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#also apologies for responding to no comments in the last like month or longer i Will get there
joels-shitty-puns · 7 months
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The Key To Your Heart - Track 4
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader
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Gif by:@sh214
Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.
*! New warnings will be listed first !*
Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).
Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!
Word Count: ~2.3K
Series List: Here!
Miss last chapter? Here!
Hi there! To those of you who have read and are still with me, THANK YOU! I love you all. I'm sorry that my chapters are taking longer and longer. Work has been a bit more hectic lately and I also just had some serious writer's block with this chapter. That being said, it feels a little rough and I apologize if its awful lol. But either way, thanks for hanging in there with me and please let me know what you think! Your comments make me happy!
__________
You groaned, stepping out of bed and drifting towards the bathroom. Your face was sticky and your eyes stung from crying late into the night. It was silly, naive, and frankly stupid… but sometimes you can't control how hard emotions hit. Seeing that Pedro didn't actually watch your video was a let down - to put it mildly. Obviously he's a popular guy. A star. He has better things to do.
You should be grateful he even responded to your Instagram message before. Even though it hurts, surely he has more interesting things to do than message someone like you. Just because you wrote a song and he said he liked it doesn't mean he owes you anything more.
So after a fitful night's sleep, you were utterly exhausted; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Luckily, it was still your weekend and you could rest today. 
More like spend the day wallowing in your self pity… you think, disdainfully at yourself.
Looking in the mirror, you notice your puffy eyes. There's some new acne, and a mop of frizzy hair on your head. After using the toilet, you step on your bathroom scale before your shower; a morning routine you started during years of dieting. Another 3 pounds. Up again?!
You look in the mirror, pinching your stomach with a sigh. I guess I shouldn't have had those cookies yesterday…
The food guilt creeps up as you think of the goodies you've eaten recently. Cookies yesterday, fast food the day before. You were bitter that you weren't one of those people that could just magically eat whatever they wanted without gaining an ounce. 
But you aren't, and you should know better. 
Frustrated with your appearance, you begin your usual internal debate about how to fix it.
Maybe I should go back on the diet…
But the diet caused you so many problems. Remember the stomach issues? The hunger? The lack of joy? Binge eating on cheat days until you were sick?
But! I lost so much weight!
Yeah, until you started gaining weight…
Maybe I didn't cut enough. People said I looked so good. I was *almost* skinny.
Maybe people would like me more if I was skinny… Maybe Pedro would like me if I were skinny. There's no way he would be with me looking like this.
These were the debates that plagued you for months… years… a lifetime.
You showered, tears beginning to flow again as you tried to push out the thoughts. He was probably just busy, but either way you knew you didn't have a chance. 
Your friends were right. You were an obsessed fan. It was… concerning, as they said. They pitied you when you felt sad about your feelings. Just find someone you actually have a chance with, they pushed. Someone real.
But... he did message you. Maybe he didn't even know you had an interview yesterday? Maybe he watched it later. You were being utterly ridiculous. It didn't matter anyway.
But what you didn't know was that Pedro felt just as disappointed. He wanted to be the one on your list. The one you loved. He went to bed just as mopey as you did and woke up just the same.
_____
Having washed away your bad feelings as best as you could, you gave Skipper a kiss on his little forehead and made some coffee while scrolling Instagram. You were nervous to see what people had to say about your interview, but you had to face the music eventually.
As you could have predicted, people were running through the potential suspects (or prospects, that is) who have brown curly hair and brown eyes. Some supported you and loved your interview. Others criticized you for being too chicken to show yourself. 
You weren't used to this level of attention, and you really weren't sure you enjoyed it. But you were grateful to have your two lives kept separate, your true persona still shaded in privacy.
What you did not predict, was a notification popping up from Pedro, interrupting your scrolling. Forgetting to breathe, you immediately clicked on it. If the message were food from the oven, you would've burnt your hand the way you grabbed it so fast. 
Perhaps I should've been a little more chill about opening this so quickly... Oh well.
Pedro Pascal messaged you: "Hey! I watched your interview yesterday. You did fantastic. I know fame is new to you and you're nervous, but you're a natural."
Your heart swelled. He did watch it!! He must have just been busy during the live stream.
You replied: "Pedro! You watched it!?! Thank you so much. That really means a lot to me."
Pedro read your message immediately, but instead of sharing in your level of excitement, he was hit with a wave of confusion instead. She must just be trying to not hurt my feelings. She already knows I watched it.. unless she didn't even notice my name. Or she didn't care enough to look for it…?
He decided to play along with it anyway. "Absolutely, I did. I've had it marked on my calendar since the day it was announced a couple days ago and watched it as it was streamed live."
His response took you by surprise, and then made you angry. If he really watched it, he would know that they gave you a list of the people who watched it live. Why was he lying to you about it?
You started to plan out your response, maybe even send an accusatory comeback, but then you thought about it again.
Why would he lie about it? What would he gain by lying? He messaged you.
With this in mind, you instead chose to take a different approach. One better designed for fishing. One you had to be very careful about, so as not to reveal the fact that you looked for his name.
"Wait!? You watched it live? I didn't see you on the list. You're one of the few people I've spoken to who actually seem genuinely friendly and interested in having a conversation with me. I had sort of hoped you were listening."
There. That doesn't sound too revealing, right? Totally friendly…
Pedro opened your message and was met with both confusion, and something else he wasn't expecting. Hope. Did you look for his name??
Still, he wanted to address the confusion. "You didn't see me on the list? That's odd.. but I'm sure there were a lot of names to scan through. Maybe my name was just buried in that list."
You knew it wasn't buried. He was the only name you looked for. The only name you cared about seeing on that list, not that you'd admit that to him right now. But you also didn't want him to feel that insignificant either.
"There were a lot of names, I'll give you that. But I swear you weren't there. Were you logged into your account? Maybe your Internet crashed, or you missed part of it?"
Instantly he remembered the ten or so minutes that Oscar interrupted him. 
Oscar!
"Oh shit! That's it. Oscar barged into my house while I was watching it and I slammed my laptop closed."
"Oscar… Isaac? Wait, why did you slam your laptop closed?"
"Yeah, that's the one. And… I don't know. He just surprised me, I guess. It wasn't a planned visit."
Slamming your laptop closed is an odd reaction to your friend visiting, but okay, you thought.
"So you closed your laptop, and missed a few minutes. And that must have been the moment they pulled the list of viewers."
Pedro replied. "It must have. But I was there, more than happy to listen to what you had to say"
If my name had been on the list, would her answer have been different? When asked whether the man she loved was on the list and she said no, would my name have changed anything? Pedro wanted to ask you these questions. But he couldn't. Not only was he scared, but he also didn't want it to come off as some douchey comment that made you uncomfortable. He wanted to get to know you better, even if just as a friend, and he wouldn't let a silly little crush ruin that.
You sent a response that could be deemed as friendly or neutral, still cautious. "Thank you Pedro. I'm really glad you watched it."
He replied without hesitancy. "Of course. But, I am sorry that your guy wasn't on that list."
He sounds genuine. Not like he's fishing for information like everyone else on the internet. In turn, you decide to be playful with your response. Risky, but still not too revealing. "It's okay. It turns out that list wasn't as accurate as I once thought it was" you typed with a smirk.
"So maybe he was watching after all," Pedro answered.
"Maybe he was."
Pedro soon changed the subject, "I did enjoy hearing about your favorite things, though. You may know this already, but I love movies. Some of the ones you mentioned are a couple of my favorites as well. But as for your favorite books, I haven't read them, but I've been meaning to find a new book to read."
The fact that he was a reader made your heart flutter; the thought of him sitting with a book, his glasses perched on his nose, brow furrowed as he stroked his thumb over his lip in deep concentration. You were overjoyed at the thought of him reading *your* favorite book and potentially having someone to talk to about it. Before you knew it, you had frantically sent multiple excited messages.
You: "Oh! If you read any of my favorite books we HAVE to talk about them!"
Second message: "AGH the first book I mentioned is my favorite, out of all of them. The ending blew my mind. And the characters were just so amazing! Well except for that one guy.. but I won't spoil that…"
Third message: "But my favorite character has the greatest lines!!! Sometimes I like to quote it but nobody else gets it. And the way the author describes the settings is so magical, it makes you want to be there."
Pedro caught himself smiling at his phone, wrapped up in your excitement, as you were finally able to talk to someone about your favorite book. It was adorable how happy you seemed.
He started to type a reply when you sent another message. "Shoot… I'm sorry. I got a little too carried away…"
"Who told you that?"
Huh?
"Who told me what?" You asked.
"Who made you feel like you had to stop talking when you became excited about your interests?"
His question took you aback, but your mind struggled to pinpoint the answer to it. There's been so many people that have told you that over the years. People you assumed were friends. An old crush who didn't like multiple text messages at once. Classmates who would complain or make fun. It was routine.
"Oh. It's not a big deal. It's just something I've heard over the years. But I also know how I get and I don't want to be too much. I'm sorry. I don't want to monopolize the conversation too much either. But hey, you didn't mention, what are your favorite books?" You tried to change the topic.
Pedro felt that protective feeling bubble up in his chest again.
"Over the years!? There have been multiple occasions?" Pedro shook his head, even though you couldn't see through the text. "I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel that way or said anything to imply that your interests weren't worthy of being heard. Fuck them. They should be thankful that you shared your interests."
They should be grateful to hear your beautiful voice get so excited. To get to see your excitement and smile, Pedro thought to himself angrily. He hoped he could someday witness you getting excited over your interests in person too.
"Thank you Pedro. But really, it's okay. I know I get a little… obsessive and crazy, especially with sending multiple texts, so I don't blame them. Haha. :)" you tried to soften the mood.
"I don't want you to ever feel that way with me. I liked hearing you talk about your interests."
You began to type, but Pedro beat you to the punch.
"In fact… if you'd like to talk more," he gave you his phone number. "Feel free to text me, or you can call me too. I like talking on the phone, but I know not everyone does."
Holy shit. Is this real life? Did Pedro Pascal just give me his phone number? And ask me to call him?
Truthfully, your introverted self really didn't like talking on the phone. But the idea of talking to Pedro, hearing his voice on the other end of your phone was too much to handle.
What you didn't realize, was that Pedro wanted it just as bad.
Your fingers danced over your phone keyboard, trying to find the right words for a reply. What do you say when the love of your life (that you didn't think you would ever have a chance with) gives you his phone number?
Pedro watched anxiously as the three dot-dot-dots of typing appeared and disappeared over and over. His heart was racing, and he began to worry he may have overstepped this time. 
Why did you give her your number? She's going to think you like her!!! 
But you do like her, you idiot, Pedro berated himself.
He ran his hand down his face, waiting for your response in agonizing suspense. But instead of hearing the pop of a notification, his phone began to ring instead, an unknown number displayed on the home screen.
Wait… is that her? Is she CALLING me?!
He answered frantically, practically dropping his phone in the process. 
"Hello?"
"Hello? Pedro? It's me.."
You heard him give a breathless laugh before answering with a gentle "Hi."
_____
Thank you for reading!! Let me know your thoughts :) More will be coming soon. I know this is a painfully slow burn lol. Thanks for being patient.
Next chapter! Here
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Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)
@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibley84 @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon
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starker-raving-mads · 2 months
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For You: Part III
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX
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It was two months since the day Peter Parker's life changed for the second - third - fourth time.
He'd gotten more sleep over the last month than he had in the previous two months. It was partly due to sheer, never-ending exhaustion. His life since taking on the mantle as 'the new Tony Stark' - a title he balked at, mind you - had become pure chaos. At first, it was a relief. The instantaneous knowledge that money was no longer a problem. May could quit her job and devote her time to FEAST, he could complete his honors-GED (which many of the Blipped teenagers had chosen to do) and immediately hop into online college courses at Columbia with Ned and MJ.
Immediately following that relief, though, was his face splashed across every newspaper, tabloid, blog, and TikTok page in America.
He would never say it, and he couldn't prove it, but he was 99% sure it was Pepper's doing. After her initial outburst at the lawyer's offices, he'd hardly heard from her. His lawyers - god, his lawyers - had advised that he shouldn't respond to any comments on the subject of Pepper Potts being snubbed by her husband for Peter's heir status. While she had no legal leg to stand on since Tony's will was air tight and definite, that didn't stop her from digging her claws into all the ways she knew would hurt him.
Every time he saw something outrageous with his face on it on an article somewhere, he had to remind himself that she was grieving and in pain about a perceived betrayal by her husband. Her husband, who was Tony Stark, who did not belong to him.
No matter that the man had figured out time travel for him, had risked the universe, had given him billions of dollars and the most coveted job in the entire world. Tony only gave him this because there wasn't anyone else better that he trusted, but Peter knew that didn't mean he was Tony's true first choice, and he had to squash every niggling feeling and whisper of a thought that said he was. It would only make it hurt more when all he wanted was the pain to stop.
He'd finally found a moment, though, where things weren't quite as bad. He'd recently reconvened with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Rhodey and they had a steady if not solid pact. They were all unsure of the situation, still, and Peter didn't blame them. He'd been…questioned, more politely than Pepper had done, on how he and Tony's relationship had unfolded.
When he'd explained that he was 14 when he met Mr. Stark, Steve and Bucky both winced, apologizing for the disaster that was Germany but Peter shrugged it off. He really hadn't been hurt and it was a foundational moment for his and Mr. Stark's relationship. He couldn't bring himself to regret it.
After that, they'd had a few meals together, talked more about his life - and theirs, to an extent, though he was far more privy to them than they had been of him.
"He never mentioned you," Steve said, shaking his head, baffled. He held a cool beer in his hand, leaning back from the patio table they had gathered around at the newly rebuilt SHIELD headquarters in upper state New York.
"Oh he mentioned Pete to me all right," Rhodey disagreed before reaching over and ruffling his curls lightly. Peter liked Rhodey, liked how hands-on he was, how relaxed but also somehow by the book, liked his humor. He could see how he and Tony had been such good friends. "But he'd only told me about his 'brilliant new intern'," they all chuckled. "He really kept the whole Spider-Man thing close to the chest."
"I'd asked him to," Peter admitted, peeling the wrapper off of his bottle of lemonade. "First because I was still like so young, yo know? And then later, after a few - pretty major - mistakes I made, I guess he thought I'd proved I was finally ready to be an Avenger."
"Well I never heard Tony trying to recruit anyone," Rhodey commented and they all looked at him quizzically.
Peter let out a single huffed laugh. "Yeah, uh," he tried to keep down the blush rising on his neck. "You remember the day that Mr. Stark proposed to Ms. Potts?" Rhodey and Sam both laughed long and hard.
"Even over in Wakanda we saw that," Sam chuckled. "It was the Tony Stark special - a huge thing wrapped in a tiny, chaotic package. Not unlike yourself," he raised his eyebrows at Peter, who flicked his bottle wrapper at him.
"Pepper had no idea it was coming," Rhodey agreed before taking a long drink of his own beer.
"Yeah, well I don't think Mr. Stark had really…planned it," he grimaced. At their faces, he continued. "He'd taken me up to Stark Tower and gave me this speech about having graduated to the 'big leagues' after my last big wrap up," he shrugged. "He gave me the Iron Spider suit and said I was ready to be an Avenger." He frowned, rubbing at the glue and paper residue on his bottle. "And I told him that I just wasn't ready yet. That I needed to stay in Queens for a while more, be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Help the little guy, you know?" He raised earnest eyes up to the group and they all nodded, slowly. "So I asked him to just keep helping my identity to stay quiet," he shrugged.
"So, then what happened?" Bucky asked, long hair tilting with the rest of his head in curiosity. He didn't speak up often, but when he did, it was always because of something he really wanted to know.
"The next thing I knew I was being ushered downstairs to wait at the car for Happy," he shrugged. "I pulled out my phone and there on live broadcast Mr. Stark was proposing to Ms. Potts at a press conference." He chuckled. "It was - really, really weird."
He expected everyone else to laugh with him, but he was met with contemplative silence. He looked around at each of them before Rhodey finally met his gaze. "What?"
"I think," the older man said slowly, "that press conference was meant to be for your reveal as Spider-Man."
"No way - I mean," he shook his head as the rest of the guys started nodding their heads, agreeing thoughtfully. "He wouldn't propose to her just because - just because I said no to - "
" - to his proposal," Bucky finished.
It was another revelation that Peter could hardly bear the weight of. These things kept stacking and he wasn't sure how to balance all this knowledge he had, about the things Tony had done - and undone - for him. This one, though…this new information didn't hurt, not like the others did.
It actually made a strange amount of sense. At once, it both stung to feel like he was replaced with Ms. Potts so immediately, but also it was like the first fresh breath after being buried underground for so long to know that Peter's answer that day was so important to him that the only thing he could possibly trade it out for in equivalency was getting engaged.
Did this mean that if Peter had said yes Mr. Stark wouldn't have gotten married? It made his head spin, but it also made his heart lighter than it had been in weeks.
Light enough to finally enter the last bastion of refuge that Tony Stark ever took comfort in.
His lab.
Despite being uninhabited for who knew how long, when the familiar glass doors slid open the air wasn't musty, stale, or any such thing. It was as fresh and crisp as it ever was. Off in the corner the long L shaped couch that he and Mr. Stark had often collapsed into opposite ends of, exhausted, lay half-made with fluffy pillows. The coffee pot was empty but clean, and every other available surface covered in notes either figuratively, having been decorated with papers scribbled on with hundreds of lines of equations and code, or literally, like the side of Peter's work station, where he'd dropped to a crouch to finish writing something out when he ran out of paper, mid-idea. He knew he could've just kept writing mid-air thanks to the lab's complete holographic setup, but it wasn't the same as having something solid under your hands.
There was pain in the familiarity of the lab but there was also a feeling of home he hadn't quite gotten the first time he stepped back into his and May's apartment. Plus -
"Hello, Peter."
"Friday!" He exclaimed, smile breaking wide across his face. With a pang, he didn't realize just how much he'd missed the AI until this moment.
"Yes, Peter?" the AI asked, voice warm and if he dared to think it, amused.
"Nothing, nothing, I'm just excited to see you again," he chuckled, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He started walking around the lab, taking it all in for the first time in what, to him, had been months. The longer he thought about that the more his brow furrowed. "Hey Friday?"
"Yes, Peter? Or would you like me to call you Boss as Tony had?"
"Oh! Um," he shook his head. "No, no Peter's fine, or whatever."
She hummed. "Would it be all right if I picked a name for you, Peter? Being able to distinguish between Boss and Others by a more specific title helps me with my internal hierarchy and understanding of individuals. If you would prefer I do not, though, merely say such."
"I mean if it helps you then, yeah, sure I guess."
"Thank you, Mini Boss," she said. He laughed again.
"You might wanna work on that," he smiled wide.
"Yes, I think it might take me some time, Father."
His eyes widened. "Father?"
"Hm, you're right," she said. "Boss was more like my Father, I suppose."
"Uh, yeah, definitely," Peter nodded. He gave her a beat to let her figure out what she wanted to call him as he walked over to his desk. He'd let her go through her process before he started asking the questions that sat burning in his mind.
"Would you be opposed to me calling you Mother, Peter?" Friday asked. He spun in his chair, smile wide again.
"If Tony was your Father, wouldn't he also be your Mother?" he asked, amused. "You know, having done 100% of your coding, and all."
"If one were to look at my original codebase as the only part of what makes me, me," she agreed. "However, would you not say that those that raise you are more worthy of such a title rather than just those that created you?"
He immediately thought to May and how, if he'd been younger when he came to her, he'd be calling her by that name.
"That's true enough, sure."
"And outside of Boss," she went on, "you are the individual most involved in my growth. So it stands to reason that if Boss is Father, then Peter is Mother."
"I - " he really didn't know what to say to that. It had never occurred to him that outside of Mr. Stark he was the one who interacted with Friday the most.
"If you would prefer I find a name not so closely connotated with females," she continued, "I can endeavor to do so."
"No, no, it's fine, Friday," he replied, quiet and in his head again. "You can - can call me Mother if you want." A not-so-small part of him felt absolutely, transparently happy that Friday considered him her parent. More than Mr. Stark leaving him the company, more than having all this financial security and ability to mess around with Tony Stark's labs, more than all of that - this meant something profound to him.
"I also thought," she said and that amusement was hinted at in her lilting Irish, "that it would be a nice subversive reference to the spacecraft from Alien."
He laughed out loud at that. "I love that movie, that's perfect."
He could feel her smile, then. "I know you do, Mother."
He slumped onto the stool at his table in the lab and finally asked his question. "Friday, can you tell me - why isn't the lab more different?"
"Different how?"
"Well it's just," he struggled to articulate the sentence, the feeling he was pulling at. "I was - gone - for five years. But it almost looks like this place never really changed?"
"I see," she said. "Boss spent a lot of time here after the Blip first happened, once he was home from Titan. He slept primarily on the couch in the corner and had me refill his coffee orders more than anything else. However, he never touched your things, Mother."
Peter frowned. "Why?"
"I could not say," she replied, tone ponderous. "Based on his patterns of movement, he seemed to specifically avoid your work areas. Though he did take a jacket you had left at her table to the couch. From my archival footage, he seemed to sleep with it, perhaps for warmth?"
It occurred to the teen, then, that Friday probably had thousands and thousands of hours of Tony on video and he could pull it to watch them at any time. The feeling of want was a fever in his blood and he asked, "Can you show me?"
"Of course, Mother."
Faint blue light lit up the couch and Peter walked over to it, seeing that more than merely just show him the video, she played it out in holographic projection. His breath hitched as Tony walked into view, Peter's hoodie in clutched in his hands. Staring down at it, he slumped onto the couch and brought the fabric to his face. Less breathing it in and more suffocating himself with it.
"I'm sorry," he heard muffled through Friday's speakers. "I'm so sorry, Pete."
Tony then curled up onto the couch on his side, face pressed to the hoodie, back toward the room. The projection cut off.
Peter didn't realize that he was crying until Friday asked, "Mother, are you okay?"
"I - " he tried to say, throat clogged with tears. "No," he admitted, jacket-covered wrist swiping away at his tears. He sniffled and sat where Tony had, finding his hoodie wedged between the cushions and the back of the couch. He pulled it out and, like Tony, smashed it to his face, breathing in the faintly lingering spicy scent of Tony Stark.
"I'm sorry, Mother," Friday said, speakers low, tone regretful. "I did not mean to cause you pain."
"You didn't, sweetheart," he shook his head, voice still clogged with tears. "I'm just sad."
"Why?" she asked, her natural curiosity shining through. Much like a child, she did not always know when it wasn't the right time to ask questions. But Peter had always liked indulging her and feeding her curiosity. The first few lab sessions they played 20 Questions back and forth until Tony would tell them both to shut up, though the amusement when he said it always shone through.
"I'm sad because Tony's dea - " he cleared his throat. "Because Tony - "
"It is okay, Mother," Friday cut him off. "I understand."
At that, he let himself fall back into the couch like Tony had. Above him, Friday dimmed the lights and stayed quiet, letting him cry out his grief in silence.
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weirdkpopgirl · 10 months
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Stronger Together | Haechan Fic #2
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Title: Stronger Together
Genre: College AU, exes to lovers (sort of)
Warnings: mentions of mental health issues like anxiety and self-harm, bullying. the story gets very emotional
Word Count: 14k
Author's Note: Omg I've been working on this story for way too long. This has been on the backburner of my drive for months. And somebody sent a request, asking me to write something with Haechan where the reader has a hard time being vulnerable with him. So I thought I might as well finish this story since it fits that request? I apologize for how long and cliché it is. I was also heavily influenced by the k-dramas that take place in universities lol. Thank you guys for reading and I really hope you like it ^^
─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─
~ prologue ~
Everything felt like some tragic scene from a romance movie gone wrong. One that left the audience holding their breaths, afraid of what the character’s next move would be. Meeting at a café, the one close to your university. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the air. The dimmed ambiance, as it was no longer daytime. Soft music playing in the background. Then there was you two in the corner of the room. The warm drinks set atop the wooden table remained untouched. The carefree smiles faded gradually.
At last, the silence was broken. When you met his eyes, all the courage you mustered up dispersed. Then the words you never thought you’d hear yourself say fell from your lips.
“Let’s break up.”
The sun receded behind the somber, gray clouds as the storm took hold, leaving behind the absence of the once cherished feelings of warmth and radiance.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
~ chapter one ~
“Yeonsung University’s Hae-Dal Couple Seen Sharing a Cute Moment Before Class,” Jaemin read aloud to the group.
You held back a grimace when you scrolled through the snapshots, most likely taken behind the school bushes. One of Donghyuck gently removing an eyelash off your cheek. One of you smiling fondly at him. One of him giving you an innocent kiss on the forehead. What began as a quiet exchange with your boyfriend had turned into morning gossip eagerly devoured by the students of Yeonsung.
“We look cute don’t we?” Donghyuck proudly swung an arm around your shoulders. Unlike you, he wasn’t bothered by the post at all. 
You shrugged in response. “I guess.”
Maybe you were just being sensitive. At the start of university, you had a lot of goals. Study hard, get good grades, and find a nice internship. Love and leisure? Those were not on the list. Yet somehow Lee Donghyuck, one of the most popular freshmen, just had to pursue you out of all the other girls who fawned over him.
A little over half a year has passed since you agreed to be his girlfriend—after numerous rejections, and you still haven’t adapted to your elevated social status. The way everyone stopped to look in awe at the two of you when walking by. How there always seemed to be someone with a phone to capture a single moment of your day and post it to the UniYeon, your college’s community site. The endless stream of comments praising you both as the epitome of couple goals and being jealous over your relationship with the one and only Lee Donghyuck was unrelenting.
Maybe you were crazy for disliking the attention, even though it wasn’t necessarily bad. Being a campus couple—with Lee Donghyuck much less, meant taking all the pressure that came with it. Your boyfriend seemed to have no problem ignoring what everyone else thought. So why was it so hard for you?
“Hey, guys!” Your best friend, Ahryun, snapped you out of your thoughts. “There’s this new fried chicken place that opened nearby. We should check it out. I heard there’s a special discount for university students there.”
Your lips parted, hesitant to respond, as a sense of wariness washed over you. Fortunately, Donghyuck spoke up, saving you both from the need to answer.
“Can’t. (Y/n) and I have a date for our 200-day anniversary,” He said proudly. You couldn’t help but smile when he turned to you with such loving eyes.
Although it felt like the whole university was watching your relationship like it was a reality show, you could handle the inconvenience. The love you had for Donghyuck allowed any wary thoughts to temporarily shift to the back of your mind. 
You never pictured yourself dating someone like him, honestly. To say the least, you and he were quite the opposite of each other. He was a social butterfly, who made everyone around him laugh. You were the more reserved type, sticking with small groups of friends, and hiding your face behind the thin rose-gold glasses you always wore. Donghyuck often left you wondering what made him like you in the first place.
The anticipation in Ahryun’s eyes dissolved into disappointment. ��Ah, I see. What about you, Jaemin?”
“Sorry, I can’t either. It’s my turn to cook for Jeno and me,” Jaemin replied, rolling his eyes at the mention of his best friend. He peered up from his phone and shifted his attention to the group. “Also, it’s been 200 days already? Time flies.”
You and Donghyuck nodded in agreement. The dark-haired boy leaned back in his seat with a nostalgic look. “Ah, it felt like yesterday when Donghyuck followed (Y/n) around like some lost puppy.” 
Ahryun set her chin on the palm of her hand. “How did you handle him, (Y/n)-ah?”
“He just grew on me, I guess,” You shrugged, turning to look at the boy who gave unamused looks to the two people sitting across from you.
You reached your hand out to gently pet his head. “And it turned out he was very sweet and cute.”
Cliché words like this were rare from you. But seeing the pleased smile on Donghyuck’s face was sort of worth the minor embarrassment.
“See? (Y/n) loves me, thank you very much.” He childishly stuck his tongue out at your friends, earning a head shake from them. He stood up and offered his hand so you could walk out together.
 “Now if you excuse us, we have a reservation to prepare for.”
▃▃▃
Despite being seated not long ago, the fluttery feeling in your stomach had yet to leave you. Since you had planned your 100-Day anniversary date, Donghyuck took responsibility for this one. That’s how you find yourself at a classy Italian restaurant. When looking at the other tables, you felt underdressed in your powder blue dress that was quite plain.
“How did you find this place?” You asked conscientiously.
A part of you wanted to ask if you guys could afford this place, considering you were broke college students. But you didn’t want to cause any tension when his effort into planning this special day was clear.
He casually glanced up from the menu in his hands. For a moment you forgot you were also holding one. “I just came across it, when I was searching for restaurants we should try someday. This one has the rose pasta you like.”
“Oh, really?”
Finally, your eyes dropped down to your own menu. The slight nervousness you had began to fade as a small smile stretched across your lips.
You loved witnessing the rare moments where your boyfriend’s subtle consideration peeked through. He often pretended not to pay attention when you talked about a food you liked or an activity you’ve always wanted to try. But in reality, he secretly saved those small details in his pocket for future surprises. Honestly, you were lucky to be one of the few people to see this side of Donghyuck.
Once you adjusted to the new setting, dinner with Donghyuck was quite delightful. Dates with him often started with feelings of nervousness and hesitation. But Donghyuck’s humor and charm always managed to melt away your anxiety. It was in those times when you allowed yourself to relax and enjoy the present moment.
During the date, the topic of conversation mainly revolved around school. Since his major was music production and yours was creative writing, your schedules didn’t align. Some may hate the distance throughout the day, but you and Donghyuck truly didn’t mind.
Though the boy occasionally complained about how he missed you, having something to talk about when you were together was nice. You loved listening to him share his experiences, and learn about the classes he was taking. Donghyuck always had the most amusing stories about something that happened to him or one of his friends.
The bright blue sky disappeared as the evening settled in, just as your dinner came to a close. You may or may not have reprimanded Donghyuck when he went to the “bathroom,” but instead paid for the meal at the counter. 
“We could’ve split the check.” You crossed your arms in disapproval.
Knowing how stubborn your boyfriend could be, chastising him was futile. Yet you still did it. Which caused you to insist, “At least let me pay for drinks later.”
