedback is always loved and appreciated so much! Thank you guys so much for reading. xx

>>><<<

Your high heels clicked against the cold marble tile of the lobby floor for the second time that day. Your billowing black winter coat hit your knees with every step you took towards the elevator.

You could have seen him earlier but his secretary swore he was busy. Like he could ever be too busy for you. You scoffed, a roll of your pretty eyes before telling this no-good conniving bitch what was up.

"Tell my daddy that his girl was here," You said, tongue wetting your lips as you leaned over her desk. Your perfectly manicured hands landing loudly over the papers she should have been working on instead of hitting on your man. "And just so we're very clear on something, sweetheart. He's not my father."

You turned on the spot, hips swaying just a bit extra as you marched yourself back down to the elevator. Grumbling under your breath the whole way.

Who did she think she was?

Harry was yours. Your daddy, your sweetheart, your boyfriend. You two had been together for years. Your name was tattooed in red ink on his wrist for fuck sakes but that sense of jealousy burned deep into the pit of your stomach.

The vibration from your phone was the only thing that pulled you out of your thoughts to go up there and teach that girl a lesson on who ran the show around here. His picture flashed across your screen. You scoffed, ignoring the call, and shoving the phone back into your expense handbag. Yes, it was against his stupid rules to ignore his phone calls but you were pissed. He could go screw Karen, or Tina, or whatever her name was for all you cared.

"Bad day?" The sound of another voice in the elevator made you jump. You didn't even notice someone else in here when you got on. How long had he been watching you throw a fit?

"You could say that." You sighed, your back leaning against the cool metal of the elevator as it reached the bottom floor. Door opening to reveal the perfectly decorated lobby floor.

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't have bad days." He flashed a smile towards you when you chuckled, shaking your head at him. He was cute, you'd give him that, but he was no Harry.

"I'll keep that in mind." You said as you started to walk out in front of him. Until your heel caught on the ledge of where the elevator met the floor. Your hands desperately trying to catch onto something before you hit your ass on the ground. You weren't dressed to be falling. A small silk camisole dress paired with no underwear didn't make for a good look if you landed with your legs wide open right now.

Plus, that pretty pink plug Harry had fucked into your ass that morning before leaving you wanting and needy didn't exactly seem like the best thing to be landing on.

The hands around your waist was the only thing that saved you from mortifying public embarrassment. Your arms against his toned chest as he held you inches from the ground.

"Thanks." You breathed out, a cheeky smile on his face when he lifted you back to your feet.

"Well," he said, his arms still on the small of your waist. "I'm part-time broker, full-time knight in shining armor."

You laughed that big deep luscious laugh that made Harry fall in love with you. Your hand ran over his chest to lay back down the collar of his suit that you had grabbed. You backed away without a second thought, thanking him yet again before leaving the building.

Not once seeing Harry's fuming face staring you down from the stairwell.

>>>

"Kristen?" Harry asked as he exited his office. His eyebrows scrunched together when he opened his door to see the new girl sitting there with no you in sight. He could have sworn he heard your voice.

"It's Catherine." She corrected what he assumed to be a flirty look crossed her face as he stood in front of her desk.

"Right. Anyway, was a girl jus' out 'ere looking fo' me?" He asked, describing you down to what you were wearing for the day. The mental picture of you sauntering around the apartment in that fucking dress when he didn't have the time to do what he really wanted to do to you that morning played in his mind.

"Uh, well, someone was but she ran off pretty quickly." She lied with a shrug of her shoulders. Harry's eyes narrowed at her when her cheeks flamed red.

Why did he always end up with the crazy assistants?

"Y'sure 'bout that?" He asked again, his hardening stare made her splutter and crack as he rounded her desk to stand directly in front of her.

"You were busy, Mr. Styles, I sent her away." She mumbled, her eyes flashing away from him when he cursed under his breath.

He already knew what you'd be thinking. His hands fished in his suit pocket for his phone to press your icon. One ring, two rings, voice-mail. He took a deep breath, reminding himself of how insecure you could get sometimes.

Not like you ever needed to be insecure. He thought you were a total knockout. Plus, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you.

"Y'can pack up yeh things." He said as he slid his phone back into his pocket. Her eyes widened at his words, fake apologies started, but he didn't care. He only wanted to make sure you were okay. He needed to reassure you that you had no reason to feel insecure or jealous.

You were the only girl for him.

His fast steps down the stairs got him to the lobby in no time. Whatever thankfulness he had to catch you before you left was gone the second he saw that bastard touch you.

He swore his eyes could have shot flames through that curly headed asshole. His chest pounded with a rage he didn't know he could feel when you laughed. God, that fucking laugh. His tongue wet his lips before his teeth ground together.

You touched him. Your hands ran down his chest, smoothing out his suit, like you'd done for him so many times. Your fingers lingered a second too long. The guys hands tightened into the fleshy curves of your hips a little too much, pulling you in closer to him before you eventually walked off.

Your bouncing ass caught the attention of the guy who had touched you. Shameless staring at his fucking girl while you walked out of the building. He had to repeatedly remind himself that he couldn't beat the shit out of his own employees.

His fist unclenched when you were long gone. He brought his phone out once again to send you a text.

My office. 7pm.

>>>

You stormed through the lobby, up the elevator, not paying any mind to the people around you. Ready to burst into an angry monsoon of jealousy, when the sight of his empty receptionist desk stopped you in your spot. Her things, gone. A baron desk with no sign of a girl simply gone for the evening greeted you.

He'd fired her.

Suddenly, the anger you'd had bubbling in your stomach faded. Replaced with that sinking feeling of guilt. He always seemed to know what was bothering you, even before you talked to him about it. Which was just another one of the many reasons you loved him so much.

You sighed, your shoulders slumped, as your hand laid on the doorknob, knowing he was going to be upset with you. It took everything in you to swing open the door to his office exactly at 7 on the dot. Not a minute early but not daring to be late after your little show of ignoring him earlier.

His stiff demeanor screamed you were in trouble as you shut the door behind you. You swallowed thickly, heels clicking hesitantly against his floor as you made your way to his desk. Your fingers skimming the dark oak wood as you moved around to stand in front of him. Your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you glanced down to see he hadn't moved a muscle.

No words had been spoken through the tense air. No sound dared to come from you. You knew better, knew how upset he got when you ignored him. So you stood, perfectly still in front of where he sat, your sight hyper focused on the scratch marks on his desk instead of his intense eyes.

You'd have to be easier on this desk in the future but you had a feeling today wasn't going to be the day.

"Got somethin' to say fo' yehself?" His voice was hard, leaving no room for your shit tonight. You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat as your eyes finally met his. They were colder than you'd ever seen before.

Usually, when you acted out, he found a bit of humor in it. Teasing you about being nothing but a brat but always letting you know he wasn't going to put up with it. He always went easy on you and honestly, you were a good girl. You almost never broke the rules and when you did, it was something trivial.

You were never one to get in trouble on purpose, at least not with him.

"I'm sorry I ignored your call." You tried to say in the least shaky voice you could manage.

He hummed, acknowledging your words but not accepting your apology. Those dagger like green eyes burned through your body, directly into your soul as his thumb twisted his gold ring on his pointer finger.

"Anythin' else y'need to tell me?" He asked as he raised from his chair. His large chest mere centimeters away from your face as you stood your ground, literally.

"No?" Your eyebrows scrunched as you peered up to him. Utterly confused on why he was so pissed at you.

The sharp stone like features of his face didn't help settle the racing thoughts in your mind. That cold chill that ran down your spine as his lips pressed into a hard line. The back of his hand as it skimmed across the highs of your cheek bone was the only feeling of warmth in the otherwise frigid room.

"Know why I got y'this?" His finger ran across the pink leather of your choker collar, across the gold "H" that was embedded in the middle.

Your big doe-eyes flashed up to him. You didn't sway an inch as his fingers laced through the ring that dangled at the bottom of your choker. His grip was firm around the cool metal. His hold kept in place as he stared down at you.

"Because I'm yours." Your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked at him, not having a clue as to why he needed to remind you.

You gasped as he tugged you forward by your lead. Your feet barely stayed in their spot on the ground as your hands grasped around his arms for balance.

"And do you think I like what's mine flirting in the elevator with my employees?" His words shocked you, stuttering, spits of partial words fell from your mouth as you gaped up at him. "Think I didn't see?"

"Harry, I wasn't flirting with him." You tried to explain away the situation. It was simple, a misunderstanding. "He helped me when I-"

"Did I say y'could use my name?" He practically growled through clenched teeth. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. Boy, were you in trouble.

"No, daddy." Your voice was soft, eyes all dewy as you stared up at him. A show, really, you loved when he got like this. That familiar ache already growing in your core as he dropped the lead on your collar. You quickly stood back up in your place, hands by your side as he stalked around you.

A hunter watching his prey.

"What's y'word?" He asked as he circled back in front of you. His suit jacket was abandoned over the back of the chair. Ringed finger hands loosening his tie around his neck.

"Peony." Your tongue wet your lips as he rolled up his sleeves in front of you. The crisp white linen of his shirt sleeves being rolled up was only a slight distraction from the nod of his head.

"And your hard no's?"

He wasn't fucking around. You considered it for a second, all the things you two had previously taken off the table.

"Still the same." You told him, knowing that this meant he was really going to push you tonight.

He studied you for a second longer. His head dipping down to catch your line of vision, eyebrows raised as if he was mentally asking you the same question again.

"Good." He said when you gave a nod of your head. "Strip."

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. Your hands shook by your side as you clenched and unclenched your fist, once, twice, three times. Just enough to get you in your head space.

The skin on your arms raised in goosebumps as the warm fur lined jacket slid off your shoulders and onto the floor. A pile of useless fabric pulled into a puddle at your feet. Your slip of a dress followed directly after it.

A scoff of a laugh came from him, a shake of his head as he turned away from you. Long, silent, steps over to a much-needed drink from the bar cart in his office. Your eyes lowered to the floor, watching the pacing of his shoes. Ears zeroed into the sound of liquid pouring, a deep gulp, and then more pouring. That lump in your throat grew with every slap of his heel back in front of you.

Of course you had to pick today to be defiant.

"It's like y'wanna be in trouble, baby." He hummed and you swore if you looked at him right now he'd be wearing that smug little smirk.

"Pretty." He mumbled, his fingers dancing across the lacy top of the underwear you'd slipped on when you got home. "Too bad yeh not 'posed to be wearin' 'em."

"Off." He snapped his fingers in front of your heated face. At least he wasn't ripping this pair.

The stringy lace slid down your silky smooth legs. Each high heeled foot stepping out of the leg holes one at a time. Shaky hands handing over the garment you put on in a moment of anger.

Your eyes refused to meet his as he slid the panties into his back pocket. Your lips rolled into your mouth as he stared at you. The heat in your body raised with each passing second as he finished his drink.

God, you'd never been in this much trouble.

"Y'know I was gonna take it a little easy on yeh." His words and the sound of the glass being sat down snapped you out of your fixed trance on the floor. His shiny black shoes disappeared from your line of sight as he circled around you. "Figured my baby girl jus' got protective over her daddy."

His hand ran down your cheek from behind you. Your head instinctively nuzzled into the few fingers that trailed from your jawline to your lips. Chaste kisses pressed to his fingertips.

"But now, I see you need a good lesson on who makes the rules." You gasped when his hand clamped around the front of your neck, your head snapped back roughly against his shoulder. His fingers digging into the side of your neck made you whimpered, a low stirring in your stomach.

His hand released you only long enough to loosen his tie. The fabric you once gifted him for his birthday dug into the skin of your forearms and wrists behind your back. The restraint, a little tighter than usual, not enough to hurt but enough to let you know this wasn't some usual punishment.

"Bend." He said with a tight grip on the tie that held your arms in an uncomfortable position behind you. Your body maneuvered by him until your hips hit the edge of his desk. You gasped as your bare chest was pushed against the cold wood. Your nipples peaked from the sudden ice like material that you now laid halfway over. His hand finally left the intricate knots holding your arms back when your cheek rested on the table top.

"Looks like y'know how to listen when it comes to this." You could imagine his eyes rolling as he stood behind you. His hand ran down your ass, to the plug he'd placed there this morning. A quick tug on the pink silicone drew a whimper from you, your legs shifting back and forth in their spot.

Harry had to hold back a groan as he watched your hips sway. His hand gripped his twitching cock that throbbed in his pants at the sight of your pretty wet pussy already soaking for him. A smirk spread across his lips, his hand gripping the flesh of your round ass again.

His perfect little baby girl was such a whore for him.

Fuck, you were perfect.

"Thinkin' three fo' 'ry rule yeh broke today." His accent somehow thickened the more turned on he got. That heat burned in your stomach that turned in anticipation and a bit of nerves.

"Y-yes, daddy." Your voice betrayed you with shaky cracks.

The room quickly quieted again after his hum of approval. His hand left your ass, left you completely. Silence had you straining your ears for any hint of a sound when you heard it.

That familiar clink of a sound.

You buried your head into the smooth surface of the table, lips pressed against the wood to hide the moan that wanted to slip past your lips. Your core clenched around nothing but air, not sure how this was anywhere close to a punishment when you constantly had to beg him to be this rough with you.

You gasped as the cool leather of his belt ran down the strain muscles of your back. Tauntingly slow as it passed over the fabric of the tie, dancing across your fingers.

"What're in trouble fo'?" He asked from behind you, your lips that had been tightly clamped between your teeth unrolled, just enough to talk.

"Not answering your call, wearing underwear, using your name, and-" you sighed, "Touching another guy." You finally spit out, not wanting to add anymore lashings to your ever growing amount.

"Hm, think'll add three more fo' that one." His voice was hard and cold through the air around you. "Better hear yeh count, sweetheart."

He gave no warning other than that. The sound of the leather slicing through the thickened air in the office was your only clue of what was coming. The sharp snap of the hide hitting the soft flesh of your ass rang through your ears before you felt the sting.

"One." You spoke into the wood. Your nose flat against the desk, hands tightening around your restraint as the shockwaves of a dull pain ran down your spine, directly to your steadily wettening folds.

Two, three, four, more and the spark of a pleasure still burned, lingered down into a blazing river of red marks across your ass cheeks to your pulsating pussy.

"T-t-ten." Your words choked and contracted in your throat when the belt smacked across your ass, five more left and you were determined to make it through. The grunts and groans that rolled from deep in his chest as the leather dug into your flesh again and again. Whimpering sobs, face flushed with tears and mascara as he went harder on you than ever before.

And that fucking plug you decided to keep in.

You were teetering on the brink of your headspace when the final smack came. Your breast smashed against the now warmed surface with the force. You cried, pushed forward into that floating sensation of the deep part of your mind as you were lifted by your restraints. Body maneuvered until you kneeled before him, heels haphazardly kicked off in the motion downwards to the ground.

The searing skin of your ass cooled against the marble floor when your shaky legs gave out to the weight on them. You sighed from the little bit of relief you got, stuffy nose from crying so much, desperately trying to suck air into your lungs. You were too wrapped up in yourself to hear the clank of the belt hitting the floor.

Your foggy mind lifted out of the deep when you felt his hand around the back of your neck, his cold features barely broke through your vision that was clouded with tears.

"What do y'say, baby?" His hand tightened in the hairs at the back of your head. A hard jerk backwards had you gasping in surprise.

You were far from being done with your punishment.

"Thank you, daddy." Your voice cracked from the amount of tears you were holding back. The words you'd spoken did nothing to change his unimpressed facial features, his tongue slid across his front teeth as he studied your mess of mascara and eyeliner.

He stood up abruptly, his hand didn't leave the back of your neck, sufficiently holding you up from your ass resting on the cool tile.

"Yeh know, darlin', daddy doesn't punish yeh as much as he should. That's on me more than yeh. Should've put yeh in y'place more often, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened up to him. Whatever shred Harry always kept of himself while he was in this role was abandoned. No, now, he was fully in his dominant role. The waves of demand rolled through every part of him. His voice, his demeanor, his words.

"That's okay though, baby, gonna learn who yeh belong to. Isn't that right?" He practically cooed at you. A mock tone that made your face heat as blood rushed to your face.

"Yes, daddy." Your chest seemed to heave with anticipation.

"Open." He said as his hand clamped your mouth open for you. Your obedient tongue sticking out for him before you even had a chance to think twice about it.

Harry hummed as he stared down at you. The hand that was around your jaw slipped into your open mouth. His finger fucked into your open and waiting throating. Your legs tightened together as his smirk grew wider at your movement.

Sure, you weren’t supposed to move but God, you always wanted it so bad he couldn't help the turning of his lips.

He lowered himself to your level. No words were said as he loosened your restraints. The fabric that held your arms back finally, finally, was gone. Your body slacked forward as Harry backed away from you. His towering form loomed over you as your hands fell forward to hold yourself up.

The strain on your muscles in the back seemed to lift only momentarily before he guided you upwards by your upper arm. Your back on the now warmed surface of the desk, your head hanging off the side, your freed hands clutched beside you as your anticipation for what was coming grew.

"Gonna show me how sorry yeh are, darlin'." His throbbing cock was finally released from its confinement. The hard, pulsating, tip was red and aching for relief. Only millimeters from your upside-down vision.

Your legs spread wider at the sight of him. Your toes pointed against the smooth oak, your arousal felt like it could have been running in a river down your legs as you licked your lips. Your mouth opened without any demand from him as he stroked his cock in front of you.

"Good girl." He groaned, his hand guided himself into your mouth.

You always had a hard time taking him. He was just so big, so thick. Your tongue pressed against his tip as he slowly rocked into you. His hands grasped onto your breast as his cock slid further and further down your throat.

You moaned around his member that stretched open the sides of your mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat, breathe through your nose.

"Relax yeh throat." He grunted as your throat constructed around him again. The irritated tone in his voice only made your slick folds drip with your arousal.

"I said to relax." He said once your gag reflex halted his movement for a third time. A harsh slap of his hand landed on your open and waiting cunt. You would have yipped at the feeling if you could have. He ceased your moment of being off guard to finally push himself fully inside.

You moaned the best you could as your throat finally relaxed. His balls rested against your nose, the crotch of his pants and zipper rubbed against your face but you didn't care. He felt so good in your mouth.

You heard him let out a moan as you felt your nipples harden. His fingers lazily rubbed at your swollen clit as he slipped down your mouth.

"Why can't yeh be a good girl like this all the time for me, baby?" He asked as his hand held the back of your neck. His hips picking up to a pace that was almost too much for you. "So much fuckin' better for me when yeh jus' a hole for me to fuck."

He pulled out of you suddenly. A string of your spit connected from his red tip to your mouth before he bent down to your level. The look behind his eyes was intoxicating. Fuck, he was enjoying this.

"Gonna have to keep you tied up to my desk, aren't I? Only time yeh good for me if when yeh have a cock stuffed in you."

"I'll be good." You said as he stood back up. His hands gripped your thighs to turn your body around like a rag doll, your ass in the air as your face laid on the desk, again.

"Be good, huh?" He teased his tip against your opening, a deep groan left him from just how fucking wet you were. "Yeh call throwin' yehself at my employees bein' good?"

"I didn't." You pouted, your bottom lip stuck out even though he couldn't see it. His cock parting the folds of your pussy, the thick tip against your sensitive clit had your hips shifting.

You wanted him to stop being mad at you and just fuck you already.

"If I wanted someone else to touch yeh I would have told them to." He started to slip into you, the overwhelming sense of him starting to stretch you already filled you. Blood rushed to your lightheaded head as you restrained yourself from pushing backwards onto him.

"Such a tight cunt." He grunted as the thought from your earlier run in fell from his mind. Your velvet caves pulled him, his anger melted away as you clenched around him.

A hard thrust forward had him directly on your sweet spot, your eyes rolled back in your head as you held on tightly to the front of the desk.

He wasn't messing around and he wasn't holding back.

You could feel his hip bones smacking against the abused flesh of your ass. The sting sent an electric shock through your body as he wrecked you. You could feel him pounding all the way into your lower stomach as your jaw unhinged from a sea of moans.

"Think he could fuck yeh better, sweetheart?" Harry asked as he pulled on the plug in between your cheeks. His cock rammed into you as the silicone slipped out.

"No." You finally managed to get out an answer through your moans, your wrecked vocal cords cracked until he let up. You almost turned around but you knew better, the sound of his bottom draw opening gave away his next move.

You two needed to fuck at his office less. He had way too much sex shit laying around here.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the cold gel of his lube coated fingers slipping into your tighter hole. Your breath caught in your throat as he slid back inside of your pussy. Your eyebrows furrowed together from the overwhelming sense of pleasure that pulsed through your veins.