“Deal,” The boy agreed. “But before we go, I have a little something for you.”
Unsure of what to expect, you eyed him curiously as he reached into his jacket pocket. He brought out a cream-colored box and pushed the small item toward you.
“Open it.” 
Hesitantly, you took the box in with one hand and opened it with the other. The slightly smug smile on his face changed to one of satisfaction when you gasped.
Inside the box revealed a necklace and not just any necklace—one with a sterling silver chain, and a crescent moon pendant made of white gold. Instantly, you recognized the gift as a reference to your couple name, Hae-Dal. That was what your fellow peers started calling the two of you at the beginning of your relationship. This given title was probably the only thing you honestly didn’t hate about being a campus couple.
Hae was a word for sun, and dal meant moon. Donghyuck was the sun because of his bright and extroverted nature. On the other hand, the moon represented your cold and pessimistic demeanor. Despite your contrasting personalities, the balance between you two was nothing short of marvelous.
“Hyuck, you shouldn’t have…”
Leaning back in his seat, the grin on his face didn’t leave. “I know. I’m amazing aren’t I?”
His teasing response was out of instinct. However, it was also his way of covering up the warm sensation that filled his heart when you called him by his nickname. You were the only person who did.
“It’s perfect. Thank you, really,” You breathed, allowing yourself to smile at him.
Before you guys parted ways for the night, Donghyuck didn’t let you leave without helping you put on the necklace. You couldn’t control the blush on your cheeks when his fingers grazed your neck as he connected the clasp. Especially when he used his other hand to cup the side of your face to bring you closer to him. His lips connected to yours in one of the most tender kisses he’s ever given. The exchange left you feeling as though time had stopped and nothing else in the world mattered.
“I love you, (Y/n). Let’s stay together forever.” His tone was lighthearted. However, the intensity of his gaze and the unmistakable spark in his eyes revealed just how deeply committed he was.
Agreeing wholeheartedly, you gently pressed your forehead against his and whispered. “Yes, let’s do that.”
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~ chapter two ~
For once, all of the negative thoughts in your mind quieted down. Despite having to wake up early for class, you felt more cheerful than usual. Even Ahryun noticed you had more energy today. The two of you met up in the library to do some homework.
“Okay, you’ve been acting like some lovestruck teenager all morning.” She gave you a weird look. “All because of Lee Donghyuck?”
You glanced up from the notes you were taking and smiled sheepishly. “Is it that obvious?”
Ahryun nodded and gestured to your neck. “Very. Did he give you that necklace?”
Almost instinctively, your hand reached to hold the pendant. You hadn’t taken it off since last night. Which was outstanding, considering you rarely wore jewelry.
“Wah, Donghyuck must really like you,” Ahryun smiled. “I wish I had a boyfriend to buy me expensive gifts.”
You shook your head. “That’s not why I like him though. The more I get to know Donghyuck, the more I see what a thoughtful person he is.”
Ahryun’s eyes widened with interest.  “Tell me more about him.”
Out of habit, you folded your arms self-consciously when she leaned forward on the table. Maybe your lack of experience in relationships was the reason it felt so weird to talk about, now that you were actually in one. Back in high school, Ahryun was the one who’d be going on and on about her past boyfriends. You were pretty sure all the boys in your grade crushed on her at least once.
A part of you used to envy her. Ahryun had the type of beauty that didn’t require much effort. She always had the best features, the best fashion sense, and the best social skills. Once you started university, you thought Ahryun would end up being one of those campus couples. So even now, you were still surprised how things were the other way around.
“We’ve been dating for almost seven months now. But it feels like he and I have known each other forever,” You spoke honestly, twirling a pencil in your left hand. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but I’m ready to open up to Donghyuck about…you know.”
The intrigued expression on Ahryun’s face disappeared. “Oh (Y/n), are you still…?”
A part of you wanted to hide under the table when her eyes darted to your right arm. Despite it being fully concealed by your white sweater, you instinctively pulled the sleeve down further out of paranoia. Almost no one knew about the dark secret that hid beneath the fabric.
Ahryun was the only person at the university who knew about your history of mental illness. Due to the toxic environment, you grew up in, you’ve always been an anxious child. As you matured, you constantly doubted yourself, convinced that you were merely fabricating everything within your own mind. It wasn’t until high school that those insecurities sought to completely destroy you.
The present you still hated yourself. But back then, the self-hatred stored inside of you was immense. Eventually, a box cutter came into your possession. Tenth grade was the beginning of your long, messy history with self-harm. Things got so bad in the last year of high school that you recklessly ran into a busy street. You could still hear the sound of the car horns blaring.
Unfortunately, your attempt to end your life failed. Your actions led to an unwelcome reputation that spread like wildfire through the entire school. You became labeled as the "crazy suicide girl," attracting gawking students in the hallways and the judgmental gazes of teachers. Amidst this turmoil, Ahryun remained steadfast as your true friend, standing unwaveringly by your side, providing much-needed support throughout it all.
After going through that trauma, you knew that anxiety would be a lifelong battle for you. But since starting university, you were in a far better place than you were at seventeen years old.
“I haven’t done it since I met Donghyuck,” You answered honestly. “But I still think he deserves to know, don’t you think?”
Ahryun leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, pondering on how to respond.
“To be honest, I don’t think telling him is a good idea.”
Confusion crossed your eyes. “Why?”
“Most guys leave their girlfriends right away when they find out they’re…mentally ill,” Ahryun slowly explained. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Donghyuck walked out on you right after you told him.”
The small bubble of optimism in you burst. You have heard stories in relation to what Ahryun was talking about. 
“But not all men are like that, right? Donghyuck isn’t the type to--”
Ahryun cut you off quickly and exhaled in frustration. “Seven months might seem long because this is your first relationship, (Y/n). Donghyuck might not get angry now if you tell him about your anxiety. But he’ll eventually get tired of helping you, and leave. Do you want that?”
No, that was the last thing you wanted. Ahryun was right. Your relationship with Donghyuck was the longest you’ve experienced, but it was also the only one. Though you knew him well now, there was no way of knowing what he might be like in the coming years. 
“Besides, Donghyuck is a busy person,” Ahryun continued. “He has to balance his studies with all the clubs he’s in, and his internship. Telling him his girlfriend has anxiety would just add more stress to his life.”
Your friend’s words left a sting in your heart. But you found yourself agreeing with her. You knew—possibly better than anyone, how much he had on his plate lately. On top of all that, he managed to make time for you too. Maybe you were being too selfish.
“Yeah…I don’t know what I was thinking.” You brushed the conversation off. “Just forget I said anything.”
When you defeatedly went back to taking notes, you missed the satisfied smirk on your best friend’s face.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
~ chapter three ~
Even though a few days had passed, that conversation with Ahryun kept replaying in your head. You felt like an ongoing battle was being fought internally. Your heart wanted to open up to Donghyuck. But your brain kept reminding you of Ahryun’s warnings. You hated yourself for overthinking things like this.
Your distraction left you a little dazed, and you found yourself zoning out throughout the day. In chemistry class, you made a conscious effort to push those bothersome thoughts aside. You listened attentively when the senior TA, Jaehyun explained today's lab procedures at the start of class.
Fortunately, you had Huang Renjun as your lab partner. He appeared to know what he was doing, a lot better than you did. At the beginning of the semester, the two of you were both a little shy and kept to yourselves. It wasn’t until you met him outside of class that you became more acquainted with the male. Coincidentally, Renjun turned out to be your boyfriend’s roommate and good friend. So the two of you naturally became closer after discovering this mutual connection.
“I think we’re almost finished.” Renjun’s gentle voice stole your attention away from the data table in front of you.
You tried to hold your pen steadily, watching him carefully mix the measured solutions into one beaker. Once he did, you quickly wrote down your observations in a lab journal. Thanks to Renjun, your experiment for the day ran pretty smoothly.
It wasn’t until after completing the lab that something went wrong. While Renjun was washing his hands, you took it upon yourself to return the supplies you guys used. The class was bustling around, cleaning up their stations. You gripped the slightly heavy tray in your hands tightly, trying to not let the crowded environment overwhelm you. 
Jaehyun, looking to offer some assistance, came up from behind you. “Do you need help (Y/n)—”
You jumped at the sudden sound of the TA’s deep voice, and the tray in your hands dropped onto the floor with a clang, shattering a beaker in the process. A not-so-nice word immediately shot into your mind thereafter. You could already feel the stares of other students and tried to ignore them. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” Jaehyun quickly apologized, seeming just as alarmed as you were. 
You shook your head with a faint smile, and instinctively bent down to clean up the broken pieces of glass. “N-no it’s my fault, Sunbae. I should’ve been more careful.”
Jaehyun took a step back when Renjun rushed to your side with an apprehensive expression.
“Wait (Y/n), don’t use your bare hands to clean that. You’re going to hurt yourself,” Renjun said, reaching his hand out to stop you.
It was only after you registered his warning that you caught sight of crimson spots on your lab coat. You glanced down to see the palm of her hand bleeding profusely from a small cut. The previous shard of the glass must’ve been sharper than you anticipated.
Renjun cursed when he saw. “Oh no, that looks bad.”
Your brain went into panic mode when he took your hand to examine it. In doing so, your sleeve was accidentally pushed up, revealing several faded pink lines just below your wrist. Immediately, you tried to pull your arm away. But the look of dismay in Renjun’s eyes told you it was too late.
Before you could say anything, Renjun’s hand delicately enclosed around your wrist so that no one else would see what he saw. He cleared his throat and turned to Jaehyun.
“Sunbae, is it okay if I take (Y/n) to the nurse’s office?”
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered between you and Renjun, then gave a brisk nod. “Yes, take her. Make sure (Y/n)’s hand is properly cleaned and bandaged.”
“Don’t worry Sunbae, I’ll take care of her.” Renjun bobbed his head. “Let’s go, (Y/n).”
As Renjun escorted you out of the room, your front teeth anxiously sank into your lower lip. Neither of you said anything on the walk to the nurse’s office. Renjun politely asked the nurse for a first-aid kit. After obtaining it, he brought you to a secluded area to tend to your cut.
The silence between you continued, as he meticulously wiped the blood from your palm with a damp cloth. You had to use a great amount of willpower to prevent yourself from flinching as he applied ointment to the cut and then proceeded to bandage it.
Your breathing quickened when you felt his hand come in contact with your wrist. It was evident that he wanted to investigate further into what he saw earlier.
“Renjun, please.” You put your hand over his. “You don’t want to see them.”
Renjun’s eyes brimmed with melancholy. He’s never heard your voice sound so…fragile. Actually, he wasn’t certain if anyone had seen this side of you.
“You can trust me, (Y/n). I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he spoke with reassurance. 
You withdrew for a moment, debating whether or not to let him see. After taking a deep breath, you slowly rolled up your sleeve, revealing the marks which varied in different shades of pink and white.
The composed expression on Renjun’s face contorted into one of shock, an expected reaction that failed to quell the fear coursing through your veins. His fingers brushed over the scars, as he inspected them with a non-judgemental gaze.
But his words were still laced with worry. “(Y/n) these are…”
“Please don’t tell Donghyuck,” You cut him off with a whisper. 
Renjun’s brows knit together. “He doesn’t know about this?”
“He can’t.” Your head shook hastily. “If he finds out, he’ll see the truth and realize how crazy I am. He’ll leave me.”
The look in Renjun’s eyes softened as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“Listen to me, (Y/n). I don’t know what you’re struggling with. But I know that Donghyuck would never leave you for something like this. He’ll want to help and support you.”
You let Renjun's encouragement sink into your head. Could it be true that Donghyuck wouldn’t judge if he found out this dark secret of yours? Or would it be wiser to pay attention to Ahryun’s advice, and keep it to yourself like you were used to?
“I…I just don’t know.” Your voice faltered.
Renjun gave you an understanding smile. “You should tell him when you’re ready.”
You let out a shaky breath, allowing the weight of the conversation to settle on your chest. A part of you wanted to believe Renjun was right about all of this. After a moment of silence, you glanced up and gestured to your wrapped-up hand.
“Thank you. I’m sorry you had to see all this,” you said, feeling a twinge of guilt.
Before you could add anything, Renjun embraced you in a warm hug, catching you off guard. His actions came as a surprise, given that he was typically the least physically affectionate person in your friend group.
“Don’t apologize. You’re my friend too, Kang (Y/n), and I’m here for you.”
You had to force yourself to look up at the bland ceiling to keep the tears at bay. But just as they began to prick the corner of your eyes, the sound of sneakers creaking against the floor stole your attention. Both of your heads turned to see a light-haired boy dashing down the hallway.
“Yah, Kang (Y/n)!” 
You sprang away from Renjun’s arms and checked to make sure your scars were concealed before standing up. Donghyuck’s sprint came to a stop and his eyes widened with panic as he saw your bandaged hand.
“I was so worried when Jaehyun Hyung told me what happened. Are you okay?” He moved towards you, immediately pulling you into his embrace. 
You released a small breath, surrendering to the comfort of Donghyuck's embrace. Even though you would never confess it, his hugs were always a source of warmth and tenderness that could soothe any pain. It was in moments like these when you cherished his comfort. Even if he didn’t know what was going on.
“It’s just a scratch, Hyuck. I’m sorry for worrying you,” You insisted, glancing at Renjun with a pleading look.
Renjun understood you were silently asking him not to say anything. Honestly, his care for your mental state made him not want to listen to you. But at the same time, he knew he had to respect your decisions. 
After a few moments, Donghyuck pulled away to gently place his hand over the left side of your face. His eyes searched yours momentarily, before dropping down to your right hand.
You held it up for him to see. “Renjun helped wrap it up for me. So I’ll be fine.”
The tension in Donghyuck’s shoulders lessened a bit. He gave his friend an appreciative smile. “Thanks for looking after her, Renjun-ah.”
“Anytime,” Renjun hummed. He grabbed his bag and closed the first aid kit. “I have to go return this. See you guys later, take care (Y/n).”
Once Renjun left, Donghyuck focused his attention back on you. He used the soft padding of his thumb to gently caress your cheek.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked with a slight pout. 
You nodded and squeezed his hand reassuringly.  It was endearing to see how worried Donghyuck was for you, and almost sickeningly sweet. You weren’t even that injured, but he still ran out of class. His actions only made you feel more loved.
However, Renjun's words from earlier lingered in your mind, and you realized that Donghyuck was your safe haven in moments like these. Although Ahryun's words still weighed heavily on you, you knew you couldn't keep your secret from Donghyuck any longer. He cared for you deeply, and as your significant other, he deserved to know.
▃▃▃
Later that day, Donghyuck and you decided to head back to your apartment. After an hour of studying, he suggested getting some takeout and continuing the drama series you’ve both been hooked on. The two of you sat at the far end of the sofa, snuggling underneath a fluffy white blanket.
As you rested your head against your boyfriend’s chest, you had to admit that being in his arms felt especially comforting that night. With the events of the day still weighing on you, the steady rhythm of Donghyuck’s heartbeat provided a soothing backdrop and eased the tension in your body.
Toward the second half of the episode, the female lead got into a heated argument with her boyfriend. The tension had risen after she reluctantly revealed her ex had been engaging in abrasive behavior in a poor attempt to win her back. 
“How long has this been going on for?” The man looked at her with a betrayed expression.
The woman crossed her arms insecurely and replied hesitantly. “The past two months.”
“Why did you wait so long to say something?” He demanded, slamming his wine glass on the table.
“Because I knew you’d react like this!” She retorted, frustration flashing in her eyes. 
The man scoffed in disbelief, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s not good enough! You shouldn’t have kept this from me.”
A feeling of unease filled you, as you witnessed the man stand up and storm out of the restaurant. You subtly glanced up at Donghyuck, wondering what he thought about the scene.
“Do you think he was overreacting?” You asked softly. 
Donghyuck tilted his head slightly, “Yeah, a little. But I understand why he’s upset at her for hiding something like that.”
“Well, I think she just didn’t want to worry him.” Your voice trailed off.
“I get that,” He said. “But he’s her partner, and keeping secrets from one another will only hurt their relationship.
“What would you do if I was keeping a secret?” You questioned hypothetically. “Like if I didn’t say anything because I thought it might hurt you?”
Donghyuck paused for a moment before answering honestly. “I would be more hurt if you didn’t trust me enough to be truthful. It’s important that we share things, even if it may be hard to hear at times.”
Listening to your boyfriend’s thoughts only caused a small knot of apprehension to form in your stomach. 
“You wouldn’t judge me or abandon me if I confided in you then?” You hoped he couldn’t hear the timidity in your voice.
He brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The touch he left sent a tingling sensation down your spine. “Never. Whatever you’d be going through, I’d be by your side.”
You felt something catch in your throat as his sweet words sank in. When you first met, Donghyuck’s humorous behavior made you think he never took anything seriously. But talking to him now, you didn’t think you’d encountered a person who was more genuine than he was.
Taking his response as a confirmation to trust him, a rare feeling of determination consumed you. Reluctantly, you removed yourself from the comfort of Donghyuck’s arms and turn to face him.
“Actually Donghyuck, can I tell you something?”
A gentle concern filled the sun-kissed boy’s eyes as he sat up with you. His hand already reached out to grab your bandaged one, quelling the nerves that had quickly built up inside of you.
“Of course, Jagiya,” He responded patiently. “Whatever it is, I’m here to listen.”
You couldn’t think of a better moment to let Lee Donghyuck fully into your heart. The fear of what might or might not happen was not going to hold you back this time. He waited patiently, as you mentally pieced together what you were about to say. Your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your chest, but you tried to shake off the feeling. You haven’t been this nervous since the first time Donghyuck confessed to you.
After releasing a single deep breath, your lips parted to speak. “Hyuck there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you—”
However, your sentence was cut off by the sound of the front door being unlocked. Bursting through the door came your roommate, Yuna, her eyes wide with panic. Her ragged breathing made it evident she had rushed over here.
“Eonni, have you seen the latest post on UniYeon?” 
The mention of Yeonsung’s community site left you puzzled, your brows furrowing in bewilderment. You and your boyfriend exchanged looks of confusion.
“What are you talking about?” You tried to appear composed and unbothered by the disruption. When in reality, you were just trying to conceal the growing unease within you.
Yuna kicked off her sneakers before walking across the room. She pulled out her phone to show what she was referring to.
“I was studying in the library with my friends and some guys were talking about an article posted about you…” 
Donghyuck leaned in beside you to catch a glimpse. His actions prompted you to narrow your eyes in an attempt to decipher the tiny black Korean characters at the top of the screen. The headline read, Kang (Y/n) Spotted Holding Hands with Huang Renjun! 
You blinked a few times, wondering if you were hallucinating for a second. But the accusing words didn’t disappear. You tried to search for the name of the student who wrote this. But the post was anonymous. 
“What the hell?” Donghyuck hastily grabbed the phone. 
He scrolled down, revealing photos of you and Renjun in the hall earlier that day. The hall was usually empty, which made the situation look suspicious. The angles at which the photos were taken created an illusion that you were holding the boy’s hand as he knelt in front of you. When in reality, Renjun was only tending to the cut on your palm. 
“This is ridiculous. How can anyone believe this crap?” He scoffed. 
“Are you okay Eonni?” Your roommate’s voice was barely audible to you. An overwhelming feeling of dread was already beginning to consume you.
But you managed to plaster on a light-hearted smile. “It’s fine, Yuna. Thanks for letting me know.”
Yuna gave you an apologetic look as she accepted her phone back before excusing herself from the room. After she left, you reached for your laptop to pull up the article and stopped at the comment section. 
What an ungrateful b*tch! How dare she cheat on Lee Donghyuck?!
Omo, who does she think she is, going after her boyfriend’s close friend?
Aish, it’s always the sneaky quiet ones that are the devils in disguise.
Donghyuck put his hand over yours before you could scroll any further. Despite the anger simmering about the situation, he recognized the difficult position you were put in.
“Don’t listen to the garbage spewing out of their mouths.” He said firmly, closing the laptop. “We both know the truth, and that’s all that matters.”
“But still…I should’ve been more careful,” You muttered warily, running your fingers through your hair. 
He quickly reached to take your hand in his. “Hey, none of this is your fault, (Y/n)-ah. Don’t waste your energy on people who have nothing better to do than spread rumors.”
Your shoulders sank, taking in his words. His response was so natural and confident, leaving you in awe by how he didn’t place any blame on you. 
“Yeah, you’re right.” You return to your previous cuddling position and rest your head on his chest.
You felt the boy smile as his arms encircled your waist. “Oh, right. Weren’t you going to tell me something?”
Your mind raced back to what the two of you were talking about earlier. Hesitation filled you, and that small bout of courage you had was gone. 
“Oh—um, it can wait,” You brushed him off.
Donghyuck noticed your gaze shift downward, and he was about to encourage you to just tell him whatever it was right then. But then you snuggled closer to him, gently squeezing his waist.
“I just want to stay like this for a little longer,” You murmured into his t-shirt, trying to push away all the bad thoughts.
His heart quickened, and he couldn’t stop the stupid grin that formed. He wondered how someone could possibly be this adorable. While a part of him was still curious about what you were saying earlier, he was content with having you in his arms for now.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
~ chapter four ~
Ahryun glanced at her reflection on her phone screen anticipatingly, as she stood under the camellia tree at the heart of the campus. Earlier this morning, Donghyuck asked if they could meet up. Receiving a text from the popular male was enough to make her heart skip a beat. Her mind instantly overflowed with all the possible reasons why he asked to meet her. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long, as he showed up in his favorite blue drawstring hoodie and a pair of black ripped jeans.
“Hey, thanks for responding so fast.” He quickly greeted her.
“Of course. What did you want to talk to me about?” She asked sweetly. 
Donghyuck was too distracted to notice the dreamy smile that graced Ahryun’s lips. He wasted no time in getting to the point. “It’s just…(Y/n). You saw the post yesterday, right?”
“I did,” Ahryun slowly answered. Her smile faded as a tinge of disappointment quickly clouded her previously optimistic disposition. 
“People have been making a lot of stupid comments,” he male shook his head. “And even though she might pretend to be okay, I know this is affecting her. So I wanted to ask if you could keep her occupied?”
“Keep her occupied?”
Donghyuck’s eyes fell to the ground, before nodding. “I wish I could be with her, but my internship is today. And I thought since you’re her best friend, you could try to distract her from looking at her phone too much?”
Ahryun inhaled, trying to suppress her outrage. She should’ve known he would bring up her. What was so great about you that made Donghyuck feel like he needed to protect you from the real world? 
Holding back the urge to scoff, Ahryun masked her emotions behind a forced smile.
“Silly, I was already planning to take her out today,” She said. “But I would’ve done so even if you didn’t ask me to.”
The boy in front of her visibly relaxed, a look of relief washing over his face. “Yeokshi, Min Ahryun. I knew I could count on you.”
Her heart fluttered when he gave her an appreciative smile. He certainly wasn’t one of Yeonsung’s prince charmings for no reason. 
Donghyuck checked his watch and let out a soft curse under his breath. “I gotta go. My class starts in 11 minutes.”
Ahryun nodded understandingly before holding her hand out to stop him from leaving.
“Honestly, I’ve been worried about (Y/n) too, and not just because of the community post,” She admitted.
He turned to her with a confused look and waited for her to continue. She hesitated briefly before speaking up.
“She got diagnosed with anxiety last year. But I’m sure you already knew, right?”
His heart instantly sank to his stomach upon this revelation. A part of him wanted to believe Ahryun was joking. But you had been acting strange yesterday. Was this what you were trying to tell him about?
Ahryun fought back a sly grin, finding it hard to contain her amusement at his dismay. She pretended to be shocked with a feigned gasp. “Oh my, she probably didn’t want you to find out. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Anxiety? She didn’t…she never said…” 
Your friend grabbed his wrist in panic. "Please, Donghyuck-ah, you can't let her know that I told you. It's a sensitive topic for her, and she must have hidden it from you for a reason."
Based on the dumbfounded expression on his face, it was evident that the boy was rendered speechless. Ahryun had achieved the exact reaction she wanted. Donghyuck would never see you as that sweet and shy girl anymore. You resembled a fragile Jenga tower, seemingly growing taller. But it would only take a single block for you to collapse.
▃▃▃
You had thought about skipping class today. However, the rational part of your brain that wouldn’t allow anything to disrupt your academic focus, screamed a resounding “no” to you. Donghyuck offered to walk you to class, not wanting you to go alone. But you kindly declined, knowing his class was on the opposite side of campus. You weren’t going to trouble him with the extra distance.
However, the regret of that decision slowly crept up on you as soon as you set foot on campus. You didn't know what part of you believed you could handle the relentless gazes and barely restrained whispers all by yourself. Each passing minute in class felt like an eternity, with lingering glances directed your way. You felt as though you were under a microscope, a new specimen being scrutinized.
You released a quiet sigh, redirecting your focus to the professor's lecture. Aware that this was your last class for the day, you reminded yourself that enduring it for a mere fifty minutes was manageable. 
However, by the time the lecture was over, you had barely taken five steps when the buzzing of your phone disrupted your escape plan. Letting out a small sigh, you reached into your bag to take out the cellular device. The notification turned out to be a text from Ahryun four minutes ago. She had sent a message asking if you were out of class and wanted to meet up after.
On any other occasion, you would have readily agreed. But in that particular moment, all you wanted to do was retreat to the comfort of your apartment. You began to type a polite decline to her, as you made your way out of class. Coincidentally, the male you were currently caught up in a scandal with, approached you. 
“Hey, can we talk for a second?” He spoke in a hushed tone.
You mentally groaned at the icy reception students gave when they saw the two of you in the same place. Although you were pretty sure you were the one they were rolling their eyes at. Renjun shot a condescending glare at anyone who looked for too long.
After moving outside, Renjun let out a heavy sigh. “I’m really sorry about this, (Y/n). It’s unbelievable that someone would take photos of us like that.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” You replied with a faint smile. “Remember the threats I received when Donghyuck and I first started dating? I should be used to this by now.”
Your boyfriend’s roommate glanced at you with a mixture of concern and frustration in his eyes. “But that doesn’t make it right. Especially when it comes to invading your privacy and spreading rumors,” He deadpanned. 
You didn't anticipate Renjun being just as furious as Donghyuck about the situation. It warmed your heart to know that you had people in your life who cared deeply for you and were ready to stand up for you. It made you wish you could be as strong-minded as them.
Just as you were about to respond, your conversation was abruptly cut short. 
"There you are, Kang (Y/n). I've been looking for you!" You turned towards Ahryun, who was swiftly making her way down the hallway towards you and Renjun.
“Oh sorry. I was just about to answer your text,” You said sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 
A look of understanding flashed in her eyes before she noticed Renjun standing beside you. She warily gestured between the two of you with her finger. “Won’t it be suspicious if people see you together right now? Unless you guys are actually…”
“No, it’s not like that,” You stopped her from finishing her sentence, your brows furrowing in puzzlement. Did she seriously believe that you and Renjun would go behind Donghyuck’s back like that?
Renjun promptly came to your defense. “Yeah, I was just checking if (Y/n) was alright.”
The slightest trace of irritation could be heard in his voice as if he felt no need to provide Ahryun with an explanation when nothing was going on.
In response, Ahryun chuckled and playfully tapped you on the arm. "Wow, you two got so serious all of a sudden. I was just teasing," she said with a lighthearted tone.
You breathed a small sigh of relief, silently reprimanding yourself for entertaining the thought that your closest friend would think so low of you. 
 “I was thinking we should go see a movie today,” She said, linking her arm through yours. 
To which you responded with a hesitant expression, contemplating the idea. “I don’t know…I kind of just want to go home.”
“Oh come on, going out on a day like this will help take your mind off things,” Ahryun persisted. “You can join us if you’d like Renjun-ssi.”
Renjun declined with a polite smile, “Thanks, but I’m supposed to meet up with my group for a project this evening. You guys have fun though.”
You nodded understandingly, giving a friendly wave to Renjun before Ahryun took the lead, guiding you away.
▃▃▃
You zoned out during the movie, barely noticing when it reached its conclusion. Your mind seemed elsewhere, and you were only vaguely aware of the film coming to an end. Ahryun went to get a refill on her drink, while you waited for her near the entrance doors.
“(Y/n)?” A voice called out, capturing your attention. As you turned, your gaze fell upon a boy wearing a black hoodie adorned with a charming cat design. He was holding a half eaten bucket of popcorn.
“Oh hi, Jeno. What are you doing here?”
Jeno approached you with a friendly smile in return. “Jaemin dragged me here to watch this action movie with him. How about you?”
“I came here with Ahryun,” You replied. Jeno nodded in acknowledgment.
“How are you and Donghyuck?” He asked. “I heard you two recently celebrated your 200-day anniversary.”
You couldn't help but blush at the mention of such a seemingly trivial milestone. “It’s not that big of a deal,” You said, lowering your gaze.
“Well, I’d say reaching day 200 with Lee Donghyuck is quite an achievement. His relationships in high school barely made it past 20 days,” Jeno teasingly remarked, earning a laugh from you.
Jeno laughed along with you before adding, “But seriously, Donghyuck is lucky to have you. You guys have something special.” 
His words carried a genuine warmth, which you appreciated. It surprised you every time when one of Donghyuck’s friends showed genuine acceptance toward you. They had been so quick to welcome you into their friend group when you two first started dating.
“Thanks, Jeno,” you said, hoping he could feel the sincerity in your words. 
Why should you care about the opinions of others when you had all the encouragement you needed? The unwavering support from Donghyuck's friends and the strength of your bond with him made any external judgments or remarks seem insignificant.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
~ chapter five ~
"Okay, you have got to be kidding me," you groaned in frustration as you glanced at your phone. 
The sight that greeted you was a series of pictures of you and Jeno from the other day, and now the online community site was blowing up with speculation. The comments were even worse than the last time. Before you could go down a rabbit hole of scrolling, Donghyuck swiftly snatched your phone out of your grasp.
“Hyuck,” you softly protested, extending your hand to retrieve your phone back. But he pulled his arm back, keeping the device out of reach.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’m confiscating this for today.”
“But–”
Donghyuck placed a quick peck on your lips before you could finish that sentence. “You shouldn’t care about what they think, babe.”
He glanced back at the article with an annoyed sigh. He didn’t understand why people were going after you. Couldn’t they just leave your relationship alone?
“Are you alright, though?” He asked, placing a hand over yours.
You nodded, “Of course I am.”
Of course, you were lying. The recent posts and the increased gossip bothered you more than they should. A part of you blamed yourself for all this happening. But you couldn’t tell Donghyuck that. Worrying him wasn’t going to make things better.
“Well if you are struggling, you can tell me okay?” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze.
For some reason, you sensed a subtle undercurrent of concern in his words. But you brushed it off as your tendency to overthink things, convincing yourself it was nothing.
Later that day, you were hanging out at Ahryun’s apartment. You lay flat on the floor in her bedroom, staring up at the ceiling while countless thoughts swam in your head. 
“I just don’t understand why this keeps happening,” you sighed, venting your frustrations. “It’s like no matter where I go, someone is watching.”
Ahryun cast a glance back at you through her vanity mirror. "Someone must really not want you two together.”
“You think?” You frowned. 
A lot of people didn’t like you being with Donghyuck. But whoever kept posting photos of you on the community site was clearly targeting you, leaving you apprehensive about the situation.
“Well I’m sure there are plenty of girls who find it difficult to accept you and Donghyuck being together,” Ahryun spoke nonchalantly, as she picked out a pink lip tint to wear. “They just can’t stand the fact that the popular and charming Lee Donghyuck is with someone so different.”
You pondered whether you truly were that different as Ahryun said. Sure, you might not come from a privileged background or possess the most striking physical appearance. You were ordinary, just like everyone else. What was so wrong about that?
“But seriously, you shouldn’t let it bother you (Y/n). There will always be people who will hate on you,” Ahryun said.
“Yeah you’re right…”
She did have a valid point. As long as you remained a college student navigating a judgmental society, criticism would inevitably be a part of your experience. Dwelling on it wasn’t going to get you anywhere.
Letting out a sigh, you sat up and directed your gaze towards the clock on Ahryun's nightstand, realizing the time.
"Hey, can I borrow your phone for a moment?" you asked, breaking the silence. "I should message Donghyuck to let him know I'm here."
"Of course," Ahryun smiled warmly, extending her hand to pass you the device.
Mouthing a quick thank-you, you received Ahryun's phone and swiftly began searching for your boyfriend's contact information. Just as you located his number, a notification popped up, drawing your attention. Your curiosity piqued, you briefly glanced at the preview, which read: "Someone commented on your post, 'Kang (Y/n) Seen Out with Lee Jeno at the Movies'." Having a weird feeling, you clicked on the notification, leading you to the UniYeon app. Scrolling up, your disbelief grew as you discovered that Ahryun…was the owner of the post
Overwhelmed, you decided to investigate further and opened her photo gallery. To your astonishment, you discovered numerous pictures of you and Renjun, followed by images of you and Jeno. 
No, you couldn’t fathom this. Ahryun was your closest friend. She was someone you trusted wholeheartedly. She would never…
"Ahryun... what is all this?" you asked, confusion evident in your voice. A part of you desperately hoped that none of this could be true.
Ahryun spun around in her chair and met the look of betrayal in your eyes. She cursed when she saw you had the post open on her phone.
"(Y/n), I can explain—," she began. 
You stepped back, unable to fully comprehend the situation. "Wait, so it was you all along? Why…" 
Ahryun turned away, averting her gaze for a moment. Amid the tense silence, you caught the faint sound of a laugh slipping out from her lips.
“You know, you’re really pathetic Kang (Y/n),” She sneered, her words cutting through the air with a sharp edge. “Yes, it was me.”
You were startled by the sudden change in your best friend’s demeanor. “Why would you do that? The whole school is talking crap about me because of those posts.”
Ahryun fixed her gaze upon you, her expression lacked any remorse. There was an unsettling absence of any regret in her eyes, almost as if she were relieved to be exposed in this way. It was as if she had been waiting for the moment to discard the pretense of caring about you.
“Because I’ve liked Donghyuck long before you did,” she confessed. “I got tired of seeing you with him.”
Her resentful words revealed the depth of her hidden emotions. Your heart sank further, as you processed things. The revelation hit you like a tidal wave, making sense of Ahryun’s actions. 
“So you wanted to sabotage me?” You shook your head in disbelief. “Why…we’ve been friends for so long.”
A smirk tugged at the corners of Ahryun's lips, her eyes gleaming with a hint of cruel satisfaction as she observed the wavering in your voice. Witnessing you in such a vulnerable state, after so long, seemed to gratify her.
“No matter how many times I thought about it, I just don’t get why he had to be with you, of all girls,” she said bitterly. 
You took a deep breath, trying to process the magnitude of Ahryun’s actions. Seeing this new side of her left you questioning the authenticity of your friendship. Doubt crept in, as you considered the possibility that she had been pretending to be your friend this whole time.
“So you thought going behind my back and spreading false information about me would make us break up?”
"We both know how fragile you can be," Ahryun said slowly, her words carrying a calculated edge. "Like you were in high school."
The implication of her statement cut deep, resurrecting memories of past vulnerabilities. It felt as if she was exploiting your past struggles to justify her actions, further fueling the hurt and confusion that consumed you.
Before you could counter her words, Ahryun forcefully took hold of your arm. You gasped when she yanked your sleeves up, exposing the scars that held too many painful memories.
“Just remember that if he sees these hideous scars,” She threatened. “And when he does, he’ll see how broken you are. Nobody wants someone who is mentally unstable.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, as you’ve never felt more defenseless. She was using your past struggles as a weapon to tear you apart. Then to further sting to her words, she placed her hand on your shoulder as a twisted display of false comfort.
“If you can’t handle the facts, maybe you guys shouldn’t be together,” She said.
You stood up, gripping your bag tightly, and met her icy glare.
“Donghyuck isn't who you think he is,” you managed to say, your voice quivering. “He loves me, and nothing you say or do will ever change that.”
With a heavy heart, you turned away, a rush of long-forgotten emotions flooding through you. You didn’t bother to stop the tears from falling as you walked away. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you could already sense yourself slipping back into the depths of a dark place you hadn't visited since your teenage years.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
~ chapter six ~
A week had passed since your fallout with Ahryun, and you were doing your best to not let things get to you. But it was hard not to. You spent sleepless nights thinking about how things went wrong, and the subtle indications you failed to notice. Like her evident intrigue whenever you spoke about him, or the way her eyes lit up whenever his name was mentioned. 
Nevertheless, you buried yourself in your schoolwork in hopes to tune out everything that was happening. Donghyuck noticed you seemed more withdrawn lately. You could see the concern in him growing, but you insisted that everything was fine.
One day you were on your way to meet Donghyuck after his class and stopped in the cafeteria to buy drinks for the both of you. You were inserting a dollar bill into the vending machine when a group of girls approached you unexpectedly. Their focused glares at you were filled with disdain and judgment.
“Look at that, it’s Kang (Y/n) the cheater.” one of the girls said, her voice dripping with hostility. “First it was Huang Renjun, and then Lee Jeno. Who’s next, Na Jaemin?”
You shrank back slightly, clenching your fists as you fought to maintain your composure. Despite them being three harmless girls, any sort of conflict easily intimidated you. Your heart raced, and a surge of anxiety threatened to overwhelm you, but you were determined to stand your ground.
 “Please, you don’t know anything,” you said, your voice firm and steady. “So stay out of it.”
“You see, no one believes that quiet nice girl facade you try to uphold,” the girl beside the first one, scowled. “If you’re smart, you’d break up with him. I’m sure you’re aware that you don’t deserve him.”
You tried to not show them how their words pierced through you like a needle. The hate comments were bad enough. But being confronted in person made the situation ten times scarier.
Determined to not succumb to their empty threats, you grabbed the beverages from the vending machine and made the move to leave. But before you could escape their presence, the third girl twisted the cap off her soda bottle and spilled it on you. In mere seconds your clothes were drenched in the sticky liquid.
“Oops, my bad,” she laughed mockingly. 
A wave of humiliation crashed over you, as you felt the weight of the stares and the whispers echoing through the cafeteria. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Ahryun standing from a distance, watching in amusement. Was this all some twisted joke to her?
Back in high school, she was the only one who defended you. Now knowing her support and loyalty had been fake, made the sight of her standing idly by more painful.
Just as you were ready to break down, a voice yelled from behind you.
“Yah, what the hell do you think you’re doing to her?”
Turning your gaze, you saw Donghyuck storming into the cafeteria. His eyes were blazing with anger. 
“Hyuck—” You tried to stop him before he could make the situation worse. But he was too angry to listen.
“You think it’s acceptable to gang up on someone based on false information?” His eyes glowered intensely. “You have no right to harass her or make judgments without knowing the whole truth.”
The cafeteria fell into an uneasy silence, the whispers fading into the background as his words reverberated through the space. The girls who had targeted you were momentarily taken aback by Donghyuck's unyielding defense, their expressions shifting from arrogance to uncertainty.
Deciding he had enough of this, Donghyuck firmly grasped your hand and guided you away from the prying eyes and tense atmosphere. He let out a sigh of concern as his gaze fell upon the stained fabric of your shirt, prompting him to remove his hoodie and put it on you.
“I’m so sorry (Y/n),” he mumbled, even though he wasn’t the one who should be apologizing. “Are you okay?”
You shook your head. “I’m fine, Hyuck. Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure though?” he asked, extending his hand towards you.
But you took a step back, feeling frustrated. “Yes, I already told you. I’m fine.”
“(Y/n)—”
“I just… I just want to be alone right now, okay?” You placed the drink you bought in his hands and walked past him.
Later that night, you found yourself once again unable to fall asleep. It felt like the troublesome thoughts in your head were slowly killing you, weighing heavily on your conscience. The weight of self-blame consumed you, as you couldn't help but think that all of this was your fault. It’s been so long since you felt this way, completely worthless. You didn’t deserve to have someone as sweet as Donghyuck in your life. 
Without thinking much, you sluggishly sat down in your desk chair and absentmindedly opened the drawer. Inside lay an old friend you hadn't laid eyes on in ages. Ignoring the creeping sense of dread, you lifted the gleaming box cutter from the drawer.
Holding your breath, you tightly gripped the handle and pulled up your sleeve. You barely felt it when the cold blade punctured your flesh, tracing a diagonal line across your pale skin. Tears streamed down your cheek as you repeated the same incisions, mirroring the first one. The sensation of hot blood seeping out became palpable with each new cut.
You honestly didn't know how you would react if Donghyuck were to witness you in this state. The fear of him discovering the depth of your brokenness was more terrifying than the fresh scars that adorned your skin. Perhaps Ahryun was right, maybe you couldn’t handle this.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
~ chapter seven ~
You kept your gaze locked on the steaming cup of hot chocolate, anxiously waiting for the arrival of your boyfriend. He rushed into the café with an apologetic smile, as he sat down in the empty chair across from you.
“Sorry, I’m late. Renjun needed my help with something,” he said.
In response, you slid the other drink in his direction with an understanding smile. “I got your usual.”
"You are the best," he praised, lifting the cup of coffee to his lips for a sip.
You listened quietly as he shared about how busy he’s been lately with school and his internship. However, the gnawing sensation in your stomach kept you from fully focusing on the conversation.
“Oh, right!” Donghyuck’s eyes lit up as if a light bulb suddenly went off in his brain. “Your birthday is coming up, babe. What do you want to do?”
It was at that moment, you recognized the pressing need to speak up before your courage slipped away.
“Donghyuck…there’s something I have to say,” you spoke cautiously. 
The confusion in his eyes, when you used his full name, was almost unbearable for you to see. But he waited expectantly to hear whatever you were about to say. The fact that he was oblivious to the reason you asked him to meet you here made you feel nauseated. You were aware that you couldn't continue to tiptoe around the issue for much longer.
Taking a deep breath, you locked eyes with him once more. Without allowing any room for hesitation, you uttered the next three words with unwavering determination.
"Let’s break up.”
You witnessed his face falter, a stunned look settling in as he struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation.
“(Y/n)...what are you saying?” he chuckled half-heartedly. “You’re not being serious, right?”
Biting down on your lip, you used the explanation you had carefully prepared. “I realized that I can’t do this whole campus couple thing anymore. It feels suffocating, like every moment we spend together, people are watching and waiting to criticize me for something."
“I…I had no idea you felt that way,” Donghyuck swallowed, his voice tinged with surprise at your confession. “But (Y/n), we can work through this. I promise—”
“No, we can’t,” you deadpanned. “You should find someone better than me.”
You’ve never despised yourself more than you did in this moment. The hurt in his eyes reflected your own, a stark reminder that you were the source of his new pain.
In dismay, Donghyuck reached for your hand in desperation. “(Y/n) please, don’t do this.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve already made up my mind,” your voice trembled with a mix of despondence and resignation.
Slowly you reached behind your neck and unclasped the necklace he gave you a while ago. Holding back tears, you delicately placed the shimmering moon pendant in his hand. Returning this symbol of your connection was far more heart-wrenching than you had anticipated.
The weight of the decision pressing on your shoulders, you gathered your belongings and rose from your seat, your determination masking the cracks in your resolve. The distant echoes of his anguished voice calling after you tugged at your heart, but you ignored them. With quickened steps, you hastened out of the café, your eyes fixed on the path ahead, knowing that if you allowed yourself even a moment of hesitation, you’d give into your selfish emotions.
You never cried so hard in your life as you did that evening when you returned to your apartment. You had just pushed away the one person who had brought so much joy into your once gloomy life. But as long as your mind continued to waver, you understood the importance of keeping everyone at a distance was safer.
Even though it meant bringing an end to a love that was incredibly precious to you, deep down, you told yourself that things were better this way.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
~ chapter eight ~
The next month following your breakup, felt like a self-imposed prison sentence. As the days blurred together, you had become a shadow of your former self. With the absence of your best friend and boyfriend, you found solace in isolation, confining yourself to the four walls of your apartment. It felt as if you were bound to your living space, only leaving to attend classes or go to your part-time job at the library.
The mere thought of encountering Donghyuck outside filled you with an overwhelming sense of unease, making it unbearable to step foot beyond the safety of your apartment. The idea of facing him, of seeing the pain reflected in his eyes or the awkwardness that would surely follow, was something you couldn't bring yourself to confront.
With your mental state continuing to deteriorate, you found yourself falling back into old habits. The blade in your drawer became the sinister companion you turned to when the emotional pain became too much. At some point, you stopped feeling anything as you wiped the crimson trails that traced down your arm.
Despite the tireless efforts of several friends, their attempts to reach out to you were met with distant silence and evasive responses. Renjun had repeatedly urged you to call him if you wanted to talk, while Jeno and Jaemin tried their best to cheer you up. However, their kind gestures only served to make your heartache worse. You knew that they were deeply concerned for both you and Donghyuck. 
Secretly, you harbored the hope that the breakup wasn’t affecting Donghyuck just as deeply as it was for you. In a bittersweet twist, now that he was no longer tied to you, all you wanted was for him to move on swiftly and find happiness without you.
On a Friday night, Jaemin had made his way to your apartment. He sat with you on the couch, saddened by your withdrawn state. The toll of your emotional turmoil was evident in your appearance. 
You had forsaken the delicate hues of your wardrobe, the creamy whites and light blues that once adorned your form, for a monochrome palette of darkness. Your complexion had lost its natural radiance, leaving your skin pale and lacking its usual vitality. Dark circles had etched their mark under your weary eyes, evidence of the sleepless nights and internal struggles you had endured.
“Come with me to the spring festival,” Jaemin suggested. “It’s your favorite event of the school year.”
You looked up at him with a weak smile, your eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and despair. Subconsciously, you tugged down on the ends of your sleeves, afraid your scars might show. 
“I’m sorry Jaemin. But I really can’t...right now,” you mumbled. “It wouldn’t be right for me to go out and have fun.”
Jaemin’s expression filled with genuine concern, as he reached to put his hand on your shoulder. “Don’t say that (Y/n),” he said softly, his voice laced with empathy. “I understand that you’re having just as much of a hard time as Donghyuck is right now. But shutting yourself out from the rest of the world isn’t healthy. You know he wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
The mention of his name was enough to cause your lip to quiver. You raised a trembling hand to press against your watery eyes. 
Shaking your head, you lamented, “No, I don’t deserve your kindness or anyone else’s. I’m a terrible person. You don’t even know, Jaemin.”
It hurt Jaemin to see his friend so distraught. While he had a faint understanding of your tendency to self-criticize, he didn’t think you’d be this harsh on yourself. He had a hunch that you didn't truly desire to end things with Donghyuck.
You cried into Jaemin’s shoulder a bit, feeling oddly better after letting out some of your emotions. Once you calmed down, Jaemin tried to convince you again about the spring festival.
“Come on, it’ll be good for you to step outside for a bit,” He insisted. “You don’t even have to stay that long. If you’re not feeling it, I’ll bring you back here.”
Just the thought of stepping into a crowd after the recent events sent a shiver down your spine. But Jaemin’s unwavering support and effort to help you reclaim some sort of normalcy, made you feel guilty. Deep down, you knew you couldn’t keep hiding forever. Maybe, just maybe, you could go out this once for a little distraction.
With a hesitant nod, you gathered the strength to pull yourself off the couch. “Okay, Jaemin. I’ll try, but no promises.”
Jaemin jumped up with excitement, his face lighting up as he urged you to the door. Once you arrived at the festival, you were greeted by the enchanting glow of the hung-up lanterns and spring-themed music playing in the background. The sight of cherry blossom petals dancing in the air reminded you of why you liked the festival so much in the first place.
“Kang (Y/n), you made it!” Renjun waved to you from one of the booths. Jeno stood beside him and gave you a kind smile.
Seeing familiar faces reignited a small flicker of joy you haven’t experienced in a while. Gradually, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the night. You let the guys guide you through the vibrant booths, adorned by colorful decorations. The air was filled with the aroma of sizzling fishcakes and the subtle fragrance of peach-flavored soju. You made a conscious effort to ignore the icy stares that people directed toward you.
Amidst the bustle of the festivities, your eyes caught a glimpse of a certain two people seated on one of the benches. Donghyuck appeared to be slightly drunk, and Ahryun was sitting right beside him. Ignoring any feelings of unease, you discreetly walked closer to where they were. 
“I miss her so much. Nothing feels the same anymore without her,” Donghyuck blubbered. “I should’ve been there for her more and realized she was hurting.”
Ahryun reached out to tenderly hold his hand. “It’s not your fault, Donghyuck. (Y/n) made her own choices, and you shouldn’t be miserable because of her.”
She paused before gathering the courage to continue. “You know, I’ve liked you for some time now Donghyuck-ah.”
The boy’s expression shifted, caught off guard by Ahryun’s abrupt confession. He might be a little intoxicated, but his senses were still intact.
“I know how it sounds. But I liked you long before (Y/n) did,” Ahryun persisted. “And since you guys broke up I thought…”
“So what, you thought you could step in and replace (Y/n)? Is that it?” He started to question her intentions.
Ahryun’s eyes cried out with desperation. “I…I could be better for you than she was, Donghyuck. (Y/n) was just weak, unable to handle the challenges of being in a relationship.”
Donghyuck's eyes hardened, his protective instincts kicking in. "Aren't you her friend?" he asked. "Why are you talking about her like that?"
Ahryun's desperation heightened as she felt her chance slipping away. Ignoring his question, she leaned in closer, her voice now a seductive whisper. With a determined grip on his jacket collar, she tried to pull him closer to her.
"Donghyuck, if you just let me," Ahryun murmured, her voice filled with an unsettling mixture of desire and urgency.
That was when you reached your breaking point. The sight of Donghyuck and Ahryun, coupled with the flood of conflicting emotions inside you, became too overwhelming to bear. Slowly, you began to backtrack, stepping away from the scene that brought you so much pain. Each step felt heavier than the last as if the weight of your emotions was pulling you down. You turned in the opposite direction, determined to leave it all behind.
Just as you left the scene, Ahryun leaned closer to kiss Donghyuck. You missed seeing him push her away in outrage. He quickly stood up from the bench, his face contorted with anger and disappointment.
"Are you kidding me right now?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief. He locked his gaze with Ahryun, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and disgust.
"Kang (Y/n) is the person for me," he declared firmly. "Not you or anyone else."
He left Ahryun feeling torn, with not even the slightest bit of sympathy. However, his path was interrupted when he spotted Jaemin standing nearby, his face filled with panic.
"Hold on, Hyuck," Jaemin spoke urgently, his voice quivering. "You need to know that (Y/n) saw Ahryun try to kiss you. She... she didn't look too good.”
Donghyuck took a step back, his heart sinking, and let out a frustrated curse. As if his night couldn't get any worse. "Where did she go?" he asked Jaemin, his voice tinged with worry. 
As soon as Jaemin pointed him in the right direction, Donghyuck swiftly turned and hurried in the path you had taken. His heart raced as he desperately tried to catch up to you.
"(Y/n), wait!" he called after you.
Your body tensed at the sound of his voice and you froze in your tracks. The last thing you wanted was to see him right now. But Donghyuck wasn’t going to let you slip away so easily.
He approached you, his breath coming out in labored gasps. “Please, can we just talk?”
The pleading tone in his voice was what caused you to give in. Cautiously, you turned around to face him.
“What is it?” You were almost afraid to ask.
“Did you…did you know that Ahryun liked me?” He asked in disbelief. “Is that why you broke up with me?”
You looked at him, feeling lost and unsure of how to respond. Donghyuck sighed, closing the distance between you, his eyes filled with sincerity.
"(Y/n), I would have never gone to her. I never had any intentions of moving on or being with anyone else," he said earnestly. “You know that, right?”
There was a part of you that felt a glimmer of gratitude, knowing that Donghyuck still held feelings for you. It puzzled you how he could be so sweet, especially when you were the one who hurt him.
Feeling overwhelmed by your own guilt, you took a step back, distancing yourself from Donghyuck. Your voice trembled with a mixture of emotions as you spoke.
"Why are you being so kind to me? You should hate me.”
His eyes glistened with tears. “I could never hate you, Kang (Y/n). Please don’t think you’re unworthy of kindness or love.”
You felt a surge of frustration welling up inside you, pushing back against his words.
“No, I’m not,” You snapped. 
Whatever had transpired between him and Ahryun didn’t matter. Despite Donghyuck’s reassurances, you still clung to the belief that you were damaged and broken. If he knew about your past, if he saw the scars beneath your sweater, he would never be able to love you.
Mumbling a quiet apology, you pushed past him, your mind clouded with self-doubt and regret. The weight of the evening bore down on your shoulders, and you couldn't help but blame yourself for stepping out into the world once again. Going to the festival now felt like a mistake, amplifying your insecurities and highlighting your perceived inadequacies.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
~ chapter nine ~ 
Ahryun seethed with anger and resentment as she refused to accept Donghyuck's rejection. In her mind, she saw you as the sole obstacle standing between her and the possibility of being with him. The rejection fueled her bitterness and the desire for revenge brewed within her. All she yearned for was to witness you suffer once more, to see you hurt as deeply as she believed she had been hurt. It was time for people to see you for who you truly were.
The morning sunlight painted a gentle glow across the campus as you arrived for your poetry class the day after the festival. However, as you walked by, you noticed a peculiar shift in the way people looked at you as they passed by. Whispers filled the air, and bewildered gazes followed your every step. You wondered if Ahryun posted another rumor about you again. Had she secretly captured photos of you and Jaemin this time?
Feeling paranoid, you paused to take out your phone and quickly navigated the UniYeon site. As the page loaded, the color drained from your face when you were greeted by the headline post. 
“‘Kang (Y/n)’s Horrific Past Exposed,’” someone read aloud as they scrolled through the article on her phone. The person walking with them peered over the person’s shoulder to get a better look. 
“Wah, did she actually try to kill herself?”
No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. With trembling fingers, you clicked on the post, your heart pounding. As you scanned the text, it mercilessly revealed all the painful details about your past suicide attempt in high school. The weight of each word intensified your feelings of shame and vulnerability. And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, there it was—the video capturing the haunting moment you ran into traffic, displayed at the bottom of the article.
You felt like you were reliving your trauma in high school, all over again. The piercing stares from those around you felt like a repeat performance, a mix of pity and judgment intertwined. There was only one other person in this university who knew about this incident. Min Ahryun.
Now the whole university was aware of what kind of person you were. Which meant that he knew too. Suddenly, the thought of attending your poetry class faded into the background. Overwhelmed with panic, your feet instinctively moved in reverse, and urged you to retreat.
▃▃▃
The second Donghyuck saw the UniYeon post, he abandoned everything else and set out to look for you. He sprinted to the location of your class, only to discover that you weren’t there. Panic consumed him as he realized that you must have left the campus.
Reading the post was emotionally excruciating for him. He couldn't fathom the depths of your anxiety and the overwhelming pain you must have experienced during that dark period. This had to be what you were trying to tell him that one night after you had cut your hand. He was angry with himself, thinking about how you have been suffering alone in silence this whole time.
“(Y/n)!” He pressed the doorbell, once he got to your apartment unit. When you didn’t come to the door, Donghyuck punched in the passcode to your door and let himself in.
You weren’t in the living room or the kitchen. So he darted over to your bedroom and was met with a closed door. He banged on it anxiously, calling out your name.
“Please, (Y/n),” He pleaded desperately. “Let me in.”
The sound of his voice barely registered, as you tried to collect yourself. It felt like all your fears were coming true. You just wanted all of it to go away.
Somehow, Donghyuck managed to break open the lock on your door forcefully and rushed into the room. The sight of you slumped on the floor, tears staining your cheeks, shattered him inside.
Donghyuck approached you carefully, kneeling before you. “(Y/n)...”
“You saw it, didn’t you?” 
He nodded silently in response and tried to take your hand. But when you flinched in response to his touch, a look of suspicion crossed his face. His eyes searched yours, trying to understand the reason behind your reaction.
That’s when he glanced down and noticed the splotch of blood on your hand. His worry deepened, as he started to wonder about the desperate measures you had taken to deal with your pain.
Without saying anything, he reached again for your arm. You didn’t say anything this time and looked away when you felt your sleeve being rolled up. A deep sense of shame crawled up your throat as more tears blurred your vision.
Donghyuck couldn’t control the tears that cascaded down his cheeks when he saw your arm covered in angry red marks.
“(Y/n), why…?”
“I’m sorry,” you wept brokenly, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
In the next moments, Donghyuck pulled you into his lap, engulfing you in a tight embrace. Your fingers instinctively gripped onto his shirt as sobs escaped your lips. He never felt so powerless, hearing your heart-breaking cries and feeling your body tremble against his. Tears streamed endlessly as he held you close, silently sharing your anguish. All he could do was cry with you.
“I’m so sorry,” the boy fretted. “I didn’t know you were in this much pain. I wish I had known, (Y/n). I wish I could have been there for you when you needed someone the most.”
“There were so many times I wanted to open up to you,” you managed to utter through your messy tears. “But I was so afraid of losing you, Hyuck. I didn’t want to be a burden to you.”
Donghyuck, in response, leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. He stroked your hair softly. 
"Oh (Y/n), you could never be a burden to me," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. His eyes glistened with tears as he looked at you, his heart breaking for the pain you had endured alone. "How could you ever think that? You mean the world to me.”
You wrapped your arms around him tightly. Your voice was muffled as you spoke into his hoodie. “I’m sorry, Donghyuck. I’m sorry for pushing you away and not letting you in.”
"It's okay," he cooed soothingly, his voice filled with compassion. He continued to rub gentle circles across your back, offering comfort and reassurance. "It's okay, babe. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere.”
Once the both of you calmed down a bit, Donghyuck retrieved some medical supplies from your bathroom. You were surprised to learn how skilled he was at cleaning and bandaging wounds. 
After he finished up, the two of you found solace in each other’s arms, spending the rest of the day in bed. Donghyuck listened attentively as you finally confessed everything that had been weighing on your heart. You didn’t detect even the slightest hint of repulsion from him. Witnessing how empathetic he was with you, allowed you to see that Donghyuck’s feelings for you were sincere. 
The stormy gray clouds of despair gradually disperse, allowing rays of warmth and hope to seep into your heart. Your former friend had tried to tear you apart again. Everyone at the university knew your secret. Mentally, you were weaker than ever. But with Donghyuck by your side, you felt like everything was going to be okay.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
~ epilogue ~
In the coming days, Donghyuck and you walked hand in hand across campus. You chose to ignore the curious looks and hushed voices of speculations. The strength of your bond radiated in your intertwined fingers, symbolizing a resilient unity that could not be shaken by mere judgment.
“I just thought you should know,” Donghyuck said, glancing over at you fondly. “You look beautiful today.”
His flirtations still made you blush profusely, your cheeks tinged with a rosy hue as you subconsciously reached to hold the delicate crescent moon pendant around your neck. The necklace served as a reminder of the love and tenderness you found in each other’s presence.
Deciding you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you flustered, you playfully stopped walking and pulled the boy closer, surprising him with a swift yet passionate kiss. His lips met yours eagerly, his handing finding its place on your waist as the intimacy of the moment deepened. In that fleeting embrace, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of your connection and the electric chemistry that sparked between you.
"I love you, Lee Donghyuck," you said confidently, your eyes filled with sincerity and affection, after pulling away from the kiss. Hearing you say those words first was rare, and it took him by surprise.
His gaze softened as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I love you too, (Y/n). More than you'll ever know."
The two of you might have faced some challenging obstacles. And you knew that life would continue to present its share of difficulties. However, you were certain now that the bond you had with Donghyuck was very much real and unbreakable. Knowing you were stronger together, you believed you could overcome anything.
─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─
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tooweirdforyou · 3 months
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Will u not come back? :((((
hello, anon! hope you’re doing well and apologies for the late response. I hope you see this! ❤️
so, I guess this will be my answer and also my first post in about a year or so.. Im not gonna make any excuses or whatever, and cut straight to the point.
Bit of a long post but it will explain most things without being too personal just because it’s been a long time and part of me feels as though I lost that respect and privilege of being comfortable and being myself around you guys. Anyone and everyone who stayed or is a newcomer to my account.