"Such a slut, know that?" He spoke as a second finger joined his first one, fucking you open enough to take him. "Lemme fuck yeh in ever hole in my office."

"Fuck." You moaned into the wood, your hands gripped around the front edge of the desk as he pulled himself out of you, a generous amount of lube slathered across your hole before he put some on himself.

He took a second just admiring your wrecked state. Your pussy opened wide for him, able to be fucked so easily now that he'd destroyed it. Your ass shined red with lash marks, your hair a complete mess.

He had to stop himself from shooting a load into his own hand. His thoughts getting the best of him as he stroked himself from behind you. His tip pressed into you slowly as he waited for your muscles to relax.

You felt like you could have bit your bottom lip off from how tightly it was tucked under your teeth. Your nails dug into the desk as he pushed further into you, his head finally getting past your tight ring. His hips laid flat against your ass, his hands pulled back each cheek to get a good look at himself stretching you out.

"Gonna ruin you for anyone else. Y'understand?" He mumbled into your ear as he pulled up to his chest by the front of your neck.

"Yes, daddy." You squeaked out as he finally moved his hips. His head rested against your shoulder as you let out a sound you never wanted to admit to making. His cock hit all the right places, the stretch wasn't painful but you were so tight there you could feel every one of his veins pushing against your walls.

You felt so full of him it was almost overwhelming. You could feel every throbbing jump of his cock as he pumped in and out of you. His grunts as his teeth dug into your shoulder, his fingers from his free hand swirled around your clit while his other one squeezed the sides of your neck.

Your arousal slicked all the way down to your shaky knees as your body bounced against his cock. You panted out moans as your body burned red hot. Your orgasm was just on the horizon, so close you could hardly keep your eyes open.

"Gonna cum with daddy's cock in yeh ass?" He asked even though you had no idea how he managed to put together words in this moment. Your own mind wasn't able to let you do anything more than nod.

"Cum for me then, pet." His finger pressed down harder on your clit, cock shoved deeper inside of you.

Your vision blacked around the edges, body shook, your high washed over your head all the way down to your toes. The sound of your moans carried through the office, down the halls of the almost emptied building. Your mind barely had time to put together the fact he'd pulled out of you.

Until he slammed back into your cunt.

A warmth filled you as you whimpered, your body slacked in his arms as his cum dripped out around himself.

"I gotcha." He mumbled as he moved you both into his office chair. Your makeup smudged face pressed into his chest as you came down from your high. His hand ran across your back in soothing circles.

"Baby, yeh did so good." He said into your hair, his lips pressed in light kisses against your scalp. "Such a good girl. Made me feel so good, baby."

"Gonna take yeh home and get yeh a bath, hm?" He asked when your body felt less limp. You hummed your agreement, head still in that floating space for a second.

"Harry, you know I didn't flirt with him, right?" You asked after a moment. Your fingers danced across his bicep absentmindedly.

"Yeah, jus' like yeh know I didn't sleep with my secretary." He let out a chuckle when you raised your head to pout at him. "Gave me a good reason to fuck yeh like that though."

"Shut up." You muttered to him. Your eyes rolled as he gave you a stern look.

"Pup, I jus' fucked yeh into next week, do not start with me again."

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x you #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Smut #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Writing #Mine #One Shot

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siriusmydeer · 3 years

Note

For the Thank You Next can you do Imagine with James Potter?

thank you, next.

james potter x slytherin!fem!reader

summary: you go through the stages of love till you find your person.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mutual pinning, over use of sarcasm it’s so bad, SWEARING, kissing, mentions of kissing, mentions of an arm falling off, mentions of injury

—0:00

‘Thought I'd end up with Sean

But he wasn't a match

Wrote some songs about Ricky

Now I listen and laugh

Even almost got married

And for Pete, I'm so thankful

Wish I could say "thank you" to Malcolm

'Cause he was an angel’

one day, when you’re young, your mother tells you, ‘there’s lots of fish in the sea, but you have to wait for the right catch’ or maybe that was just your deranged mother. normally, you thought all of that was bullshit. a slytherin princess should never be mistreated, someone whomst you honour and adore with all in your beating heart; turns out slytherin boys didn’t get the fucking memo.

the only person who did understand was the one and only, regulus arcturus black. but you unfortunately lacked sexual attraction to him so therefore you couldn’t date him, so that was a feigning issue. evan rosier was fit, top of his classes and a quite nice mop of blonde on his head, he was a quidditch player and a pureblood slytherin; so etiquette is to be clearly expected. too other schoolmates, especially the fawning girls of almost every house, he was probably the full package, one of the alpha males that roamed the hallways at hogwarts; oh were those girls the biggest knob heads to exist.

turns out he was just the biggest fucking dick to ever walk the planes of the earth, he ran around with idiots like lucius malfoy— another mistake of the century, and little severus snape; thank merlin, and salazar slytherin themselves you never resorted to him.

‘One taught me love

One taught me patience

And one taught me pain

Now, I'm so amazing

Say I've loved and I've lost

But that's not what I see

So, look what I got

Look at what you taught me

And for that, I say’

normally your first couple of boyfriends should teach you something out of the relationship, maybe what you needed to strengthen for the next time you were in an intimate relationship, like trust, communication, maybe even sexual intimacy.

all these absolute dunces taught you was to pick your boyfriends better, and to stay away from every slytherin male that had ever entered hogwarts. evan— oh, he only taught you that everyone and everything was a priority over you, always the ‘talk to you later.’ and the casual, ‘blowjob?’ comments; absolutely fucking arse. lucius, couldn’t forget his moto in your mind even if you jammed it in your strongly-witted brain that money was power and money over any atom to every exist.

regulus understood, strict pureblood parents but he still understood how to treat a partner. i guess it was nice not picking up every habit of walburger and onion— sorry, walburga and orion, noble heirs of the house of black. yeah, did i mention they were second cousins?

‘Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next (next)’

“you could always hang out with my brothers mates, i see them not casually oogling you.” oh regulus, sometimes you did lack the slytherin wit and ambition. he was sprawled on the malachite coloured couch, a pearly white quill fumbled between his slender digits as he started aimlessly into oblivion at the dying out fire in the midst of the frigid common room.

“yeah, let me go hang out with my best friends brothers friends, slytherin haters! such a good idea, reg. maybe they should’ve put you in ravenclaw from that amazing idea!” if you were sarcastic before, there aren’t a non-vulgar amount of words in the universe to describe the tremendous mockery in your tone; as you intensely stared into the crevices of the ceiling while laying on the opposite viridescent sofa.

“merlin, tone down the sarcasm a bit? i was just offering, it’s not like your a pureblood, or a prat.” regulus offered, looking at your form, your elbow now covering your eyes and making recurring heavy sighs every few minutes. “being a half-blood is enough for hatred, regulus, m’dear.” you sighed again, in defeat. hopeless romantic and hated by many, fantastic, am i right?

‘Spend more time with my friends

I ain't worried 'bout nothin'

Plus, I met someone else

We're havin' better discussions

I know they say I move on too fast

But this one gon' last

'Cause her name is Ari

And I'm so good with that (so good with that)’

don’t think, breath and just do what your heart tells you to. fuck that— panic, cry, scream, whatever, be scared. you were gaping at the red mass and overdue of shades, it wasn’t ugly but definitely not the prettiest colour to exist; mixed with mustard yellow. gryffindor students absolutely covered in both. well students, no, james potter, yes.

he happen to be your victim, well friend of sirius; regulus did say after all they oogled you, whatever that meant. you both played quidditch, pretty decent grades, both had good humour, your more so, i mean c’mon you couldn’t find that wit just anywhere, and well you could be best friends. well friends, acquaintances, maybe one, possibly. if only you had the confidence of a leo male, all you needed was to strut over to the damn quidditch field and say something, literally anything.

so that’s exactly what you did, your shoes crunching against the no-longer damp grass, dry after morning dew showers. your bag hanging off of your left arm, your head preoccupied with ways on how to greet someone because slytherin etiquette right now was not the way to go; it would only cause assumptions and stereotypes. i mean who the actual fuck says, ‘how do you do?’ anymore.

‘She taught me love (love)

She taught me patience (patience)

She handles pain (pain)

That amazing (yeah, she's amazing)

I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah)

But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah)

'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah)

Ain't no need for searching

And for that, I say’

enemies, nope. acquaintances, don’t think so. friends, getting there. close friends, i would say. if someone ever said they saw james fleamont potter hanging around a slytherin they would’ve assumed that someone was knocked upside the head with the biggest beaters bar you could find, but the green and red weren’t that bad of a mix after all.

henceforth, here you were giggling like school girls with james fucking potter right by the black lake. “james, respectfully, stop carrying that stupid snitch everywhere. doesn’t it weigh down your pockets?” you queried the boy who was fumbling with the golden snitch for the past three minutes, flipping his hair so he could knock the brunette tendrils from his eyes while he gaped at you.

you were glowing— the sun at its highest peek, he could’ve been on his knees thanking albus dumbledore in his office for free period; knowing james we would’ve offered to comb his beard and maybe even a shampoo and condition it while he was at it.

your eyes glittered as you chortled at him for dropping that stupid ball for the third time, your hair dancing in the wind like it was a routine, a perfect routine, your teeth glinting at the suns ethereal rays that hit you just right. imagine if james’ foolish cocky mask instead would’ve rejected your offer of friendship that one humid day on the quidditch pitch— he would’ve been the biggest git to ever stride the planet.

‘Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (said thank you, next)

Thank you, next (next)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next

Thank you, next’

friends, that’s what it was suppose to be. pals, mates, schoolmates, whatever the fuck you called it. it wasn’t suppose to be frenemies, to friends to lovers! you weren’t suppose to notice the navy blue flecks of colour in his cerulean eyes, the way his lips curled in a smile after he caught that silly snitch that blazed the thick sure after a hefty match, the way he brushed the tresses of hair behind your ears when the wind was assaulting your face and you were basically swallowing your hair.

now sitting with him in the library you were mentally stabbing your stygian heart, why men. why do they do things, why do men sometimes have the decency to show sympathy, and partiality with their friends. he hugged you, he kissed your forehead when you felt dejected, james potter went through the slytherin common room to bring you chocolates on your period. which fucking gryffindor would do that, huh? definitely not frank longbottom or fabian prewett.

his hand scathed yours as he pointed at how to make a draught of peace potion, his hand was warm and smooth but only from what you touched— you could see slight callouses forming on the pads of pads palm from broom handling, and the small cracks in his knuckles from the lacking use of lotion. you felt the rapid rate of your heart merely increasing at the minute from the slight touch, a rush of rose clouded your cheeks. this was so embarrassing.

‘One day I'll walk down the aisle

Holding hands with my mama

I'll be thanking my dad

'Cause she grew from the drama

Only wanna do it once, real bad

Gon' make that last

God forbid something happens

Least this song is a smash (song is a smash)’

you were mid flight, smashing a bludger in the direction of the vermillion colours. even when you were immensely sweaty, intensely panting, abundantly tired, and your arm looked like it wanted to fall off he wanted to kiss the energy back into you. james loved winning against slytherin, it might’ve been his favourite thing at hogwarts; but he would murder a pack of death eaters if it meant he got to see your smile when your emerald-clad seeker clutched that small golden ball.

both teams landed, a handshake due for the game to be over after almost two continuous hours of playing and that stubborn ball blazing the air. he meant to walk over there, a hug overdue in his prideful way of saying congratulations but he did not think that he would’ve strided over to your panting figure and clasped your soft cushion lips with his own parched ones from the continuous heaving in his breath.

your lips tasted of peach, hints of mango. your lips dried of chapstick but still smooth— feeling the grooves in your lips, they were puffy and swollen probably from the tremendous amount of times you had bitten your lips in anxiety. your lips disconnected for a moment, suddenly realizing that you had an audience of your fellow slytherins, your enemy gryffindors and not one but two shocked crowds of hufflepuffs and ravenclaws suddenly watching the private scene unfold.

james cleared his throat, looking at your grinning face that was encased between his palms, your face was significantly flushed, your chest moving every millisecond at the loss of breath in your lungs. “good, uh, good game james.”

‘I've got so much love (love)

Got so much patience (patience)

I've learned from the pain (pain)

I turned out amazing (turned out amazing)

I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah)

But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah)

'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah)

Ain't no need for searching

And for that, I'll say’

cocky, quidditch captain, school prankster, pureblood gryffindor, and head boy. that to the peering eyes of hogwarts was james potter, but he was so much more than that. he was like an onion, gross comparison but for the sake of it you’ll use it, he had layers but everyday it’s like you cried a little less and you peeled just a bit more.

he was benevolent, he guided first years to common rooms and sometimes he studied with fourth year hufflepuffs. he was sensible, sometimes, he helped out madame pomfrey in the healers wing when remus had been injured from a full moon along with any remaining students in the ward from previous incidents, not to mention, you did uncover remus’ ‘furry secret’ and swore to secrecy. and most of all, james was cherishing, he actually did give a fuck when you had a bad day, he stroked your back and hummed you stupid baby lullabies.

i mean could you imagine lucius malfoy and evan rosier humming a girl lullabies when they were upset? celebratory kisses after quidditch, bringing you snacks while you were overwhelmed in school work and actually made an effort in the relationship? they would’ve bought you a pair of red bottoms and called it a day.

‘Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (said thank you, next)

Thank you, next (next)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next

Yeah’

there was infact one thing that your past relationships taught you;

never date a man to ever be put in the slytherin house ever again.

taglist: @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @maddoxsmythologicalmind @amourtentiaa @msmb @five-cups-of-coffee @emmaev @serenitywilderness @spencerfuckingreidswhore @artemis1orion @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @dear-luna @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul @sirius-animagus

#james potter one shot #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #harry james potter #james potter x oc #james potter x you #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #james potter series #james potter supremacy #james potter smut #james potter angst #james potter fanart

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lag1995-fics · 3 years

Note

Hii. Can I request anything with pre- cult Kai and fem reader with a reader that's really happy and bubbly? It could be a fic, headcanonns, literally anything lol. I love your writing 💙💙

Of course you can love, I hope you enjoy this ❤️

Crushing

Pairing: Pre Cult Kai/ bubbly reader

Words: 1506

Warnings: POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️⚠️⚠️ This will contain sexual harassment and assault it isn’t graphic but some may feel uncomfy, this fic also features heavy language

Summary: Kai and Reader have both had crushes on each other but have consistently brushed their feelings off they both felt the other was simply unattainable. A bad experience ends up bringing them together.

Masterlist

///::::///

You had always been a bubbly person, the type that usually had a grin spread across her face. You had the biggest crush on your friend Winter’s older brother. You were one hundred percent positive that you were not his type. He was sarcastic and a little mean at times, you were an absolute giggle box who always had a kind word and a smile for almost everyone.

What you didn’t know, was that you were not the only person with a crush. Kai had been mesmerized by the way you floated through life like you had a bubble to protect you from all the grubby thorns that were society. You never caught him but he would stare at you when you came to visit Winter. The entire family loved you actually and Kai’s father would often tease him about you when you were out of the room.

You never expected anything to come out of your silly little crush and neither did Kai for that matter. He had actually put you up on a bit of an unfounded pedestal in his own mind. You were too pure for anyone himself included. He didn’t want to see anyone crush your spirit it was something he loved about you.

Kai couldn’t control the world though, and the world was a dark miserable place that was full of dark miserable people. You were someone who was remarkable though, you seemed untouched by the dark miserable world in his mind. The darkness of the world affects everyone sometimes though and it did eventually catch up to you.

***

You had been walking home from work in the rain, face tilted to sky as the soft drops of water tickled your skin. You hadn’t noticed the strange customer who had been watching you at the coffee shop where you worked. You also hadn’t noticed him follow you out of the shop too busy watching your bright yellow converse splash happily in the puddles on the grubby side walk.

It hadn’t taken him long to act when you had turned onto a fairly deserted road. He had caught up to you and began to walk in step with you. Red flags went up immediately in your head but you as always held out hope that maybe this person was just being friendly.

“Hey baby girl,” his tone was slippery and disgusting. You couldn’t help the trill of fear that went down your spine.

“Hey, please don’t call me that,” you muttered, probably more politely than you should have.

“Oh so you’re a frigid bitch that can’t take a fuckin compliment!” His tone had shifted from slick to intimidating in the span of a few seconds. This man was everything your mother had taught you to fear. You also wished you had started carrying personal protection like Winter had suggested, weapons made you uncomfy though.

“Excuse me I need to get home people are waiting for me” you babbled picking up your pace to try and put distance between himself and you. Before you got very far his large hand reached out wrapping around your forearm with a bruising tightness. You yelped, reaching into your pocket with your free hand to hit your emergency dial.

“I wasn’t done talkin to you bitch don’t think I didn’t notice you ignoring me at the stupid little coffee shop” your fear level was almost maxed out now and you could faintly hear Winter screaming in your pocket from where you had emergency dialed her.

“Please I don’t want any trouble, I haven’t done anything to you,” you tried to reason with the mad man. Before the man could utter another word a car screeched to a halt in the middle of the street.

Kai had been driving down the road on his way back home when he saw a familiar polka dot rain jacket being assaulted by some grubby asshole. He had slammed on his breaks and jerked his old beater of a car into park. He flew out of the car dashing to your side.

“Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Of. Her.” He hissed as he stepped between you and your assailant. The man released her arm like it shocked him as Kai glared at him with angry brown eyes.

“Sorry man, I didn’t know she had a fuckin boyfriend she should have said something,” the man backpeddaled.

“It shouldn’t matter if a person has a boyfriend or not! No means no asshole!” You shouted the fear draining from you being rapidly replaced by righteous anger.

“If I ever see you again I’ll be the last person you’ll ever see fuck face” Kai spat angling himself rven further infront of you as the man ran off.

As soon as the man was gone Kai spun so that he was facing you. His eyes ran down your body looking for any possible injuries. Water dropped from his wild brown curls as he checked you over. He was careful not to touch you but you weren’t having any of that, you launched yourself into his arms your own wrapping around his surprisingly muscled middle.

“Thank you, you saved my ass,” you mumbled into his soaked t-shirt, happy that the rain was hiding your tear stained cheeks.

“You scared me to death, let’s get you home,” he brushed off your thank you. Like he could let someone try to hurt the only good thing in his world. He guided you to his car that was still parked in the middle of the road with the engine running.

Once you weee safely inside and he was driving again he turned to you. You couldn’t help the heat that filled your cheeks at his pointed gaze. You had never been alone like this with Kai before and it was frankly overwhelming.

“Why were you walking home, I know you have a car?” Kai asked his tone still full of worry. He would personally pay to have your car fixed if it was out of commission.

“I always walk when it’s raining, rain is my favorite” you blushed at how childish it sounded coming from your mouth. He let out an exasperated chuckle.

“Of course you do! Your a living breathing chick flick!” His tone was exasperated but lighthearted in a way.

“Hey! I resent that!” You shot out indignantly, “if I were a living breathing chick flick I would get the guy.”

Kai couldn’t help but look at you like you were dumb his brown eyes scanning your face to make sure you weren’t pulling his leg.

“Y/n you could literally get any dude you wanted, you’re freaking adorable” He sounded stunned that you would think such a thing. You rolled your eyes you didn’t need your best friend’s older brother blowing smoke up your rear.

“Adorable girls don’t get the guy Kai-Kai, hot girls get the guy” you rolled your eyes elbowing him gently. You didn’t know it but you were the only person in the world allowed to call him Kai-Kai. He pulled into your driveway still looking at you like you had grown three heads.

“You’re not serious y/n” Kai asked incredulously running a hand through his wet brown curls.

“Kai-Kai you don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m your sisters best friend” you rolled your eyes, moving to get out of Kai’s car.

“Give me your pinky” his voice sounded strange. Still you flashed him a goofy smile holding out a painted pinky. He linked his pinky with your own his was much larger and warmer.

“You know how a pinky swear works right?” He asked and you nodded still confused on where he was going with this.

“Yeah you can’t break a pinky swear” you replied.

“Well I pinky promise to tell you the brutally honest truth no sugar coating” he declared.

“Okay” you replied still a bit confused.

“Y/n I have wanted you from the moment you opened your mouth and that perfect giggle floated out. You ate everything I’m not. You’re a happy go lucky girl and I’m just some internet troll that enjoys getting a rise outta people,

“You’re way to good for me and I would never even bother to think that you would ever be interested in me. But you gotta stop this self deprecating bullshit. You are the most beautiful human I know inside and out” he ranted and you could only stare at him in shock, floored by his revelation.

“You like me?” You questioned your voice soft and squeaky.

“Hell yeah! How could anyone not like you y/n?” He too sounded surprised.