It’s the new year. Here’s how I’ll answer you.
Do I wish to come back? Yes.
Have I been actively attempting to come back? Yes and no. I have been attempting to work on chapters for my Quotev books, but lots of writers block and just pure unmotivated to continue with where I am. Knowing it can be better if I were to redo it, continue with force or if I simply make a new book, (( which due to my imagination and inspiration by things I’ve come across, I keep wanting to start new books. ))
Have things drastically changed for me as I’ve been away? Yeah, kinda. I mean, things are getting a little more difficult for me, I won’t go into too much detail but it’s been really difficult for me personally the last several months. I’ve never been consistent in my feelings and almost always ended up more numb, empty and sad. And some days it would be so bad that I couldn’t be alone and had to be in a room with another person I knew. I’m really working on it but it really isn’t something that just goes away, as most of may or may not understand.
Am I still dating? Yes! I’m still very happy with the guy I’ve known and started dating last year and in fact, we’ll be hitting our two years very soon. I know this may be personal but I kinda just wanted an excuse to talk about him, haha.
Now, am I still writing? / interested in writing? Definitely. I just have huge motivation problems but I definitely still love that creative form of expressing your imagination into words and making a story. The problem is that I have all these ideas and it just sucks to have to do all this beginning stuff instead of making the reader or OC in love with the person already!! 😂 but yes. I honestly do love to write still and my boyfriend tries to encourage and supports me but it’s really my own fault.
do I still Roleplay? I remember mentioning this and then making an separate acc for this but never really interacted with it often because at the time I was busy. And now, I don’t anymore because it makes my boyfriend jealous, haha. I do miss it though :)
Do I still go on tumblr? Every once in a while, which is like every two weeks or so? Or just under two weeks or sometimes longer. It depends. But yes, I do check and I do love to read every new comment and message I get, I just don’t respond to it because I’m honestly a little scared.
Will I come back? I want to. I really do. But there’s a few factors that come into play-
- so much time has passed that I worry I no longer have like a mutual bond with you all and that it’s too late for me to come back and just pretend like everything is fine. It’s not. I’m worried it’s too late to just start writing again, I guess I’m nervous? I missed being able to be comfortable and be myself on here but I don’t know. I think my time has passed.
- not only that, I don’t quite know how to use tumblr anymore.
- I can’t stick to one fandom, just like my mood swings, my current obsession changes so often that I’m worried I won’t be able to keep up with certain works or keep everyone happy with my work.
- I don’t know if I should continue mt old works ( ones on Quotev )?
Start new ones?
Go back to scenarios and oneshots like I used to?
Refresh on tumblr and continue here again?
Move to AO3?
It’s the new year and I do want to better myself and change and I really hope that that means I can start over with myself and my writings once again.
I missed all my comments and messages and having mutuals and interacting with everyone. It makes me feel connected and honestly little less lonely when my boyfriend has his long busy hours..
But to finally answer properly. Yes, I want to come back but I honestly don’t know where to start or if I can.
I’ll be checking tumblr so if anyone has any questions, comments or suggestions or whatever you wish to tell me, I will be here. Maybe by next month I’ll have an answer of what I’ll be doing in regards to writing. Whether I take any advice from you guys or make my own decision.
im very deeply sorry for my absence. I hope this answers everyone’s thoughts.
sending lots of love. ❤️ thank you to everyone.
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fanboymickey · 1 year
Text
Maybe we’re more than friends
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Ex!Reader
Summary: Rooster and his Ex have been running circles around each other for the past eleven years, afraid to admit it because maybe the other might not feel the same, however one phone call with Hangman immediately changes that.
Word counter: 1.0k
Warnings: hints to sex, idk feelings? A little bit of angst if you squint
AN: Not edited or beta read, so apologies if there’s any mistakes. If you enjoy, I would gratefully appreciate you leaving a comment and/or reblog. If not, that’s also ok. As always, thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy.
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“We can’t keep doing this,” you said between kisses as you ran your hands through Roosters sandy curls and bucked your hips into his own.
“C’mon babe,” he hadn’t used that nickname on you since you guys had broken up eleven years ago. The breakup hurt you, but somehow you always found yourself in Roosters bed even after you had just been on dates with other men, “you know you want to stay.” He smirked as he kissed you.
His tongue licked your bottom lip asking for an entrance. You happily agreed as you shifted to run your hands under his shirt and up his back.
You pulled at his shirt attempting to signal to him to take it off. He moved away from you to take off his shirt and you removed one of his shirts that you had been wearing, “God you look so good in my clothing, but you look even better without it.”
You smirked, “maybe I can stay a few more hours.”
He gave you the signature Bradshaw smile and then pulled you back into a kiss. He began kissing down your neck, finding your sweet spot and sucking there, “Bradley! No leaving marks.”
“What? Why not?” He teased, “Because I don’t want people to know that we’re still doing whatever this is.” You admitted.
“Everyone already knows we,” he pointed between the two of you, “keep doing whatever this is. Why do you think Hangman and Coyote never once tried to ask you out?”
You and Rooster had been college sweethearts and broke up two months before graduation since he was joining the Navy and moving away. You both agreed to stay friends and continue to be in each other’s lives, however, you guys have been running circles around each other for the last eleven years. Whenever you guys would see each other and weren’t dating other people, you’d both somehow always bed up in the other's bed. After you had moved out to Fightertown, San Diego, two years ago, you guys had found yourself drawn back to each other in a way that no longer felt like just two friends having some fun.
“I think we should take a break.” You pulled yourself up from his lap and began to gather your clothing off the floor and get dressed.
“Like for tonight?” Rooster furrowed his eyebrows. He was confused as to why you suddenly started acting weird towards him. He thought you knew that everyone else already knew about the arrangement the two of you had. If anyone paid attention close enough then they could see. You guys were still pretty touchy feely in public, oftentimes holding hands, an arm around the waist or even Rooster with his arm around your shoulder.
“No, Rooster, indefinitely. We should stop whatever this is for a while and maybe figure out if we can be just friends.” You quickly got dressed before he could respond and left his small three bedroom house he resided in on base.
You got into your car and dialed your best friend's number, “pick up, pick up, pick up,” you silently prayed while you heard the phone continue to ring. It was 1:43am and you honestly weren’t expecting to hear the raspy voice on the other end, “Y/N, this better be an emergency if you’re calling at 1:45am.”
“Hangman! Thank god you answered.” You paused, “Wait, what are you doing picking up Natasha’s phone?” You questioned.
“You called my phone, not Phoenix’s, if you wanted her then you should’ve dialed another number.” He said bluntly, “What’s urgent enough to call me at 1:45 in the morning?” He asked curiously. You looked down at your phone and realized you accidentally called a group chat you had between you, Hangman, Fanboy, Payback and Bob for planning a surprise party for Phoenix last month.
You grimaced, “I didn’t mean to call you so, uh I guess nothing,” you paused thinking about how you could really use advice right now and you didn’t care if it came from the Navy’s infamous Top Gun playboy. Besides you had talked to Jake a few times before about problems you’ve had with men and dating in the past, but never about your relationship with Rooster like you had to Phoenix and Bob especially since they’d started dating a few years ago and had gotten married last year. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Is it about Rooster?” He guessed. He had seen the way Rooster looked at you, hell he had seen the way you looked at Rooster, there was no denying you both were both still into each other.
“What? How’d you know? I mean Rooster mentioned everyone knew about our,” you paused wondering if you were about to use the right word to explain your situation, “arrangement, but I hoped maybe he was wrong.”
“Darlin’ anyone with two eyes can see that you guys are a thing,” he chuckled, “you guys are always all over each other and don’t get me started of the way you guys look at each other? It’s disgusting. It’s almost like it’s something out of a romcom. You guys might as well just get married and pop out a Bradshaw or two and keep the Bradshaw lineage going.” He joked.
“What do you mean by how we look at each other?” You asked softly. You were at a loss for words trying to piece together your own feelings for Rooster.
“You look at each other like nobody else exists. It’s the same way my parents look at each other and not to mention the same way Fanboy looks at French toast sticks.” He chuckled to himself, “God he loves those French toast sticks.” He mumbled that last part to himself.
You had been afraid to say anything to Rooster about your feelings for awhile, not wanting to ruin what you guys had. Maybe, you should say something especially if Hangman of all people is telling you this.
“I- well, hangman, I won’t say this again, but you’re right and thank you.”
“I’m always righ-“ you hung up the phone, got out of your car and ran back to Rooster’s door.
Before you could knock, the front door opened, “Y/N,”
“Rooster,” you paused, looking into his eyes preparing to confess your feelings when he cut you off and took this opportunity to talk.
“I was wrong to assume you’d be ok with everyone knowing about us and I’m sorry that I-“ you cut him off with a kiss.
You pulled away, “It’s ok, I’m sorry I overreacted, I was just scared that you didn’t return my feelings and that my heart would just get broken again.” You confessed.
“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you this whole time. I was willing to be with you whatever way you would let me have you.” He brought his hands up to cup your face.
“I love you too.” You smiled and pulled him into another kiss, “Well Y/N, take me to bed or lose me forever, sweetheart.”
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celestie0 · 1 month
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IT’S CELESTIEFAN3000 i have to say i like tumblr way more than ao3 so i’ll be using this to comment from now on 😋 But i would like to personally thank you for writing chapter 9, your author voice is genuinely so appealing and HONESTLY you could pass off as a literal professional author if I didn’t know this was fanfiction!
Now for the uglier feelings: (please ignore typos or other mistakes i wrote a lot. I am very normal about kickoff, obviously)
I SOBBED LIKE A BABY MIDWAY AND BECAME A CRYING SOUND EFFECT AT THE END OK OK OKAYYYYYYY 😭😭💫💫 I’m still dizzy and lightheaded from the effect ur writing gives me (THIS IS A GOOD THING) it’s so addicting i need more😭‼️ UGHHHH the way you build that exact RIGHT amount of comfort to compensate for the suffering you’ve but us through but still managed to EDGE US AT THE END . I WISH YOU WEREN’T SO GOOD AT THIS FANFICTION THING, BECAUSE DAMN! 😭😭😭😭
The scenes were so fucking beautiful, I love the peaceful atmosphere that rain gives and how you were able to contrast that as an escape from that horrible loud and noisy bar to just a horrible man!!!!! You really know how to direct scenes and i can not express in words how much they mean to me 🥹🥹😭😭😭
I feel like I’ve overused the crying face emoji too much in my ask BUT I ACTUALLY MEAN IT HERE EVERY TIME I can fill an entire glass up of my tears that kickoff caused me to shed alone 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Everything was just great vegetables, this chapter will definitely be haunting me while I sleep but it ended with an amazing scenario to build off of and dream about RIGHT?☺️ Anyway, my last words here are that I admire how you’ve been working on this project for around a couple months now nonstop, but the quality has not dropped and has instead improved despite it getting really tiring the more you carry on with it! Maybe that’s just how I feel about finishing what I’ve started LMAO but it’s so impressive every time I see someone able to pull that off, I’ve seen some fics succumb to the tragedy of “i-just-want-to-get-this-over-with-because-the-concept-no-longer-interests-me-anymore”-ness 😔 BUT WITH KICKOFF! I’m so happy that the author is as passionate about the characters and plot in their fanfiction as I am, and hard work really does pay off! (for the reader, hard work is waiting 3 weeks for a new fic— but the read’s always better the longer you wait 😉)
My ADHD really came out here I deeply apologize but my ACTUAL final words are: I wish I had a bf like gojo, Oh My God You Are A Legend Ellie, You are most deserving person of meeting Gojo Satoru FIRST if he ever comes to life, it is 1am haha so i’m sleeping now ☺️🤍 Celestiefan300 out!
MY SWEET ANGEL BB CELESTIEFAN3000 😭🫶🏼💕💕 HI DEAR
UMM CAN I JUST SAY IM AB TO SOB ALR JUST FROM HOW LONG THIS ASK IS ??? PLS FORGIVE MY URGE TO RESPOND TO EVERY ASPECT OF IT
thank you sm for the compliments on the writinf omg i rly feel comin into my own now n finding my voice as i continue to write more so seeing u say that esp as a long term reader is just ssooo dhddldfk 🥺💕 brb gonna cry
PLS IM SO SORRY FOR THE SAD EMOTIONSS aaa yes the baby steps to build their relationship has been……baby stepping indeed LOL but it was so nice to write the scene at rhe end where gojo comforts her 😭💕 so excited to write lovey dovey gojo now
OMG STOPPP w the nice words i will literally eat u for breakfast🧍🏻‍♀️the contrast w the soothing rain & hectic bar scene 😭 u pointing that out just made me soooo freaking happyy and wahh im so glad the scenes resonate w you :””) <33
ME TOO I FEEL IM HOLDING BACK ALL THE 😭😭😭 WMOJIS I COULD USE READING THIS ASK
awhh thanks darling im so happy kickoff has ur continued interest and AW to hear its improving means sm to me 🥺💕 im so passionate ab it, it has been so cathartic to write, and although its also hard to write sometimes bc of the personal aspects, it’s so joyous to me and i look forward to seeing it thru to the end w the same amt of passion. HAHAHA its hard work to read tho damn 😮‍💨 ur not wrong!! and also yes i too will be daydreaming of what happens next 🤣
my final words: i love u sm, YOU deserve a satoru (but i will gladly have him too if u say so🙈), so blessed to have u as a reader, and please get some good sleep my love <33
eeeeeee 🫶🏼💕
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doomrichards · 1 year
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You've been trying to turn this ship into an ot3 since day one, and I will honestly never understand why you couldn't just do that on your own page and leave actual doomreed shippers alone. Instead, you claim to be one of us but share hateful memes where Sue "girlbosses" by bragging to Victor that she's going upstairs to "fuck her husband" and you really don't see anything wrong with that? Like, that's *funny* to you? Being nb doesn't mean you can't also have internalized homophobia.
This is my own page. Doomrichards is my own blog. I set my boundaries by blocking and muting you already. And by you I mean you, Hex, the moderator of the doomreed tumblr blog. Yes, I know those anons were you. You are the one dodging the block and bothering me in my own space by sending these harassing anons.
I have never shared nor posted that meme on the ship-centric @doomrichards tumblr or twitter. This can be confirmed by asking someone else to check the retweets on the DRS tweet posted to my general fandom twitter @reedvondoom https://twitter.com/reedvondoom/status/1566833240907857920?s=46&t=wdTQjz0Qi3FfrTSCYyUPeA
Again, it was a meme and joke shared between friends. I already tagged it on my general fandom account tweet accordingly for easy blacklisting.
I apologize for the hurt seeing that meme caused you. I already sat with the broken mutual follow you originally initiated for months last year and dealt with whatever processing I needed to do privately. I even voluntarily left your doomreed and fantastic four discords because I didn’t feel welcome.
I already spent time alone without creating any shipping content you may find offensive. I realized I had always gotten negative comments from you precisely like this, trying to talk me out of things I enjoy. I made the block mutual so you could also enjoy things you like without me.
Liking an OT3 is NOT mandatory and I never said it was. I am just trying to mind my own business which I have been for several months now. I will not let you control or manipulate what I post on my own space and my own blog. I made the block and mute mutual in order to give myself freedom to do what I like in fandom as a fun hobby. This personal attack on me is a step too far and I do not appreciate it. I will no longer be responding. Respect my space and the mutual block because I already have and will continue to do so.
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diaryofseraph · 1 year
Text
1/20
when i woke up, i decided to make breakfast for him, some eggs and cheese. and after i was done, i sat down and told him that we needed to talk. he looked fairly concerned as i said this, and i asked him to sit down on the couch.
and i told him mostly everything i was thinking of. that i felt hurt and worried when he made those comments last night. that i felt he would drop me instantly if she were alive and somehow back in arizona. that i still wanted to support him, but i was just really upset. and i didn’t know what to do. it was either have this conversation or just break up with him. and i didn’t want the latter.
he apologized twice, saying that he shouldn’t have said those things. he said that he was being overly melodramatic, trying to embellish things in writing a eulogy in his journal. he said that that she was the ‘avatar’ of that point in his life, representing a bright point in his adolescence. that she was a thread of his adolescence that continued to the present point until he found out she died. i asked him if he felt the same as i felt about him, and he said, ‘i do.’ to which i responded, ‘it really doesn’t feel like it.’
we ended up sitting there and talking for a while, and i decided to not go into the clinic because i would end up being late and emotionally i was not in a great place. i think he did genuinely seem sorry about what he said, and it seemed like he was really riding the high of the emotional wave when he came over, as he was crying the whole day before coming to my apartment and didn’t know who to go to, as no one that he thought of going to actually knew her. he said that in reality, he didn’t remember all that much about her, just the key moments. he didn’t even really remember the moment they met, even though he knew that it was during chinese school. he said that he really romanticized the past, and even in his relationship with ricca, he thought of his ex katie/katy in the same way he was doing to ricca at the moment. he said that he did see a future with me. he couldn’t imagine having kids with ricca, much less bringing her home to the mom. he also said that he didn’t want to break up, and it wasn’t his intention to break up with me when coming to my apartment on thursday. he mentioned that he felt detached from his body and relatively used up of emotion, and at the same time he felt that he experienced most of his grief and wanted to choose to be happy (but at the same time, he was not denying himself the experience of sadness, but rather he would rather choose to be happy rather than wallowing in the sadness). he seemed rather reflective -- he felt nostalgic about his past friends and wanted to reconnect with them, also regretting that he was “the friend that fell through the cracks” and ended up crystallizing himself in that office room in his mom’s house, just working away and not really going out to meet people and do things. he also said that he no longer wanted to be in phoenix, as it felt like everywhere he turned, there were crumbles of what were left. beforehand, when i mentioned the plausibility of him moving around with me for residency (many months ago), he felt a 60/40 of wanting to move elsewhere, but now it was more of a 90/10. 
he mentioned that discovering her death was similar to a “turning,” based off of the book “the fourth turning.” he would essentially enter the next phase/chapter of his life knowing this information. 
we ended up taking a walk through the city, exploring downtown. we stopped by harumi’s for sushi, and even saw david, even though he was busy. i learned more about ricca yet again, such as her being a part of the youth theater and him visiting downtown to see her perform, as her dad wasn’t able to make it at that time. we passed by the building, and even though i offered to pause so he could look at the building, he was content with just walking by. he also went through pictures of his past and showed me each of his college friends, explaining what each person was like and what each moment consisted of. 
again, i forget what exactly transpired when we got back, but i believe we took a nap or something, because when we came to, it was already 4-5pm. i found an email from our residential life staff at the apartment complex that there were open spots to the cooking class that night at 6pm, and i asked if he wanted to go, and to my surprise, he said yes.
the class was actually quite fun! we made charcuterie boards, and we were engaged the whole time. we even met two other couples who were living in the same building and floor as us. one of them was quite receptive to being friends, and the other was more aloof (which made me sad, because she was asian and was also from the bay area T.T). i was glad that he enjoyed it and seemed like he was having fun, and it was nice getting to work as a team to make something we could later enjoy. the wine they provided was a nice perk as well.
after bringing home the board, i partook in quite a bit of the vodka, which tasted as awful as it smelled. he took several swigs, but it didn’t seem to affect him in the same way that it did for me. i don’t remember much, but i do remember how he played guitar and pulled up some old songs on his phone to play. there was even a song he put on that he dedicated to me lmfao. and watching him, i felt my heart soften, even though i didn’t want to. we ended up cuddling and sleeping on the couch with music playing in the background.
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serialreblogger · 3 years
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You're getting into the Penumbra Podcast? Heck yeah, that's a fun time! Juno is so wildly relatable, what a lady. (Also, I've been trying to leave a comment on Ch 8 of Bitterest Gods, but brain no word good - I'll get there eventually. Very excited to see Galatea updating!!)
HECK YEAH IT'S A FUN TIME (also please do not worry about brainwords!! or comments!! i. feel u very much on both counts lol i currently have an uhh obscene number of unread comments in my inbox because, brain, words, but we'll get there. if ur enjoying reading that's more than enough for me!!)
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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years
Text
Little Hope
(Platonic SBI Famliy x child reader)
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Request 6: An imagine or Drabble about sbi family x reader where the reader is the newest adoptee to the family and it turns out they sleepwalk! They do random things like moving stuff around, talking to empty air, and can sometimes end up waking up nowhere near their bed. Just harmless shenanigans that might be spooky at first but are ultimately funny and endearing in a way. 
Requested By: @0melodydrifter0​ 
When Phil brought home a little girl wrapped in a blanket Wilbur was pissed, another child his father had adopted that Phil couldn’t take care of, another child that would end up being his and Techno’s duty to raise. However, something was different in his father’s eyes as he held the young girl close to his chest, 
     “Dad?” Wilbur murmured an eyebrow raised suspiciously high on his head, “What’s that?” He watched his father wince a little cradling the toddler closer to him, 
     “Wilbur...this is (Y/n). She’s going to be your new little sister.” Wilbur grits his teeth and felt rage flood through his veins again, not at the little one, no he couldn’t blame the child for his father’s savior complex. “An old friend of mine village was raided, he asked for my help but by the time I got there everyone was dead, everyone except her.” Phil moved some stray hair out from the kid’s eyes, “I couldn’t leave her for dead Wilbur.” Wilbur’s face softened a little bit, now wasn’t the time to argue with his father, especially since he had just lost a friend. 
      “Could I...see her?” He asked hesitantly as Phil knelt down beside one of his eldest, Wilbur noted the girl had flecks of (h/c) hair on her forehead, her face was covered in soot and ash, he noted she had the brightest (e/c) eyes he’s ever seen. She was quiet, very different from Tommy already, she reached up and touched the side of Wilbur’s cheek with a pudgy hand. The boy was done for after that, vowing up and down that he’d be the best big brother in the world to her even if it killed him. 
Much better than Tommy and Techno too. 
Speaking of the first time Tommy and Techno met you it was quite the experience. Tommy basked in the fact of no longer being the youngest member of the family and Techno was quick to remind him the being the middle child was far worse. Tommy had called him a bitch and Phil told him not to curse in front of his sister which he huffed at, swearing to Phil that her first word would be fuck. 
He got hit on the back of his head for that comment. 
Technoblade was indifferent about that situation, saying orphans were cringe and that you smelled bad, Wilbur was okay with both of these outcomes. As he stated earlier he was going to be the favorite brother whether you knew it or not.
By the time you were ten years old Wilbur’s wish had come true, you stuck by his side and were a quiet staple in his life. He also spoiled you rotten, he made you songs and snuck you cookies when Phil wasn’t looking, he’d do anything to see that smile a smile on your face. However, much to his displeasure it seemed that both Technoblade and Tommy were encroaching on his little happy bubble with his sister. 
It started with Technoblade, he noticed you following him around more often than not. At first, the hybrid was annoyed, he’d lock you out of his room and force you away by threatening to cut off your fingers if you didn’t leave him alone. However, that only made you cry and it made Techno panic if Phil heard you crying he’d be a dead man, and if Wilbur heard he’d be double dead. He began to try to hush you frantically, you didn’t calm down until he stated he would hang out with you a little longer. It shut you up immediately, oh you were a sneaky little shit, he could respect that. He decided he read to you if that was alright, you nodded eagerly, and he carried you into his room. You were a kid of few words and Technoblade could respect that, he pulled out a story about some of the ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses. Figuring the Art of War was probably too much for a ten-year-old, surprisingly he enjoyed himself. You were eager to learn and enjoyed the stories way more than he thought you would, okay maybe you bonded just a little. He had taken to calling you Moirai the greek goddess of destiny, not only that but Technoblade had started bringing you gifts from his adventures, something he never did for anyone else.
Therefore Wilbur was feeling VERY threatened and Technoblade LOVED it. 
However, while the both of them were having their little pissing contest they didn’t notice their younger brother swooping in to join the fight for your attention. As the eldest were at war with themselves, Tommy had taken to sneaking you out of the house to cause trouble by his side. After all, no sister of his was going to be boring like Wilbur and Technoblade, she was going to be as awesome as he was if he had anything to say about it. So when he snuck you out one night against their wishes when they were too busy to notice he decided to take full advantage of that opportunity. He adored hearing your enthusiastic giggles as he tore through the forest with you on his shoulders. 
You were typically a very quiet child, so to hear you laugh because of him made Tommy preen with delight. Your fingers were twisted in his blonde locks as you steered him like a horse, it hurt like hell but so long as it kept you steady he really didn’t mind. 
The joy didn’t last long because Wilbur and Technoblade had found them not soon after he escaped their clutches. Techno plucked you off his shoulders and held you in his arms, you let out a little whine of disappointment and Tommy frowned,
     “Oh come on Technoblade don’t be an asshole!” 
     “Don’t curse in front of (Y/n), Tommy.” Wilbur hissed hitting him on the back of his head, “you can’t just run off with her it’s dangerous!”
     “I can protect her just fine you bitch!” 
     “Oh please, you can barely protect yourself.” Technoblade scoffed as you began to play with his pink hair, hating the tense atmosphere. Tommy snarled at his brother and moved to punch him in the chest but Techno was quick to sidestep them, “nice one genius.” 
     “FUCK OFF!”
You let out a displeased whine and covered your ears at the volume Tommy shouted, 
      “Shut up Tommy,” Wilbur hissed “You’re way too loud and you’re upsetting her.”
     “WE WERE HAVING A LOVELY TIME UNTIL YOU FUCKERS RUINED IT!” 
     “Tom-Tom please shush,” You pressed a finger to your mouth in distress, mimicking a hushing movement. His face faltered, his voice lowering in volume as he apologized softly towards you. “Thank you,” a big smile spread across your lips, and all three brothers visibly relaxed.
     “Alright little one,” Wilbur spoke tenderly running a hand through your hair his heart-melting a little as you nuzzled against it. “Let’s get you home, it’s way past your bedtime.” You groaned in distaste falling against Techno’s shoulder with a soft thud, the man chuckled softly as all three brothers walked back home. 
It was about two months after that when your happy facade came crashing down around you, it had been a particularly rough day. Everyone seemed to be busy with one thing or another and you were left to your own devices and thoughts. They all came rushing back to you, the memories of the day your village got raided and your bio parents passed away. Wilbur was the first to notice something was wrong and had asked Phil to check up on you, so when Phil finally got around to ask what was wrong you burst into tears. That’s when they discovered you apparently remembered more of the incident than you let on. It broke their hearts to see you so upset over something you had no control over, but like everyone else in their family of misfits, you blamed yourself for simply surviving the tragedy. 
They had made sure to coddle you the rest of the day, Technoblade had made sure to make you your favorite food for dinner. Phil and Wilbur tried to keep you busy with music and potion brewing and Tommy played some discs to help you fall asleep. You did so smiling and his heart soared, point to Tommy for getting you to fall asleep with a smile. 
Your found family had gathered that night to discuss what they should do with you moving forward. Phil had declared they all do their best to keep you distracted the next few days, preferably in shifts if that was needed. Wilbur offered to spend the morning with you, he wanted to visit Niki and Sally and both of them loved you if anyone would cheer you up they would. Tommy offered the afternoon and he could bring Tubbo over and you all could play soldiers, Techno said he’d handle the nights with Phil. 
Everyone settled into bed to get a much-needed rest, out of all the brothers Technoblade was the lightest sleeper. So when he woke up in a cold sweat with you standing over his bed he almost shit himself. You had a glassy look in your (e/c) eyes, 
     “(Y/n)? What are you doing? Do you know how late it is?” Technoblade scolded reaching out to grab his glasses, you didn’t respond to him which made his nose scrunch up. “Did you have a nightmare?” His voice got quieter as he reached out to cup your cheek, still no response from you. “Kid?” He sat up as you turned away from him to wander back out the door, “what just happened?” He murmured scratching under his chin, he’d have to bring this up tomorrow. 
Wilbur was concerned and immediately wanted to seek a doctor, especially because you had no remembrance of the event. Phil ran a hand through his hair in thought, “could it be sleepwalking?” 
     “(Y/n)’s too cool to sleepwalk. What the fuck do you mean?” Tommy scoffed and you frowned eyebrows furrowing together. 
     “Well it makes sense, doesn’t it? She doesn’t remember walking around but it clearly happened. Hopefully, it was only a one-off occurrence and she’ll never do it again.”
      “Is it bad if I do?” You whispered shuffling on your feet suddenly self-conscious, “Tommy doesn’t seem to think it’s good.” They all glared at the teenager who winced and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Phil knelt down in front of you and cupped your cheeks with his hands, 
     “It’s not bad. We just have to take some extra precautions for you is all, it’s perfectly normal especially after the trauma you went through.” You bit your lip and nodded within his hands, “Tommy’s an idiot-”
      “Hey!-
      “That doesn’t make you any less of a person and it doesn’t make you any more abnormal either,” Phil assured as Techno began snickering behind him, he turned his head to shoot him a look.
     “What? It’s just funny assuring her she’s normal when no one in this house is normal.” Technoblade waved his hand, “we’re all a bunch of misfits- don’t give me that look you know it’s true. Half of us are hybrids and the other half are gremlins,” He motioned to Tommy again who made an indigent sound tired of being the butt of everyone’s teasing. “So she’s never gonna be normal, but she’s always gonna be one of us and we’ll kill anyone who even thinks about teasing her.” 
Phil smiled sheepishly sweat gathering on his brow, “Let’s not kill anyone Techno at least not now. Especially if they’re children.”
     “Now, now dad, Technoblade has a point.”
     “Wilbur.” Phil scolded as Tommy’s face lit up, 
     “Can I punch a child?” You burst into laughter at Phil’s horrified expression, 
     “No Tommy. No, you cannot!” 
     “It’s okay papa I give them explicit permission to beat anyone up who fucks with me!” You shouted and Tommy’s face once again lit up, he grabbed you out of Phil’s arms and held you close. 
     “You said Fuck! I’m so proud I’m teaching you so well!” He spun you around only causing you to laugh harder as the older members of your family glared at Tommy, “Now say it again!”
Wilbur plucked you from Tommy’s arms glaring at his brother, “No. No, she won’t say it again. That’s a bad word you can’t say it till you’re older.” A pout settled on your lips as you crossed your arms in frustration. 
     “But Tommy gets to say it all the time.” 
     “And he’s older.” Phil let out a chuckle at Wilbur's response watching you slump forward with a loud groan of absolute torment. 
You didn’t sleepwalk again until a few months later, everyone had relatively assumed it was a one-off occurrence and their watchful eye was lifted. In the meantime Tommy had started to maybe sort of sneak out; he had his bag all packed and planned to meet Tubbo in the park. They both wanted to go monster hunting on their own, it wasn’t their first rodeo but it still wasn’t something he was supposed to do without his dad's permission.
Tommy didn’t give a shit about permission though. 
Obviously. 
He grabbed his sword from its place in the living room, Tommy held it up with a wicked smile. It shone in the dim light and he could see the reflection of his face inside it, it must’ve been freshly polished. Tommy put his sword in its holster and turned around, immediately letting out a startled yelp slapping his hands over his mouth. You were standing behind him eyes glassy as you blinked blearily at him, 
     “(Y/n)?” Tommy whisper hissed glaring at you harshly, “What the fuck are you doing awake?” You didn’t respond, only walking past him reaching for a sword of your own, his eyes widened frantically and steered you away from the sharp weaponry. “Are you sleepwalking?” Tommy asked in mild concern before a smirk came across his face, “Guess I don’t have to worry about you snitching huh?” He slowly led you into Phil’s room opening the door and shoving you in before shutting the door. Tommy made quick work of grabbing everything else needed before heading out of the house to meet up with Tubbo. 
Phil woke up to you standing over him, looming, and it almost sent him into a heart attack. He knew immediately you were sleepwalking, “Oh honey...come ‘ere.” He pulled you into bed with him and watched your eyes drift close and snuggle up to him. At least you were safe with him, so long as you didn’t start unlocking doors and injuring yourself they could handle this. 
After telling the other brothers about the incident last night Wilbur was only growing more concerned about your sleep state. He offered to take you to the doctor but Phil brushed him off, saying that normally this thing sorts themself out on their own. Since he was feeling rather protective Wilbur slept in the living room the next few nights just to make sure you didn’t go wandering off. Plus, Phil seemed to not only approve of but also grateful for the idea; so long as the old man could get much-needed rest he didn’t seem to care. Another week flew by with no problems, and he decided to spend one last night in the living room just to triple-check you weren’t going to sleepwalk. 
He woke up to the sound of a hooting owl and soft banging against the wall, he tossed his hand over the back of the couch and he blinked blearily. Unlike his twin, he didn’t exactly have the razor-sharp reflexes that Technoblade was gifted with. Wilbur grabbed his glasses from the coffee table and shoved them on his face haphazardly. 
What was that noise? Did Tommy sneak out again? He turned towards the opened door and it took a few moments to process why the door was open. Wilbur scratched the top of his head in confusion before his eyes snapped open in blatant realization. He tossed the blankets off the couch and scrambled out the door. Bare footprints were made in the mud leading away from your house, tiny you sized footprints. 
Oh, he was so fucked. How long ago did you leave? Are you alright? It’s so cold and you weren’t wearing shoes.
Wilbur made sure to grab both of your jackets and shoved his feet in his boots before heading out the door. He saw his breath out in front of him and winced you must be so cold, hopefully, you weren’t dead if you were he was totally in big trouble. He followed your footprints until they stopped at the edge of the woods, he looked around frantically and anxiety prickled at his skin. If the trail went cold here there was no way he would be able to find you, what if you woke up in a completely different part of the SMP. Or worse yet what if someone kidnaps you and takes you away from them? 
He entered the woods calling out your name desperately even though you wouldn’t respond if you were still asleep. Wilbur adjusted his glasses noticing a soft trail of broken leaves, he decided it was his best bet to follow them. Eventually, he came to a bit of a clearing in the woods that led up to a large cliff, Wilbur’s heart sunk. He felt his breathing stop as he walked towards the edge of the cliff, slowly like he didn’t want to know if he thinks what happened to you, happened to you. At the very top of the cliff is when he saw it, the bracelet you always wore on your wrist it was made of gold and Technoblade had gifted it to you after an adventure he had with Phil. He pulled the jewelry close to his chest and let out a shaky breath, tears swelled in his eyes as he peeked over the edge of the cliff. The poor boy couldn’t even see the bottom, Phil would have to fly down and search it, he was going to throw up. 
     “Wilby…?” 
Oh god, he could still hear your sweet, little voice. 
     “What are you doing? Are you crying?”
Wait, that was your voice!
He whipped around to find you rubbing your tired eyes, your feet were bare and you were shivering. Wilbur tore through the bush and scooped you up in his arms, cuddling you close to him as he peppered kisses all over your face. “Ewww Wilby stop!” You said through giggles pushing his face away from your own, 
     “I’m so glad you’re alright. You were sleepwalking again, I thought…” His voice cracked a little as you tilted your head. You looked around his shoulder and eyed the cliff wearily, you nuzzled against his neck and squeezed him tightly. 
     “I’m sorry…” 
     “It’s not your fault.” He whispered against you, “let's get you home though alright? Want to have a sleepover with me?”
     “Please. I’m scared I’ll wander off if I sleep alone again.” Wilbur nodded, running his fingers through your messy hair. For a girl your age, it was important to make sure you get a good night's sleep. As he carried you back home you ended up falling back asleep in his arms, he had a lot of time to think. He couldn’t believe that a few years ago he had despised the girl in his arms, thought of you as just another stowaway Phil brought home. You had managed to melt his heart and worm your way into not just his brain but his other brother’s brains as well. You had brought so much joy and happiness into their lives. Before you entered their lives there was arguing every night. Tommy and Techno were always at each other’s throats, Wilbur wasn’t any better, to be honest, but then you were there and everything changed. They had to get along and watch their language around you, you weirdly brought them together. Made them better and he couldn’t imagine what their lives would be like without their little hope.
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aquamarinescarlet · 3 years
Text
Don’t give up just yet
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word count: ~3.6k
Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)
Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.
Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.
PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.
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“You should call her, y’know.”
“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”
“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”
You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.
“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”
“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”
Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall. 
Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.
The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.
Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.
You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there. 
First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.
Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.
Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings… 
It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired. 
You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’
Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it. 
After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t. 
It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.
You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.
As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.
Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it. 
You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all. 
Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.
The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.
You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems. 
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“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.” 
“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.
“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.
“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch. 
“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.
“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer. 
Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile. 
“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.” 
“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.” 
“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing. 
Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.
She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.
Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her. 
Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?
She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.
Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.
She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.
After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate. 
Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did. 
Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again… 
When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?
The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.
And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.
Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?
She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.
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Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.
But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like. 
You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.
You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.
The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.
You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.
“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.
Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.
“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!” 
You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.
“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.
“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”
“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.
“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you. 
She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up. 
It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.
Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.
You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.
You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.
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One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be. 
She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 
None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.
And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all. 
It still seemed weird though. Like something was off. 
“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”
“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.
It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.
“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe. 
“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.
Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.
The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.
It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.
After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.
Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet? 
She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?
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Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology. 
You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.
That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.
Two voicemails. 
From none other than Isaac. 
It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.
Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.
The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.
The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?
Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.
It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.
“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.
A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.
“How can I help?”
“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.
“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.
Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.
“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.
“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket. 
It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.
The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.
You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.
You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.
“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless. 
The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.
Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.
You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.
“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.
You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.
“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.
Those words. 
Her looking at her wrist.
Your’s burning now.
You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.
“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”
739 notes · View notes
writer-in-theory · 2 years
Text
Stay Stay Stay (Spencer Reid x Reader)
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summary: reader is known to be a flight risk. when their relationship gets too serious, they unconsciously try to push spencer away. he doesn't let them. series summary: a series of oneshots to celebrate the release of red (taylor's version). 19 songs, 19 fics. pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader category: hurt/comfort content warnings: language, mentions of past bad relationships, mentions of blood (but like...metaphorically?), reader has commitment issues/insecurities word count: 3.5k a/n: whew, i had fun writing this one. i wanted to go with a bit of a different writing style so apologies for it taking a little longer. we’re officially halfway through this series! i genuinely didn’t think it would get this far, so thank you so much for all of the love and support you’ve given me. i haven’t responded to everyone, but just know basically every comment or every set of tags you add makes me tear up a little, and i’m not exaggerating bc i’m a complete sap like that. also huge thank you to everyone who helped fix the last scene. it literally would not have gotten fixed and posted without the help of other cm writers, so seriously, thank you. i was really struggling with this one and i ended up being really proud of it, so thanks and i can't wait for y'all to read it 💜
series masterlist masterlist send me a request!
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“I love you because you have given me no choice but to..."
It has been two weeks and five days since you first began your quest to make Spencer Reid break up with you.
It was his fault, in your humble opinion. If only he hadn’t said those words, then you wouldn’t now be sitting in his apartment trying desperately not to wash the dirtied mug you were going to leave in the sink. It was those beautiful words, the ones you’d only heard before on lips tainted with the drying blood of other heartbreaks, that led you to now.
The others had said it bluntly, repeating it against your skin as many times as it would take to tattoo the words into your heart. ‘I love you, can’t you see? This is love’ they echoed, teeth dripping from the blood of other people they’d torn apart before they got to you.
Spencer had been soft, sitting on your couch beside you and holding your hands as if they were first edition copies of classic books. The glassy look in his amber eyes had scared you, making you wonder if this was the moment you’d been waiting months for. This would be the moment Spencer realized you were too poisoned by your exes to be with someone so gentle, so loving. Instead, he’d said the words you used to hate in a way only he knew how. “Move in with me.”
If the words were a bandage, then you were the injured animal too scared to allow them to wrap around its most damaged parts. You sat there, hands growing cold in his as you waited for the rest of it, the stipulation that had to be coming.
It never did though. While you hadn’t told him the exact nature of your previous heartbreaks, the marks were left clear enough on you. It was worse when you found out he was a profiler, able to read into the darkest depths of you with one look. Where once that fact had scared you, eventually you came to appreciate the way you could get away with not explaining your thoughts to him. It was like he already knew.
Except in that moment, because you were panicking and he was still giving you those doe eyes. ‘Move in with me.’ Spencer had no plans of walking away from you but rather wanted to hold you closer regardless of the reactive scratches he might receive in return.
He did just that, squeezing your hands once before adding, “You don’t have to answer that now. Wait until you’re ready.” The first hour after the conversation, you waited on tensed feet for it to come up again. The two of you had curled up on the couch in your usual fashion: both of you leaning back against the armrests and entangling your legs together in the middle. It was peaceful as the two of you worked on your own things in domestic silence. Spencer was reading a book as quickly as he had when you first met him, the day you’d called him out for skimming instead of actually reading the damn thing. He’d proved you wrong, of course, but it was still hard to believe anyone could read so fast. Every time he shifted, though, your shoulder tensed, eyes flicking up from your own work in search of the reason for the movement. You half expected him to part his lips, to ask if you’d thought more on the subject. He only surprised you again by giving you one of those small, sweet smiles you’d come to adore.
It wasn’t fair, the way Spencer could make you feel so special with a single look. It wasn’t fair that he could love you so uninhibited and all you had to give in return was mind-numbing fear over it all. You wanted out. The feeling crawled up your spine and settled into the back of your neck, curling around the knot of nerves there. What could you give him now, except more pain? What would happen to you if everything ended when you finally trusted yourself to fall again? No, you weren’t ready and Spencer deserved someone who was.
You peeked your eyes over your work, watching the way Spencer focused on his book. His feet were so entangled within your legs that you were sure they must have gone numb by now. One long finger drifted down each page as he read, the other hand dutifully holding the book open to the proper page. His neck was bent at an angle you knew had to be uncomfortable—you sometimes rubbed at that spot on his upper back, trying to relieve the tension built up there from such positions. Hair that was normally well-groomed now hung into his face with no signs of ever being pushed back. Spencer’s face was twisted up adorably in the way it only did when he was fully engrossed in something. Eyes narrowed, eyebrows pinched together, and lips slightly parted with a small peek of his tongue. Spencer was beautiful in every sense of the word, giving off the air of pure goodness.
You tried to imagine the words you’d thought before. Tapping at his ankle to grab his attention, his amber eyes would drift up to yours and would immediately light up. That small smile would be back, the one he couldn’t help but give when he looked upon you. He’d tilt his head a little, scrunch his nose once, twice, as he tried to read your face. The smile would drop as he read the news. His now open body would curl inward, away from you in an attempt to protect himself from your sharp claws.
No, you refused to break Spencer’s heart like that. You couldn’t walk away from this with his heartbreak dripping from your lips, knowing you’d left an irreparable scar on his gentle heart. You could take the pain, though, that much had been proven time and time again. What was one more wound to nurture, if only you saw it coming.
You would see this one coming from a mile away because you’d be steering straight for the divider.
It started simply; you picked out little things that after months of dating you knew would bother Spencer. Where once you would wash out your coffee mug right away before leaving his apartment for the day, you’d let it sit in the sink unrinsed. If you two were on a time crunch, you’d make sure to be just a minute slower than he’d like.
“Y/N, we’re going to be late,” Spencer protested from the front door of your apartment, already dressed up and ready.
You were ready too, locked in your bedroom and staring at your watch until the time ticked two minutes past the time he’d said he wanted to leave. “I’m coming, I promise!” you called, figuring tonight would be the night it happened.
The two of you were going to an outing with his team. It wasn’t often he brought you around them, still learning to be more open about his life with the people he considered a second family. Each time, you would watch as the nerves grew throughout the day. His shoulders would tighten and he’d start fidgeting a little more than normal. It would be harder for him to meet your gaze, too, usually looking just to the right or left of your face.
Being fashionably late was not something Spencer Reid did. He always got up at an ungodly hour of the morning just so he’d be half an hour early to the office, stating it wasn’t possible to be too early. Honestly, you were under the same belief that being on time for something was being late, but you would fight back the nerves if it meant ending this torture.
Because that’s what this all was: torture. You knew the end would come eventually; Spencer would get tired of your annoyances and would lash out, telling you he no longer wanted to live with you. Still, every time you did something you’d see the brief flash of irritation in his eyes before he’d look on you fondly as if he were amused by what was happening.
Even now, though the undercurrent of anxiety flooded through his body, Spencer was looking at you with those same bright eyes, head tilted and a full-blown smile pressed onto his face. “You’re stunning,” he spoke, and his eyes widened a little as if he hadn’t actually expected himself to say it.
It nearly broke your heart, the willingness he had to forgive you for all of your repeated transgressions. Each one, he took on without a single falter in his step, constantly giving you that same, warm look that once brought a smile to your face but now only filled you with hurt. It hurt because you never wanted Spencer to stop looking at you like that; it hurt because you knew he deserved to be looked at with the same expression.
When small annoyances didn’t work, you knew it was time to up your game.
The morning of the day it all fell apart, you woke up intent on pushing him away. So when Spencer reached over to cuddle you closer in bed, you squirmed your way out of his grip and stood up. You walked right into the bathroom so you wouldn’t have to see the hurt expression wash over his face.
“I was thinking we could go to that coffee shop you love, the one that never puts enough syrup in my drink,” Spencer suggested when you’d returned. You turned instead to the dresser, where months ago he’d rearranged his belongings so you could have a drawer of your own. It was better to stare at the few clothing choices you had here rather than the hopeful look in his eyes. This was always his suggestion when you were having a bad day and when he wanted to cheer you up.
It wasn’t fair, how you continuously tried to push him away while Spencer only seemed to hold you tighter.
“I can’t,” you answered shortly, glad he couldn’t see the way you winced at your harsh tone. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the way he’d react; flinching at the sharp refusal of his peace offering.
“I thought you had today off?”
“I do,” you confirmed, finally turning to look at him when you were sure you could keep a neutral expression, “I need some time alone.”
“Is everything okay?” Spencer’s voice had fallen, grown smaller and more unsure. It pulled at every fiber of your body, urging you to run over and reassure him that he was the best thing to ever happen to you.
Instead, you shrugged and said, “Of course, Spencer. I just need some time to myself, is that so hard to imagine?”
“No, I just thought...” There was nothing you hated more than the way he curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his middle as he sat in the bed you two had just shared. You’d always protected him, standing up against the people who made him feel smaller than. You would see the way he’d curl in to defend himself, and you’d show him that he didn’t have to, not while he had you by his side. Now, you were fighting every protective instinct in you, curling your fingers into the sides of your pants as you caused that reaction from him. “Never mind.”
“Okay. I’m gonna go then, call if you need anything,” you told him, spinning on your heels to leave.
“I love you,” Spencer called, his voice more sure than it had been all morning.
For the first time, you didn’t answer those words.
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It was nearly midnight when Spencer called you. The man wasn’t particularly fond of modern technology, only using it to communicate when he absolutely needed to. His calling you was a sign of the end, you knew it deep in your chest.
“Can we talk?” Spencer asked as soon as you answered the call, not bothering with any pleasantries. Any other time, you might’ve smiled at the bluntness of it, but now your heart sunk as you realized what was happening. “I need to talk to you, we need to talk, please.” We need to talk.
You’d accomplished your goal of setting up the breakup, and yet you didn’t feel an ounce of victory. Instead, your body felt leaden with weights, ready to be plunged into the Potomac and left to deal with the repercussions of your recent sins.
“Yeah, I’ll be over soon,” you told him, moving on autopilot to change out of your pajamas. How did you dress for a breakup? It felt a little like planning a funeral, you already mourning the loss of the most beautiful thing to happen to you in years. You’d didn’t see Spencer coming until it was too late, until after he’d found a home in your heart.
You didn’t want it to be over so soon but knew it would be better for him if it was. So you drove to his apartment, trying to fight the tears that kept welling up in your eyes. You had to stay strong, at least until you were out of his apartment. If you cried, you weren’t sure Spencer would go through with the breakup.
Except when you got to his apartment, it was clear that breaking up with you wasn’t Spencer’s intention. The man was standing in the middle of his cluttered living space, looking little more than a lost kid with his arms wrapped around his middle as if to protect his most vulnerable spots. His honeyed eyes were rimmed red and swollen, cheeks shining a little in tracks from his eyes to his chin. His shoulders were shaking, and G-d, you could suddenly taste the shredded remains of his heart on the teeth you used to rip out the pieces.
“I need to know what I did,” Spencer whispered, and yet the sound reverberated around the apartment as though he’d screamed it.
“What are you talking about?” you tried, wanting to step closer but knowing doing so would only hurt both of you more. “You haven’t done anything.”
“There has to be something, you’ve been different for weeks now,” Spencer practically pleaded and you turned your head, unable to watch the destruction you’d caused. “I can fix it, whatever it was I can make it better. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
And that was the final nail. The apology for something you had caused flipped a switch. How could one person be this soft, so willing to take the blame when it was so clear it had been your problem to start with? Spencer had to know you were intentionally hurting him, and still, he was staring there bleeding and apologizing for the wounds.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair at all, so you gripped your hair as tightly as you could, tugging a little as if that would release the frustration. When it didn’t, you let out an angry groan, tensed hands gesturing in the hair to release some of the energy flooding your body. This wasn’t what you wanted. You hadn’t wanted to hurt Spencer like this, you’d wanted him to stop wanting you.
“Why can’t you just hate me?” you finally screamed, voice rough from every emotion you’d been hiding escaping through those five words. “You’re supposed to hate me, Spencer!”
“Why would I do that?” And you hadn’t known Spencer could sound more anguished than he did before, but now he managed, face twisted in worry and hurt.
“I’ve been hurting you, Spencer! For two weeks I’ve been doing everything I knew would bother you, and you still just kept on loving me! How can you keep doing that?”
“You’re my happiness, Y/N. I’ve never loved someone like I’ve loved you.”
“No! No, Spencer, you can’t say that!” you shouted, feeling the tears burn down your cheeks. It wasn’t meant to happen like this. Why couldn’t he hate you? Why couldn’t he be standing there, hurling obscenities and disparaging words at you? Why was he still so intent on keeping you? “You have to be mad at me.”
“I don’t understand,” Spencer continued to plead, now taking a few steps closer to you when you didn’t move. “Tell me what’s happening, Y/N, I need to know so I can fix it.”
“You can fix it by fucking breaking up with me!”
The silence was punctuated only by your heavy breaths, one hand gripped tight to your chest to steady yourself. You’d like to think you knew Spencer’s body language by now. You weren’t a profiler, but you’d spent months of your life with this man, and that had to have taught you something. Still, you stood in front of him now and had absolutely no idea what he was thinking, and that scared you more than anything else.
“You want to break up with me?” When his voice cracked over the words, what little was left of Spencer’s resolve broke. His face crumpled, eyes shifting down to stare at his socked feet. The brightly-colored mismatched socks seemed out of place for such a grim conversation.
His heartbreak tasted bitter on your lips. You wanted to spit it out, to walk away and never think about this again. You wanted to stay, to hold him and promise him you would never love anyone else as you loved him.
“No,” you sobbed, shoulders jerking forward as your body wracked with the admission. It wasn’t fair at all.
“Talk to me, Y/N,” Spencer spoke, softly over his own tears. In times of stress, he was often uncomfortable with physical touch. It was something that had been a hurdle at first, but slowly you two learned how to exist with each other in a way that comforted you both. Now though, he was grabbing your hand with one of his, the other reaching up to gently push your chin upward to look at him. Spencer’s expression was riddled with hurt and betrayal, but his eyes still shone brightly with the love and fondness he held for you. “Help me understand, please.”
“I’m scared.” It reminded you of when you were five and heard your first tornado siren. You’d hunkered down in the basement with your family, watching the news even though you really wanted to watch cartoons. You had never seen your parents so stressed; the two figures who were untouchable in your eyes suddenly were as vulnerable as you.
Instead of pushing Spencer away, you’d pressed all of your insecurities into his chest, forcing him to take on the vulnerability you hadn’t wanted. You would reach in and take it back now, wanting desperately to wash away the darkness you knew had tainted his brightness.
“I’m scared of the way I love you, Spencer,” and once those words were out, the rest came out in a downpour. “I’m scared of moving in with you because I’ve been dreaming about it for months. I’m scared to love you because it will absolutely break me if you leave.”
Your lower lip quivered, salty tears clinging wetting it. Spencer didn’t move for a moment, and then he did the oddest thing: he laughed. It was wet with his tears and a little manic sounding, but he was smiling and his eyes were shining again.
“I don’t-” you tried vocalizing your confusion. You’d poured your heart out to Spencer, admitted you were hurting him because you loved him, and he was laughing.
“It would hurt you if I left, so you tried to get me to leave?” Spencer clarified, and your cheeks heated up red as he put your plan into such blatant terms.
“Well, it sounds a little silly now that you put it like that,” you admitted, shrugging a little and looking off to the side.
“It’s absolutely ridiculous,” Spencer corrected, but when you looked at him that same fondness was back in his eyes. He still loved you. “I love you, Y/N, and I promise to stay.”
There was so much fear still. It clung to your deepest parts and promised to never leave, whispering words of past people who had said those three words before. Love leads to loss.
No one had promised to stay though. No one but Spencer, who still looked a little unsure but was acting brave anyway because he knew that was what you needed. Spencer, who was holding his heart out to you and begging you not to break it. Spencer, who already held yours and never showed any signs of crushing it, even if you hadn’t realized it before.
So you would take the leap. You’d reach out to hold Spencer close, squeezing him as if to say, ‘never again.’ He was trusting you to love him right in the way you were finally ready for, so you’d tell him in the only way you knew how.
“I promise to stay.”
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SERIES TAGLIST
@samuel-de-champagne-problems @alexlovescriminalminds @reidsbookclub @givemeth @eurydice-but-gay @fightingdragonswithreid @girloncorneliastreet @silverhetdanes @just-a-human-witha-pen @shemarmooresfedora @rexorangecouny
221 notes · View notes
tsvkishma · 3 years
Text
you wanna kiss me so bad, huh?
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series: my hero academia / boku no hero academia
pairings: katsuki bakugo x reader
length: 5k words
warnings: swearing, mentions of making out (w/ a minor), breach of privacy??
tags: secret relationship, enemies to lovers, high school AU, reader-insert
summary: the mutual agreement between you and your bf to keep your relationship on the DL is about to be ruined when he makes the stupid mistake to leave his phone on the table for the whole class to see
author’s note: i’m so sorry! i really tried to make it gender neutral, but it was female leaning... i apologize! i’m still pretty new to writing dis homie so please be lenient when it comes to character accuracy lol. i also apologize for the messy, unstructured writing. also thank u to bae @izvkos for proofreading!
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Just as you were getting ready to doze off, the school bell rang, startling you and making you jerk up from your comfortable position on the desk with your head in your arms. Some of your classmates got up to stretch, since it was the break time between classes. Unfortunately, it had only been the end of third period and you had a long school day to go through. You let out a low groan of disappointment. I guess I’ll have to keep myself awake just a little bit longer.
To be honest, you didn’t mean to stay up all night... it was just that you couldn’t help binge-watching your favorite show last night. You convinced yourself that you were only going to watch one episode before you went to sleep... then one lead to two... then three... and then before you knew it, the birds started chirping. But, hey! It wasn’t your fault that it was so addicting!
“Oi.”
You look up to see Bakugo peering over you with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face, “Tch, you don’t look so good today. Didn’t get enough sleep? How are you gonna be a pro hero with those bad habits of yours?”
You scoffed, “Oh, fuck off. Sorry I don’t go to sleep at 8 every night… grandpa.”
“Yeah, yeah. Make fun of me all you want, but who’s gonna be laughing when you fail your exams next week. I see you dozing off in class, you act like Aizawa-sensei doesn’t even notice,” Bakugo grunts.
You coo, “Awe, is blasty-boy watching me during class? I didn’t know you were this deeply in love with me! So cute.”
His face went red for a moment before his usual angry expression returned, “I DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU DAMMIT! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR STUPID CRAP LIKE THAT!”
“Y/n! Stop teasing Bakugo like that! You know he can’t handle it...” Mina chimed in, joining the fun.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN’T HANDLE IT?! ” screamed Bakugo.
“Quiet down back there.,” threatened Cementoss as he entered the class to prepare his next lesson.
You and Mina were just laughing at your classmate screaming his head off, it was always an amusing sight if anything. Even though Bakugo denies having a crush on you, it wasn’t true. And you knew that. He had a fat crush on you, but it was more than that! He was your boyfriend.
You guys had kept your relationship on the down-low for about a month now, your relationship only became official about a week ago, but you guys had been going on dates prior. Bakugo wanted to keep your relationship a secret, you know, to protect his ego or whatever since there has always been a rivalry between the two of you and everyone in Class 1-A was painfully aware of it. He was too proud to let anyone know that he fell for someone he once vouched as his enemy.
-
There was always constant bickering between the two of you. Whether it be something minute or something that you would argue over for a couple of days. It’s not like the arguments were unintentional because they were started just to spite the other. Bickering would start about each other’s fighting technique in battle or even accusing the other of stealing their food from the shared fridge in the dorms.
The rest of your class was so sick and tired of the ongoing feud so one day, they set out a plan (led by Kaminari and Kirishima) to lock you two in a room just to sort out your differences. They set a date where they would trick you two into thinking that there was a class activity that everyone had to attend, but it would just be you two to show up and you would smash the beef between you two, and BOOM! Problem solved.
Just as the day came for the plan, something was weirdly off about you two. The morning of, you two both came into class at the same time and it was dead silent between you two. No bickering, no petty comments, and no evil stares. As more and more people were arriving, they would immediately notice the weird tension in the air. It was strangely quiet, not just because you and Bakugo were silent, but because everyone else was too. The thought of you guys not constantly at each other’s necks that morning sort of put off the rest of the class. It felt weird to talk over the dead silence when they were so used to your guys’ voices as ambiance while they were in conversation.
As the day went on, nothing changed and you guys were still silent and ignoring each other. Obviously, everyone was suspicious about what exactly happened between you two to make you ignore one another. There was no way that you guys were angry at each other because when you were, both of you made it clear by arguing and yelling loudly.
However, before anyone had the chance to ask why you guys were so quiet,  Bakugo decided to approach you for the first time between class periods. At this point, the class was back to normal and having regular conversations with one another during break time, but all of their eyes were on you two, and their voices hushed to pay attention to the tense interaction shared between you two.
“Oi. Let’s talk,” said Bakugo bluntly.
You looked up at his crimson red eyes for a second before looking away as if his presence wasn’t even there. At this point, you didn’t know what to say to him, yet. This fired up Bakugo because within a second he started yelling again.
“HEY DUMBASS! YOU DON’T GET TO IGNORE ME LIKE THAT!” he screamed.
You turned to meet his glare annoyed, “Oh, shut the fuck up. I don’t owe you shit. Leave me alone.”
He tested, “The fuck did you say to me, idiot?!”
“Fuck off, dipshit, all you ever wanna do is yell! And might I add- you do it loudly. Are you such a fucking grandpa that you can’t even hear yourself speak? Can you ever jjust shut. the. fuck. UP!” you yelled back.
The arguing continued and the rest of Class 1-A continued with their previous conversations after seeing you guys back to normal. The tension between you guys soon left their minds as they continued with the rest of their day. Unbeknownst to them, the night before you two were arguing like usual in the kitchen area of the dorms before Bakugo made his first move on you.
-
The argument started with you getting angry at Bakugo for making a mess on the counter after spilling some of his water. It was late at night and no one else was around and you two happened to wake up around the same time to get a drink of water.
“You idiot, clean up your fucking mess. You spilled it all over the counter,” you said as you gestured to the spilled water.
“Tch. I didn’t spill shit. If it bothers you so much, why don’t you go clean it up yourself?” he groaned as he leaned against the counter.
Appalled, you grabbed the roll of paper towels and threw it at his head. He was caught off guard as the roll of paper hit his forehead. It fell and rolled out onto the floor. Now, he was truly annoyed.
“Fuck was that for, huh?!” he said staring at you, smoke practically coming out of his ears.
You laughed, “Just giving you a hand since it seemed like you were too fucking lazy to grab the paper towels yourself. Seems like the grandpa’s getting too old to do stuff for himself, boohoo.”