You unlatched your pinkies trying not to overthink what you were going to do next. You stared into Kai’s piercing brown eyes gathering your non existent courage. You leaned forward pushing forward with your hands on his console. Your lips connected in a searing kiss his lips scorched your own as he kissed you back with a fierceness, his hand burying itself in the back of your hair.

Sorry this took so long I was exhausted and time got away from me ❤️❤️❤️. Much love and thanks for reading.

#pre cult Kai #evan peters #kai x reader #kai anderson x reader #protective Kai Anderson #kai #kai anderson #kai x reade #kai angst #pre-cult Kai Anderson #reader insert #ahs fanfiction #ahs cult

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sugarless--girl · 4 years

Text

Tender Hearted Fools

Tanjirou has been hit by a demon blood art that slowly freezes his heart. Zenitsu melts it.

This was done for a Zentan Secret Santa exchange over at the 'Gentle Scent and Sound' server! It came out way longer than I intended it to be tbh. I was hurrying to finish this but it just. Kept. Building.

Well, I got it done anyhow. Unfortunately, I did not get it beta-read so apologies for any mistakes. I suck at catching my own errors so it's entirely possible I have quite a few in there. Even so, I hope it's a good read!

This was done for Lisfranc over there! I hope you enjoy it, hun!

Read on Ao3

Tanjirou didn’t know how long he had been sitting there. The demon was long gone by now but her word’s rang clearly in his head.

“I’ll make sure you regret this! Even through my death—you took what was most important from me and now—! Now I’m going to make sure you’ll never feel anything again for the rest of your life!”

He had felt sorry for her—the tears in her red eyes had caused him to pause momentarily, causing her to get an attack in. It hadn’t hurt and that was what scared him the most.

What had the demon hit him with?

The thought lingered in his head as he slumped into a sitting position. And then he stayed there.

***

His chest burned. It felt like hours. Why wasn’t he moving?

Tanjirou tried to move his fingers and they cooperated, albeit slower than he would’ve preferred. It was discomfiting. There was a chill creeping through his body that felt colder than the snow surrounding him.

But the environment didn’t help either. The wet snowflakes that fell on his skin stung. It hurt. Why did it hurt?

Tanjirou needed to get back. Nezuko was waiting for him. But would she be upset to see him give up so easily at a bit of cold? Would she hate him? The piercing chill hurt his chest even more.

What would the others think? How would they react?

Shinobu’s scent of anger would turn toward him. Inosuke would yell at him and regard him as weak. Kanao would disregard him coldly and perhaps simply say nothing. Zenitsu would…

Would Zenitsu be disappointed in him if he laid here forever?

“Get up, idiot! Don’t fall asleep in the snow!”

The frigidness eased up. Tanjirou moved forward.

***

Tanjirou would stop every now and then when the frosty chill stopped him. Somehow thinking about disappointing others would make the ice in his heart grow more pronounced. He would touch his chest every now and then found it freezing. Was it all in his mind or was it real?

Thus, he decided not to think of the others.

Instead he thought of Zenitsu. Zenitsu with his bright smile, his obvious delight when complimented, his strong thighs that came from perfecting his Thunder Breath, his lovely yellow eyes, his—his—

And suddenly Tanjirou was running back to the Butterfly manor. A laugh startled from him once he realized that the cold had receded within him.

(Now, why was it that the thought of Zenitsu solved his problem?)

***

“So, you’re saying you can move now? Despite being unable to move before?” The skepticism was clear in Shinobu’s tone. “Were you doing anything in particular before you dealt with the demon blood art?”

Tanjirou scratched his neck. Zenitsu and Inosuke were hovering nearby, both clearly worried on his behalf.

“Not really? I mean, I was thinking of Zenitsu but—”

“What?!” Zenitsu’s voice rang loud in the clinic.

“Gonpachirou, what did that demon lady look like? The Great Inosuke will defeat her for you!”

Aoi smacked the two of them. “God, shut up both of you! Shinobu-sama, do you want me to kick them out? I’ll kick them out.”

Shinobu didn’t appear to pay the three of them any mind. “You—you thought of Zenitsu? Huh.” She leaned back and looked over him with an assessing eye. Her gentle smile was gone and instead an expression of intrigue was in place.

“I—yeah. Is that weird?”

“Wh-what does that even mean?” Zenitsu’s face had a pink tint to it and Tanjirou couldn’t help but admire how it lit up his features. The smell of mortification wafted from him and he only felt a bit sorry that he had embarrassed his friend in such a way.

“It depends. Do you mind telling me about the demon once more? I believe I may have heard of her before.”

Tanjirou nodded. “Okay, well she wore...”

***

Shinobu thoughtfully tapped her chin as Tanjirou finished the description of the woman. Zenitsu watched him with wide, terrified eyes (he hated seeing his friend in distress). Aoi struggled to keep her annoyed expression on but her worried scent gave away her true thoughts. And Inosuke—well the boar head didn’t show much but his scent had vague hints of protectiveness and a whole lot of competitiveness.

It warmed him to see that his friends were still who they were. That they still cared.

(Why wouldn’t they?)

“I’ve heard of this demon before. I believe she terrorized many humans before the Demon Corps got involved. From that point on, she hid so that she wouldn’t encounter any of us.” Shinobu got up and walked to grab some medical supplies. “From what I’ve heard, her demon blood art is a slow-acting one. It slowly kills those that have been hit with it.”

“So Tanjirou’s gonna die?” Zenitsu worried his lips. The pink tongue that darted out distracted Tanjirou momentarily but Shinobu pulled his attention back once more.

“Possibly. It all depends whether or not we kill the demon first. Or—” Shinobu hesitated. “There’s a back-up option based on the rumors I’ve heard. It’s turned into a bit of a legend actually.”

“Legend?” Tanjirou prompted.

Shinobu placed the medical supplies next to him with pursed lips before quickly plastering on her typical smile. “Well, let’s not rely on any myths, okay? I’ll send out Inosuke and Kanao to take care of the demon. The two of them should be able to handle it!”

“What about Monitsu! He’s strong when he’s asleep!”

“There are so many things wrong with what you just said! First of all—”

“I’ll have to keep Zenitsu around for...well, backup. There’s a couple things I need to test.” Shinobu’s smile was mysterious and her scent lost a bit of the anger before intensifying. Tanjirou didn’t know where her anger was directed at. Toward the demon? Or...toward him?

The chill started creeping back in.

“Shinobu-sama, should I help with you on the tests and such?” Aoi said, pulling Tanjirou out of his strange thoughts once more.

“Ah, yes. I’d appreciate that. Aoi. Now, off you go, Inosuke-kun! Kanao should be out in the front!” Shinobu said, smiling at the boy with a board head. She turned back to Tanjirou. “Now then, shall we get some tests done?”

***

Inosuke and Kanao were gone. Tanjirou didn’t know why he knew this but as he laid in bed with a dull ache ringing through his chest, he figured it had to do something with the blood demon art that he was stuck with.

No one was left in the infirmary. Shinobu insisted on keeping him under observation for a few days longer. Truthfully, Tanjirou felt guilty even taking up her time.

Useless.

The coldness of his inner thoughts shocked him. He blinked his eyes open and sat up on his bed. The room was dark and cold. So cold. Was it always this cold?

The warm glow coming from underneath the door seemed even more distant than usual. Tanjirou wanted to get up and go to it but he couldn’t. His body felt too heavy. The chill brought up an impervious tiredness within him. It felt impossible to fight.

He fell back onto his bed and slept fitfully.

***

Tanjirou awoke to a chill seeping through his bones, into his very core being. He shivered but the slight movement wasn’t enough to affect any of the despairing cold he felt then and there.

He heard whispering. Or rather whispered shouting. “—You need to trust Shinobu-sama! And me! She wouldn’t make you do something you absolutely didn’t have to.” That sounded a lot like Aoi and Tanjirou only confirmed moments later with his nose. For some reason, his sense of smell was dulled greatly. It was disconcerting.

“I do!” That was definitely Zenitsu. He could smell the distinct scent of peaches and peach blossoms that belonged to the lightning user. “And don’t like—you’d absolutely make me do something I didn’t have to do, just to have one up on me!”

“Okay, but this isn’t a situation I’m trying to be petty—”

“So, you admit it!”

“Shut up, idiot!” Aoi and Zenitsu both smelled tense. Tanjirou, still groggy from the sleep and chill, tried to piece together the situation. “You need to trust that I’m not trying to get back at you or something equally stupid. This isn’t the time for that.”

“But, I—”

“I know that none of this is…good.” Zenitsu let out a snort but Aoi seemed to forge on ahead. “—but Shinobu-sama believes this will save Tanjirou.”

Save him?

Zenitsu let out a frustrated sigh. “Are you sure that the demon can’t—”

“Inosuke and Kanao are doing their best on the mission. But just in case—don't give me that look! Just in case worse comes to worse, you have to do your part. You want to help Tanjirou, don’t you?”

“...God, you’re sounding more and more like Shinobu-sama everyday.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” The tension seemed to diffuse from the room and Tanjirou opened his eyes figuring it to be the right time to enter the conversation.

The two stood near the doorway to the medical center. Early morning light filtered through the windows, casting delicate shadows. Tanjirou was sorry to be bundled up in his blankets as his favorite thing to see was the light weave through Zenitsu’s blonde hair. They looked especially luminescent in the morning hours. But the chill gripped him and he stayed in bed under many layers of blankets.

“Aoi, I don’t know if I can do this.” Zenitsu sounded so defeated. Tanjirou wanted to scoop him up and bundle him in his own blankets. Perhaps cuddle with him near a fire.

“You can and you will.” Aoi sounded confident at least.

“Do what?” Tanjirou asked, breaking into the conversation. It was best to let them know he had been eavesdropping after all. He hadn’t meant to let it continue this long but the grogginess of waking up and the coldness crawling through his veins made him slow to react.

Zenitsu let out a shriek that earned a yelp of surprise from Aoi. The girl smacked Zenitsu on the arm (she could only reach up there when they both were standing upright) in retaliation.

“T-tanjirou! How much did you hear?”

“Tanjirou, how are you feeling?” Aoi said, cutting off Zenitsu as she went to Tanjirou’s side. She laid a hand on his forehead, withdrawing it almost immediately. “Wow, you’re—”

“Cold.” Tanjirou said, punctuating it with a weak laugh. “I think this is the demon blood art—”

“I was there yesterday, too, you know.” Aoi said, making her way to the medical equipment stored in the cabinets. As she prepared for the tests, Zenitsu made his way to Tanjirou’s cot. The brunette didn’t want to leave the relative warmth of his blankets (relative, as it was hardly enough) but he put out a hand for Zenitsu, regardless.

The young blonde man only hesitated for a moment, before taking it. He winced at the icy grip of Tanjirou’s fingers but didn’t pull away. For that, Tanjirou shot him a smile.

Zenitsu looked even more upset.

“Are you okay?” He asked which seemed to upset Zenitsu even more.

“Am I okay?! I should be asking you that! Shinobu-sama said that you’re suffering from some fucked up revenge curse from the demon!”

“I mean, I think it’s just a blood art thing? But it should be taken care of once Inosuke and Kanao capture her.”

Zenitsu’s eyes fell. “You heard us.” He sounded stricken.

“J-just a little. I heard that you have to do something and those two went to take care of the demon in the meantime. I’m really sorry about that. I promise, I’ll try to be more careful next time.” Tanjirou clutched and Zenitsu’s hands more tightly and felt a gentle squeeze back in return.

“Alright...that’s fine I guess. But, Tanjirou—! Aren’t you—! Isn’t it—!” None of his statements followed through but Tanjirou waited patiently all the same.

“I’m fine, Zenitsu.” The blonde shot him a murderous glare. Tanjirou could only laugh as Zenitsu’s glare was really adorable. Like a kitten trying to look scary—the lightning user was only ever intimidating in battle. And even then, that was more cool than anything. “Okay, okay, I’m not totally fine. But Shinobu-sama will figure it out, right? If not her, then Kanao and Inosuke will deal with the demon and that should solve whatever ‘curse’ thing I’m stuck with.”

Zenitsu didn’t look convinced. Instead, his scent seemed to grow more distressed.

Tanjirou frowned. He hated seeing the other stress. (Although, Zenitsu constantly stressed about everything, so really, Tanjirou was asking for a lot here.)

“Alright, sit up.” Aoi said, interrupting whatever Zenitsu was about to say. He looked relieved and disappointed all at once. “Let’s run some tests and then get some food in you. Sound good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine with that. As long as it’s, ah, warm?”

“Way ahead of you. Zenitsu, are you staying?” Aoi shot the other boy with a significant look. Zenitsu dithered before pulling a chair beside Tanjirou’s bedside.

Strange. Aoi hated it when Zenitsu (and Inosuke) hovered over her shoulder as she did her work. But Tanjirou wasn’t going to question it, now. Not when Zenitsu’s company appeared to help him fight the chill. Or maybe the cold had all been in his mind? That certainly was a possibility.

Either way, Zenitsu’s company was...nice. And Tanjirou appreciated it.

He shot Zenitsu a beaming smile, ignoring the icy grip on his heart. Zenitsu returned it, albeit weaker than usual. Strange that Tanjirou’s heart stuttered at that.

***

Tanjirou woke up with a start. He was freezing. He had been sleeping so much. He was just so cold.

The dream lingered in his mind even after he shook the grogginess away. Usually they slipped by fast. But this time it felt as though it was impossible to shake off.

“How about I show you what betrayal I faced? The unrequited feelings I dealt with? I didn’t deserve any of this! And yet—I’m still here!” The demon’s words prior to her attack rang in Tanjirou’s head, loud and clear. The pain was evident in her cold features. But it was her following words that were the most notable to the demon slayer.

“You won’t be able to feel anything after I’m through with you! Nothing will save you from my blood art! Not even a lover’s touch!”

Had she said that? Why couldn’t he remember?

What was happening?

“Tanjirou?” Zenitsu entered the room. “Are you alright? I heard a—”

“I’m fine!”

Zenitsu smiled and cold grew even more pronounced.

“A-are you sure? You know you can tell me anything…”

“I know, I know. I didn’t mean to make you worry.” Tanjirou sighed. “I just woke up from a nightmare. I don’t—I don’t really know what to make of it.”

“What was it about?” Zenitsu said, stepping closer. Tanjirou smiled.

“Um, it’s a bit depressing? Maybe—”

“You don’t have to talk about it! I was just giving you the option!” Zenitsu came to sit beside Tanjirou’s bed. With him so close, Tanjirou could feel the warmth of his proximity. Were lightning-breath users normally this warm? Electricity burned stuff, right?

“Thanks Zenitsu! But really, I’d rather not linger on it you know?” The dream had been disconcerting. “Why don’t you tell me about your day instead?”

“Are you sure?” The worry was evident on Zenitsu’s face. Tanjirou wanted to brush away the stress lines that were already forming. He didn’t want his friend to worry so much. “I mean, if you wanna hear about Aoi bullying me then alright.”

“It’s more interesting than what I’ve been doing.” Tanjirou said with an easy smile. It was odd at how he was able to smile despite the nightmare he had just felt.

“Okay, so Aoi thinks that my hair is fake so she—”

Tanjirou felt lighter than ever listening to Zenitsu’s story. But something still tugged at his heart.

***

Tanjirou woke up.

It was starting to get tiring to wake up to a dead coldness in his bones. He hoped Inosuke and Kanao could make their expedition faster as the chill was getting more and more unbearable.

He couldn’t muster it in him to move until the scent of peaches hit his nose. How did he notice it before?

“Zenitsu?” He called out, voice quiet. It was becoming difficult to get a grasp on the time due to how much he was sleeping. He could differentiate between day and night but it was difficult to tell what time it actually was.

The room was dark and he could barely make out the silhouette of his friend. Zenitsu’s head appeared to be slumped over on the bed covers, his arms serving as pillows. Tanjirou could barely make out the blonde hair but he reached out and touched it.

It felt soft. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him—Zenitsu took care of himself pretty well. Perhaps he expected the jagged locks to feel harsh due to the way it was cut but that clearly wasn’t the case. Something tight in him unfurled as Zenitsu let out a puff of air, snuggling into the bed covers.

Tanjirou moved, ready to pull Zenitsu into his bed—surely it wasn’t comfortable sleeping like this—and winced. God, it hurt. It hurt so much.

The inner corners of his eyes pricked with involuntary tears of pain. He gritted his teeth as an icy sharpness kept hammering at his chest.

He didn’t realize how shallow his breathing was until he felt an arm on his back stroking him. “Breath, Tanjirou. Come on, you know how to do it. Breath with me.”

“I—” But Tanjirou couldn’t choke out any more words.

The arm on him drew back and Tanjirou felt even colder.

“Tanjirou, c-can I—” Zenitsu began, waiting for permission that Tanjirou didn’t understand. Somehow he just felt hurt.

Tanjirou clutched at his chest when he felt the bed shift. He felt arms encircle him and Zenitsu pulled Tanjirou’s head to rest against his chest. He could smell the scent of embarrassment wafting off of him but Zenitsu held him tight.

Being in his arms was like being inside a kotetsu. Or taking a warm bath. Or coming back home. It felt like all of those things and more.

The room was quiet. Until Zenitsu coughed. “U-um, does this help?”

Tanjirou blinked. The sharpness in his chest receded. “Yes? I mean, it does. Huh.” He pulled back and immediately winced, the pain coming back immediately.

“Wait, hold on!” Zenitsu moved to settle in the bed next to Tanjirou and pulled him back in his arms once he was positioned comfortably. “Shinobu-sama said that, uh, cuddling helps?”

“Really?”

“T-the legends, say that you know….”

“What do they say?” He wished he had heard of the legends prior to meeting the demon. Maybe he should’ve done more reconnaissance in the area before he decided to fight her.

“Well, um, that being close to people helps?” Zenitsu’s voice sounded unsure. If that didn’t give it away, his scent held a tinge of deception beneath it. Tanjirou wrinkled his nose. It wasn’t an intolerable smell, but it felt….wrong coming from Zenitsu. “Do you feel better?”

“...yeah, actually. Did Shinobu-sama tell you anything else about the legend? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“You were sleeping! It would’ve been bad to disturb you!”

That sounded too much like an excuse and it was apparent that both of them were aware of this as Zenitsu brushed it aside and moved ahead.

“Anyway! You should go back to sleep. Shinobu-sama said that conserving your energy was the most important thing to do while we wait on Inosuke and Kanao. And don’t argue with me!”

“I wasn’t going to.” Tanjirou said with a slight chuckle. It was muffled as he circled his arms around Zenitsu’s waist. God, he was so warm. “I promise, I’m doing my best to rest. It’s just—well, everything just feels so cold, you know?”

“...I’m sorry you’re dealing with this on your own. I should’ve been there to—!”

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s this about? I was sent on a mission and I got caught up in it. It’s not like you could’ve predicted my failure.” Even as he said this, he felt a sharp stabbing sensation in his chest.

“Tanjirou? Are you—?”

“Hold on.” Tanjirou muttered. He slowed his breathing until the pain receded. His breath helped him focus on Zenitsu’s peach blossom scent which centered and anchored him.

They continued to clutch each other—Tanjirou, like a man hanging onto a life raft, and Zenitsu, terrified and shaken.

“Y-your heart. It sounds….muffled. I mean, your sound is always so—it’s always there but this time it’s not and-and it’s just so—”

Zenitsu was truly scared for him. This shouldn’t have warmed Tanjirou so much but it did all the same.

“I’m sorry—”

“Why are you apologizing! Stupid Tanjirou!”

“But, I am! I didn’t mean to worry you!”

“You’re not worrying me, idiot!”

“But, I can smell it on you?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop smelling me?? Why do you keep doing things like this!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Tanjirou said, punctuating his apology with a laugh.

“Hmph.” Zenitsu pouted but he pulled Tanjirou closer all the same. “I’m not going to forgive you until you learn to take better care of yourself.”

“Alright, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“You’d better be! You can’t leave Nezuko-chan behind with your carelessness! Who’s supposed to take care of her if you die? Me and Inosuke?? We don’t know how to take care of girls! Inosuke would probably teach her all the wrong things! And Shinobu-sama is too busy! Kanao and Aoi maybe but...” Zenitsu began muttering under his breath how well of job Kanao and Aoi would do, coming to the conclusion that no would take care of Nezuko as well as Tanjirou did.

Tanjirou blinked. When had Zenitsu changed his song from ‘marrying Nezuko and taking care of her’ to just ‘taking care of her?’

“You don’t want to marry her, anymore?” He blurted out, unable to keep the surprise from his tone.

Zenitsu stopped and stared at Tanjirou, eyes wide. “You—what? You think I still….like Nezuko-chan?”

“Yes?” The two continued to stare at each other before Zenitsu snorted and flopped back onto the bed, taking Tanjirou with him.

“I shouldn’t be surprised but I am.” Zenitsu sighed. “I don’t like Nezuko like that anymore. I mean, she’s great and all but…”

“But what?”

“...nevermind. Anyway, Tanjirou! It’s time for you to sleep!”

“I wanna hear the rest of what you were about to say!”

“Who says I have more to say??”

“Don’t you?”

“Just go to sleep Tanjirou!” Tanjirou stared. Zenitsu was underneath him and Tanjirou’s chin was on the other boy’s chest. “W-what?”

“Are you gonna stay?” The stinging sensation in his chest sharpened but not so much it was unbearable.

“I-I, yeah. If that’s okay with you?” Zenitsu appeared strangely shy all of sudden. But Tanjirou wasn’t about to make him feel self-conscious all of a sudden.

“Absolutely. Do you wanna talk or—”

“Sleep, Tanjirou!” Zenitsu huffed, a bit of fire returning to him. Tanjirou wished there was more light so he could see the golden sparks in his eyes. “You need to rest!”

“Okay, okay.” Tanjirou conceded, moving to get comfortable. Zenitsu didn’t let go of him once. It should’ve occurred to how odd it was to cuddle with a friend like this but it felt so natural, so right that he didn’t bother to stop and think. Why would he when it all felt like a dream?

They were both on their sides, Tanjirou with his arms around Zenitsu’s waist and the other boy’s arms around his shoulder’s cradling Tanjirou to his chest. It felt warm. It felt right.

“Night, Zenitsu.”

“...Night, Tanjirou.”

***

Tanjirou woke up. It was freezing. He bolted up as a piercing sting shot through his chest.

God, he was so tired of this. How many times over was this going to happen to him? When would Inosuke and Kanao finish the demon off? Was he becoming more callous with time?

“Tanjirou?” Zenitsu mumbled. He rubbed his eyes and squinted, trying to make out Tanjirou’s expression through the cutting darkness.

Tanjirou couldn’t speak. He could barely even breath. Even his breathing techniques weren’t helping him here. Real panic was crawling up his skin and pinpricks of cold sweat dotted his pores.

“Tanjirou?” Zenitsu said, louder now. He got up and took Tanjirou’s icy hands into his. “What’s wrong? Your hands are freezing!”

“I-I—”

“Can you—what’s—” Zenitsu’s anxiety was contagious. Normally, it wasn’t—Tanjirou could easily balance out Zenitsu’s neuroticism—but this time he felt every single emotion the blonde was facing.

“Zen—” He could barely make out another word before Zenitsu took his face and kissed him.

Immediately, the bitter cold subsided.

Tanjirou let out a gasping breath, trying to suck in as much air as possible. He pulled back and stared at Zenitsu incredulously. “Zenitsu, wh—”

“It’s because of the legends!” Zenitsu’s face was now beet red. “The legends are, you know…..”

Tanjirou continued to stare, gobsmacked.

Zenitsu looked up through his lashes. The beginning of light was making its way into the infirmary. It wasn’t coming fast enough as Tanjirou wanted to drink Zenitsu's every expression. His heart was pounding fast, the rhythm seemingly melting whatever demonic curse was cast on him.

The glacial presence in his chest no longer seemed to be chipping away at him. Tanjirou didn’t even pay attention to whatever numbness was left.

“What—” Tanjirou licked his lips, chasing the taste of Zenitsu before continuing. “What legends?”

“Shinobu-sama said that-that the demon, she—” Zenitsu appeared unable to parse through his thoughts but Tanjirou wasn’t about to interrupt him. He wanted to know what that kiss had meant. “T-the legends say that she terrorized people because she lost someone she loved. And because she’s a huge romantic, or whatever, the only thing that could break her curse is a loved one’s kiss, or whatever. Personally, I think a condition is dumb—”

“You love me?”

“I—Tanjirou!”

“Y-you said, true love’s kiss could break the curse and—”

“I said a loved one’s kiss! That’s not the same!”

“But do you—do you love me?” Tanjirou could barely get the words out. He was terrified.

“I—I guess….”

“You guess? You’re not sure?”

“Okay fine! I like you!” Zenitsu glared at him but it was somewhat ineffective due to the sheer embarrassment radiating off of him. “I….sorta even, maybe, love you.”

Tanjirou stared, hardly believing his luck.

This didn’t seem real. He didn’t feel deserving of this. Zenitsu, shouldn’t have—He didn’t realize he’d ever be given something so precious like this. But, all the same...

“Wh—Tanjirou! Why are you crying?” Zenitsu flailed, worry obviously etched onto his face.

“I’m not sad, don’t worry.” Tanjirou said, rubbing away the sudden tears. It had been unexpected and caught him off-guard. But he felt relieved all the same.

The ice frozen around his heart was fully gone. It didn’t register to Tanjirou, at least not consciously. He just felt...fulfilled.

“I thought—” Zenitsu started but Tanjirou cut him off with a quick kiss.

He pulled back, almost immediately. “Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t help it! Was that okay? I should’ve asked.”

Now it was Zenitsu’s turn to look shocked. “I—I just confessed to you! And now you’re asking me if it’s okay to kiss me?”

“Well, it’s important to ask for permission. Right?” Tanjirous asked with a teasing smile. Zenitsu just pursed his lips.

“Okay but are you accepting it or—?”

“I like you too, Zenitsu. I like you a lot, actually. It’s probably love but I’m not too sure.”

“Not too sure??” Zenitsu looked a mix of annoyed and pleased. “What do you mean you’re not too sure??”

“I mean, it just occurred to me that what I felt for you was, well, romantic. I guess, I didn’t connect the dots until you mentioned it.”

Zenitsu just stared. “So, you just figured it out…?”

“Uh, I think so?” Tanjirou let out a self-conscious laugh. “I mean, I thought you liked Nezuko this whole time! So, I guess I just didn’t let myself...feel for you in that way. But it’s okay! It happened anyway!”

“...You are unbelievable.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Zenitsu simply answered him with a kiss.

#zentan #zenitsu agatsuma #kamado tanjirō #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #not too sure what else to tag this tbh #love confessions #god this was hard to write but I'm glad I got it done

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capevans3000 · 4 years

Text

Love triangle - Part 3

Summary: You and Chris had always have feelings for each other, but were too afraid to let each other know. That was until Sebastian came along and a love triangle was quickly formed.

Featuring: Chris x Reader x Sebastian Stan

Warning: Just fluff stuff

Note: Hi everyone, here’s part 3 of the installment of Love Triangle! Hope you guys like this one! As usual, comments and feedback are super appreciated! Stay safe! <3

Gif not mine!

Part 1

Part 2

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The next morning you woke up to the smell of freshly cooked pancakes and maple syrup. Your stomach growled as you walked into the kitchen, passing Dodger on the way and giving him a morning pat. You bent down and started hugging Dodger and constantly calling him a good boy. Dodger’s tail wagged happily as he enjoyed your company.

“Someone In the house is really lucky to have all the attention.” You looked up and saw Sebastian in the hallway looking at you playing with Dodger. You laughed. “Someone in the house is really lucky to have such a handsome boy to give attention to.”

“Wait. Do you mean Dodger? Or me or Chris?” Sebastian joked.

“Please. No one is as cute and handsome as this boy over here. Come here my handsome boy!” You called Dodger as his tail wagged faster and more excitedly.

“Ouch.” Sebastian feigned hurt and turned his back towards the kitchen. It was strange. Sebastian had only spent one evening with you, but somehow he felt so drawn and attracted to you. You were so different from other girls he had met. You were funny, extremely witty, and so uninhibited. You didn’t care if you didn’t have perfect make up on during the day, or that your hair was up in a messy bun when you were washing the dishes the night before. You looked beautiful in all that naturalness. You were so refreshing and genuine, and your personality was amazing. Sebastian had found himself almost instantly drawn to you, no matter how crazy and impossible that was.

“So, are you and Chris like, together?” Sebastian asked when the both of you were in the kitchen. He was adding the batter for another pancake he was making.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard that question. It was complicated and you didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Chris, but there were just some circumstances that were in the way. It was too early in the morning for you to discuss this with Sebastian so you replied him plainly. “We’re not together.” It was the truth, yet, with many underlying factors to that truth.

“I see.” Sebastian replied as he tossed the done pancake onto the plate. It was a quick answer, but you could almost hear a happy tone behind it. Before you could process further, you heard Chris’ footsteps approaching the kitchen. You smiled naturally as you prepared to greet him.

“Good morning Y/N.” He smiled brightly at you. You greeted him back with a smile on your face.

“And good morning to you, Seb. I see you’re making pancakes! I’m hungry.” Chris reached towards the plate to pinch the pancake with his fingers and popping it into his mouth like a little child.

“Use a fork, for God’s sake. No one wants your fingers on their pancakes!” Sebastian chided.

“Fine, you’re such a dad sometimes.” Chris laughed.

You offered to bring Dodger out for a walk around the park after breakfast. Because of the pandemic, it was socially responsible to wear a face mask when out, so that was an added anti-surveillance measure for you. It was harder to recognize people with their face mask on. You just hoped no one would recognize Dodger, who had become quite a celebrity himself.

When you came back thirty minutes later, you saw Chris working on his laptop in the living room while Sebastian was reading in the dining hall. You brought Dodger into the toilet to wash his paws, set out his morning snack for him and went to wash up yourself. You passed by Chris in the living room and waved at him. He looked up from his laptop and smiled at you. “Thank you for bringing Dodger for his walk. He’s been choosing you over me ever since you moved in and I can’t say I’m not hurt.” Chris laughed. “How was Dodger, was he a good boy?”

“The best.” You smiled. “I’m going to grab some tea, do you want some?”

“No I’m actually good. I just got some work to catch up on right now. Let’s hang out with Sebastian later when I am done?” Chris asked. You nodded and stood up.

As you made your way towards the kitchen, you passed by Sebastian and saw the book he was reading. He was reading the book that you had been reading for the past few days.

You greeted him and asked him if he would like tea. Sebastian looked up from the book and nodded appreciatively. With two mugs of hot tea in hand, you sat down in front of Sebastian and pushed a mug towards him.

“I see you’re reading my book.”

“Oh sorry! I saw it on the coffee table and took it to read. Don’t worry, your bookmark is still safe where you left it. You can have it back.” Sebastian replied, closing the book and pushing it across the table to you.

“No worries. You can read it first. I have other books to busy myself with at the moment.” You smiled and took a small sip of the tea and pushed the book back to Sebastian. Unknowingly, you had spent about an hour chatting with Sebastian over tea about the books you’ve both read. The more Sebastian talked to you, the more his feelings for you became apparent to him. He knew he was beginning, if not already had, fallen heavily for you. There was just absolutely no possible logic needed to have feelings for you in such a short time. All those cheesy things he’d seen in movies about love at first sight was real, because, as illogical as it was, you’d become his love at first at sight.

The next thing you knew, Chris walked in to the dining room and greeted you and Sebastian with his hands on his tummy, gesturing that he was hungry. You were so engrossed in chatting with Sebastian that you hardly realized it was lunch time. Again, Sebastian had offered to make lunch for everyone.

“Are you having a good time hanging out with Sebastian?” Chris asked as he took the seat that Sebastian had just vacated.

“Yeah, in fact, yes. We talked about the books we both like.” You smiled.

“I’m glad you get along well with Sebastian. He’s one of my best friends and I’m glad you two hit it off.” Chris smiled genuinely. He wanted to tell you how much he appreciated that you and his best friend hit it off, because both you and Sebastian were two of the most important people in his life and it meant so much to him.

After lunch, Chris, Sebastian and you went ahead and did your own things in the house. Chris retreated to his study room to work on his laptop, while you and Sebastian each took a couch to read. Sebastian had decided to stay for another evening. “I’m quite lazy to drive. Mind if I stayed another night?” He’d asked during lunch. Only Sebastian knew it was a lie. He was looking for excuses to stay so he could spend more time with you.

That evening, Chris suggested to have dinner out in the deck instead. It was nice out and the weather was cool. Despite having planned to play a card game after dinner, Chris had to attend to a phone call so he left Sebastian and you out in the deck while he went back to the house to take the call. While waiting for Chris, you walked towards the ledge of the deck and took a deep breath of the cold air. You grew up in a very warm place, so you loved cool weather like this. You loved it, but your body was hardly able to withstand the frigid wind. The wind suddenly got stronger and you felt it beginning to bite your skin. From the corner of your eye, you saw Chris through the glass door gesturing to you and Sebastian that he needed a couple more minutes on the phone. He waved apologetically and disappeared into his study.

You turned back to admire the night sky, the stars now more evident than ever. It was a quiet night, only the humdrum sounds of crickets and the wind could be heard. You were about to turn back into the house to grab your sweater when you felt something warm on your shoulders. You turned your head and realised that Sebastian had taken off his jacket and placed them on you.

“Put this on, or you’ll catch a cold.” He said gently. You smiled and took his jacket gratefully. He helped you put on the jacket and made sure you were covered. The wind was coming towards you and you felt a chill. “How about you, then?” you asked Sebastian between shivers.

“My shirt is pretty thick, don’t worry.” Sebastian smiled.

You nodded your head and giggled to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” Sebastian asked quizzically.

“Nothing. I am just thinking, this is like a classic scene from a movie.”

Sebastian raised his eyebrows in question and you continued, “The guy offering the girl his jacket, and maybe the guy is indeed cold but he doesn’t want to admit it. Classic scene, no?” You chuckled.

Sebastian laughed with you. At that moment, Sebastian felt his heart tugged even further towards you. “Oh yeah? And what usually happens after the guy offers his jacket to the girl?”

“It depends. Is it a Rom-Com? An action movie? A thriller? It could spin into many different versions depending on the movie.” You pondered seriously, thinking back to all the movies you’d watched.

“I think, the stars are really beautiful tonight, and this seems such a perfect moment for a dance in the movie.” Sebastian said and he put out his hands in front of him into a dance position. He nodded at you and gestured you to take his arms.

You were surprised at his gesture, but you felt comfortable enough with Sebastian. You let out a laugh and spontaneously reached out and took his arms. You were not much of a dancer but Sebastian was a good leader. He led you in a slow dance, his arms strong and safe to be in. He was such a good leader that even with your two left feet, you didn’t step on him or yourself once. Your eyes met, and his gaze was earnest. Never mind the fact that more than 48 hours ago, Sebastian didn’t even know you, yet now all he wanted was to freeze this particular moment in time and burn it in his memory. Mid-dance, Sebastian pulled you in an embrace so that your face was buried near his chest. Again, surprisingly, you felt comfortable and not at all awkward with Sebastian, despite dancing to nothing but only the sound of nature.

Sebastian closed his eyes as he embraced you. He wanted to savour every moment of this impromptu dance with you. His heart was pounding so hard with excitement and deep attraction for you, he wondered if you could feel it. It felt as if the stars above were aligned and everything in that moment was perfect.

He wished and wanted more than ever that he could kiss you on your lips, like the characters in the classic movies would. He wanted to kiss you so bad that it hurt. It was crazy, Sebastian thought to himself. He had never felt so attracted to someone in such a short span of time before that it scared him. He had never met someone as special and genuine as you before that he felt scared to lose you before he could even have you. In the most innocent way, Sebastian had found himself irrevocably fallen for you.

Let me know if you want to be tagged! :D

Go to Part 4

#chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader #chris evans jealous #love triangle #chris evans fluff #sebastian stan fluff

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constancezin · 4 years

Text

To illustrate the fantastic work of @petals-to-fish

"Just tell me what it is you want from me."

His arms were crossed and he was leaning against the stone wall of the castle, staring at his shoes. His legs stretched towards her, where she was standing back. Lily, frustrated with James, blew her hair from her eyes and crossed her own arms.

You sat there and just let me win."

"Sorry for being a good boyfriend." he snapped back, wand moving in his hand as he shook from his own irritation.

Lily felt the sarcasm all the way down to her feet. She didn't know how to explain to him how humiliated she was. Everyone knew James Potter was the best dueler in the school. Everyone knew Lily should've landed on her ass.

"A good boyfriend," she scoffed bitterly.

James' hazel eyes shot up from his shoes when he heard her sour tone, "what do you want me to say?"

And that's when Lily's cold tone turned frigid and icy, shooting down the hallway with an echo, "I shouldn't have to tell you what to say!"

"Then I don't know why we're still standing here!" she watched as he leaned up and off the wall with a glare down at her.

"I don't either!" she said, eyes flaring, "since you're so thick and can't see what you did wrong!"

"I didn't do anything wrong!" he threw his hands up in the air, "Fucking hell!"

"You let me win!" Lily stepped towards him, shaking her own wand at his chest, "I should've been put on my arse after two seconds of dueling against you!"

A shadow crossed James' features and he spat at her mirthlessly, "I'm done arguing with you about this."

The icy feeling melted swiftly under his dark stare, "fine," she said coolly.

"Fine." he answered back, hazel eyes almost black.

They both walked back to the common room in complete silence. When they entered Gryffindor's tower, they went separate ways instead of falling into the same chair for a quick song like they normally did. Lily wiped her tears away furiously, cursing James Potter and his stupid-handsome-face her whole way up to her dormitory.

Mary saw the look on fury on Lily's face and winced when Lily entered the girls' dorm, "chat with James didn't go well, I take it?"

"He's a stupid, chivalrous git." Lily tore her trainers off and flung them at her trunk angrily, "he had the nerve to-he didn't even apologize! I mean-the absolute nerve of him."Mary, who wasn't really following, just nodded along as Lily vented out her feelings. After Lily had voiced her opinions outlaid, she settled to her inner monologue. All night she replayed the scene from Dueling Club over and over. She remembered every move he made as he begged her for a smile.

"Come on Evans," he'd danced just out of reach as he taunted his girlfriend, "knock me on my arse."

Lily knew something wasn't right when her first spell hit it's mark. She's a shotty aimer-her biggest problem. She should've missed James, who moved like a fucking mountain cat when he was dueling. Instead, she hit him straight on. James should've easily overpowered her, he was quicker with nonverbal.

But James was the one who lost the duel...and Lily was the one everyone was looking at with newfound respect. Before, no one had ever knocked James Potter on his feet so quickly, Lily had done it in record time. She knew James went easy on her and she hated him for it, but when she confronted him...

Words got thrown out the window so quickly, Lily nor James could jump after them. James said some things that got Lily's blood boiling and Lily said some things that earned her James' brooding stare. By the end, they'd both been pissed off enough not to speak at all.

She knew he'd meant well.

She knew that.

She supposed his reaction to her cornering him had been what set him off. James had seemingly wanted to have no one notice he took it easy on her. It was like he wanted to prove Lily was as good a dueler as he was...which was just...absurd. No one but Serverus Snape and Remus Lupin could match James Potter in dueling.

Still, she couldn't face him the next morning. It was a little out of pride, a little out of stubbornness and a little embarrassment. James didn't bother talking to her either. He ate breakfast at the end of the Gryffindor table, alone, not even glancing her way when she glanced his.

As the day went on she wondered if they were through.

Dating only for two months and suddenly they were back to playing cold shoulder. Lily never wanted that, she quite fancied him when he wasn't being a chivalrous git. She also quite liked his mouth. His jaw wasn't hard to look at either, all lines and solid muscle that clenched when he was thinking really hard.

He was currently thinking hard, sitting next to Lily in Advanced Potions. They were partners and they hadn't spoken a single word to each other. It was maddening when he looked over and found him staring at his fingernails. She almost said something but someone interrupted her plans, a tall boy with pale eyes.

"Hear you knocked Potter on his arse in dueling," Mason Mulciber said, flicking a bit of dirt off his robes, "where'd you learn to duel?"

Lily, startled by Mulciber's attempt at conversation, looked over at James. He wasn't looking up but his hands were in fists and she saw his jaw was clenched hard. Lily looked back at Mulciber and raised her chin proudly.

"Dueling club allows everyone to practice-"

"Practice." Mason Mulciber sneered, "Snape can't even win against Potter in dueling."

Lily felt all eyes on them and she took a deep breath, "I just got lucky."

Mulciber snorted, "I'd say, people like you aren't naturals at magic."

James stood up, his chair scraping across the ground and startling everyone within a three foot radius. Mulciber turned his lazy eyes on James, devoid of emotion. Meanwhile, James was spewing anger.

"She might not be the best dueler," James defended Lily, "but she can beat anyones arse in charm theory and has the best potioneering technique this school has ever seen."