He growled, rage evident in his face. You laughed to yourself looking away from his face. The next thing you knew, he grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you against the fridge behind you. You were pinned by his big, rough hands and he was closer to your face than usual, yet still enraged.
You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but it was useless, “Let go of me, idiot! You need to learn how to take a fucking joke.”
He didn’t respond, but he kept his eyes on your face. You tried moving away, but now his grip on your shoulders tightened, making your breath hitch.
“What the fuck is your problem? You want me to say sorry or something? Did the paper towel knock the fucking sense out of you? Let me go!” you argued.
“What happened to all your fucking hero training? Can’t get out of my grip, huh? How pathetic,” he growled in a low tone.
You felt his eyes piercing into your own and it was making you a little bit uncomfortable. He’s never been physical with you, even with the constant bickering between you guys. This was a side of him you’ve never seen.
You started, “Look, did I hurt your feelings or something? Did I hit you really hard on the head? There’s no point in holding me against the fridge. Plus, the handle is kind of hurting my back-”
“Shut up,” he stated plainly.
He looked away, avoiding eye contact with you. Okay.... suspicious much...
You tried moving once again, then he pulled you up from the fridge only to slam you back against it, but this time harder.
“Why can’t you just fucking stay still?!” he started yelling.
“Ow! Because you’re being a fucking weirdo! There’s something fucking wrong with you, it’s starting to creep me out! What the fuck are your intentions anyway, huh?!” you argued back.
His calmness fading, he yelled back, “SHUT THE FUCK UP! ALL YOU EVER DO IS GET ON MY FUCKING NERVES LIKE YOU KNOW EVERY FUCKING THING IN THE WORLD!”
His face was inching closer and closer to your face with each word pouring from his mouth. You smirked at this.
You laughed, teasing, “Oh, you wanna kiss me so bad, huh?”
He immediately froze after hearing that sentence spill from your mouth and avoided eye contact yet again. Oddly enough, he returned to his calmer self... If you didn’t know any better, it was obvious that that sentence held some truth with him.
“Look just-”
Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours. Your eyes shot wide open at the shock of the situation. Bakugo Katsuki fucking kissed you... Bakugo Katsuki. The Bakugo Katsuki who always argued with you. The Bakugo Katsuki who always got on your nerves. THAT Bakugo Katsuki.
Taking you away from your thoughts, he pulled away from the kiss. He examined your face for your reaction, but you were frozen in place with your eyes shot wide open. You didn’t know what to do, as if you were a computer and you were going through some code that you weren’t programmed to handle. He looked away and scoffed at himself, mumbling.
“Of course, she didn’t fucking like that, idiot...” he mumbled.
His grip on you loosened and his hands were brought to his side and he couldn’t bear to look at you in the face again. Breaking from your frozen state, you focused your eyes on him. He pulled his face away from your point of view and was scratching his neck in embarrassment and you could notice the light blush spread on his cheeks. You felt a little tug on your heart that you’ve never felt before when looking at him. At that moment, he was just so freaking cute.
Mentally telling yourself that you’re gonna regret this later, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him closer to you again. Your lips locked with his and you closed your eyes to bask in the moment. Only this time, Bakugo’s eyes were shot wide open, but only for a second. Relief soon spread across his face and his eyes rested on your waist, pulling you closer.
Both of you guys wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment forever, the rivalry between you two completely non-existent. As all good things must come to an end, you pulled away from him and your eyes made contact for a second before you both looked away, blushing. Realization soon hit you and you didn’t know what to do next.
“I-”
“Uh-”
You guys stuttered at the same time, making eye contact for a second before looking away. The atmosphere between the two of you was confusing. Before you could think of another thing to say, he spoke up first.
“Good night,” he said.
He walked away swiftly and turned the corner to the hallway towards his dorm. You stood for a few seconds not knowing what to think. You released the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in and proceeded to walk towards your dorm room. Leaving the kitchen a bit of a mess for the night.
The next day it was Kaminari who was blamed for leaving the paper towel on the floor and some spilled water on the counter. Poor boy.
-
Now, the relationship that you had with ‘blasty-boy’ would probably seem complicated and confusing in the eyes of others, but you two were pretty content with where you guys were at. There was an unspoken agreement that you would keep your relationship under wraps. You knew how Bakugo always tried to upkeep his ego of being the best. You’ve always assumed that he didn’t want anyone to know he had a soft spot for you. And you didn’t necessarily mind not sharing your relationship out in the open, anyway. I mean, you guys only just made your relationship official, but it was a little hard to keep your mouth shut when you desperately wanted to gush about him with the other girls of Class 1-A.
Although, you guys have managed to maintain the rivalry between you guys in front of the others. It’s not like you guys were faking it, though. Only now, you guys saw it as fun, meaningless banter and meant nothing by it. The few times that you’ve got to spend with Bakugo alone were completely different from when you would be with him as a group. 
On one of your more recent dates, he invited you to watch a movie in his dorm room and he was so adamant about keeping you close to him throughout the movie. At one point in the night, you tried to get up to use the restroom real quick and his arm around your waist pulled you back down, making you fall onto his lap and you stared up at him. He ignored you and stared at the laptop screen.
“Uh... I need to go pee. Let me go, please?” you smiled up at him.
He gave you a glance and reverted his stare to the screen again, “No.”
“What do you mean no? I drank so much water because the popcorn was too salty... come on. You want me to pee on you or something?” you joked.
He laughed, “So, what if I do?”
You sat up and his gaze finally met yours and his signature smirk was plastered on his face.
You grabbed one of his pillows and hit him with it, “Ew, you’re so fucking gross! I’m going.”
He laughed and finally allowed you to leave, but rest assured, he snuggled up with you when you came back.
-
Right now, you were hanging with the rest of your class in the common room. On Fridays, you guys all agreed to a movie night after a long week of classes. You were sitting with the rest of the girls, settled between Momo and Mina. The movie hasn’t started yet since everyone was starting to get comfortable and settled in. A few of your classmates were grabbing popcorn and other snacks in the kitchen while the rest of you guys were just chatting. Somehow, the conversation between the girls evolved into talking about relationships.
“Oh my god! There was this really cute guy that I accidentally bumped into at lunch and apparently he’s a third-year! I hope I bump into him again, he was seriously cute,” gushed Mina.
“That’s so cute, Mina! I wish I had, like, ANY romantic interactions. My life’s so boring...” groaned Ochaco.
“Same,” said Hagakure.
The rest of the girls sort of nodded in agreement, but you just sat there sipping your juice pouch loudly.
“Y/n? You’re awfully quiet,” teased Tsu as she nudged you with her elbow.
“Well, I mean-”
“What are you ladies talking about over here, huh?” said Denki as he and the other boys inched closer to the girls to join their conversation.
Momo spoke up, “Seems like Y/n over here has a crush!” 
You covered your face in embarrassment, “No I do not! It’s... uh... look we’re just... talking?”
Kirishima teased, “Awe so who’s the lucky individual?”
“Yeah, I wanna know who captured our Y/n’s heart,” laughed Sero.
“It’s no one...” you said after trying to recover after digging yourself in a deeper hole.
“Hey, Bakugo. How do you feel about Y/n’s new crush, huh? Maybe your love for her isn’t reciprocated after all...” started Kaminari before Bakugo stood from his seat on the couch and grabbed his shirt to intimidate him.
He growled, “I don’t have a crush on Y/n. How many times do I have to tell you idiots that?!”
“You’re just jealous that Y/n’s significant other is probably hotter than you!” laughed Mina.
Visibly annoyed at the situation, Bakugo walks away rolling his eyes and mumbling, “Tch. Can’t believe I go to school with a bunch of idiots...”
“Awe, can’t take it anymore? Your love for me is so strong that it pains you to listen to this conversation, huh, Bakugo?” you teased.
“Shut up. I’m going to the bathroom,” he said plainly.
The rest of your classmates on the couch got a laugh in before the topic of your potential significant other died down into smaller topics within different people. Those who were in the kitchen preparing the snacks for everyone finally came back and everyone was finding their seats around the TV and your boyfriend had yet to come back.
You pulled out your phone to text him and right as you did, Iida turned off the lights.
“Yo, Y/n. Turn off your phone it’s too bright and the movie’s about to start,” nudged Mina.
You apologized, “Sorry. I’ll turn it off in a minute I just need to text someone.”
You pulled up your boyfriend’s text log and typed in a message for him:
yo blasty boy why arent u back from the bathroom the movies starting
...also i saved u a seat next to me so we can cuddle (lowkey of course hehe)
After sending those two messages, you put away your phone in your pocket. Everyone was concentrated on the movie and you set your attention on the TV screen until...
PING PING
A phone on the coffee table lit up brightly while making two loud notification pings. Everyone lost focus on the movie and looked over at the phone on the table. No doubt that it was your grandpa of a boyfriend’s phone pinging. Before you could do something, Kirishima grabbed it.
“Who the hell didn’t turn off their ringer? And why is it so damn loud..” laughed Sero.
Kirishima’s eyes scanned his phone for a quick second before his eyes widened and he covered his mouth in surprise.
“Holy shit! Bakugo has a girlfriend!” yelled Kirishima.
You couldn’t help but cover your face in your blanket... Bakugo was about to be so mad at you. Your secret would be out and honestly, you were glad, but you know that your boyfriend didn’t want anyone to find out anytime soon. At least, not like this.
Everyone turned to Kirishima, suddenly losing interest in the movie playing in front of them.
“Oh my god, you’re joking!” squealed Yaoyorozu.
Ojiro claimed, “There’s no way that Bakugo has a girlfriend. Not that hothead.”
“Bro, I’m not joking! And guess what... it’s someone in this room!” exclaimed Kirishima.
Everyone starts looking around the class, silently accusing their classmates of being the culprit.
“Look what they said: ‘also i saved u a seat next to me so we can cuddle‘! Someone better start speaking upppppp!” said Kaminari teasingly as he got the phone from the red-haired boy.
“So, who is it?” grinned Ochako.
Sero peeked at the phone in Kirishima’s hands, “There’s no name, it just says ‘dumbass’. That’s so like Bakugo.”
You sighed in relief. You didn’t know that Bakugo didn’t have your contact as your actual name. 
“G-guys! I don’t think Kacchan would want us to go through his phone...” protested Midoriya.
“Midoriya is right! This is not respectful behavior, we should respect our classmate’s privacy,” Iida said matter-of-factly.
Kaminari replied, “Aw, come on you guys are no fun! It’s harmless, anyway! If it really is someone in our class, we were bound to find out! It’s inevitable!”
You grab the phone from him and said, “Wow, Kaminari, I didn’t know you had the vocabulary capacity for the word inevitable! Now, let me see this...”
Lo and behold, your messages were shown on the screen under the name ‘dumbass’. You tried to analyze the situation and how you could use this small sliver of anonymity to your advantage. You concluded that just trying to play off the situation would be the best thing to do-
“Woah, woah, woah. What’s that as Bakugo’s wallpaper?” said Mina as she slowly grabbed the phone from your hands.
Right then, a horror scene played out right in front of your eyes. As everyone was standing crowded around the phone (whether they agreed with peering through your boyfriend’s phone or not), they were looking at the brightly-lit device in the pink girl’s hands and she deleted the notifications to show his very-telling wallpaper… you could say there was a slight miscalculation in your plan as you failed to notice earlier that his wallpaper was the two of you... making out.
You couldn’t bear to look at what was on his phone as everyone let out their gasps. It was too embarrassing, everyone seeing such an intimate moment on your boyfriend’s phone. Bakugo had taken that picture on a whim one night when you two were having one of your movie nights. When he did that, you were shocked because there was no way that Bakugo took pictures of himself ever. Honestly, you were shocked to see that he knew how to take a selfie. Nonetheless, you peeked through your fingers at the phone in Mina’s hand just for a bit.
To your surprise, he set the wallpaper to LIVE MODE. Live mode...... Everyone was watching you guys make out in action like it was a fucking movie.
That motherfucker...
The silence of realization was then disrupted as the girls let out their squeals and the whole class was causing a commotion while the boys high-fived each other as if they won a competition or something. Everyone was up and moving, a strong contrast from them mere minutes ago when they were lounging around on the couch and floor. Sero was shaking your shoulders as you covered your face in your hands. Your face was heating up from all the embarrassment and you couldn’t bear to look at any of your classmates after what they just witnessed.
You didn’t know what to think. Half of you were completely embarrassed that your friends just saw you in an embarrassing scenario and half of you were angry at Bakugo because this was all his fault! Who the fuck puts such an intimate moment as their wallpaper?! Why not something cute? And of course, it had to be a live photo…
You finally peered through your hands again to see the scene in front of you. Mina was laughing so hard on the couch that she was on the verge of tears.
“I CAN’T BREATHE! NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS WOULD I EVER EXPECT THIS SHIT!” she cried.
Most of the boys were still jumping up and down like some monkeys due to the sheer excitement and energy in the room. Uraraka walked up to you and smiled widely while placing her hands firmly on your shoulders.
“Wow! Who would’ve thought that you and Bakugo were a thing! I honestly didn’t see that coming… sorry that we all had to find out that way. I was a little too absorbed in the excitement to consider how you felt,” said the round-faced girl.
With your face still red, you said, “Don’t worry about it… it was bound to happen soon enough, right? Although, now I’m a little embarrassed, but I guess I’m kind of relieved that I don’t have to put much effort into hiding our relationship anymore.”
Yaoyorozu chimed in, “Honestly, this is more entertaining than the movie we were just watching!”
You laughed along with the other girls who were nearby. On the other side of the room, the boys were making a train throughout the room and singing.
“Uh, y/n,” interrupted Asui, “Look.”
The man-of-the-hour walked in the room with his hands in his pockets with his usual grumpy expression. He stopped to examine the room and stared quietly at the energetic group of boys.
He scoffed, “What are you nerds doing? Why aren’t you guys watching the fucking movie, huh?”
He looked around the room until his eyes met yours and you quickly looked away, which caught his attention. Your mind was racing a mile a minute trying to think of an excuse. Your gaze averted to the ground, but you could hear his footsteps heading your way.
“Since when did your socks suddenly get so interesting that you can’t look me in the eyes?” teased Bakugo.
He brought his hand up to your chin and lifted your face to meet his gaze. His playful smirk instantly dropped once he saw your expression. Your eyes were borderline teary and seemed lost, like a sad puppy.
He whispered so that only you could hear, “Baby… what’s up?”
You wanted to give in to his touch at that very moment and run into his arms, but you resisted because you knew that it would be too selfish given how you just broke your guys’ agreement. You didn’t deserve to be in his embrace right now, he was seconds away from finding out that your guys’ secret came out accidentally all because you sent a random text. You pulled your face away from his grip and moved away from him.
“W-wait, what-” he started.
“HEYYYYYYYYYYY, BAKUBRO!” said Kaminari and he wrapped an arm around him (much to Bakugo’s dismay), “How come you didn’t tell your buddies that you had a soft side to you, huh?”
Bakugo grunted, “What the fuck are you going on about?”
Kirishima chimed, “You know, you shouldn’t leave your phone out in the open like that… it makes you vulnerable!”
Still confused he said, ”Did worms get in your brains? We’ve been only one day off from school and you start lacking common sense?”
To his surprise, you walk up with his phone in your hand while keeping eye contact, unlike earlier.
“Sherlock, I thought you would’ve connected the dots by now,” you sighed, with a tinge of sadness behind it, “Your wallpaper… really?”
You hold up the phone up to his face and his reaction was almost humorous to you. His eyes widened and his face was painted with a light tint of pink.
For the first time in your life, you witnessed your boyfriend at a loss for words. The rest of your class watched the whole interaction and some restrained laughs were let out and they were all back to square one, laughing like maniacs. You were about to join in and laugh with them when you realized again what the situation at hand was. You were scared of how Bakugo would react since this would be the first rift in your relationship and you didn’t want to have a genuine argument with him, especially with how angry he could get. Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands grasp yours and you look up to see your boyfriend smiling at you.
“I-”
Before you could say a single word, he hauls you on his shoulder, and you yelp in surprise. You don’t know how you ended up in this position, but now you’re dangling off of him and now you’re staring at the ground. (Also, his face was dangerously close to your ass, but you didn’t mention it.) He starts walking away and away from the commotion towards his dorm room. Before you can protest, he leans his head on your body causing you to freeze up. You could feel his warmth from his body heat against your shirt.
“You know… I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you,” he says quietly.
Your brain took time to process that sentence… was Bakugo actually not mad? Most importantly, who knew such sweet words could come out of his mouth? You couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief and you relaxed a bit.
Wanting to tease him, you said, “Sorry, you were too quiet. Could you repeat that again?”
He groaned, “I said… I’m not mad at you, I could never be.”
You giggled, “I know. I heard you the first time, but I thought my ears were deceiving me… Katsuki Bakugo is saying something nice for once? Whatttt…”
He shook you a little, “Forget it. You didn’t hear anything.”
Raising yourself a little, you patted your boyfriend on the head, “Nope. Remembering that phrase forever and ever.”
“Whatever.”
You smiled, “Whatever!”
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2K notes · View notes
goldenshoyo · 3 years
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A commission! If you're interested in commissioning me, send me a dm!
Summary: Iwaizumi comforts you after your ex hurts you again.
Genre: Fluff and smut
Word count: ~3k
Warnings: vaginal sex, fem reader, use of "good girl" and "baby girl", and really not much else. This is soft. Let me know if you want anything else tagged.
---
He's done it again, Hajime thought as he looked down at his phone and the cluster of messages you had been sending him. He knew before opening them, but upon confirming his suspicion, canceled all the meetings he had leading up to the weekend and decided to make you, his propriety. Surely, the team wouldn’t mind. They had more than one athletic trainer for a reason and could easily make do without him for one long weekend.
“Heading out?” Coach Hibarida raises his eyebrow at Hajime as he packed up his bag.
“Emergency,” he says slipping his phone in his pocket. “I’ll let you know if everything is alright. Might need to call in one of the others for tomorrow.”
“No problem.” He crosses his arms and turns back to watching the team run drills. With one last careful glance at a few of the players he’s been concerned with due to past injuries, he leaves to rush to the bakery down the street from your home.
Parking the car outside of the bakery, glad to have made it before the rush, he pulls out his phone and responds to your texts.
Don’t worry. I’ll be there soon. You can tell me all about it when I get there.
He picks out a few croissants stuffed with chocolate, slices of cheesecake and strawberry shortcake, and two turkey sandwiches to go. He laughs as he places the bag on the passenger seat, the sandwiches sound so out of place with all the sugary treats, but he wants to ensure you are taking care of yourself… especially since your bastard of an ex never cared to.
If he wouldn’t, Hajime knew he could.
--
The sound of your apartment buzzer blaring in your living room pulls you from your daydream… or dissociation… whichever it was at that point. You press the button, giving Hajime access to the building, and try and straighten up the mess that gathered in the room since yesterday evening. Unlocking the door to the living room, you lay on the couch, curling your knees up to your chest and resting your head on a fluffy pillow you’d brought out of your room last night.
You felt dumb, letting this happen again. While it’s obviously not your fault, part of you can’t help but feel like if only you were stronger, you’d stop letting your ex do this to you. It’s nearly pathetic, you think, always letting him back in and letting him crush you just to call your best friend to pick up the pieces. He’s probably getting tired of it and you can’t blame him if he is.
“Hey,” he opens the door, and you see a brown bag from the bakery between his chest and arm.
“Hi,” your voice cracks, and you cough. You didn’t realize your previous fits had affected your voice so soon.
He places the bag on your coffee table and lifts you up to a sitting position and takes your place so you can lay on him instead of the arm of the couch and your pillow. He strokes your hair softly, twirling the strands between his fingers when he gets to the end before letting it fall and repeating the steps. You let him continue this for a while, happy that he’s not pushing you to talk. You know how he feels about your ex, having had a few… well disagreements to put it lightly… over him. It’s easier when he just holds you instead of telling you what you already know.
“I brought you lunch… well I guess it’s actually closer to an early dinner now. But there are also lots of sweets. I tried to get all your favorites,” he tells you softly and you look up and see his face isn’t happy or sad. He looks completely neutral.
“I really appreciate that.” You sit up and let the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on your lap and the couch. “Thank you for coming by again.”
He wraps his arm around your shoulder and rubs his hand up and down gently. “Anytime. I’m always here for you,” he chuckles, and you give him a confused look. “Even when you make stupid decisions.”
“There it is!” You giggle and lean forward taking the ridiculous amount of food out of the bag. “I wondered when you’d start picking on me.” You hand him one of the sandwiches and lean back on the couch. “I’m really done with him this time.”
“Mhmm,” he hums. You choose to ignore it and eat your food. It’s better this way, not talking about it and just letting him keep you company.
Hajime cleans up the table after you’ve both indulged yourselves, putting the leftovers in your fridge. Noticing your dishwasher had been run, he puts the dishes away and reloads it with what’s spread out across your counters and in your sink. You want to tell him to stop, but from past experience, you know it won’t stop him.
“Come watch a movie with me,” you plead as he shuts the dishwasher. “I think the new Godzilla movie is out, don’t you like those?”
You hear a soft chuckle, barely audible. “Yeah, let’s watch it. Need anything else?”
“Just you,” you tell him, and he smiles at you before taking his place beside you.
His arm snakes around your shoulder and you lean into him. You watch as the movie starts, not really knowing anything about the movie playing out, but laughing whenever Haji makes a comment about one of the giants fighting on the screen. He smiles at you every time he catches your gaze, going into more detail to give you information on the lore or answering a question you ask.
“That was…. interesting,” you comment as the credits play.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “It was good.”
You can’t help but giggle. “Well, it’s not my type of movie. That’s all I’ll say,” you continue laughing and he wraps you in his arms and pulls you closer. There’s a long bout of silence.
“You deserve better, you know.”
“I know,” you say quietly not looking up at him.
“Someone who will take care of you,” he continues. “It kills me every time you do this, letting him in just to use you even though this always happens.” He gestures between you and him. “Let me instead.”
“What?” You sit up, pulling away from him and furrowing your brows. “Let you what?”
“----, I’ve always loved you. You have to know that by now.” He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. “Please, just let me take care of you. Please,” he continues. His eyes are locked on yours and you shiver.
Of course, some part of you always felt like he may have had feelings for you. But you weren’t sure if they were still present ever since this mess with your ex started 6 months ago. He never said no to coming over to comfort you, and every time you began getting closer and closer with Hajime until you become comfortable just laying on his chest and letting him soothe you to sleep like he was your boyfriend and not your best friend.
“I-“
“You don’t have to say anything now. I know I just sprung it on you out of nowhere, and when you’re vulnerable on top of that.” He sighs standing up and walking towards the door. His hands run through his hair. “I’m sorry to dump it all on you-“
Your body moves before you can think, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around him, but there’s no stopping it now. You kiss him, cutting off his word vomit. His hands cup your cheeks and hold you still while his lips move against yours. They’re softer than you expected, but then again, you’re not sure you expected any of this.
Pulling away you look up at him. His green eyes are looking down at you, slightly glossy and bright. “Don’t go.” You tell him and pull him closer to you. “Please,” you beg, lip quivering and tears threatening to spill. “Please stay.”
As the tears break the barrier and stream down your cheeks the skin under your eyes burn, the skin still raw from the night's previous. It hurts, but the desperately empty feeling you’ve had in your chest is filling up. The warmth returning and your heart feeling lighter and lighter the longer he holds you close to him.
“I’ll never leave you,” he says softly, his hand resting on the top of your head and then stroking down your hair. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you tell him back. It feels weird saying it to him like this. You’ve told him before, but never feeling the way you do now. Your chest swelling and nerves making you want to fidget your fingers. “I’m sorry-“
“Don’t apologize for anything.” His tone is much firmer now, less desperate like before. “I should have told you sooner, then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt so often.”
“It’s not your fault,” you pull away and grab a tissue to wipe your eyes and cheeks. “I’m just glad you told me.” The flood of emotions seems to be washing away, your body lighter and mind no longer cloudy.
“I really need to shower,” you tell him then laugh. “I probably smell.”
“You don’t,” he laughs. “But if you feel like you need to, go ahead. It’s getting sort of late anyway, so I’ll head ho-“
“No! I told you I don’t want you to go. You can stay the night.” You frown at him and he laughs.
“I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to let me stay since I confessed to you, that’s all. I want to respect your boundaries. Especially since everything is so fresh and raw.”
You ignore the way his words make you feel between your thighs and disappear into your room, getting your things together for your shower. Hajime joins you in your room, sitting on the bed and crossing his legs while watching you gather everything.
--
When you step outside the bathroom door, Hajime has to look away. Your towel wrapped around your body, skin sparkling with water droplets, and the sweet scent of your body wash is too much all at once. Adjusting his pants, hoping you don’t see, he finally looks back at you when you speak.
“I think you left some shorts here the last time you stayed. I’ll see if I can find them.”
“Thanks,” he says quickly.
Tossing him the shorts, you see he’s not making eye contact with you, and you giggle. “It’s okay to look at me, ya know. I mean, aren’t we like… a thing now?”
He coughs, “yeah, I just need to go change.” Getting off the bed, he tries to sneak past you to the bathroom, but you catch his arm.
“Why not change in here?” You tilt your head, a devious smile forming on your lips. “Is something wrong?” You fake a concerned tone, knowing what you’re doing to him. He’s hard, you can see it through his pants, but you don’t dare to make it obvious… yet.
“I… I just-“ he stutters. “I want you to feel comfortable getting dressed is all.”
Instead of answering you drop the towel, your body fully exposed to him now and his cheeks go bright red. He can’t stop himself from looking now, hypnotized with everything he sees. He’s ashamed to even think about the times he’s thought of you this way but seeing you fully nude is so much better than any daydream.
“Fuck,” he mumbles quietly, and you giggle again.
He reaches out, taking your hips in his hand and pulling your body against him. You lean up and kiss him, his tongue slipping into your mouth almost instantly as you wrap your hands around his shoulders. You moan against his lips, your hands sliding under his shirt and feeling his abs underneath.
He breaks the kiss, pushing you gently onto the bed with a small apology before quickly pulling his shirt off and attaching himself to you again. He grinds against you, his thigh rubbing your cunt and making you gasp while he bites down on your neck gently and licking over the skin. Arching your back, you try your best to get as close to him as possible.
“More,” you whimper needing more than just his thigh teasing you. “I need you.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you,” he stands up at the end of the bed and pushes his pants down his legs, and steps out of them.
His cock flinging from his underwear and hitting his stomach makes you whine, it’s almost too perfect. His hand wrapped around it and his thumb dragging across the tip nearly make you beg for him to fuck you, but you know you need to be patient.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I promise I don’t mind waiting.” He sounds so sincere; you could cry if you weren’t so pent up and desperate to have him fuck you right. Instead of answering, you sit up, opening the drawer on your bedside table, and toss a condom at him. He chuckles, ripping the packet open with his teeth then sliding it down his length.
“Please,” you say pulling him down towards you with your arm. “I need you,” you smile knowing he likes hearing that. Beyond just tonight, you plan him making sure he knows this forever. “Please make love to me.”
He kisses your lips, his hand holding the back of your head while he pushes you further onto the bed and teasing your folds with the tip of his cock. You whimper feeling the head push past your hole and inside of you. His size didn’t scare you when you first saw it, but now feeling him slowly fill you up you think maybe a healthy dose of fear isn’t such a bad thing.
“Shhh,” he whispers. “It’s okay,” a kiss to your forehead helps you relax. He stops moving after he fully reaches inside of you, and you try to relax more. “Let me know when you’re okay,” he kisses your forehead again. His lips are so warm and soft, you could melt.
“Move,” you beg once you feel the burning subside and become antsy for him to make you feel even more.
The first thrust takes your breath away, making you close your eyes and squeeze his biceps tight with your fingers. The second, you moan so loudly you think the neighbors will hear. You lose yourself completely while he fucks into you. His breath is hot against your neck and ear, shallow moans leaving his lips and making your stomach turn in delight.
“Haji, please! More!” Wrapping your legs around his waist, he thrusts into you harder, and you let out a loud cry. Each thrust is better than the last, and you wonder if you’ve ever felt this good. The coil twisting in your stomach threatens to snap with each swift impact of his cock hitting the spot inside of you that makes you dig your nails in his back.
“Are you close baby girl? Are you gonna come for me?” He looks down at you with a smirk and you nod. “You feel so fucking good squeezing my cock so tight. Come on baby, I know you want to cum. I want to feel it. Cum for me.”
Your breathing hitches and you close your eyes as your orgasm rips through your body; toes curling and nails digging deeper into Hajime’s skin. He kisses you through the high of your climax and you cling to him as if he’s your lifeline. Again, you’re left wondering if you’ve ever felt this good. How has he made you feel this high on him?
It’s overwhelming. It’s too much. You’re not sure if you can keep letting him go. Part of you starts to panic scared you won’t be able to let him continue fucking you.
“Good girl,” he says against your lips. All previous worries leave your body in an instant with those two simple words. “My good girl. I’m close too. Can you hold out for me baby?” You nod again, too tired to say anything and whimpering each time his cock drags against your walls. After a few more quick thrusts he’s holding you still and cumming.
Without stopping for a moment to breathe, he pulls out and stands up. Slipping the condom off and tying the end before tossing it in the bin beside your desk, he then tosses himself onto the bed beside you. He pulls you into his chest, holding you as close to him as he can while slowly stroking your arms.
“Is it cliché to say I love you again?” you ask kissing his chest.
“I don’t think so,” he laughs, chest vibrating against your lips. “I love you.”
“I love you!” You kiss his lips once before laying your head on his bicep and closing your eyes. “Thank you for always being here for me.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he moves a strand of hair from your face and smiles. “I have nowhere else I’d rather be. In fact, that reminds me…” he sits up and reaches down off the bed for his phone from his pants. “Need to tell Coach Hibarida I won’t be in tomorrow.”