And then, it all came crashing back, her adoration for James. Mulciber just sniffed, as if James' outburst were necessary. Lily waited until Mulciber went back to his cauldron before she turned to look James eye-to-eye. James looked nervous and couldn't hold her gaze, like he was guilty.

"Sorry." he muttered.

"For what?" she asked, green eyes calculating.

"I know you can handle yourself and all," his head jerked in Mulciber's direction, "but Mulciber always looks at you like you're his next meal and it-it really bothers me that people underestimate you Lily. That's why I let you win in dueling. I wanted people to take you seriously."

Lily shook her head and reached out, clasping his hand. James looked up at her hopefully, as if he'd been worried they were through forever too. Holding his hand, it reminded Lily why she'd ever grabbed it in the first place. It was because she trusted him and knew he'd never let her fall...even when she wanted too.

"I was embarrassed." Lily said honestly, "I knew you let me win out of some stupid chivalrous reason and I hated that. I wanted to win fairly."

"I was being a chivalrous git," he admitted, lifting her hand to his mouth for a kiss, "but it was only because I was tired of all those stupid people in dueling club like Mulciber saying you were nothing but an average dueler."

He spat the word average and Lily smiled sadly, "I am an average dueler."

"Nothing about you is average, not in the slightest."

Lily felt her heart start and stop again from his impactful words. Lily bit her lip and glanced to make sure their Professor was busy before she leaned on on her tiptoes to press her lips against his. James relaxed against her mouth and even wrapped one arm around her waist before she pulled away.

"I love you," Lily put her heart in James' hands in front of everyone, "even when I'm yelling at you for being a chivalrous git."

James flushed with pride, "remember that, the next time I'm being a chivalrous git."

Lily reached up to ruffle his hair playfully, "thank you for being a good boyfriend."

#james potter #jily #lily evans #jily fic #petals to fish #illustrators on tumblr #illustration #my art

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radiosandrecordings · 5 years

Note

:DDDD im thinking either jm or daisira "if this is my last chance to say it...."

No proof reading we publish 1000 words of train of thought writing at 1am and we take our inconsistencies like a MAN

The safehouse was cold, actually.

‘Bloody freezin,’ if you’d asked Jon’s grandmother. But no one had, because she’d been dead five years now, and if the End was dredging up spirits any time soon, Jon doubted she’d make top of the list, even for him.

To combat the frigidness of the air, he was currently wrapped under a duvet and two comforters, and additionally, Martin’s arm. It was heavy, weighing him down with a pleasant comfort, languidly thrown over him from where the man next to him lay, asleep on his front, which Jon found inconceivable for comfort reasons. Though Martin seemed to find it relaxing enough, neck turned so his face pressed gently into the pillow, tilted in Jon’s direction. He could count every freckle from this angle. He got up to five in his sleep dazed stupor before he caught himself.

It was probably after twenty minutes of lying there, eyes half-lidded in the peace of the early morning, that Jon felt the arm recede from around his middle. He caught the hand attached before it could snake away.

‘Hm? Jon?’ It was mumbled behind a curtain of haziness, eyes still blinking away bleariness to meet his own.

‘Is that okay?’ Jon asked, blunt as always.

‘Hn? What? Uh- Yeah. Yeah of course. Did I- Sorry did I grab you in the night or somethi-’

‘Yes,’ Jon cut him off, ‘But I don’t... Mind. It was- Well it was that I wanted to talk about. Kind of. Sort of.’

Martin’s hand had gone limp in his, no longer trying to pull away, but not wrapping his fingers tight around Jon’s, interlocking in that perfect way, like it had when they’d trailed out of the Lonely.

‘Oh?’ Was all Martin replied, blush beginning to settle itself behind the freckles, like the kids at hide and seek with the absolute worst spots.

‘How- How much longer? Do you think we have left here, that is.’ And the words were out of his mouth before he could process how atrociously they brought down the mood. Not the tone he was going for, but it’d do.

‘Oh- Uhm. I dunno. Couple of weeks? Two, maybe? I don’t know how long it’d take to track us down. Or if anything even cares to right now. I wasn’t exactly important to anyone but Peter, and Jonah doesn’t really seem like the ‘March into the highlands guns a blazin’ type.’

‘Yes, but.. Surely there’ll be something. This... It can’t last, can it?’ Martin had rolled over onto his side to meet Jon’s gaze, and Jon pulled up their hands so they were pressed between them. He could feel the subtle movements run through them, the vibrations of their chests, rising, falling, rising, falling, in, out, in-

‘I’m sorry,’ and Jon clutched the hand tighter because he’d be damned if he heard an echo at the trailing end of that, ‘I’m sorry that you’re stuck here. With me. In some... Shitty, damp, no-bloody-insulation single-glazing-window draught-under-every-door safehouse in the highlands. I didn’t even ask if you wanted to be here. I just followed what Basira said now we’re gona be hunted down in the middle of nowhere because I-’

Several seconds before Martin had cut himself off, Jon had began to mutter ‘No.’ He continued to rattle the word off, gradually rising in volume until Martin eventually tapered off. ‘No. Hush. Untrue, the lot of it. I’m here because I want to be. I’ve been kidnapped a lot, I know what it feels like, and this? Not one of those times.’

Martin, almost imperceptibly, mumbled ‘Don’t joke about that...’, which Jon promptly ignored.

‘I’m here because for however much time we have left- this frankly horrid old cottage is home. The doors may have bloodstains, and there’s never enough hot water, but that’s not home. Home is... We bought those god-ugly mugs down at that little handmade craft store in town. And I’ve gota say, those? Contain the best tea I’ve ever had. And home is... The stacks of books in the living room, piling up in the corner because of course Daisy never needed a bookshelf, but we do. Because we’re- We’re nerds Martin, who spent last night wine drunk and having the ‘Is Keats Really That Bad’ debate, round three. And home is that conversation. And home is waking up with Martin Blackwood’s arm around me, because he rolled over in his sleep and his instinct was to hold me.And I think... I think, if it’s my last chance to say it, before the Hunters come barging in, or Jonah, or Annabelle, or whoever decided I can’t have a bit of peace for five fucking minutes- I think you, Martin Blackwood, need to know that I wouldn’t have it any other way. That given a thousand different things to be doing, right now, the best possible option is to be lying here with you. Because, all that being said, I think I love you quite a lot.’

He ran his thumb down the side of their entwined hands, the companion of which had given up on being limp and was now carefully gripping his in return.

Quieter, he repeated it, head nodding gently as he fully parsed the words. ‘I think I love you quite a lot. Is- Is that okay?’

His chin hooked over a shoulder as a beloved surged forward, free arm coiling around his back, the other remaining tangled with his own.

He couldn’t see his face, but his voice was somewhat tearful. ‘Yeah. That’s- That’s very, very okay. I think- I think maybe... I think maybe we might both be okay.’

#My Post #The Magnus Archives #Jonmartin #Jonathan Sims #Martin Blackwood #My Writing #maebmad

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seungcheolsbodyharness · 4 years

Text

heartshaped: vi

wc: 10k

“love recognizes no barriers. it jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” - Maya Angelou

you unlock your door and turn on the lights. it’s been a long night.

to say the date had gone badly wouldn’t necessarily be true. it had gone...just okay. the guy had been nice, he’d paid for dinner, and been fairly interesting to talk to. but something just wasn’t quite clicking for you.

it’s been a few weeks since you and jihoon had broken up, and you’ve been on a few dates (a few, no more than five) but none of them had ended up being very promising. but you had picked them all yourself, and you had to remind yourself that it was a step in the right direction.

the main takeaway has been that none of these dates have made you feel good in any special way (if at all). you can’t remember the last time you felt good and happy and like something exciting was getting started as you sat across from someone new. you’d been hopeful, but there had yet to be anything close to sparks.

you move through your apartment, shedding coat and purse and sitting at your vanity to remove your makeup before getting in the shower. as the water runs over your body, you try to think about where you’re going wrong in your choices.

you turn the water off and wrap yourself in your towel, stepping back into your bedroom and picking up your phone. surprisingly, you have a number of texts from soyoung, as well as a new voicemail and a missed call. you hadn’t even been in the shower that long.

not bothering to read the texts or listen to the voicemail, you call her back, sitting down on the bed. it rings once, twice, and then soyoung picks up.

“excuse me, since when did you start dating again?”

oh, so that’s what this was about.

“um, not very long? i haven’t been on very many.”

“there have been more?” soyoung practically screeches in your ear. wincing, you put her on speaker and move over to the dresser to grab something to wear to bed.

“a couple. why?” you pull an oversized shirt over your head, digging in your top drawer for a pair of underwear.

“well for starters, you didn’t even tell me you wanted to date again.” soyoung huffs. “secondly, i thought you’d, i dunno, tell your best friend you had a date lined up at all. you must not have been that excited to go out with them.”

“hey,” you pout, “i just wasn’t thinking, okay? i’m sorry i made you feel excluded.” you think for a minute, chew your lip. “and it’s not like i tell you everything, anyway.”

soyoung scoffs, even laughs a bit. “since when? i’ve known everything about you since we were five years old. when, pray tell, did that stop?”

for a minute, you’re tempted to come clean. to tell soyoung everything about what happened with jihoon. you want to tell her about the way being with him made you feel so she’ll understand why you set him free. you want to, but…

“just...i’m sorry, okay? i’ll tell you next time i meet someone.”

soyoung sighs. “don’t you think it’s a little soon?”

“i mean, we ended things amicably, so i don’t see why we’d need a grieving period or anything. it’s been like a month.” dressed now, you pick your phone up and get under the covers. “and besides, i’m sure jihoon has been on dates too. are you mad at him?”

soyoung goes quiet for a moment, then sighs. “no, because jihoon isn’t my best friend, you are. also, jihoon hasn’t done anything but go to work and then go home for weeks. woomin hasn’t even seen him. i thought you said you guys were okay?”

your brows draw together. as far as you were aware, you and jihoon were just fine. you’d both agreed to end things. “maybe something else is going on, at work or something. i don’t know, but him and i are fine. i’ll text him when we’re done if it’ll make you feel better.”

“whatever.” soyoung says. “maybe just...hold off on the dates for right now, okay? take some time for yourself. i know you didn’t date for very long, but…” she trails off.

“no, maybe you’re right. none of the dates i’ve gone on have been very good anyway. can we meet up later this week? i’ll buy us lunch or something and tell you all about it.”

soyoung hums. “sounds good. talk to you later, okay?”

“okay~”

with soyoung - seemingly - appeased, you hang up the phone and open up your messenger app to do as you promised and text jihoon. his response doesn’t come quickly like it used to, but you don’t think much of it. he reads your answer, but sends nothing. but it’s already late, and he’s probably working, so you set your phone down on your nightstand and turn off the light.

“cleanup on aisle four. i repeat, cleanup on aisle four.”

you stand safely in aisle seven, well enough away from whatever was happening a few rows over, scanning the neverending choices of cereal. you eventually decide on a simple classic, throwing it into your cart and heading down towards the produce section. you spy a familiar face and a smile breaks onto yours, hurriedly shuffling over towards him with your cart, calling his name.

“seungcheol!” you call, smiling wide. “how are you!”

seungcheol turns to look at you and the look on his face can only be described as frigid. taken aback, your smile falters, but you continue up to him nonetheless.

“is um, is everything okay, seungcheol?”

he rolls his eyes, turning away from you to stare intently at bottles of organic juice. “oh, i’m sure you’re just fine.” he picks a bottle up, turns it over in his hand. “i heard you’ve been on a few dates.” his eyes come up to lock with yours. “that happened awfully quickly, didn’t it?”

you nearly stumble, you're so shocked - by his tone, by his implications, by everything about this whole situation. “well, jihoon and i aren’t dating anymore, so i think a few dates are okay.”

seungcheol shrugs and puts the juice back onto the shelf. “you just seemed to meet people pretty quickly, that’s all. almost like you had them ready, or something.” he huffs. “not to mention that you seem absolutely fine, like nothing even happened.”

your brows draw together, frustration simmering under your skin. “i’m fine because jihoon and i agreed to be friends. i don’t appreciate you implying i was cheating on him. i know better than anyone that jihoon doesn’t deserve that.”

seungcheol’s face pulls into a grimace, nearly obviously disgusted. “he doesn’t deserve this either.” before you can say anything he’s gone, angrily pushing his cart down the rest of the aisle and around the corner.

your frustration nearly boils over - who did seungcheol think he was, accusing you of cheating on jihoon? like he knew what he was talking about at all?

when you get home, groceries thrown onto the stove to await being put away, you call jihoon.

when he picks up, your heart starts to pound, but you’re pretty sure that’s the leftover adrenaline from talking to seungcheol.

“hello?”

“i think we need to tell people the truth. everyone’s acting like i’m some kind of horrible person because i’ve gone on a few dates since we decided to end things.”

jihoon sighs on the other end. “do whatever you want. i don’t care.”

that makes you pause. “are we okay, jihoon? people keep acting like i hurt your feelings. you’re okay, right?”

you can almost hear the wheels turning in jihoon’s head. you’re about to ask again, but then he says, “you and i are fine. don’t worry about it.”

“okay.” you say slowly. “so how has - “

“if that’s all you needed, i’m really busy. i’ll text you sometime.” he barely gives you a chance to say goodbye before he hangs up, phone going black in your hand as you lean against the counter.

as you put your groceries away, there’s a single thought running through your head over and over again.

why did that conversation leave you feeling so hollow?

seungcheol barges into jihoon’s studio, eyes blinded by the new bright lights, and immediately starts complaining. loudly.

jihoon starts by telling him he’s being entirely too loud for a monday, pulling his headphones tighter against his ears. he does his best to block his friend out, to ignore whatever he’s complaining about. it’s probably about one of his idols skipping leg day again.

then seungcheol says your name, and jihoon is forced to pay attention. he slips his headphones down to rest on his neck and turns around to face the other man, doing his best to keep his face neutral.

“what did you say? i wasn’t listening.”

seungcheol huffs, arms crossed over his chest like an irritated child. “i said, i saw your ex at the supermarket saturday. she was so rude, i couldn’t believe her - coming up to me like she didn’t have a care in the world, smiling like she was happy to see me. well, i was not happy to see her and i’ll tell you what, hoon, i didn’t bother hiding it.”

“when have you ever.” jihoon mumbles.

“anyway, i told her i just thought it was kind of funny, you know, that she’s already dating again when you only broke up what, a month ago? like she already had them set up, you know?” his face pinches angrily. “i’m still not convinced she didn’t.”

jihoon’s heart clenches, painful and tight. as if the thought of you on dates wasn’t painful enough. “i promise you she didn’t. just...take it easy on her, okay?”

“what do you mean? you’re clearly messed up about all of this and she’s out there acting like everything is fine. i know you guys said you agreed to be friends, but i just don’t buy that shit, jihoon. i don’t know what you even saw in her, she’s a-”

“choi seungcheol, don’t you dare say what you’re about to say. i’m telling you to let it go, so let it go and leave her alone.”

seungcheol’s eyes go wide, stunned silent. he and jihoon watch each other for a minute or two, and seungcheol pouts, shrugging. “i’m just trying to look out for you, hoon.”

jihoon sighs. “i know, cheol. i know, okay? i know i’ve been making everyone uncomfortable. i’ll be fine eventually.”

seungcheol doesn’t buy that. “but if you agreed to be friends, why are you so upset? why does it seem like you had your heart broken? i just don’t get it.”

“i said i’ll be fine -”

“but you’re not fine now, and it doesn’t make any sense, why won’t you just tell me why -”

“it’s because we were never actually dating!” jihoon explodes, crumbling under seungcheol’s pressure. seungcheol stops talking, mouth hanging open and eyes so wide they look ready to pop out. jihoon sighs and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. “god dammit, cheol.” he mutters. “we weren’t going to tell anyone.”

“then...why…” seungcheol whispers, almost like he’s asking himself and not jihoon.

“because i fucked up, cheol, okay? i caught feelings and obviously, she didn’t, and she didn’t want to do it anymore. so i agreed, and now we’re...here.”

seungcheol scratches at his jaw. “are you...are you sure? you guys were pretty convincing, both of you. also, not offense, hoon, but i kind of have a hard time believing you would even...do something like that.”

jihoon bites his lip. “i mean, it was her idea, but it wasn’t like i was going along with it because i had feelings for her then, you know? i just....the blind dates were getting worse and worse.”

they both sigh.

“so anyway just...don’t be so hard on her. my feelings are my problem, not hers.” jihoon turns away, back to his monitors.

“so…” seungcheol starts, making jihoon’s shoulders tense, “have you had lunch yet? i’m in the mood for dumplings.”

“go order some then.” jihoon tells him. “and bring me some.”

“no, no, no, jihoon,” seungcheol smirks and stands up, turning jihoon’s chair back to face him. “i’m not letting you stay cooped up in here. come on.” he grabs his friend’s wrist and gently pulls him forward and out of his seat. “it’s nice out, let’s take a walk.”

jihoon rolls his eyes but lets himself be dragged along.

“by the way, when did you get new lights? the purple neon was so cool!”

jihoon’s ears flush red. “someone suggested it...the neon was cool but trying to look at my monitors in the low light was giving me headaches.”

they say time heals all wounds.

that’s the first thing to come to mind when jihoon feels a tap on his shoulder as he’s standing in line at a coffee shop. it’s been a little more than two months since he’s spoken to you, a little more than three since the “break up”. he’s been doing...better.

he turns around and sees you, smiling so brightly at him, and it’s like nothing has changed. there’s a dull aching in his chest that reminds him of his pain, but mostly he can’t help but feel happy to see you. he only falters for a moment before smiling back at you.

“jihoon!” you exclaim, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. “it’s been so long. funny that we see each other here, isn’t it?”

jihoon tilts his head, unsure. you giggle, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“this is the cafe we went to together on christmas. it’s okay that you didn’t remember, we only came the one time and it was all decorated, so!” you laugh again and jihoon wants to hear more. he wants it so badly.

“oh, i guess it is!” he says. he almost wishes it hurt more to see you. it barely hurts at all, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing. you look so happy to see him and he’s having trouble processing that.

you want to tell him you miss him. the words are tucked just behind your teeth, but it feels...wrong. like a feeling that should just be kept hidden away, to yourself. “has work been keeping you busy? i saw one of your songs became a big hit, the one you wrote for seokmin? it was really, really good.” you don’t tell him about the playlist you have of songs he’s written, or how you listen to it over and over throughout your day.

jihoon nods. “thanks, yeah, i’ve been even busier since that did so well, funny enough.” he smiles. “it’s good though. what a nice reason to be busy, you know?”

you smile too, nodding. you both order your drinks - iced americano for jihoon, your regular for you - and stand together as you wait, buzzers in hand.

“would you um - do you wanna get a table? we can sit and catch up!” you offer, smile tentative and shy. you’re not sure what it is about jihoon that makes you feel this way.

jihoon’s smile falters for a moment in his shock. unfortunately, he already has plans with seungcheol and woomin, and he tells you as much. hairline fractures form in his heart from the way your face falls.

“oh, i understand! maybe another time, then?” you replace your smile quickly, tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear. jihoon’s buzzer goes off and he stumbles over his words with his response, but he does agree. he would like to get coffee with you sometime, maybe soon, but he does need to go.

“it was - “ you pause. “i’m really glad i ran into you, jihoon. text me, okay? i’ll be waiting.”

jihoon hopes his eyes don’t go as wide as they feel. “yeah-yeah, i will. okay. um. bye.” he waves at you as he exits the cafe, and you’re already sad to see him go.

you chew on your lip, thinking. the buzzer goes off in your hand and you step to the counter, exchanging the device for your drink. you find a seat by the window and set your belongings down. you take a sip and watch people pass by, thoughts turning to the last time you’d been in this cafe. it had been after christmas, just you and soyoung, who had teased you gleefully when you’d told her that you’d found this place on a date with jihoon.

“you guys are so cute~” soyoung singsongs, taking a bite of her cake. “i’m so glad i set you guys up. you like him so much, i can tell.”

your cheeks flush. “shush, soyoung.” you don’t know how to tell her she’s wrong. you don’t have feelings for jihoon, aside from the ones that pop up when the two of you are pretending for everyone else’s sake.

“i mean it.” she tells you softly. “i can see the way you two look at each other. it’s like destiny, really.”

the idea of destiny sets a strange feeling in your stomach. hot, and a little bit like shame, but also something else. something softer, like longing.

“you know i don’t believe in destiny.” you tell her. “i’m sure you would have set me and jihoon up eventually, you just happened to have the opportunity handed to you.”

“exactly!” soyoung laughs. “destiny! destiny with a side of sugar cookies.”

you laugh at that, remembering jihoon’s stressed face when you’d shown up that night, kitchen littered with attempts at sugar cookie dough. he’d been so flustered, so...cute.

soyoung laughs to herself, as if she’s thought of some funny joke, and then she looks at you with mischief in her eyes. “you like him. you were just thinking about how cute he is, i know it.”

“get out of my brain you weirdo.” you shove at her from across the table, but don’t deny it.

you take another sip of your drink. you ought to tell her the truth, you think. and soon.

jihoon can’t stop smiling as he drives to woomin and soyoung’s house. you wanted to see him again. you had been happy to see him. that had to mean - he didn’t want to get his hopes up, didn’t want to dream too high, but that had to mean that maybe, just maybe, you missed him.

he couldn’t think about it too much, but it was...a nice feeling, if nothing else.

he’s greeted by the sight of woomin and seungcheol lying on the couch at weird angles, and soyoung’s voice from the kitchen saying “they’ve been like that for an hour. weirdos.”

she looks at jihoon for a moment, watching him carefully. jihoon can feel the weight of it, knows she’s only concerned. things were...hard, back in february. soyoung is your friend, yes, but jihoon is woomin’s family, and he’s known soyoung for so long because of that. he wonders if she feels like… jihoon looks at her and smiles, softly.

“hi, soyoung.” he says softly. he turns to the couch and says “hey, losers, are we gonna play or what?”

the two men look up at jihoon, smiling and laughing as they try to untangle themselves.

“hey, hoon!” they both cry.

“i’m gonna kick your ass, so get ready.”

a few hours later finds them seated at the dinner table, halfway through their second pizza.

"so jihoon," woomin starts, a teasing tone to his voice, "you seem awfully happy today. would you like to share with the class?"

jihoon's cheeks flush. somehow, the idea of telling them that it's because he saw you seems so silly. maybe it's because they've seen how roughly the last few months have treated him. maybe it's because he doesn't want to admit he's getting his hopes up (again). he doesn't want to seem like that ex who just can't let go, who thinks every smile of yours has some hidden meaning just for him.

but to be fair, you and jihoon had never been typical exes.

“i uh...i ran into...well…” he blushes further and doesn’t even have to say your name for them all to know. “at the coffee shop, right before i got here.”

seungcheol smirks knowingly, but woomin looks a little concerned.

“jihoon she wasn’t...mean, was she?” jihoon and soyoung both shoot him a look as if to say “watch it”, and he puts his hands up in surrender.

“no, she wasn’t, she was lovely.” jihoon sighs. “just like always.”

“you actually talked to her?” seungcheol sounds surprised.

“well, it would have been rude not to...plus she approached me! and she seemed...i dunno, happy to see me.”

woomin and seungcheol sigh, now. soyoung stands and moves into the kitchen to grab another drink.

“i just don’t understand, jihoon.” seungcheol takes a sip of his beer. his third or fourth - who’s keeping count?

“i just don’t understand why you didn’t tell her you had feelings for her.”

jihoon’s eyes bulge wide, flush creeping up his neck in anger.

“what?” woomin asks, confused.

“just because you guys weren’t actually dating doesn’t mean -”

“hey!” jihoon shouts, just as the sound of shattering glass comes from the kitchen. they all turn to see soyoung, face bright red and a bottle shattered at her feet. she pays it no mind, stepping forward to crowd between seungcheol and jihoon.

“what did you just say, seungcheol?” her question is directed at seungcheol, but her gaze is directed at jihoon, who sighs and lays his head on the table.

“i’ll explain everything.”

“so if i understand you correctly, you guys were faking a relationship, you developed feelings for her, and didn’t think to tell her that when she decided to break things off?”

“well, well she wanted to end it, and i wanted to respect her wishes, and i didn’t think it would make a difference.” jihoon shrugs. “she wanted it to end, so i let it. it doesn’t mean...doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though.”

soyoung lets out a loud, long suffering sigh. “you’re both idiots. and she’s going to get it.”

soyoung stands and jihoon goes to say something - to defend you, maybe - but thinks better of it. obviously soyoung must be feeling hurt right now - her best friend spent months lying to her, and nothing jihoon could say would change or fix that.

the three men hear the door slam as soyoung leaves, and they all let out a breath and slump in their seats.

jihoon reaches an arm out and punches seungcheol in the shoulder. “way to go, bigmouth.” he scolds, but he’s not...angry. he would have preferred maybe waiting or...maybe he’s not sure what he wants.

“you know, jihoon…” woomin says softly, looking all-too-interested in his nails. “if it was really going that badly, i would have stopped trying to set you up…”

jihoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “it’s just...i know you meant well. i didn’t know how to tell you, you know? when you were just looking out for me.”

woomin nods, and seungcheol takes another sip of his beer - or he tries to, before jihoon swipes it out of his hand and gulps the rest down himself.

“you don’t drink.” seungcheol whines, but doesn’t get up to grab another.

“i’ve gotten used to it.” jihoon says flatly, setting the glass down.

“oh shit,” woomin says suddenly. “the glass soyoung dropped.” he stands quickly and runs for the broom and mop, jihoon moving to help him. both of them yell for seungcheol to stay seated, so he does, with a pout on his face.

you check your phone for the third time in one minute. you have no missed calls, no voicemails, no new texts, nothing to explain whoever was fucking pounding at your front door. you charge through your living room and tear the door open, ready to start screaming at whoever thought they could use your door as some kind of punching bag.

but then you see soyoung standing there, her eyes red and wet.

“you lied to me.” she says, voice tight and harsh and firm.

you step aside to let her in, shutting the door gently behind you. you take a seat on the couch, knowing soyoung will not do the same.

you’ve only seen soyoung like this a handful of times. you know exactly what it means, and it explains the lack of missed calls.

when soyoung is truly heartbroken, there is no explosion, no shouting matches. she just goes quiet.

she stands in front of you, not unlike a parent about to scold their child. you’ve seen her like this before, but it’s never been directed at you.

“i’m sorry.” you say quietly, but she just scoffs and closes her eyes, rubbing her temples.

“don’t.” she says.

“i wanted to tell you.”

“i said don’t.” she says, soft but full of acid.

“why come over if not to let me explain, soyoung?” you retaliate, voice barely above a whisper.

“fine then. if you wanted to tell me, why didn’t you?” her eyes flash open and she turns to face you.

“because...because i…”

“because why?”

you close your eyes tightly and take a deep breath. “because how was i supposed to tell you i’ve been faking a relationship just to get you off my back, soyoung?”

the room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop. you’re afraid to open your eyes, but you know you have to. when you do, the look on soyoung’s face is so full of hurt you wish you’d never opened your big mouth. but then again, that’s what got you into this mess in the first place.

“please...please don’t think i’m trying to say this is your fault, because i’m not, really, i just...it’s not even jihoon’s fault, i was just so stressed and i dealt with it horribly and i lied to you and i’m so fucking sorry, soyoung. there was no reason i couldn’t have just...talked to you. i’m an idiot and i love you, and i hope you can forgive me.”

soyoung doesn’t say anything for a minute or two, and you know better than to try and say any more. she chews her bottom lip as she mulls over your words. “i just wanted you to be happy again.”

your heart breaks. “i know, soyoung. i know you wanted me to have love, and you were doing what you thought was the right thing. i was ungrateful and should have just talked to you about it like a normal person when it wasn’t working.”

“yes.” she says, soft but sharp. “you should have. i would have understood.”

you swallow thickly, trying hard not to cry. “i know. i know, i was just...blinded by my stupid brain, okay? i’m so sorry i hurt you. i never, ever wanted that soyoung.”

finally, she sits down on the couch next to you, throwing her head back over the edge. “i’m not...i’m going to forgive you. but not yet. you fucked up in ways i don’t think you even understand yet. this isn’t just about you lying to me.”

this surprises you. “what do you mean?”

“it’s not for me to tell you.” she sighs. “get me a drink.” you do as she asks, going to the kitchen and grabbing her a bottle of water. “so no more blind dates.”

you let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “god, please, soyoung. your taste in men - man, i mean, so woomin - is great, right up until it comes to setting them up with me.” you think for a moment. “although, i suppose if the situation had been different, maybe me and jihoon would have been a nice couple.”

soyoung groans. “i’m going to kill you.”

you laugh. “what? he’s handsome. we looked good together!”

“you’re an idiot. that’s all i’m going to say. also, you need to drive me home. i was drinking earlier so i had to call a cab to come over here.”

you groan good-naturedly. “i can’t believe you raced over here to yell at me and you’re demanding i drive you home.”

“this is your punishment.” she says simply, and you think to yourself that you’re getting off lightly. “that won’t be it though. i’m really upset with you.”

“i understand, boss.”

she smacks you lightly. “let’s go.”

you nod, getting up to grab your keys and put on shoes. as the two of you get into the car, you realize something.

“wait a second. did jihoon tell you?”

“yes and no.” she picks up your phone to look through your playlists. “seungcheol let it slip, and then jihoon was sort of forced to explain.”

oh. you hadn’t realized he’d told seungcheol. you wonder if it had happened because of what you’d said, or...oh well. no use worrying about it now.

you drop soyoung off and...to say you’re surprised to see jihoon’s car wouldn’t be quite right. you’d known he was here - he’d told you as much, and so had soyoung. but seeing it now, now that everything has come to light, you feel...strange. lighter, freer, but strange all the same. you wish soyoung good night and she asks if you want to come in and say hi to everyone.

“not tonight. another time, okay? go in and drink some water. love you.”

she smiles and squeezes your hand. “love you too.”

you watch her walk up to the door and head inside, greeted at the door by woomin. you can already imagine the pout he must be giving her, ‘i was so worried about you!’ you know she’s giving him a pout right back. you smile to yourself and pull back onto the road, heading back home.

you don’t text jihoon first. he promised he would, and jihoon has never broken a promise he’s made you, so you wait. he’s also incredibly busy, so it’s better for him to set a time and date for the two of you to meet up. get together. hang out? you’re not sure which term fits best here, but none of the above feel right, they stick to your tongue in a way that’s reminiscent of cherry medicine.

the text comes two weeks later on a friday after you get off work. you’re heading out to your car, toying with the idea of going to eat somewhere you can sit outside and enjoy the evening sunshine when your phone goes off. you pull it from your purse and can’t fight the smile spreading on your face when you see the notification. you call him immediately instead of texting back, too excited to wait for the back and forth of a text conversation.

“oh!” comes jihoon’s voice, and your stomach flutters. you’ve missed his voice. “sorry, were you driving?”

“nope!” you reply, opening the door to you car and settling yourself inside. ��just wanted to call. it’s funny, you know, i was just thinking about going out somewhere and enjoying the sun when i got your text. are you hungry?”

jihoon hums, and you imagine him playing with the buttons on his sound setup. “yeah, we could get some food. how about we go down to the river and have something delivered?”

“that sounds great! i’ll meet you there? i’m leaving work now.”

you and jihoon agree on a place to meet and hang up. you turn on your car and your summer playlist and pull out of the garage, mentally crossing your fingers that your drive won’t be too bad.

you find a place to park and walk the rest of the way to meet jihoon. you find him already waiting for you, sitting on a bench facing the road with a blanket tucked under his arm. you’re struck by how handsome he is - he’s cut his hair since the last time you saw him, and dyed it to a pretty shade of silver. he turns, face lighting up with a smile when he sees you coming. he waves and your heart pounds a little. you feel a little selfish - you only want him to smile like that for you.

he stands as you come up to his bench, smile softening. “it’s good to see you.” he says, voice gentle. he gathers the blanket in his arms and gestures towards the grass. “do you want to get a spot and then order something, or order now and then go set up?”

you look down towards the riverside - the grass is dotted with groups of people, but not yet as crowded as it would become later. “i think we have some time! if it starts getting busy, one of us can go find a spot while the other waits for food.”

jihoon nods and both of you take a seat on the bench, crowding together to look over the delivery app on jihoon’s phone. you decide on pizza and while jihoon pays, you run into the corner store across the street to grab drinks. when you return, jihoon tells you it shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes, so you should have plenty of time.

“so...i know i always ask, but how has work been?”

jihoon smiles. “it’s okay, i like that you always ask. work has been good. things are going well, so the company is growing. i get to make music for even more artists, so i’m pretty busy. this is the first friday in a while that i’ve left the studio at a normal time.”

“wow.” you draw the sound out, playing with a string on the sleeve of your blouse. “i hope you’re still sleeping and eating well, right?”

the tips of jihoon’s ears go red and you smile. “well, you know, i do my best.”

you chuckle, tucking some hair behind your ear. “you’re gonna need glasses from the way you stare at that screen all the time. it’s bad for your eyes.”

jihoon coughs. “i fixed the lights, so it hasn’t been as bad.” he laughs nervously. “no more headaches.”

you’re stunned for a moment. “oh, that - that’s good, jihoon. i’m glad.”

he nods and the two of you fall into silence.

“oh, how is your work going?”

you shrug. “same old same old. new day, new but also same reports needing checked, you know.”

“i don’t, but if you ever wanted to explain i would be happy to listen.” jihoon is looking down at his phone when you turn to look at him, eyes a little wide.

“i ...i mean it’s not that exciting or anything.”

now jihoon shrugs. “but do you like it?”

“i mean...it could definitely be worse! i like it most of the time.”

“then i would like to hear you talk about it.”

“lee jihoon?”

the two of you look up and see a delivery man, straddling his bike and looking over at the two of you. jihoon jumps up and goes over to take the food from him, then comes back to you.

“shall we go find a spot?”

you grab the blanket and the bag of drinks and head off down the path, jihoon following behind with the pizza. you find a nice spot - not too crowded yet - and settle down to eat. the pizza is good and keeps the two of you quiet for a bit, between idle bits of chatter and big bites.

you’re halfway through your third slice when jihoon says, “it’s really good to see you.” the motion of your jaw slows down until it stops, and you turn to look at him. it doesn’t have to be as meaningful as you sort of want it to be. you and jihoon were friends - are friends - and it’s been a really long time since you’ve been able to hang out. he doesn’t mean anything more by it, at least that’s what you tell yourself.

jihoon’s heart has been ready to leap out of his chest this entire time, always two beats shy of bursting. every minute detail of being this close to you is sending his senses haywire. he’s missed being close to you like this, regardless of the context.

“you too.” you say, smiling at him gently, a little unsure. your cheeks are surely flooded with color but you try to ignore it, tipping your head back to finish off one of your canned coffees. “it’s nice, hanging out again. i’ve missed it.”

jihoon hopes desperately that you mean that you miss him. that you’ve missed him in the same way he’s missed you. it’s not likely, he knows, but he can’t help but hope.

“we should do this more often.” you say, inspecting the second box to see if you could possibly eat another slice. “it’s nice! hanging out together like this, you know?” you lean into jihoon to dig at him with your elbow. “plus we both know you need to get out more often.”

jihoon stares down at the coffee in his hands, fingers playing with the rim of the can. “yeah, uh, seungcheol says the same thing.” you visibly bristle at the mention of seungcheol’s name, pulling away from him, and jihoon misses the warmth of your touch immediately. “he wanted me to tell you he’s sorry, by the way. about the uh - the grocery store thing.”

you sigh. “it’d mean more coming from him. and you can tell him i said so.”

“he was just -”

“looking out for you, i know, jihoon. i’ve acted the same way to soyoung’s exes before, so it’s not like i don’t get it, it’s just...it’s not very nice being on the receiving end. i guess that’s all.”

jihoon looks at you and his heart breaks, just a little. he knows - and you know - that you didn’t deserve it, no matter how kind seungcheol’s intentions had been (at least, in regards to jihoon’s feelings). “i’m sorry.”

you look up at him, eyes wide and sad. “why are you sorry? how - jihoon, really, don’t be sorry, okay?” you want to take him into your arms and comfort him. why on earth was he trying to take any responsibility for this? “hoonie, really, i mean it. i don’t want you to feel sorry. you didn’t do anything wrong.”

jihoon turns away from you. he can’t listen to you say those words so genuinely when he’d only done everything wrong - your agreement had only had one rule, and he’d broken it.

“jihoon?” your voice is soft, unsure. he looks up at the setting sun, dark purple lining the horizon. “are you okay?”

he turns to you, putting on what he hopes is his most reassuring smile. “i’m fine! just kinda tired. all this overworking, you know? really catching up to me.”

you pout at him. “so go home and rest, hoonie. we can hang out again some other time.”

“no, i’m fine.” he insists. “i want to be here! i can rest later. i’m taking tomorrow off.” you raise your eyebrow at him, and he laughs. “i am, really. i promise. i don’t have any hard deadlines.”

“fine.” you sigh, dramatic, then burst into laughter and lay back on the blanket, closing your eyes.

jihoon looks at you with adoration shining brightly in his eyes, but if you asked him he would just say it’s the sun. in his mind, you were kind of one and the same.

“but uh - what you said before? about hanging out like this? we could do that. make it a weekly thing.”

you open one eye and look up at him. “yeah?”

he smiles. “yeah. especially since it’s so nice out. i think it’d be a good way to spend the summer.”

you close your eye again, resting your hands on your stomach and letting a serene smile onto your face. “i think you might be right.”

you and jihoon stay by the riverside until well after dark, talking about more things than the two of you were ever able to before. it’s almost as if this is the first time the two of you have ever really hung out, as if you’d only scratched the surface of what there was to know about each other. thinking back, you could only recall talking about the trauma that your relationships had caused you both and jihoon’s work. and you know that looking back, you hadn’t minded. but now, now that things are different, you wish you would have known more about him sooner.

when the night is over, jihoon walks you back to your car, blanket slung over his shoulder with the strap. he wishes he could hold your hand, but he knows he’s not allowed to anymore.

“so from now on,” you say, settling yourself into the driver’s seat and looking at jihoon, who’s framed himself between the door and the body, “we’ll meet up every friday, unless one of us has some kind of hard deadline, in which case we’ll meet that sunday. no take backs, okay?”

jihoon laughs, nodding. “you got it.” he sticks out his pinky, and you laugh too, linking your finger with his. “it’s a promise.”

and jihoon has never broken any of his promises to you. except for one.

slowly but surely, you and jihoon begin to find your way back to each other, closer than ever before. texting becomes a near constant between the two of you, from morning to night, everything from coworker complaints to pictures of things that reminded you of each other. as the summer nights grow hotter, so does your affection for jihoon grow warmer - you curse your past self for not allowing yourself the opportunity to know him as you do now.

this week’s get together has been pushed back to a saturday - you’d had a rush project that had needed your attention at work friday night. jihoon had understood and promised to pay for brunch the next day, figuring you would need the treat.

“i don’t deserve you, hoon.” you’d groaned into the phone at the time, to jihoon’s nervous laughter.

“it’s fine. you can buy next time.”

“you bet. okay, i gotta go. see you tomorrow.”

you meet jihoon at the restaurant since it’s only a short walk from your apartment and the weather hasn’t quite reached stifling yet. you get a text from jihoon saying he’s already grabbed a table and a playful request to hurry up.

you find him near the back, by a big window, looking over the menu with a concentrated pout on his face. already there’s a pitcher of mimosas on the table, meaning he’d ordered it for you without even thinking. an absolute sweetheart, that jihoon.

“hey hoon~” you singsong, taking your seat across from him. “what’s up?”

“bout time you showed up.” he smirks, taking a sip of his coffee. “there’s a ‘summer lovin’ special. stuffed french toast, mini omelettes, potatoes, choice of meat, and two muffins to go.”

“i’m in.”

jihoon snickers and closes his menu. “i figured as much. so how’d it go last night?”

you sigh and take a long sip of your drink, letting its fruity flavor and boozy effects soothe you. “i was there til nearly ten, but i finished. thankfully one of the interns stayed to help me - i’m definitely recommending he be brought on full-time.”

jihoon nods, but says nothing. there’s a funny little feeling in his chest that he’s willfully choosing to ignore.

“i felt so bad, because he’s said that he and his boyfriend haven’t been able to meet lately, but they had plans this weekend so it worked out okay.”

huh, jihoon thinks. the little feeling is gone.

you order your food and hand back your menus, the waitress smiling at the two of you as if she knew something you and jihoon did not.

she comes back to refill your water glasses, and jihoon’s coffee, promises your food soon, and smiles at you again as she backs away.

you take a sip of your mimosa before refilling it yourself, squinting. “jihoon.”

“hmm?”

“i think the waitress is hitting on you.”

jihoon sputters and chokes on his coffee. “you’re drunk. she is not.”

you’re pretty sure you’re not drunk. you could be wrong though. “how many mimosas have i had?”

“like, three, and it��s been maybe twenty minutes.” he frowns. “slow down. the waitress…” his cheeks flush. “she thinks we’re dating.”

oh.