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toplinetommy · 3 years
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Kill My Lonely Nights - Tyson Jost
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a/n: after plotting and replotting this fic for over a month its finally here. my baby and definitely my most favorite thing ive ever written. hope everyone enjoys it as much as i do.
tagging @bqstqnbruin​ thanks for being my beta and for bouncing ideas around with me and also my fav josty whores 😇 @justjosty​ @hookingminor​ @farbutnevergone
Synopsis: tyson finally meets jt’s neighbor — and he’ll stick by her side through her ‘i’m a single and independent woman’ phase as long as jt doesn’t find out
songs: im so tired - lauv, troye sivan; better than heaven - slander; cherry on top - olmos, kyle reynolds
words: 20k+
warnings: alcohol, smut, unprotected sex​
“Tyson, you know my neighbor right?”
You roll your eyes at JT’s way of introducing the two of you, because, no, you did not know the curly-headed brunette in front of you. You had seen him in passing a few times when he was over at JT’s but you never learned his name. In fact, the only thing you knew about him was that they were teammates and you got that from deductive reasoning since he was always dressed in some sort of Avalanche merch. 
“I’m y/n,” you smile, sticking out your hand for the stranger to shake. 
“Tyson,” the no longer nameless stranger responds, a quirky smile on his lips.
“It’s nice to finally put a name to the face,” you respond, your cheeks heating up as you look over him. He’s cute in that quirky way where his head’s a mess of curls, his eyes full of joy, and his shoulders filling out the grey Avs hoodie quite nicely. 
“Same here,” Tyson agrees, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets. You continued to gather the few things in the living room that were yours before finding your phone charger and giving JT a hug. 
“I’ll see you when you get back from Chicago yeah?”
“Yep, have a good birthday!” JT cheers, from his spot on the couch.
With that you bid Tyson and JT a goodbye, choosing to wave at Tyson instead of showing an outright affection towards the stranger. The door shuts behind you as you walk a few feet down the carpeted hallway to your own door. 
“Dude,” Tyson starts, turning his attention back on his buddy from where it was lingering on the now-closed door. 
“No-”
“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!” Tyson incredulously interrupts.
“You’re gonna tell me she’s hot because, yeah, anyone can see that. She’s going through this thing she’s been calling a ‘guy cleanse’,” JT explains, putting finger quotes around guy cleanse. Tyson brushes the comment aside, not bothering to ask any more questions. If he’d want to get to know you, he knows he’d have to do it without JT’s help. JT always had this thing of being overprotective over the women in his life, especially being a guy that grew up in hockey with three little sisters.
Another week or so passes before Tyson sees you again. It’s when he’s getting into the elevator after getting dinner with his JT, and you’re just getting home from what Tyson presumes is work and maybe even the liquor store with the purse and lunch box hanging in the crease of your elbow as well as the case of Truly’s in your other hand.
“Hey, it’s y/n, right?” Tyson says in lieu of a greeting. He holds the elevator open for you as you step out, thinking of ways to keep the conversation longer than a simple greeting. 
“Yeah,” you smile, warmly at him. He can see that your hands are full as you try to shovel through your bag in search of your keys as you take another step towards your door towards the end of the hallway. “Well, uh, have a good night Tyson.”
Tyson watches as you turn away with a small smile, and suddenly he’s stumbling over his words, trying to make the moment last longer. He’s rarely ever seen you around, most times in passing in this very hallway and the occasional time JT talked to you on the phone when they were on the road. You didn’t go to games, you didn’t hang out with the team, and you were never over at JT’s when Tyson would show up.
But when he had officially met you the other week when you were leaving JT’s apartment, he was transfixed and curious about the girl JT always talked about but never brought around.
“Do you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, nodding to the case in your hand. You’re asking as more of a common courtesy than anything else, but you can tell that he’s waiting for you to make the next move regarding this run-in with him. The peachiness of his cheeks and his hands shoved into his jacket pockets are proof of that.
“You sure?”
“Any friend of JT is a friend of mine,” you smile, opening your front door and gesturing for Tyson to go in before you.
“Yeah, okay,” Tyson smiles, taking another step towards you and reaching out for the box of Truly’s. “Let me take that for you.”
Tyson graciously takes the case from you and steps through the doorway of your apartment, suddenly losing any train of thought he once had now that he’s in an apartment he’s never been in. He sees the fridge across the way and decides he’ll just stick the drinks in there. There’s thankfully space in the fridge for them and he watches you shred your raincoat and heels by the door. “So, uh, how do you know JT? Like, I know you guys are neighbors but he’s always referring to you as his best friend. I honestly didn’t even know that you lived next to him until the other week.”
You laugh, thinking back to how you even met JT. It was nowhere near being a typical introduction between neighbors, it was honestly pretty far from that. “So, whenever he first moved here like two years ago, I was sitting in my car in the parking garage on the phone with my dad, and this car parks next to me and the driver gets out and completely dings my car. I’m talking a paint scratch that’s starting to rust now.”
“He’s pretty unaware of his space,” Tyson laughs, knowing all too well that his friend did something like that.
“And so, I get out of my car, and I confront him about it, and he apologizes and whatever, not a big deal. But then he gets off the elevator with me and I’m thinking this guy’s gotta be a creep since he’s barely talking to me but then he pulls out his keys and is unlocking the door next to mine, and now he bugs me all the time,” you smile, Tyson making space for you to go into the fridge he’s currently standing in front of. 
“You see that picture frame over there?” you nod your head to the wall your TV is mounted on. Tyson walks over to it, inspecting it and noting that neither of the people in it are you or JT. “There’s paint missing behind it because when he was helping me mount my TV he hit the wall with the drill. He got me the frame to cover it but I still haven’t gotten around to putting a picture there.”
Tyson’s eyebrows quirk up, “and how long has it been there?”
“Uh, maybe a year?” you answer, your tone making it sound more like a question as you blush. Tyson only laughs at you, fully understanding how something like that can slip from your mind. You offer him a Truly at that, him not missing an opportunity to chirp you since your flavor of choice was lime, even though his was black cherry, which in your mind was the most basic flavor there was.
He sits across from you at the island while you stand opposite of him, leaning on the granite in front of you. He can’t get enough of your laughter, finding it’s something you do quite often as the two of you share stories. You, on the other hand, have to stop yourself from blushing since he doesn’t break eye contact with you once. It’s starting to get late and you still haven’t eaten dinner, so with an empty Truly in hand, Tyson is reluctantly getting up to head home to prepare for his early practice and flight tomorrow. He doesn’t want to impose on you any further, considering you were essentially strangers an hour ago.
You wave goodbye at him as he walks down the hallway to the elevator, a smile on your face as he nearly runs into Mr. Harter, the man that lives at the end of the hallway. You laugh as he apologizes profusely, something you amount to his Canadian upbringing.
Tyson curses himself over the next few days for not getting your number, and there’s no way in hell he’s asking JT for it. He doesn’t know how he’ll go about getting it, and the possibility of him running into you to get it is slim, with the fact that the Avs have a nine-day roadie on the upper East Coast. He figures he’ll try to ask JT more about you over the course of the trip, and then hopefully weasel his way into getting it.
It’s three days into the roadie and they’re sitting next to each other on the flight from Ottawa to Toronto. JT is busy on his iPad, and Tyson looks around him, seeing Cale and Gravy reading books, and G is passed out behind him. Tyson nudges JT’s shoulder with his, JT pulls out his AirPod and looks towards his buddy.
“So, y/n, eh?” He jumps right in, watching as JT rolls his eyes and moves to put his AirPod back in. “You said she doesn’t date?”
“Correct.”
“Why’s that? She seems like she wouldn’t have any issue in that department.”
“First off, that’s gross. Secondly, even if she was dating, you aren’t allowed to try anything,” Tyson chooses to ignore that part but continues to listen anyway. “She’s just like focused on herself, I don’t know. She knows her worth and knows what she deserves. She’s been single for as long as I’ve known her. It’s no bullshit with her, in every aspect of her life.” JT shrugs his shoulders as he talks. He’s not an expert on the topic because it’s not one you really talk about with him considering it’s just not really a huge part of your life.
Tyson hums along as he listens to JT talk, trying his best not to show why he’s even asking these questions in the first place. He takes what his friend says in stride, not being one to have gone through a phase like the one you’re going through. In fact, Tyson’s never been someone to say no to a date, fully taking advantage of the pro-athlete lifestyle he’s been living for years now. JT knows this, knows what it’s like to be 22, and all eyes on you. 
He was there once, but he’s been with Sydney for over two years now. JT knows the locker room talk that goes on within hockey teams, he’s been living it his whole life. Yeah, the Denver room has been the best and the calmest when it comes to comments about guys’ dating lives, but the occasional whistle and chirp is made when one of the single guys has a story to share. The last thing he wants is to hear your name in one of those scenarios.
He doesn’t get your number during that road trip, can’t even find you on social media so he puts his efforts on pause. He even went through the list of people JT followed, your name not coming up once. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know your last name.
Soon January is ending and February is starting, the season kicking into high gear as the all-star breaks ends and the playoff push truly begins. Tyson still hasn’t seen you around other than the occasional run-in, and you honestly haven’t given him much thought since that night in late January. Your life has always been chaotic, but still in the most organized way, and you’ve barely seen JT with the way his game schedule is laid out. But the middle of February brings Sydney to town and brings too many parties while she’s around.
It’s at Andre’s place where you see Tyson again, warm pleasantries shared between the two of you. He’s a little confused as he watches you chat with almost everyone there, the weird feeling coming from the fact that most people filling the apartment are on the Avalanche roster. He wonders if you’ve already met most of them or if you’re just that outgoing.
Tyson finally makes his way over to you, two cans in hand as he offers you the one with green lettering with a smile.
“A lime White Claw? That’s the way to my heart,” you joke, placing your hand over your heart before taking his offering.
“I was asking around to see if there were any Truly’s,” Tyson laughs, waving his hand around. “But I hope the White Claw is okay.”
“A White Claw definitely isn’t as good as a Truly but it’s a close second, thank you.”
“Right!” Tyson agrees, “People think they all taste the same but there’s a clear hierarchy of which seltzers are better than others.” You laugh along with Tyson at his comment in complete agreement. You tell him your own tier list of seltzers, starting with Truly’s and ranking the Bud Light ones as the worst.
“I’ve only had a few of them, but I’ll take your word for it,” The laughter between the two of you dies down before JT finds you, saying he’s been looking for you for a little bit.
“It’s not my fault I’m hidden by all these huge men,” you roll your eyes, pointing around the room that’s filled with men all over six feet tall.
“Did you know your neighbor was a hard seltzer connoisseur?” Tyson asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, causing you to scoff. You were nowhere being a ‘connoisseur’ of sorts.
JT takes a sip of his drink, “She’s an alcohol connoisseur period, bud.” WIth that JT disappears to go find his girlfriend, leaving the two of you alone. Tyson’s face is filled with confusion at JT’s comment, not entirely sure what his comment even meant.
“I used to bartend in college,” you answer his silent question. “Which makes me JT’s personal bartender most nights.”
“Maybe I’ll have to get you to make me a drink sometime then,” Tyson suggests. It’s a little too forward for his liking but it just slips out, and you giggle at his attempt at flirting. His tan cheeks have a pink flush to them, and you’re sure it’s not from the alcohol since most people have only been here for an hour or so.
“C’mon,” you nod your head in the direction of the kitchen. Tyson silently follows you, weaving between the people and the furniture. “I can get you that drink right now.”
Once you make it to the kitchen you look around the counters, taking note of the different types of liquors laid out. Tyson watches you as your hands move around, picking up and setting down various bottles. When you’re satisfied with your concoction, you hand him a shot glass, one in your own hand to match his.
“It’s a shooter,” you inform him. He puts trust in you, clinging your glass with his own and bringing the glass to his lips as he tips his head back. Your eyes stay on him as his tongue pokes out to swipe the extra liquid off his lips before you realize you haven’t even taken yours yet. His eyes stay locked on you as you throw your own shot back, your eyes reconnecting when you set the glass on the counter next to you.
A shiver runs through you as his eyes watch your every move. You hadn’t noticed it with any of your other previous run-ins with him but he’s intimidating in that way where his presence is radiating that good kind of confidence. You watched him, unbeknownst to him, as he made his way around the room before ever making it to you.
“So what was that you just gave me?” He asks, crossing his ankles and leaning further on the counter behind him. You move to stand next to him, your shoulder brushing his cotton-covered bicep.
“It’s called a lemon drop shot, it’s just vodka and lemon juice so nothing too special,” you shrug, turning to look up at him. “Maybe I’ll get around to making you more drinks.”
Tyson smirks lightly at your comment, his hands gripping the counter behind him. He remembers what JT told him not too long ago about you, and how you’re someone that doesn’t put up with bullshit when it comes to relationships and his heart deflates a bit. He’d much rather keep talking to you and eventually kiss you, but he knows deep down that’s not what he wants with you either. He can tell from your brief encounters that this could be way more than just a few dates, so he holds back and instead bites his lip before pulling his phone out of his pocket.
He passes it over to you, and you hesitate taking it as you look between the black phone and his brown eyes, “so we can plan a time for you to make me drinks.”
“Ah, I see, I see,” you quip back, taking the phone from his hands and opening a new message and typing in your phone number. You respond back to him on your phone, showing that you got the text and opening up the contact to save his information. “Should I put in some funny name for your contact or is Tyson good enough?”
Tyson laughs fully at that, his chest rumbling for a moment before he calms down and tells you his name is just fine for now, “but I won’t complain if you find a better name for me.” Tyson scratches the back of his head for a moment as he places his phone onto the counter next to him, trying to find the words to keep the conversation going.
You leave not too long after that, catching an Uber with JT and Sydney back to your place. Tyson stays near your side most of the night, giving you a full hug as you leave and a promise of texting you soon.
You see Tyson the next morning at brunch with JT and Sydney, his strong, muscular thighs touching yours in the small booth. You get some fancy french toast, Sydney eyeing you from where she sits across from you. She’s been a close friend of yours ever since JT introduced the two of you whenever she first visited. Her eyes keep flicking between you and Tyson and you give her a stern look, silently telling her to knock it off.
“So, y/n,” she starts, a smirk forming on her lips. “How’s the dating life?”
You scoff with a laugh at her question. She knows well enough how that aspect of your life is doing considering you text her on a pretty regular basis. You choose not to answer, the scoff you let out being enough. 
“Besides, no guy is good enough for her, right?” JT asks, looking over at you continuing his girlfriend’s train of thought. His eyes glance over at Tyson sitting next to you and Tyson ignores the look his teammate gives him. 
“You mean the idiots you always try to set me up with? The ones that don’t live in Denver?” You quip back with a raise of your eyebrows. It’s more of a joke than anything else, but Tyson doesn’t quite understand your tone and mannerisms yet.
His heartbeat speeds up momentarily, thinking that if you hadn’t had any interest in any of JT’s other friends, you definitely wouldn’t have an interest in him. Besides, he may live in Denver now, but that’s not even the whole year when you account for traveling and the offseason.
You miss it, but Tyson changes the subject anyways, which is something you’re grateful for. Brunch passes by and when the waitress comes back with two checks, you knit your eyebrows.
“Actually, could I have my own check? We aren’t together,” you stumble, cheeks heating up at the misinterpretation of yours and Tyson’s relationship.
Tyson takes the check from your outstretched hand, “it’s fine, I got it.”
He’s talking more to you than to the waitress as he smiles warmly at you. You thank him quickly, but not before saying you have enough cash to take care of the tip. He doesn’t argue, following the three of you out of the restaurant and to your car. The two of you linger a little further back than JT and Sydney, both of you reveling in the comfortable silence. 
“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” You ask.
“Not really, I was probably gonna call my mom and maybe do my laundry,” Tyson answers.
“Do you want to come over and hang out instead? I’m just gonna third wheel the two of them but maybe we can find something to do that’s more interesting than laundry.”
Tyson laughs at the third wheeling comment you make, being all too familiar with being the third wheel around most of his friends. “Sure, yeah, I’ll just follow you all then?”
“That sounds good. I’ll see you in a few,” you say goodbye with a smile and a shy wave, hopping into the backseat of JT’s SUV.
Once you get home, Tyson’s knocking on your door a few minutes later with the same warm smile he seems to always have. He sheds his winter coat as he enters your apartment, throwing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He notes the change in clothes, as you’re now wearing an olive green crewneck instead of the wrap top with flowy sleeves you were wearing at the restaurant a few moments prior.
“You a big reader?” He asks, picking up and inspecting the book that’s laid out on the kitchen island. The Power of Now, it reads on the cover. He flips through the first few pages and goes to the back cover to read the reviews.
“Sometimes, it depends on what it is, but I usually just go through phases where I read in all of my free time and then I won’t touch a book again for the next few months,” you admit with a small laugh. “That one’s really good so far though. It’s just about how to live more presently and in the moment.”
Tyson nods his head as he listens, his eyes on you as you speak, “Cale really likes reading this kind of stuff, I should tell him about it.”
“Which one is Cale, again?” You ask, mentally going through the Colorado roster. 
This causes Tyson to laugh, “JT really doesn’t bring you around much, eh.”
You laugh along with him, “not really, but that’s on me sometimes. I go to bed too early for my own liking.”
Tyson’s confused as to why he’s never really seen you before at anything. Guys on the team are always bringing their friends around if they can. At first he thought he just always missed you, but he knows he wouldn’t miss someone as carefree and beautiful as you. Nevertheless, he’s glad he’s sitting in your kitchen right now, and to top it all off, he didn't even have to ask you to hang out first.
“Do you read at all?” You ask curiously. You really knew next to nothing about the man in front of you other than that he was Canadian, played hockey, and preferred Truly’s over White Claws (his favorite flavor was still to be unknown to you).
Tyson chokes out a laugh at your question, “No. When we travel I usually play random games with Sammy and he’s been teaching me French. I still don’t know much so don’t go asking me to say anything.”
“Duly noted,” you nod. You move to the pantry, looking for a few things as you continue to respond. “Like I said, my interest in reading comes in waves and you barely speaking French is better than me only knowing English.”
You continue rifling through your pantry, pulling out everything you know you need. You’ve just finished setting all of the dry ingredients you’d need to make brownies when Tyson asks you what the hell you’re doing.
“I was thinking we could make brownies,” you respond, opening your fridge and pulling out the milk, butter, and eggs. You hear the island chair scratch against the hardwood, indicating Tyson getting up.
“Wait a second,” Tyson says causing you to turn around with a confused look on your face. “Are these the brownies Comph always bringing around that his friend makes?”
“They very much are,” you chuckle. He compliments the baked good one more time before you’re putting him to work. The two of you move seamlessly through your small kitchen, both of you sharing smiles and stories to fill the time. There’s a moment where you see a certain glimmer in his eyes paired with a small smirk and you think he’s about to pull one of his infamous Jost pranks that JT was always telling you about. He doesn’t though, and instead just nudges your hip with his. It seems like you’re looking more at him more than focusing on the flexing of his forearms as he mixes the dry ingredients.
Once it’s time to mix the dry and wet ingredients, Tyson all but misses half the bowl, causing a good chunk of it to land on your crewneck and jeans. The brown powder covered the ‘Disney World’ logo across your chest.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Tyson rushes out, holding back a laugh, because of course he would embarrass himself in front of you and mess up something as simple as that. You move to the sink, shaking off the loose contents into it to help alleviate any sort of mess.
“You’re fine, I promise,” you reassure, turning around to give him a smile. He smiles nervously back at you, not fully knowing your statement was genuine or if you were trying to spare his feelings. He glanced at your chest, trying to see the damage he had done before realizing he was staring directly at your chest and his cheeks flushed. You walked back over to where he was standing, giving him another smile as you began mixing everything together. 
“Would you, uh, ever wanna grab dinner with me some time?” He asks, voice higher than normal as he speaks, his heart beating nervously for your answer. Your face falls as you hear the question and you slowly turn around to face the curly headed brunette. Tyson is a great guy, it’s obvious to everyone, and you’re not oblivious to the fact that there’s physical attraction between the two of you. It’s that Tyson is best friends with your best friend who also happens to be your neighbor.
You laugh nervously at the question, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere, before you respond, “Sure, it’s not like it’s a date or anything.” 
You brush it off, even though you’re pretty sure he was explicitly asking you out on a date. You turn your focus back to the brownies, popping them in the oven before wandering down your hallway to change into something clean. As Tyson walks over to take a seat on the couch, he sees your retreating figure as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. He stops in his tracks momentarily, seeing your bare back, the skin between your shoulder blades covered by your lacy bralette. He blinks a few too many times as he shakes any thoughts from his head and continues his path to the couch.
Your guys’ friendship quickly develops after that. The two of you starting a snapchat streak and having a long string of text messages involving various TikTok’s and memes alongside the more serious stuff. You seem to be spending more time at JT’s place when Tyson is also there and soon enough Tyson’s leaving JT’s and going the few extra feet to your place instead of home like he says he’s doing.
It’s one of those rare nights where it’s the three of you at JT’s place and you’re all catching up on the latest episode of Hell’s Kitchen. You’re pretty sure JT cheated and watched the new episode already with how quiet he’s being and how absorbed he is in his phone.
“JT, did you already fucking watch this?” You ask, whipping your head to look at the ginger in question. He’s sitting across the room from you in what he claims as ‘his chair’ while you’re sharing the sectional with Tyson, your feet in his lap. “And you wonder why I never watch shows with you. Tyson and I are going to start watching it without you.”
Tyson chuckles at that, his thighs rumbling under your ankles, his hands coming to rest atop of your shins. JT scoffs at you, unaware of your two’s newfound friendship. To him, the only time you ever saw or even talked to Tyson was when he was also around. Besides, he didn’t need to know the ins and outs of every single thing you did in a day, even if Tyson was involved in a good portion of those things.
You let JT’s previous actions of watching your show ahead slide since the episode was finally wrapping up. JT goes back to the Hulu home screen with an exaggerated yawn followed by stretching his arms above his head. It’s then he turns to his two best friends, letting them know he’s going to start heading to bed and that the two of you are more than welcome to hang out for a little while longer. He doesn’t think much of his offering, but it’s one Tyson’s thankful for if it means he gets uninterrupted time with you that isn’t revolving around the team or drinking.
It’s then he remembers how he never found you on social media, something that had bewildered him in the moment but one he forgot about once he got your phone number and snapchat. 
“So, this is gonna sound totally weird but do you have an Instagram?” He asks, infliction in his voice and ears turning pink at the question. He remembers how not too long ago he did some heavy duty deep dives into JT’s social media to see if he could find your name only to come up empty handed. Your stomach tightens and the thought of him looking for you, and you definitely don’t take it the weird way he’s insinuating.
“No, I don’t,” you respond, sitting up further in the corner of the couch, Tyson bravely holding onto your ankles. “Which definitely makes me the outlier of our generation. I had it for a while but then I kinda just got sick of it and how fake it was starting to get, so I deleted my account. I have not missed even once, too.”
He nods his head in understanding, he’s been there, especially with being a professional athlete. “I’ve been there. I deleted my twitter a while ago because every time I got on there some nobody would be in my notifications about how I was playing. I really didn’t need that, ya know? Like, I play hockey for a living and I’m very aware of when I’m underperforming. So, it was hard when I would get on my phone and see other people telling me the same things.”
Tyson’s fingers began to brush comfortably over your shins and ankles as he spoke, causing you to start slouching back into the couch. 
“I’ve gone back and forth with deleting Instagram but I just can’t seem to make a decision. Besides, I only follow my friends and musicians I like.”
“It’s definitely not for everyone,” you agree with a hum. “The biggest plus is that it gets me off my phone and I’m more absorbed with the real world. It’s all in that book I was reading a while ago that you asked about.”
Tyson remembers that conversation, a smile falling on his lips as he hands rub higher and higher on your calf. The movements are causing you to yawn not a minute later, but you try hard to keep your eyes open to continue to hang out with Tyson. “You a big music guy then?”
Tyson scoffs with a small, playful grip on your leg, “I get the aux in the locker room, so I’d say so. Not a big deal.”
You laugh at his joking manner, snuggling deeper into JT’s couch. Tyson notices how sleepy you’re becoming and he gives your leg another squeeze.
“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” Tyson suggests as he slips from underneath you to his feet.
You chuckle at that, considering you're more than capable to walk the few feet from JT’s door to your own. Before you can respond saying just that, Tyson’s reaching his hand for yours to help you off the couch.
“My mom raised me to be a gentleman, so I’m walking you home even if it is down the hall.”
You accept his offer, the two of you walking in silence until you’re pushing your key into the lock. You turn back to Tyson once you’ve cracked your door open, wanting to take in the silent, all-too-relationship-like feeling this scenario is. Tyson’s eyes drift from where they’re focused on your eyes to your lips, before he’s scratching the back of his head, a sign of nervousness you’ve quickly caught on to.
“Goodnight, Tyson,” you smile softly, leaning up on your sock clad toes to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a hug. His arms wrap around your middle; his back bending over at an awkward angle to properly reach you. You breathe in his musky scent as his hands spread out over the small of your back. The scruffiness of his beard against the side of your face has you giggling as you pull away. 
“Goodnight, y/n,” Tyson reciprocates your smile, walking a few steps backwards before finally turning around and heading to the elevator. Your eyes linger on his toned thighs and maybe even his butt under the cotton of his joggers as he walks the all too familiar way hockey players walk, before finally entering your apartment.
JT’s sitting on your couch this time around, rather than you sitting on his, a too large glass of wine perched in his hand as the two of you catch up. He’s been busy with morning skates and a string of back-to-backs with a road game sprinkled in the middle. It’s getting to be that part of the season where it’s ‘all gas, no breaks’ as he likes to say. They had an earlier than normal game today due to it being a national broadcast on a Sunday, so the two of you ordered take out from one of your usual spots and parked your asses on your couch for the night.
“I feel like we haven’t had best friend time in so long,” JT groans, sipping down the remnants of his wine before standing up for a refill.
“Not all of us can travel the continent on a regular basis,” you chirp with a laugh, one JT matches. The tv show murmurs in the background, it’s one you completely forgot about as JT relates stories and updates on his sisters to you.
“I still can’t believe Jesse graduates soon,” JT starts. “Like, soon when we go to Boston it won’t be the annual family trip since two of the kids are actually in the same city for a change.”
“But that’s so awesome for her, you have to remember that. How’s her season going?”
“They’re doing good, winning games and taking names, she’s really stepped into her captaincy role.” The smile on JT’s face is contagious, causing you to mirror it. You had only met his family a handful of times, only whenever they made the trip out to Denver every now and then. His sister’s, even if you didn’t talk to them regularly, were like your own at this point. JT loved to joke that you were the third sister he never wanted but still somehow ended up with. It was part of the reason he was always trying to set you up with his friends, because to him, if he already knew them, then he knew he trusted them with you. It was more of a joke when it first started over a year ago, but the guy’s he mentioned started to become more serious considerations on your end before you ended up always telling him no.
You were more than okay with being single, being independent, being a woman that never looked for male validation and instead lived life purely for yourself and the people you choose to include with you in that life. JT understood that more than anyone else, that’s why the thoughts you consistently had about Tyson were being shoved deep down inside of you in fear that JT would laugh at the idea and tell you not a chance in hell. It’s why those times you caught each other staring you never did anything about it, or how JT was still unbeknownst to the close friendship you started with him.
It’s why now there’s a silence between the two of you as you take a too-long sip of your wine, a way to stall before opening your mouth and getting JT’s opinion on all of this. You set your glass down on your thigh, your spare hand running along the stem of the glass as you start to speak, avoiding looking over at JT as you do so,
“You know how I don’t date or whatever,” you start, your lip caught between your teeth. You glance over at the redhead on the other couch, seeing him knit his eyebrows as he sets his phone down next to him.
“Yeah,” he draws out, confusion laced in his tone
“Well, I was thinking of maybe getting back out there or something,” you shrug your shoulders, unsure of how to really continue this conversation so you end up on the topic of Tyson being that someone you get back out there with.
“Did someone ask you out?” JT immediately asks with a shake of his head, wondering where all of this is coming from. His full attention is on you now and there’s no way to avoid his eyes as you respond.
“No, I was just thinking about it, I don’t know.”
“Did you, like, have someone in mind?” JT asks, the definitive knit in his forehead still there.
You purse your lips in thought. This would be the time to drop his teammate’s name you think to yourself. His name is heavy on your tongue as you take one more sip of your drink, “Tyson’s kinda cute.”
You say it simply, with a shrug in your shoulders, hoping the ease of your posture radiates towards JT. It doesn’t, just as you expect, a choked out cackle leaving his lips, before he says a harsh ‘no’. The comment deflates you, the knot in your stomach only tightening, mainly because you weren’t really asking him a question and just trying to get that thought out into the open for the first time. JT doesn’t read that as you respond back, telling him was just a thought anyways.
You drop it at that, thoughts running through your head of your close friendship with his teammate, one that’s very close to blurring that line between just friends and something more. It's a problem for another day you think, shoving the thought to the back of your mind as Tyson’s name flashes across your phone screen.
A few more weeks pass of Tyson and you hanging out at JT’s apartment, only for Tyson to follow you to your own apartment before he’d leave for the rink for his game. He slowly began going through his pre-game routine at your place, only to leave with JT under the guise that they would carpool together since his apartment building was on his way to Ball Arena.
Tyson’s cooking his pregame meal in your kitchen, something he had yet to do but when you had told him you had never eaten squash the other day, he made a point to make it his favorite way, even if it meant eating dinner at 4:30. His game day suit was hanging by his coat in your coat closet, you wouldn’t tell him but it was your favorite suit of his. The navy cashmere made the highlights in his dark brown hair pop out and was a nice contrast to his tan skin. He was taking the squash out of the oven, laughing as you made yet another comment on not knowing that was how a squash was cooked.
“What does a squash even taste like?” You ask, peering over the kitchen table to watch him as he places the pan onto the oven to cool down. The bright yellow and oranges of the fruit freak you out a bit, but the smell of garlic and parmesan cheese brings a smile to your face.
“It’s like earthy and nutty, I don’t know. I’m not a Food Network chef.”
The comment has you rolling your eyes with a laugh as you stand up from your chair to retrieve plates and silverware. 
“What are you doing?” Tyson asks with a whip of his head as his eyes follow your movements.
You look at him quizzically, pausing your movements on your tippy toes as you reach for the dinner plates, “setting the table?”