“shut up.” you whisper. you can feel your cheeks flushing from more than the alcohol floating through your system, and take a sip from your water in an attempt to ease the burn.

“anyway…” jihoon clears his throat. “i was hoping i could ask you for a favor.”

you perk up. “of course! what’s up?”

jihoon smiles and you’re pretty sure that angels are singing somewhere. “so, the baseball league is doing like, a block party in july, and i was wondering if you could help me make cookies or something again?”

“oh no.” you giggle. “did you miss a meeting again? surely there will be enough different grills going that you could do one of those.”

he scratches at the back of his head, ears tinged pink. “well...yeah, but...people really liked your cookies, and asked me if my uh, girlfriend would be helping again, and i didn’t really know how to bring up that we, uh -”

“oh, okay, jihoon, it’s cool, i was teasing. of course i’ll help you out! maybe something like mini sandwich cookies...that could be fun…” your mind is immediately swept away with different recipes and options, pulling your phone out and starting a new note for yourself.

jihoon watches you, eyes grateful and adoring. the waitress brings your food as you’re furiously typing away, too distracted to pay her much attention.

“you and your girlfriend are cute.” she says lowly to jihoon, smiling. “how long have you been dating?”

jihoon’s entire face heats up. “we’re - we aren’t - she’s not -”

the waitress nods solemnly and gives jihoon’s chair a gentle, consoling pat. “it’s okay. it’ll all work out. i have an eye for these things.”

jihoon eyes her warily as she walks away, instead choosing to return his focus to you, who has finally snapped out of recipe mode enough to notice the food in front of you.you’ve already dug in, chewing happily on a mouthful of french toast.

“so when is the block party?” you ask, washing your food down with mimosa. “how long do i have to plan?”

jihoon pulls his phone out to check his calendar. “it’s three weeks from today. is that enough time?”

you think for a moment, but your brain is swimming a little. it’ll be fine, you’re pretty sure, so you nod. “hey. how come you’ve never invited me to one of your games?”

jihoon’s eyes go wide. “oh, well...i don’t really...uh. i didn’t know you were interested, i guess.”

“well, i am. i want to come to the next one, okay?”

“that’s tomorrow.”

you shrug. “i’ll be there. text me a time and place later.”

“really, you don’t have to come. i’m sure you’d rather be doing something relaxing after how hellish work was.”

“yeah, that’s what we’re doing now, hoon. do you not want me to come?”

jihoon’s mind races with possible answers. no, he doesn’t want you to come because he’ll get nervous and bring the team down. yes, of course he wants you to come and watch him and be marvelled by his skill, just like in the winter’s talent show. no, because what if you get bored and leave, god that would really -

“jihoon? it’s okay if you don’t. i get it.”

but your voice is tinged with hurt and jihoon just can’t have that. “no, of course i want you to come. don’t be silly.”

a smile back on your face, jihoon relaxes, and brunch continues. he ends up driving you home, due to the spike in the temperature outside as the day had gone on as well as your inebriated state, carefully walking with you up to your door.

“now go in, take some aspirin, and have a nap, okay? and drink more water.”

you hum, skin warm where his hands are guiding you. “okay, okay, it’s not my first time getting a little brunch drunk, jihoon.”

jihoon pouts, watching carefully as you reach for your keys and unlock your door. stepping inside, you lean against the doorway and smile at him.

“i’m looking forward to your game tomorrow.” you pause, then start giggling. “sport.”

jihoon sighs. “i know you’re drunk but please don’t call me that.”

you laugh harder. “sport.” your laughter sends you into a fit, nearly doubling over, stumbling backwards before recovering. “ooh, that’s a good one. okay, bye hoonie!”

you shut the door and leave him standing there, frozen.

you hadn’t called him that in months.

the game ends up being rained out, so jihoon is saved from his what-ifs regarding your attendance, but you promise him you’ll be at the next one. jihoon is busy leading up to the block party, as are you - july is prime vacation time, and someone has to stay in the office and work.

you make your way to jihoon’s house the night before the block party, car full of ingredients for two types of sandwich cookies. you’d even taken the time to prep dough the night before, so all you need is to bake the cookies and then fill them. a lot of them.

jihoon meets you outside and carries in your bags, barely struggling under the weight of the numerous bags. he sets everything on his kitchen counter. “what should i set the oven to?”

“hmm, let’s do 350 to start. the cookies will be small, so they shouldn’t take very long.”

jihoon nods, setting the oven as you start pulling plastic-wrapped dough, quarts of cream and bags of sugar and different fruit out of your bags. jihoon’s eyes bug out a little at the sight, and you laugh.

“can i trust you to start rolling dough out? i brought a roller too so we can both do it, so we can do it nice and fast. we have...a lot of cookies to get done.”

jihoon laughs. “i think i can handle it.”

the two of you get to work, rolling dough out on jihoon’s floured counters, carefully cutting out so many tiny circles and transferring them to baking sheets, rinsing and repeating. once most of the cookies have been baked, jihoon taking over the process, you get to work on making fillings, one for each type of cookie.

you add cream and butter and sugar to the biggest bowl jihoon had, beating it all until it became creamy and smooth and thick, perfect for filling cookies. you then scrape half the mixture into another bowl, setting them aside while you prep your fruit.

jihoon watches you work while he waits for the last batch to finish in the oven. his kitchen is covered in tiny cookies, and he can’t help but feel...a gentle sort of satisfaction, seeing you like this, working at something you love doing, all for his sake. the sun is setting outside, golden light pouring through his kitchen window and shining onto your hair. you’re biting your lip as you concentrate on the knife in your hand, and realization hits jihoon square in his chest.

his feelings for you are going nowhere at an alarming rate - if anything, they’ve only escalated in the time the two of you spent apart, then coming back together, and now, to be here, back in his kitchen just like the night the two of you met, back when it all began...jihoon’s heart and eyes are wide open, looking at you.

jihoon’s heart pound so hard and fast he can barely breathe, and he knows if he doesn’t open up his goddamned mouth and say the words he’s been hiding for weeks now, he’ll only regret it. he has to say it to you now, in the beautiful light of sunset, with your hair a mess and apron covered in sugar, or he’ll never forgive himself.

he says your name, and it feels like home as it leaves his lips. you look up at him, a gentle smile, and ask what he needs.

“i’m in love with you.” he says, and his throat and chest feel raw and open, like a wound that has gone untended for far too long - ignored for the sake of your friendship. “i - i feel like i should apologize, but i - i’m not going to, i’m not going to apologize for loving you, and...and i….please say something.”

your heart is ready to burst out of your chest, straight through your ribcage. you can’t believe the words falling over jihoon’s pretty lips, head swimming with ways you must have misheard him. he continues, and you just stare at him, face flushing three shades of red. he begs you to say something, anything, and you feel tears prick at your eyes. you bring your hands up to wipe them away, and jihoon is across the kitchen in an instant, taking your face into his warm, gentle hands, wiping the tears away for you.

“please.” he whispers. “i promised i would never make you cry.”

you sniffle, unable to look him in the eye. “how long?”

jihoon sighs, rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “i’ve had feelings for you...probably since before new years. but loving you is new. i think i just realized it just now.”

you laugh, a little broken and wet. “just had to tell me, right here and now, huh?”

“you looked so beautiful.” jihoon whispers. “i felt like i was gonna burst if i didn’t.”

“so romantic.” you whisper back. you lean into jihoon’s touch. “why didn’t you tell me before? no wonder everyone was so upset with me when we broke up, hoonie.”

he’ll never tell you how good it feels to hear that nickname in your sweet voice. “because i wanted...i wanted to give you what you wanted, and that was for things to end. it didn’t matter to me how crushed i was, because my feelings weren’t your problem, you know?”

“oh, jihoon…”

he swallows. “you...you haven’t said anything.” he says softly.

“oh…” your voice is soft, undetectable if jihoon hadn’t been so close. “i...i think i love you too, hoonie.” you finally bring your gaze up to meet his, and his eyes are wide and full of hope. “i’m sorry i’ve been such an idiot this whole time, i...i just didn’t know what i was feeling, it was nothing like anything i’ve felt before, and i just kept pushing it aside, hoping it would go away, and then i was always missing you, and none of my dates made me feel as good as you did, and i just...i love you, jihoon.” fresh tears fall from your eyes and jihoon leans forward, only a breath away.

“please,” he whispers. “can i kiss you?”

you nod, and he does, and everything finally falls into place.

jihoon’s mouth is just as soft as you remember, soft like a dream come true, like a confession of love whispered in the golden light of sunset. kissing him feels right, feels like you belong, like this was what you’ve always been meant to do.

jihoon’s hands cradle your face, your perfect beautiful face, as his lips move over yours and this, he thinks, is what every love song is about. this feeling, right here, of knowing you belong so fully to the person you love, of knowing every fiber of your being was put on this earth to love them.

you pull away from him, breathless, heart racing. “i love you.” you whisper. “i love you, jihoonie.” he starts to say something, but you stop him. “i love you, but we have to finish the cookies. i will not have league wives and moms tarnishing your reputation or mine over cookies.”

jihoon’s eyes go wide and he laughs, unable to control himself. he peppers your face with kisses, quick “i love you”s between each one.

“i’m not kidding, jihoon. i have a lot riding on this.”

“i love you.”

“i love you too. now pick up a spoon.”

later, when the cookies are finished and the kitchen is cleaned, you and jihoon are tangled together on his couch, lips working fervently against each other.

“baby.” jihoon whispers, pulling away, panting and lips red. “there’s something i need to show you. i hope it makes more sense now than it did before.”

gently, he removes you from his lap and sets you onto the couch to go to his computer, typing quickly and clicking a few things before music begins to play over his sound system. the song is familiar, but you can’t remember where you’ve heard it before. it’s so obviously jihoon’s, it’s absolutely his style, and then it’s his voice, and you know this isn’t the first time you’re listening to this song, but you just can’t remember where.

“i played this for you on valentines day.” jihoon says quietly, taking a seat in his desk chair.

you nod, saying nothing, listening intently, and then your heart begins to break.

“you wrote this for me.” you whisper, hiding your face in your hands and trying desperately not to cry imagining how your behavior must have made jihoon feel that night. “you were trying to tell me, and i….i was just such a bitch that night, and then i avoided you; god, jihoonie, i can’t even begin to imagine how i made you feel. i’m so, so sorry.”

the song ends and jihoon closes his computer, rejoining you on the couch and taking your hands into his. “you didn’t know any better.” he says gently. “i’ll admit, i was worried maybe you’d figured me out and didn’t know how to let me down easy, but then you ended it, and...i was crushed, yeah, but at least i knew it wasn’t because of my feelings for you.”

you pout. “i’ll never be able to say i’m sorry enough, jihoon. i was so blind. i thought i was doing the right thing, you know?”

“i know, baby. it’s okay. we’re here now, aren’t we?”

you nod and lift jihoon’s hands to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of each. “we’re here now.”

the room goes quiet, neither of you saying anything. jihoon takes you back into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

“why do i have the feeling soyoung is going to very loudly say i told you so when she finds out?” you wonder, playing with jihoon’s fingers.

jihoon laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i think it’s safe to say we deserve it, though.”

you pout. unfortunately, he’s right.

jihoon drives the two of you out of the city. it’s winter again, fresh snow on the ground. he won’t tell you where he’s taking you, but you trust him. with everything you have, you trust him.

it takes a little over an hour to reach your destination, and when you do, you can’t help but burst into laughter.

you hold his hand as you walk inside and take off your shoes, not surprised to see the restaurant bustling and full of couples. he spots an empty table near the back and leads you over, sitting down across from you.

a woman with a small, knowing smile comes over to take your orders.

“i told you the jjigae was magic.” she says. “i’m happy to see the two of you have come back for more.”

you and jihoon both blush.

“well, it was the best kimchi jjigae we’ve ever had.” you say, one hand finding jihoon’s to intertwine your fingers. the owner smiles.

“an order of dumplings too, then?”

jihoon nods. “yes please.”

when you leave, there are a few new polaroids of happy couples pinned to the walls. this time, you and jihoon are up there too.

#lee jihoon #seventeen #seventeen imagines #woozi imagines #seventeen woozi #svt woozi #woozi fanfic #woozi scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #lemon drop

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xxpadfootxx · 4 years

Text

🐾Playing the Part🐾

Summary: No matter how much he tried to tell himself to snap out of it, no matter how much he internally screamed at his muscles to move, Izuku couldn’t do anything but stand and stare at the villain’s second in command.

~~~

There were not many things that could genuinely shock the famed Number One Hero, Deku. He had been a hero for long enough that even when there was something that surprised him, he could usually hide his expression pretty well, focusing on the task ahead and forcing himself to solve the problem in front of him before dwelling on whatever new discovery had shocked him to begin with.

But for the first time in his life, Izuku Midoriya was frozen, stunned by shock, anger, fear, and confusion as he took in the disastrous scene before him, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, slack jawed. The villain in front of him smiled wickedly, his eyes twinkling as he took in Izuku’s expression.

This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening.

“Well well well, Deku, what do you think? Pretty cool, right?” The villain laughed as he gestured to the woman standing beside him, the woman whom, up until a moment ago, was someone Izuku would’ve trusted with his life.

No matter how much he tried to tell himself to snap out of it, no matter how much he internally screamed at his muscles to move, he couldn’t do anything but stand and stare at the villain’s second in command. She was dressed in black and brown fighting leathers, completely different from her usual brightly colored, flowy blouses and t-shirts. Her rosy cheeks had been dusted over with a pale foundation, making her face darker and less cheery. Her hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail, only a single strand of her gorgeous chocolate brown hair hanging in front of her face, the piece having come loose in the midst of all of the fighting.

Ochako Uraraka. The woman he was best friends with. The woman he had grown up with and gone to school with. The woman who had told him years ago that she planned on becoming a hero to give her family a better life. The woman he was deeply in love with.

“Hello Deku,” Ochako said, her voice unusually cold and clipped, her lips parting into a terrified smile that made shivers run up and down Izuku’s spine. “Long time no see.”

Izuku’s mouth opened and closed several times as he fought to find his words. How could this happen? This could not be happening! He wanted this to just be some horrible dream so badly; to wake up and find himself curled around her peacefully sleeping form. But here she was, staring him down with eyes as sharp as daggers, blood dripping from the sword she held in her right hand, the blade glinting as she tilted it threateningly in his direction.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Ochako sneered, her red painted nails gleaming in the sun as she gripped the handle of her weapon harder.

Gulping, Izuku finally managed to speak.

“W-What? W-Why?” Izuku closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Why are you doing this? What have you done?”

Ochako laughed at his questions, her wicked smile widening.

“Why? You’re asking me why? How pathetic, you really don’t know what to do with yourself do you? I’m doing this because this is who I am. I have always felt that this world needed fixing, and although in my youth I was too naive to see it, I have come to realize in my adulthood that violence is the only way to truly cause change.”

“What are you talking about!? You are not the Ochako I know! The Ochako I know has always been loving and kind, gently talking to people and learning about their problems, fighting for a world of peace! The Ochako I know is the sweetest person on this planet, she would never do something like this!” Izuku yelled, his voice strained with desperation.

“Wow, you really are stupid, Izuku,” Ochako said in a frigid tone that stabbed at Izuku’s heart like a spear. “The Ochako you’re talking about never existed. The life you have been living is nothing more than a lie. It’s pitiful really, how easily you fell into my trap. You were so willing to lay yourself down for me, to do anything I asked for no matter the repercussions, I almost feel sorry for you.”

Izuku gaped at her, his words caught in his throat once more.

“But in the end, I guess I could just never push away my true self. This image of me you see before you, this is who I am, and this is who I will always be. I have come to realize in my time with you how ignorant the heroes of this society are, pushing for a world of peace while torturing and killing the villains of this world, oftentimes harming them beyond repair, crippling them for life or sentencing them to a life of damnation. No world like that is worth fighting for,” Ochako said, her eyes glinting as she looked right at him, seemingly staring right into his soul.

Izuku could feel his heart being ripped to shreds, tears dripping from the corners of his eyes as her words slapped him over and over again. This couldn’t be true. This had to be some elaborate scheme, some sick joke to mess with him.

But in his heart he knew. This was no joke. Everything he was seeing, everything he was feeling, was real. He felt his knees buckle, the pressure of this particular realization too much for him. He landed on the ground, his head in his hands, not caring that the enemy could easily strike him down while he was not paying attention. He didn’t have the strength to look up anymore.

“Y-You used me…,” Izuku mumbled into his hands, more tears flowing down his cheeks.

“Obviously.”

Her crass response made him cringe, his sobs becoming audible enough to bounce off of the surrounding debris. His best friend, his seemingly perfect lover, they were gone, reduced to nothing but the form of hatred and death that stood before him. The original villain he had been fighting stood off to the side, keeping silent with a vicious smile on his face as he watched the scene unfold before him. Watching the great, unmatched hero Deku break.

“None of it was real? Your loving words? Your sweet nature? Your warm kisses and hugs? You meant none of it?” Izuku sobbed out, his hands still covering his face.

Silence was his response for a moment, until he felt a warm breath brush against his ear, causing him to shiver. He hadn’t even heard her come up to him.

“It was for the best,” Ochako whispered to him, ignoring him as his cries got louder. “But do not worry my love, the pain will all be over soon.”

Izuku had just enough time to look into her eyes, alarm and somehow even more shock flowing through his system at the implication of her words before he felt the cool bite of the blade sink into his chest. Izuku let out a gasp, his arms involuntarily wrapping around her waist, her own free hand coming up to grasp his collar.

Izuku choked a bit, blood spilling from his wound before he let out one last shaky breath, his eyes rolling back into his head as his form went limp. Ochako watched the light leave his eyes before standing up, releasing his collar from her grasp so his body hit the ground with a heavy thump.

Staring down at his prone form, Ochako’s eyes followed every curve of his now relaxed body before coming to rest on his lips. Leaning down, Ochako splayed her palm across his chest, the lack of his beating heart thumping against her hand causing her heart to flutter lightly. Narrowing her eyes, Ochako leaned forward and pressed her lips to his still ones, her heart fluttering even more at the lack of a reaction. He was normally so eager to kiss her back, the lack of movement was a clear sign to his death.

Removing herself after a moment of basking in the glow of her lover’s death; sharing their final kiss, Ochako smiled at the red lipgloss she left smeared on his lips. Reaching over, Ochako used her fingers to delicately close the lids on his lifeless eyes, her lips parted slightly.

“Goodbye, my dear Deku, sleep well,” She whispered with a light chuckle, continuing to kneel by his side as she felt her boss move up beside her. The villain remained silent, allowing her to mourn in her own, sick, twisted way.

“CUT!”

As soon as that loud declaration sounded, Ochako went to remove herself from Izuku’s body when he reached around suddenly and pulled her back down, silencing her protest with a kiss to her lips.

Ochako giggled when they parted, opening her eyes again to see her husband staring right back at her, his eyes shining brightly. She leaned down once more and gave him a quick peck on the lips before rolling off of him to talk to their director, who was making his way to them with a smile on his face.

“Perfect! Absolutely stunning performance by the two of you! It almost felt real!” Their director raved as he padded up to them, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“Thank you Iida, it was your idea to have that twist at the end,” Ochako said, leaning down to help Izuku up from where he had crumbled to the floor during their performance.

Iida shook his head, his blue locks swaying as he did so.

“It doesn’t matter that I thought of the idea, you two were the ones who brought it to life. Good work to the both of you.”

“Thank you,” Izuku said, wrapping an arm around Ochako’s waist and pulling her against him, smiling at the small squeak she released at the contact.

Iida smiled at them before glancing at the clock.

“I think we have what we need, you two are dismissed for the day.”

The pair thanked him again before rushing out to their car, eager to head home after a long day of filming for their newest upcoming movie, a film about heroes and villains in a fight for survival.

“You know, if we hurry, we can pick up Ryoko from school,” Izuku said as they situated themselves in the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot to the studio.

“Ooooh! Yeah, let’s go surprise her!” Ochako said.

Izuku and Ochako Midoriya loved their jobs as famous actors but hated the fact that it took up so much of their time. They were a family now, and they wanted to spend more time together. Unfortunately, their talent on the big screen oftentimes led to long periods of time away from their precious little daughter, forcing them to hire a nanny to collect their daughter from school and watch her until they could come back home in the evening.

The pair chatted idly as they made their way to their daughter’s school, both of them excited to see their little girl. Izuku drove a little faster than normal, eager to make it there on time. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, both of them were practically trembling in their seats, their eyes scanning the schoolyard.

“There!” Ochako murmured to her husband, pointing at a small girl with bright green hair and brown eyes, her gaze fixed on a praying mantis on the sidewalk, not paying attention to the cars moving through the lot. Clearing his throat, Izuku smiled and rolled down his window.

“Ryoko!”

The little girl snapped her head up before her whole face broke into the world’s brightest smile, scrambling to her feet to rush at the car.

“Mommy! Daddy!” She squealed.

Izuku and Ochako got out of the car, ignoring the stares of the people around them who recognized them from their movies and focused solely on their daughter as she sprinted at them. They both held their arms out for her and caught the squirming little girl as she launched into their arms with a joyful laugh, her tiny arms wrapping around their necks to hold onto them as tightly as she could.

Both of her parents embraced her in a giant hug, nuzzling her face and neck as she giggled, their hearts threatening to burst. They may work hard and they were definitely busy, but they never got tired of spending time with their daughter and her happiness was well worth their time. Coaxing the energetic girl into the car to head home, Izuku and Ochako gave each other a quick kiss before following suit and entering the vehicle, eager to spend the rest of the afternoon with the whole family together.

“I’ll call the nanny on the way home, let her know we’ve got Ryoko,” Ochako said as she buckled herself in.

“Perfect, thank you,” Izuku said glancing over at his amazing wife. “Hey, Ochako?”

“Yeah?” She asked, giving him her undivided attention.

Izuku swooped in and gave her a kiss on the lips, humming when she responded passionately and smiling when he heard his daughter make vomiting sounds from the backseat at their displays of affection.

“I love you,” Izuku said with a smile. “I know we play a whole variety of roles but I will always love you and you will always be my number one, remember that.”

Ochako smiled at him and cupped his cheek lovingly.

“I love you too, and the same goes for you, mister,” Ochako teased before pulling back to call the nanny, Izuku setting the car in drive to go back home, ready to spend the rest of his day playing his favorite role of all, a loving husband and father.

#mha #mha fanfiction #bnha #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfic #izuku x uraraka #ochako x izuku #izuku midoriya #urakara ochako #izuocha-fanfic #izuocha

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calumthoodposts · 5 years

Text

Broken Home | Part 2

Warnings: Abused mind

Take care of yourself<3

The backs of her exposed thighs coming in contact with the freezing metal chair made the hairs on her arms stand on edge. Reyna attributed her chills to that instead of the fact that she was sat in an interrogation room with a woman that she had never met before staring at her empathetically. The concrete walls didn't contribute warmth or comfort, neither did the stereotypical one-way mirror that took up the expanse of the wall straight across from her.

The police officer was a woman named Lori. Her brown hair was in tight curls and she had the kindest eyes that Reyna had ever seen on a person. Even with those silvery-blue irises pleading with her, to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, she couldn't do it. She couldn't bring herself to just come out and admit that the man that she had loved since she was seventeen had been emotionally and physically abusing her for nearly half of that time. It was obvious, but it felt impossible for her to say that Aaron simply acted how he always did.

She didn't seek some false sense of justice because that was how things played out for her. In her eyes, she had swung twice and missed both times. The first swing was her dropping out of university as Aaron wanted to be the one who provided. In her eyes, she could always go back to school, but she could never find another Aaron. It was an ultimatum that seemed simple.

He needed to feel like a man, and if her not having a career was what would make him happy, it was a sacrifice that she was more than willing to make. That same sacrifice made her father and mother's disgruntlement grow until they eventually stopped checking in altogether. She never blamed them for it. They worked relentlessly to provide her with a future that she traded in for a man they didn't believe was worthy of her love. Never would she blame them for having higher hopes for her than domesticity.

The second swing was trying to make him a better man, the man she loved before he became who he was now. It was easy for her to see that through all of her efforts, she still didn't do enough. When the bills were tight, which they always were, her nights were spent across the hall babysitting the neighbor’s kid for money. It wasn't difficult to slip out of his arms at night, his drunken snores never faltered as she shut their bedroom door and crossed the hall. Reyna would hide the bills that they didn't have money for and pay them in secret, him never remembering when things were due made it easy. It was easy for her to lie to herself and say she preferred it like that.

Keeping him distracted was how she tried to combat his stress, but that never worked as he would just get frustrated with her and reach for the Jack on the counter instead of the soft skin on her waist. Reyna tried her best to get him into counseling, but she was never convincing enough to make him actually go. In the beginning, she felt hope in his promise to seek help. She could see it in his eyes that he saw what he was becoming. The drugs reminded him of his father in a way that scared him at first until he eventually found comfort in that familiarity. The two misses made her accept the defeat and take accountability.

In the back of her mind as she recounted those thoughts she was aware of Lori staring at her with the empathetic eyes of a woman who just wanted the truth. The question Reyna had to answer was simple: Who started the fight and why?

That question was met with her silence, her eyes glossed over as she stared at her hands and thought about how she never wanted to end up here. No matter how violent and irrational Aaron got, she would never have gone to the authorities. It made her feel sick seeing him shoved into the back of a police cab with chains around his wrists.

"Honey, I know it's hard to talk about situations like this. We just want to make sure that we have the facts straight. Nothing bad is going to happen to you." Reyna let her brown eyes snap to Lori's. She was sure that they must have been swimming with satirical amusement. Bad things had already happened to her, she wasn't scared for herself. There was only apprehension for Aaron in her mind. "Can I see him?"

The officer let out a breath that was exasperated and melancholic but was perceived by the brown-eyed girl as thoughtful. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. Mr. Deming is still very intoxicated and we're having trouble getting him to cooperate."

"I can make him calm down," Reyna spoke quickly and looked into her eyes, pleadingly. "Please just let me see him. Let me talk to him first and I'll give you my statement."

The woman looked at her with a sad resolution, one that made the younger girl's stomach churn in an almost guilty way, before she said that she would speak to some people and see what she could do. Reyna knew her hands were tied. It was an investigation of aggravated assault that everyone knew– they'd have to be daft not to– who was guilty of initiating it.

She had ridden to the station in the back of the last cop car at the scene. They had only left to the station after an ambulance had come to take care of the boy who had helped her and was nearly beaten to a pulp as a consequence. The only battle scars Aaron adorned were the light scratches on his cheek from being pushed against the brick wall.

Lori came back with a small smile on her face, one that she knew was for her benefit. The older woman didn't bother to sit down and she only walked to the table and leaned against it lightly. "They said that you can see him when they finish questioning him a little." Reyna locked her gaze with her and breathed a breath of relief. "Thank you so much."

She needed to see him. It felt like a monster was digging its nails into her heart and squeezing it tighter with every minute that passed. She needed to talk to him because it didn't make her feel good knowing that he was angry and in pain without her. "In the meantime, the other boy arrived only a few minutes ago and finished his statement. He's a lot more cooperative than your frie-."

"He's my boyfriend." Reyna's lips spat out before she could think and she gave Lori an apologetic look immediately after, to which she just smiled halfheartedly, the sad look still in her eyes. "Would you like to speak with Mr. Hood while we wait? It'll be a little while."

Reyna thought about her question. At first, she nearly scoffed at the mention of the boy who was the reason for them being here in the first place. Her wanting to talk with him felt asinine to her, she was too emotionally high strung that she felt almost irritated at the thought of him. The logical part of her took a little too long to kick in, but when it did, she acquiesced. She wanted to ask him why.

The hallways that she was led through matched the cold concrete theme of the room she was just in. The bright lights above that reflected off the gray floor and into her eyes, marking her head throb slightly. It was like every jail in every movie ever, living up to every stereotype. Even a box of doughnuts laid next to the coffee and snacks in the breakroom they passed by.

The room that Hood, it dawned on her that she didn't know his first name yet, didn't surprise her when it was identical to hers. Even the frigid cold that hit her when she stepped inside of it was the same, making her hair stand on end. The boy was sat in the metal chair and had his head leaned back, his eyes were closed, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. When the door opened he looked at her with an unreadable expression and, upon seeing his face in the light, she let out a breath and her jaw fell open.

It was adorned with butterfly bandages over a particularly deep cut on his brow bone, not deep enough to need stitches, but too deep to just leave it be. The white bandages contrasted the dark purple and maroon red bruising that formed across his cheeks and his left eye. Seeing him made the feeling of sickness come back up again. She was absolutely speechless, drinking him in. "I'll come and check on you two in five minutes."

It was a kind sentiment, but both of the people left in the room knew there would be people listening on the other side of the two-way mirror. The door shut and the silence that followed was deafening. Neither of them spoke as they just stared at each other. Her eyes swam with shock and worry while he held a curiosity that she hadn't ever seen before.

"I'm sorry." Finally tearing her eyes away from his face and forcing them to look at the ground, she walked to the chair opposite of him and sat down. When her eyes met him again, he had his eyebrows furrowed. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

He had an accent that she hadn't noticed before and it intrigued her as to why a boy all the way from Australia was at the Clubs. She didn't ask though and replied quietly. "For everything. For getting you stuck in jail at 2 in the morning and for your–well…"

"My face that looks like tenderized steak?" He joked, but it failed to bring any humor out of her as she continued to gawk at his injuries with guilt. "Trust me. Out of everyone, you're the last one who needs to be apologizing."

A look of incredulity spread across her tired face. "Have you seen yourself? None of this would have happened if it wasn't for me and I'm so goddamn sorry."

"You didn't start any of what happened. I wish I could give you credit for this number babe, but that goes to your boyfriend." He had a playful smirk on his face as he tried to make light of the situation. His valiant effort was admirable, but it was wasted on her. "Don't call me babe."

"What else am I supposed to call you?" He questioned softly. The tone in his voice took her by surprise with its comforting inflection. He didn't want to fight with her, and that attempt to not escalate and aggravate her any further wasn't something she was used to. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Her apology formed a frown that etched itself between his eyebrows and he leaned forward in his chair with his fingers laced together on the table in front of him. "You don't have to apologize, I understand that you're going through something right now. I'm Calum." He spoke so easily that it could put her mind at ease if she let it. Of course, she wouldn't.

"Reyna." She held her hand out to him and the small smile was brought back to his face as he shook it, holding her gaze warmly. They lingered for a moment, her pulling away first and clearing her throat awkwardly and looking back at her chipped nail polish from the 99 cent store. "Reyna, why were you at the club? You didn't seem like you wanted to be there."

The way his voice spoke her name made a warmth run through her body. "We go there every weekend so he can unwind." She answered easily. "Why did you follow us into the alleyway?"

It was a question she had been asking herself since it happened and it had her head reeling. "I saw you earlier in the night and you looked... uncomfortable. I looked over when his hand– and you pushed him off and left the table. The look in his eyes when he watched you leave and how he ran after you would've made any person worried."

It embarrassed her that he saw their entire exchange. A stranger watching her boyfriend force his hand up her skirt made her cheeks turn pink in mortification, even though she knew that wasn't the largest take-away from his explanation. "Any person wouldn't have followed us outside, though. Why did you involve yourself in something that didn't concern you?"

Calum inhaled deeply through his busted lips and straightened his back before replying easily. "I have a sister and a mother. The thought of a man treating them the way your boyfriend was treating you makes me feel sick to my stomach. You looked so scared, and no one could have stopped me from following you out that door to at least see if you were alright. And you weren't."

His admittance and his reasoning left her in awe. She swallowed thickly and looked at her lap, fiddling with the ring on her index finger. Her heart was beating a thousand beats per minute in her throat as she processed what he had said. This complete stranger cared about her wellbeing because he cared about people and that brought a feeling into her heart that she couldn't explain. It also brought tears to her eyes. "Fucking hell."

She covered her face with her hands as more tears grew in her eyes. In one word, the feeling she felt was overwhelmed. Exhaustion and worry made her mind chatter with 'what ifs' and she just desperately wanted everything to stop. She wanted to breathe, and Calum's admittance that her relationship was obviously toxic just by a few glances from across a dance floor made her tears fall harder. Not knowing why she always looked the other way when he would throw words like daggers at her, Reyna wanted him to change. The love she had for Aaron left her so vulnerable that standing up for herself against him wasn't an option. She wanted to stand with him, and if that meant against herself, then so be it.

The hand that was suddenly placed comfortingly on her shoulder startled her and she pried her eyes open to see the curly-haired boy standing over her. "Come here," he whispered softly and tugged her hand so she was standing before he wrapped his arms around her. Her muscles hardened under the foreign feeling of someone who wasn't her boyfriend embracing her, although it would have been foreign if it had been Aaron too.

It took what seemed like minutes for her to melt slightly under Calum's hold. He was relentless and his embrace that stayed around her until she accepted it made her heart wrench even more. It wasn't demanding in any way, only an affection that let her know that she could be vulnerable in front of him. Affection was something that she hadn't had in over a year. She had forgotten what it felt like to just be held, comforted in the way she desperately needed.

Her arms wound around his muscular back and she sobbed loudly into his chest. The tears that stained his shirt celebrated in waves that wracked her body. She never allowed herself to cry over the things that happened to her and Calum was forced to bear witness to the flood that finally broke free onto his dress shirt.

"I'm sorry." She sobbed again and her arms wrapped around him tighter. "I know you don't want me to apologize, but I have to because he won't. He's gotten violent before, but never that bad. Never to someone we didn't know."

His hands rubbed up and down her back rhythmically in an attempt to soothe her. It worked as she felt the goosebumps deflate under his warm fingers. "It's okay, Reyna. You're safe and you're going to get the justice you deserve."

Like a bucket of cold water was poured over her, his words instantly made her tense and she pulled away from him. The cold that hung in the air wrapped itself around her again as she looked up at him with wide eyes. "You can't press charges."

"What do you mean?" He was looking at her quizzically as if he genuinely couldn't comprehend what she had said. She knew it was confusing because it confused her. There was a part of her that wanted to get Aaron out of her life, but a much stronger part of her felt like she couldn't live without him. "You can't do that. Please. I need him, Calum."

"Listen, I know it's hard to be in a situation like this, but he can't just walk away from thi-" He didn't understand and he never would. That was okay with her because he didn't have to. He didn't need to try and make sense of the absurdity of it all, nor did he need to be some knight in shining armor that would pull her out of her mess. "You don't understand. I don't have a job and I can't get one quick enough to pay the bills. He's literally all I have, Calum. No one else."

Saying it out loud sounded insane to her. It wasn't lost on her that Aaron put her into this position. He constructed walls around her in the form of a cage that only he had a key to. He had her exactly where he wanted her, and she soon learned to find comfort in it. Over-dependency always irked her when she was younger and she found it ridiculous that people could be comfortable in entirely relying on their significant other. Aaron held a flame in his hand and she was scared of fire. He easily backed her into that corner and, before she could even realize it, her independence was stripped away. The thought of having it back terrified her. "Reyna…"

"No, Calum. I appreciate what you did for me and you'll never have any idea how grateful I am for it. I just need you– I'm begging you– to let this go." Salty tears rolled down her face and he peered down at her with the softest eyes she had ever seen. He wasn't pitying her and she could see that as he breathed out a sigh and bit his lower lip.

With his lower lip tucked in between his teeth, he looked away from her and ran his hand through his tangled black curls. She watched his back wearily, gauging his reaction as the muscles tensed against the fabric of his shirt. He paced back and forth, torturing her as she anticipated his reply. "I can't."

"What?" She breathed. When he turned to her the answer to her question was clear by the remorse in his chiseled and bruised features. He neared her and placed his arms on her shoulders. "I can't do that. I know that where he has you feels permanent, but he doesn't just get to walk away from what he did. I'm not just talking about what he did to me, mostly to you."

"He hasn't done anything to me!" She lied in denial. The disbelief that danced across Calum's face let her know that he saw right through the lie and that he didn't believe a word of it. "It's just the way he is. He gets angry sometimes and I just have to wait until he calms down."

"Reyna, him being that way just because he has always been is bullshit and you know that. I don't know you very well– at all actually– but when I saw you tonight in the bar I saw a girl who knew she deserved better." Her teary brown eyes looked into his that were filled with frustration and a fit of anger that, for the first time in years, she wasn't afraid of because it didn't feel directed at her. "That's why you didn't let him touch you the way he wanted."

It was true and even she, blind as can be, could see that. Aaron didn't give her the life he promised her when she was nineteen and stupid enough to believe that blindly following the boy she was certain was her soulmate was the only option that ended with her being happy. Happiness had once been Aaron. Any future with him in it was the one she wanted, but never did she account for what would happen if the Aaron she loved didn't exist anymore. He was a shell of a broken man, too far gone for her to help. She knew that in the back of her mind, somewhere hidden in the attic behind dusty boxes filled with her forgotten aspirations, memories with him that were good. They were good at one point.

That point was long gone, though. Any trace of the life she had envisioned with him was gone, but she couldn't accept it. Somewhere beneath all the rubble was the man she loved and she wanted to find him and pull him out, only failing to account for the fact that she only loved an idea and not an actual man. "Why didn't you fight back?"

The boy with curly hair, a cracked lip, a face coated in bruises, and a white shirt, that surprisingly had no blood on it, looked at her with comforting dark brown eyes. It overwhelmed her, how much light she saw in them. His hands that planted on her shoulders softly were warming and soothing. "I'm not a violent person to begin with and I wasn't going to do that in front of you."

He bit his lip and winced slightly as it stung his cut. The white light that washed over him made him look pale and she could see the bags under his eyes. It must have been nearing 4 in the morning by then and it was showing on his tired face. She was certain it was even more apparent in hers. His words made her heart pound in her chest with a sense of adoration that she ignored.

The metal door opened and scratched the floor loudly as Lori stepped through with the soft smile that never seemed to leave her face. Reyna watched her take in her and Calum, the space that situated itself between them was only slight and Calum's large hands were still situated on her small shoulders. "Mr. Deming has given his statement and you can see him now." Reyna nodded vigorously and sniffled, pressing the backs of her hands into her eyes to wipe the tears that had yet to fall. Looking at Calum, she smiled at him softly. "I'm sorry again, Calum. I really am."

-----

His hands sat on splayed on the cool metal table with cuffs still around his wrists. The skin that poked out from beneath the metal was red and rubbed raw from his relentless drunken struggling, the alcohol undoubtedly numbing him from the pain. The sunken green eyes that stared at her were a stranger's, but the face was still Aaron's and that gave her comfort. "Have you given your statement yet?"

The iciness that laced his voice chilled her heart and the erratic twitching he exhibited made her anxious. "Not yet. I'm set to give mine after Calum's."

"Calum?" He scoffed and looked away from her to glare at the wall. His eyes leaving her nervous frame allowed her to take a deep breath from the break of his cold gaze. "Is that the little pussy's name?"

She winced at his insult and stayed silent. Reyna knew that any reply she gave would be sadly insufficient to him. "What, are you guys best friends now? Are you gonna make him miserable too?"

His head turned to look at her and she looked at her hands before he could meet her gaze. Aaron's words stung her, but she knew what she was walking into when the metal door opened. Of course, he was going to be angry and would need to get it out. "You know I wouldn't-"

"Do I? From your behavior last night, it seems that I don't know you that well at all, doesn't it."

"I'm on your side, Aaron," Reyna spoke softly. She watched his jaw clench and unclench along with his fist before he released a sigh and flattened his palms on the table. His gaze softened like clockwork. "I know, baby. I'm just tired, and after you tell them that he started it we can go home."

He seemed sincere and genuine like he was capable of apologizing without actually uttering 'I'm sorry'. It seemed as though he hadn't thought it out though, as all of the evidence pointed toward him. Reyna would've believed him and she desperately wanted to, but she knew him. She knew that his tone softening and the use of the pet name that made her cringe was because of the police officers standing outside of the room and watching from the transparent side of the glass. "Aaron…"

When her voice trailed off softly he sighed and stood up. It surprised her when he came to her side of the table and fell to his knees in front of her, taking her face gently in his hands and looking deeply into her eyes. "I'll love you until the day I die, remember?"

It had been months since he touched her so tenderly and it had her heart pounding in her chest. His confession had her speechless and she stared at him, mulling his words over in her mind. His fingers were rough against her cheeks and she wanted to pull back, but she stayed where she was and stared at him. His gaze was soft but held a warning in them that she didn't miss. As he pulled her head down and placed his lips to her forehead, she gripped his wrist and closed her eyes as tears stung them. "I remember. I love you too. So fucking much."

Reyna's voice was but a whimper and when she opened her eyes and looked at him once again, he only held a look of victory. The initial softness was gone as if he couldn't be bothered to keep up the act. He always said that he would love her until the day he died and she believed him. Every fiber of her being believed him because of how much she loved him. She was anything but dishonest. Reyna wasn't dumb either. Only sadly in love with the shell of the boy in front of her, she knew that the Aaron she loved was already dead. That much was clear by the look in his eyes and the smirk on his face, the one that was so foreign she wouldn't have been able to recognize it out of a line-up

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