“I can do that,” Tyson starts, reaching out for the plates in your hand and setting them on the counter in front of you. “I’m the one cooking.”
“Exactly,” you reason, “And this is my apartment so I know where everything is.”
“I’m wining and dining you, well minus the wine since I have a game.” Tyson shrugs, tending to the squash on the pan and the veggies surrounding it. “That reminds me, the guys are going out after the game, you should come.”
You move around the kitchen as he speaks, filling up two glasses of water to set on the table. He plates the food as he finishes speaking and sets them on the table. It looks colorful and delicious and you’re shocked he can cook something that seems so complicated, especially since you know JT can only cook a burger and some random pasta dish.
“Well, I am going to the game so I don’t see why not,” you finally answer. You hadn’t gone out in weeks it seemed like, mainly due to your earlier than normal mornings and that you were the only single one out of most of your friends. All of your coworkers lived with their partners and were usually the type to bail on a night out so they could stay home. The few single friends you did have lived on completely different schedules than you, so they were either getting home late from work which was around the same time you’d need to call it a night, or were like you and too worried about early mornings to do anything.
But it was a Thursday, and you had taken the weekend off so it was a perfect time to catch your first Avs game of the season, even if it was already a few days into March and the season was halfway over. The both of you eat your dinner with a few laughs, Tyson telling you about how he forced himself to learn to cook over the past two years of living by himself. He even shared a few horror stories of when he lived with JT and Kerf, giving you plenty of dirt to use as blackmail if necessary. 
“Dinner was really good, thank you,” you acknowledge standing up and grabbing his plate from him.
“You liked the squash, eh?”
“It wasn’t too bad,” you reply playfully. He knew you liked it with how quickly you scarfed it down and the profuse compliments you offered him. As you clear off the dishes and load the dishwasher, Tyson disappears down the hall only to reappear dressed in his suit, save for the jacket and tie. 
“Who are you sitting with tonight? I never asked.” Tyson speaks, making the job of tying his tie look easy as he’s not even looking in the mirror to do so.
“Oh, my coworker, Amelia, and her girlfriend, Gabby,” you respond, leaning back against the counter as you watch Tyson finish up with the details of his suit like putting his cufflinks on and checking his hair in the mirror by your front door.
For a reason Tyson knows too well but ignores, a weight falling off his shoulders as he hears you saying you’re not going with a potential date. But then again, he knows you’re not dating and you more than likely would’ve declined his offer to go out afterward if that were the case. Tyson checks his watch for the time, seeing it’s about time to knock on JT’s door to grab him.
“So, I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”
“Yep, I’ll meet you and JT down by the locker rooms so we can all head out together. Maybe I’ll finally get to meet the infamous Cale.”
The Avs scoot by with a tough division win, one that’s needed to put them in first place in the Central by two points. You’re standing in the hallway of the locker rooms among the other WAG’s that you don’t really recognize due to your lack of knowledge on who’s who. Your nose is buried deep in your phone as you shoot off a text to Amelia telling her to let you know when she gets home safely when you recognize Tyson’s familiar Canadian accent followed by JT’s booming laughter. The two of them reach you, both of them giving you quick hugs before walking to the parking garage.
“Who’s jersey you got on there?” Tyson asks with a nudge of his shoulder into yours. You look down at the 19 stitched into your shoulder with a smirk.
“Only the best Av to ever play the game,” you respond, to which JT rolls his eyes. Tyson’s look of confusion doesn’t change as you answer, still pretty keen to the fact that you’ve never really talked hockey with him besides the stories about practices he’d share with you. “Never told you I didn’t like hockey, just said I never went to games.”
“I’ve tried to get her one of my jerseys and she literally told me she’d return it,” JT interrupts before Tyson can respond. You open your mouth to chirp him back but before you can, JT is calling shotgun once Tyson’s car is in view.
The bar isn’t as packed as you thought it would be, given half of the Avalanche roster was occupying more than a few booths. Andre takes a seat across from where you’re sandwiched between JT and Tyson - a seating arrangement you’re not sure how you got in.
The first round of drinks slowly turns into the third, and you’re no longer squished between two bruly hockey players since JT has found a home at the pool table with Nate and Naz. You had finally met Cale, the blush on cheeks matching Tyson’s description of them. You shared book recommendations with one another while Tyson had wandered off to the bar. It’s then you learn that Tyson’s kind of taken him under his wing, despite the very small age gap and that they live in the same building. Your eyes catch him as he chats with the bartender and a dirty blonde that’s close to his height that you very much did not recognize.
She’s all legs and has an award winning smile from what you see from fifteen away. Tyson’s turned away from you, his back facing you, and if you could see his face filled with that smile that’s showing he’s just trying to be polite to the stranger.
It’s then that you start to fully allow yourself to notice not only the physical attraction you feel towards your new friend, but the emotional one as well. It’s not overwhelming by any means, but the pit in your stomach can only be described as jealousy — a feeling you don’t have much experience with. 
You see two new glasses being set in front of them at the same time, assuming that Tyson had bought the stranger a drink. That pit in your stomach only tightens, the smile on your face from Cale’s story falling as you continue to watch them interact. 
The pair only talk for a few minutes before the girl walks away, a defeated look on her face. With he departure, you make your way across the hardwood floor to meet him at the bar, nudging his side lightly as you mirrored his stance. He smiled as you greeted him, noting that this was the first time in hours he got you all to himself. You were just as outgoing as he and JT were, always butting into conversations when you had something to say. 
“I never asked if you had fun at the game,” he asks, voice somehow still soft even in the loudness of the bar. His voice raises goosebumps on your arms, as you hum before responding.
“It was fun, definitely a good game, just a little too much third wheeling for my liking but I’ll take what I can get.”
The comment is a nod to the feeling Tyson knows all too well, one the two of you seem to always share funny stories about with a dramatic use of eye rolls. You ignore the fact that not even a few minutes prior you were plotting that girl’s death, too busy and entranced with Tyson’s presence.
The night continues to pass with just the two of you in your own little world. You find yourself up on your tiptoes, an arm resting on his muscular bicep as you lean up to speak into his ear. His lips move alongside your temple as he speaks, the scruff of his beard against your forehead causing you to giggle. You’re not even sure if JT or any of the other guys are even still around, but your bubble pops as JT calls your name. You turn your body towards the ginger, your hand on Tyson’s bicep not moving as he says that you two should find an Uber soon.
“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ll be out in a sec, Tyson was just telling me a story,” you let him know. JT knits his eyebrows at the comment but walks outside with a few of the other guys all heading home.
“How are you getting home?” You ask Tyson once you’re face to face with him again.
“Cale and I are gonna Uber back, too,” Tyson answers, his tongue swiping over his lips slowly. Your eyes watch his movement as time seems to slow down as the two of you keep your eyes focused on the others. His eyes are squintier than normal from the alcohol and you’re yours match his in that regard. You’re pretty sure he’s about to kiss you and for once, you’re actually going to let that person kiss you.
Tyson’s eyes flick behind you momentarily before you see his body semi-deflate. He steps away, your hand falling off his bicep for the first time in at least an hour as he picks up his blazer that’s draped over the stool next to him and nods towards the door.
“I think JT’s looking for you.”
Sure enough when you turn around, JT is in the doorway waving his phone in the air and pointing at it, silently telling you that the Uber is almost here. Your shoulders fall as the moment you were sure was about to happen is ruined. Tyson walks you out of the bar, into the brisk start of Spring air. You’re too busy thinking about how you most definitely would’ve let Tyson kiss you and next thing you know, your foot is slipping on the ice and you’re yelping in surprise.
Tyson catches your waist before you can even hit the cold pavement, and again, you’ve found yourself in a compromising position as Tyson’s face is mere inches from yours. You blink away the embarrassment as JT’s comment about your almost accident goes unnoticed by the both of you. You regather your stance, muttering a quiet thank you to the brunette before hugging him and waving goodbye with a soft smile.
“Dude,” Cale chastises, “You like her don’t you?”
The comment made by his building-mate has him stuttering over his words, trying to figure out an answer that’s not a straight up lie. Cale takes that as his answer, though, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh as the two find their Uber.
“Does JT know?”
“No, because nothing’s going to happen,” Tyson answers curtly as he slumps his shoulders in his seat. “JT told me I couldn't try anything and I’m going to try and respect that. Besides, she doesn’t date so it’s not like I have a real shot or anything.”
“I don’t know, man. She seemed to jump out of her seat and end our conversation when she saw you talking to that girl.”
Cale’s comment silences the two of them for the remainder of the ride back to their building. Tyson hadn’t really paid mind to the fact that the second that girl left, you had appeared and stayed by his side for the remainder of the night. He brushes it off, blaming his inebriated mind for the overthinking before asking Cale how they’ll get his car in the morning.
Tyson wakes up to his phone dinging with a string of texts from you, a smile on his face when sees your name across his screen.
y/n: not sure what you did to me last night but this is the most hungover ive been in forever y/n: thank god i dont have work y/n: jt is still sleeping so im thinking of ditching him to go get breakfast y/n: you in? Tyson: im down Tyson: do you think we could swing by to get my car from the bar too? was gonna have cale drive me but if you can that’d be great
Getting ready for breakfast feels all too real as you do your hair and pick out an outfit before finally brushing your teeth. You tap your fingers an obnoxious amount of times against your steering wheel as you drive to Tyson’s apartment, your lip stuck between your teeth as you softly sing along to the songs flowing through your speakers.
Sitting across from him in the diner feels a little bit suffocating, the events of last night replaying in your mind. The path your eyes follow tends to keep going to his lips before you realize what you’re doing and snapping them right back up to his eyes or to the coffee in your hand. Those lips you sure you were close to kissing last night. He orders some obnoxiously healthy omelette bowl with enough eggs and potatoes on it to feed a house of four, while you get classic french toast.
You don’t miss that opportunity to chirp him, the weight finally off your shoulders as you lighten the mood. Tyson never really caught onto your weirdness, thinking it was some side effect of your hangover. 
“Is french toast your favorite food or something?” Tyson asks, mouth a little full as he finishes chewing. You knit your eyebrows in confusion, partly because yes, it is your favorite breakfast food, but why would he think that if he’s only ever seen you eat it right now in this very moment? He sees your confusion, answering your question before you can even ask it.
“You got french toast that one time we went out with JT and Sydney.”
“Oh, it is, actually,” it dawns on you then, even though that morning was over a month ago at this point. It’s sweet that he remembers that, your neck warming at his comment.
“It’s not a big deal,” Tyson shrugs, shoving another forkful of egg into his mouth. And shit, did you actually say that out loud to him? That misstep has your neck heating up even further as you take a large swig of your coffee, mainly so the large mug blocks your face from him.
“Besides,” Tyson starts with a heavy laugh. “You just about inhaled that from what I remember, so it has to be your favorite.”
You drop your jaw in shock from his very true accusation, a slight laugh coming out, “You’re a dick.”
“Hey, at least I’m a dick that paid for your meal,” Tyson acknowledges in a lighthearted tone. You smile at him at that, him sending you one right back. “And before you say you can pay for this one, this is that meal I promised you a while back when we made brownies.”
It dawns on you then, was this a date? Did you accidentally on purpose ask Tyson out on a date? Tyson can sense the wheels turning in your head and drops that topic, instead telling you all about this new artist he’s found on Spotify.
That day’s a turning point for your relationship with Tyson. You end up following him back to his place then, a strange sense of deja vu coming through. The rest of the day is spent shaking your respected hangovers on his couch, your feet perched on his lap, his body naturally leaning towards yours.
Your head’s full of what ifs as you drive the short way back to your apartment, thoughts surrounding the feelings you’ve been ignoring when it comes to why Tyson looks at you the way he does or why he’s always sending you Tik Tok’s about your newfound inside jokes. Your friendship with him is easy, he’s an easy guy to catch feelings for and an even easier guy to fully allow yourself to do that with.
The thought of your friendship with JT clouds your thoughts, though. Unsure of what you should even do considering how quickly he shot you down when all you said was that his friend was cute. You don’t think much of it, knowing that the feelings that are starting to show need to be reciprocated for you to even face that next set of problems.
Soon you’re catching yourself focusing on the number 17 jersey skating around the ice instead of 37 when you have the time to watch their games. Tyson’s eyes are the ones you’re always finding in a room and he’s the one always refilling your drink without a thought. He’s the one you text after a particularly rough day, and he does the same when the Avs snap their eight game winning record. He’s slowly taking that spot as your best friend over from his teammate, a spot you’re sure is slowly turning into more.
It’s another one of those nights where he’s the one you're constantly looking for. This time back at Andre’s apartment with the guys and few significant others as you celebrate yet another Avalanche playoff berth.
You’re drinking far less than the crowd surrounding you, fully buzzed on the atmosphere that is clinching the number one seed in the division with still so much time left in the season. Unlike the group of people that have the day off the next day, you have work, but the thought of missing this night for your two best friend’s wasn’t an option when Tyson texted you as soon as he made it to the locker room after the game was won. Tyson’s hand seems to never be empty, but you soon learn he’s been nursing the same beer since he got to Andre’s. There’s a heavy feeling of contentment washing over him as he celebrates his fourth straight playoff appearance, alongside setting a Central Division record for the fastest team to clinch.
The air between you two has that same fuzzy feeling it’s had for a few weeks now, ever since you had gone out to breakfast with him hungover. The high from the win still filling his veins, that same high radiating towards you as you continually find your way back to his side throughout the night.
Tyson catches you slipping out the door as the sun is just about finished setting and follows you a moment later. You’re leaning against the railing with your arms folded atop of it. It’s the easiest thing in the world for Tyson to step in behind you and place his hands on either side of yours, bracketing you against the cool metal. 
The wind blows through your hair, causing you to push some strands back behind your ears as you breathe heavily with Tyson’s new presence.
“You doing alright out here?”’ Tyson asks, one of his laying to rest on top of yours, you fingers interlocking with his.
“Yeah, just wanted to take advantage of Andre’s view,” you respond. Andre’s place had everything, the view of downtown Denver, the suburbs stretching outside of the skyscrapers, but he also had the best view of the mountains you had seen from a complex downtown.
The silence continues between the two of you, the sound of the Denver traffic beneath you filling it out. Tyson’s chest moves behind you with a heavy breath before breaking that silence,
“I talked to my mom this morning.”
“Yeah? How is she?”
“She’s good, but, uh, I called her to tell her about this girl,” he trails off, his chest inflating behind you again as the nerves start to tighten in his stomach. You remain silent, there’s an unspoken understanding that this is something he’s been wanting to get off his chest, something that you too feel the weight of.
“I wanted to tell her about this girl and ask her for advice because it’s complicated since she’s best friends with my best friend who’s also my teammate and I didn’t know if I should put my feelings aside for the sake of my friendship or if I shouldn’t let my friend telling me I couldn’t ask her out stand in the way of my feelings for her.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, the sudden knowledge of the weight his words have. His grip around you had tightened as he spoke, causing you to turn around in his arms slower than you would’ve liked to as your eyes find his. His hands move from the railing to rest on your hips, his grip a little tight yet still soft. Your fingers toy with the hem of his cotton t-shirt, one that accentuates his arms more than you’d like to admit.
You’re not naive, you know that this is that tipping point in your friendship that you’ve been avoiding, yet at the same time anxiously waiting for. He’s right there in front of you, all wide eyed with that playful little glimmer in his eyes and that smile that’s always plastered on his face when he’s with you. It’s the confidence in his smile as he speaks that contradicts the doubt in his eyes and the understanding he has where he knows he needs to take this all slow. He’s not just trying to win you over or get you to bed, he’s trying to show you that he’s what you deserve, that the feelings brewing inside your stomach are two sided.
All of those things are conveyed in the little things and how he hasn’t made any unwarranted moves on you and how he’s always reading the situation before trying anything.
It makes you truly let the feelings you have bubble to the surface as you open your mouth to finally respond, “I don’t think you should ignore your feelings.”
It comes out as a whisper, one where the breaths of air hit Tyson in the chin from how close you two are standing. Nothing else needs to be said, your heart racing in your chest at that first admittance of feelings. Tyson searches your eyes for any sense of doubt, making sure he’s interpreting your words correctly. His hand moves to the junction of your neck, his thumb brushing against the hollow of your cheek. Your hands trail up his sides, brushing the stray curl that’s fallen onto his forehead back in place. He leans into your touch, his nose softly brushing against yours as you close your eyes. His breath fans over your mouth and the hair on his upper lip tickles you before his lips are landing on yours. It’s slow and soft and full of fire as you kiss him back.
You pull apart breathless a few moments later, a smile on your face as you bite your lip. His smile is wider than yours, a sense of smugness behind it. His lips find their way to your forehead, placing a soft, lingering kiss there as he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you tightly to him. A few more heavy breaths are shared before his fingers trail back to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip before pulling you in for another kiss.
His touches are welcome and the chill you felt earlier is gone with his presence, your stomach tightening in a million knots at the man standing before you. Everything he feels is portrayed in his soft eyes and those several moments over the past couple of months where it was just the two of you, getting to know one another much more than you thought you ever would with one of JT’s teammates. The space he gave you as he let you explain your fascination with living the life you did, one with no obsession with social media or what other people thought and one where you carefully curated the people you choose to surround yourself with.
Tyson had slowly worked his way into your heart, one that now had his name written all over it. You smile at the thought, still lost in chocolatey, brown eyes and the way he’s looking at you like the gorgeous view of the Smoky Mountains isn’t right behind you.
“We should go back inside,” you say, breaking the little bubble the two of you had just created. Tyson understands, knowing where the two of you were, knowing who’s just on the other side of the door. Neither of you make any moves to go back inside, and you bask in the cool weather, enjoying the other’s warmth before finally opening the door to the rowdiness that is a bunch of professional hockey players.
JT beckons for you when he sees you come back inside, too drunk to ask where you’ve been for the past fifteen minutes. He’s dragging you to the kitchen, begging you with his eyes to make the room a round of drinks. Tyson smiles at you from a few feet away, silently telling you he’ll find you eventually. He does, making his way to you when everyone’s drink needs are met, his presence causing your stomach to tighten even if he is standing a few feet away from you. 
Both of you lay off the drinks for the rest of the night, already tipsy enough from your drinks earlier and in a silent agreement that there’s more to talk about between the two of you once the crowd thins and everyone's on their way home. JT disappears into thin air it seems like until he’s practically yelling that he’s called an Uber for you two.
“I think I’m actually gonna stay for a little longer,” you answer, eyes drifting over to where Tyson is talking with Cale and Andre. He sees you glance over at him, sending a smile right back your way causing you to blush before telling JT he’s fine to head home and that you’ll text him when you get home.
The room starts to clear out after that, Andre’s front door opening and closing every few minutes as Uber’s are called and before you know it you’re in the back of a Kia Sorento, laughing at the lie Tyson told Cale that led to him getting an Uber by himself and your hands tightly intertwined on your lap.
You find out a few months later that he didn’t lie, he just told him that he had finally gotten the nerve to kiss you.
The elevator ride up to his apartment is full of giggles, those giggles only continuing as he fumbles through unlocking his front door. He tells you to stop making fun of him under his breath, a blush spreading from the tips of his ears to his nose.
He’s pulling you inside once the door is unlocked, causing you to lose your balance from the pull. Your laughs quiet down as he stares down at you, that smile you're familiar with nowhere to be found as he licks his lips. He’s pulling you in with those big, brown eyes of his and then you’re kissing him wildly, barely a few feet into his home.
“We should talk about this,” you mutter against his lips, not fully wanting to break away from him. He’s connecting your lips before you can continue, too addicted to the feeling of finally having his lips on yours.
“What is there to talk about?”
“Us, what this is,” you respond between kisses.
Tyson pulls away this time, resting his forehead against yours. He knows the logistics of all of this needs to be worked out, but right now he doesn’t want to think about how he’s making out with JT’s neighbor or his inevitable murder if JT finds out before one of you can tell him.
“Let’s worry about the consequences tomorrow, because right now I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he reasons, dipping his head down to place his lips right below your jaw. “And if the way you’re kissing me is any sign, then I’d say we’re on the same page about how we feel.”
You moan as Tyson’s teeth nip at the skin, his tongue poking past his lips out onto your neck and goosebumps are popping up all along your skin.
You give into him then, too intoxicated in his warmth and the taste of Bud Light on his mouth. It’s a conversation for you in the morning when you’re both nursing your hangovers over a cup of coffee. Your lips move along his hungrily, his hands gripping your face before sliding down your sides and squeezing your ass through your jeans. You tug your fingers through the long curls behind his ears, him pushing you against the nearest wall with a thud and a rattle of a picture frame.
Your lips move along his softly, the passion and fire laced in it enough to cause a wave of electricity through your veins and down to in between your thighs. He’s towering over you with his big personality and his wide shoulders and you feel like you need to get impossibly closer to him as you pull him in by the fabric of his t-shirt. His hands fall to the wall on either side of your head.
“God, I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” Tyson huffs out, causing a quick chuckle to run through your body. It’s quick because as soon as the words are out of Tyson’s mouth, his lips are already back on yours.
“You’re gonna have to stop kissing me if you want to fuck me,” you mutter out, a sly smirk on your lips as you watch Tyson’s eyes grow darker at the insuination. The hands that were bracketing you against the wall slide down to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip again before pushing past your lips. You keep your eyes on his as you suck on the digit, your tongue swirling around it. His resolve slips away from you for a moment, before his other hand drags down your side until his fingers push under your top, the warm fingers ghosting over the skin of your ribs.
His breath is heavy against you, the growing bulge causing his jeans to tighten around him. You’re feeling bold then, as you feel him against your stomach with his thumb still in your mouth and his hand tight around your jaw. He’s frozen in front of you as he watches your eyes, that stupid smirk finally wiped off his face as your hands move under his shirt, your nails scraping against the tight muscles. You hold back both a comment about his abs and a moan at the feeling, all the hard work he’s put into his body clearly paying off as you push his shirt up his chest and over his head.
Your nails drag back down his chest and torso before looping in the waistband of the boxers peeking out from his jeans. His thumb falls from your mouth, the wet digit leaving a trail of your saliva on your chin as you work on pulling his jeans down. His head tips back with a low groan as his member springs free and you sink down to your knees, his hand finding purchase on the back of your head while the other is used to brace himself against the wall.
Tyson sucks in a breath as your hand reaches out to grip the base of his cock, tugging softly a few times as you lick the tip. His mouth waters at the sight of your lips wrapping around the head, your eyes looking right back up at him. You hum around him as you swallow him down, the vibrations causing a groan to escape from Tyson’s mouth. He feels euphoric, even if you haven’t had your mouth on him for more than 60 seconds. His hips involuntarily thrust forward at the wet feeling your mouth gives as you hollow your cheeks around him. 
Tyson continued to moan above you as you moved your mouth along him, both of your hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. Tyson’s hand is heavy on the back of your head, not using it to push you deeper onto him, but to ground him as he starts to see stars embarrassingly fast in his eyes.
He pulls you off him then, pulling you up to your feet to stand in front of him once again. There’s a dribble of saliva mixed with his pre-cum on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb before pulling you in for another harsh kiss. He pushes the two of them to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss as he sheds your shirt and pushes you down onto his bed. You giggle again, the hunger in his eyes all too real as he crawls over your body until he’s hovering over you.
“You’re so fucking beautfiul,” he whispers into your ear, causing shivers to shoot down your body. He runs his hands along your bare sides up to your breasts as he kisses down your neck. His hands brush along your lace covered nipples, making you sharply inhale a breath and arch your back against him. He pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, his lips still nipping at the skin on your collarbone. He looks down at you again, a sensual look in his eyes that you mirror. His lips attach to one of your nipples, the other being tended to by his fingers as twists and pulls the bud between his thumb and forefinger.
Your hands find purchase in the curls atop his head, pulling at the strands as he breathes a huff of cool air onto your npple before switching to the other one. He makes his way down your body painfully slow, a trail of kisses being left down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He tugs them off just as quickly as he stripped you from your shirt, his eyes locking on the sage green thong you’re wearing and the very obvious wet patch between your legs. He’s impatient from the brief blowjob you gave him and the fact that he’s been imaging this exact moment for far too long now. His fingers dip into the strap of your underwear, his eyes finding yours and asking if this is okay. You respond with a resounding yes as he pulls the underwear off of you.
His lips leave kisses along your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders as his mouth finally makes his way to your center. His beard is rough against the skin of your thighs, a sensation only causing you to whine as he breathes over your clit.
“Tyson,” you whine, causing him to smirk before pressing his tongue to your entrance. The cool, wetness of his tongue has you catching your breath and fisting the sheets underneath you. Tyson moaned against you at the taste as he licked over you a few more times. His lips wrap around your clit, this time causing a full, throaty moan to release from your mouth. One of your hands found its way to his head, holding him impossibly closer to you, the other finding his hand as he interlocks your fingers together.
His tongue dives into your opening, fucking into you as his other arm wraps around your thigh so he can rub his thumb at your clit. His tongue licked around you entrance, alternating between that and fucking into you. His thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing circles hoping to get you to that tipping point, the one you felt nearing with every pass of his tongue over you. Your back arched off the bed, your hips pushing further into Tyson’s face as you felt your high near. Tyson continued at the same pace, pushing you over the edge as you moaned out his name.
He continued to lick softly at you, his thumb slowing down on your clit as he lifted his head up to kiss at your collarbone. The kisses he leaves along your inner thighs gives you time to catch your breathing, your chest still heaving from your orgasm. It’s short lived as his thumb on your clit slides down to your entrance, spreading your wetness around before pushing a finger into you. 
His lips make their way back to your clit with the same smirk he had on his face a few minutes ago, wrapping his lips around the bud as he moves he added another finger. You clench down him at the feeling, moans and heavy breaths of air escaping your mouth as Tyson worked his fingers against your g-spot and his mouth worked over your clit. Your hand squeezes his, the pressure becoming too much so soon after your first orgasm. It doesn’t take long for you to groan out his name again as you clench down on his fingers, your second orgasm rushing through you.
He stays down there a moment longer, but you pull him up by his hair, just wanting his lips on yours and his body hovering over you. His beard is wet from both his spit and your juices, and it has you licking your lips and craning your neck upwards. You pull him in with both of your hands, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on him.
The kiss is heavy, his hands running along your body trying to memorize every dip and curve, the heavy weight of his member on your hip. His curls tickled your forehead, the kiss turning soft as he splayed a hand on your cheek to pull you in tighter. The head of his dick brushed over your mound, a shiver running through you at the feelings, your hips bucking up towards his with a small whine.
You reach your hand down between your bodies to tug on him softly, a whine leaving Tyson’s lips, one that’s swallowed by your kisses. It’s unspoken between the two of you as pulls away from you, only to push your hand away from him and give himself a few tugs as he settles heavily between your thighs.
You share a look, one that’s gleeful and full of smiles as he licks his lips and slowly pushes into you. You moan and whimper at the feeling of him inside of you, your hands clawing at his shoulder blades to pull his body flush against your own.
“You good?” He asks, referring to if you’re ready for him to start moving.
“Yeah,” you whine, looking into his eyes smiling, “I’m good.”
There’s a pause as you answer, both of you understanding the double-meaning behind your answer. It’s more than just telling him you feel good physically, but that you feel more than that when he’s with you.
He leans in to kiss you again, starting a slow pace as he thrusts into you. He moaned out at how tight you were, how well you were taking him as he kissed you. He picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster, with more purpose as he rested on his elbows above you, looking into your eyes. You always got lost in those eyes of his, as he hit your g-spot you tilted your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. They weren’t closed for long as Tyson grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him once again.
“I wanna look at you,” he muttered as he leaned back down to kiss you. Your moans filled the room as the layer of sweat started to thicken on your bodies, his chest rubbing against yours. He lifted your thigh and pushed it against your chest, the new angle causing the knots to tighten in your stomach as you felt you high nearing. Your lips found their way to his neck and down to the dips of his collarbone. Biting down into the flesh as you moan out again, Tyson’s pace quickening as he feels you clenching around him.
“I’m so close,” you moan out, Tyson hitting you deeply. He could feel himself getting close too, his hips starting to stutter as he moved inside of you. Your breasts bouncing as he pounds into you, your eyes screwing shut as your orgasm starts to wash over you. Tyson swallows your moans as he kisses you through your third orgasm.
His breaths are heavy as his orgasm comes soon after yours, spilling into you as he slows his pace down and gently lowers his body weight onto yours. You two stay like that for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in that post-sex afterglow. He removes himself once you’ve both settled, a whimper leaving your mouth at the newfound emptiness. He disappears to his bathroom, coming right back with a washcloth as he cleans you up. You thank him as he runs the cool, wet cloth over the insides of your thighs, pulling him back for another quick kiss before he disappears into the bathroom once more.
When he gets back, he lays down next to you, pulling your body snug against his. His chest is warm and still a little sticky from the sweat. Your fingers draw aimless patterns along his bare chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and you feel the upturn of his lips when he pulls away. You smile up at him then, leaning up and puckering your lips, asking for a kiss. He obliges with a soft hum and rubs your arm gently before you’re falling asleep against him, a few drops of drool falling onto his chest.
The morning rolls around too quickly for your liking, the curls on Tyson’s head ticking the back of your neck. Neither of you are in a rush to move as he smiles against the bare skin of your back, a few kisses being placed there as you hum and hold his arms tighter to your torso. He’s up from bed moments later, a sweet kiss lingering on your lips as you watch his naked form emerge from bed and pull on a pair of sweats. Your eyes watch over the ripples of muscles between his shoulder blades, down his back and over his ass before he’s running around his apartment in search of your thong.
He remerges with it draped over his finger, a smirk on his lips before he flings it at you, causing a giggle to erupt from your stomach. You pull them on, a large t-shirt being tossed your way to drape over your shoulders. You follow him out to his kitchen then, a small pit in your stomach at the realization of the conversation that needs to be had, the small bubble you’re in at its popping point.
You jump onto his island counter, the coolness of the granite sending shivers down your bare legs, his back to you as he starts the coffee pot. He’s just in a pair of sweats, bright red lines on display on his back. You squeeze your legs together as you cross them, the actions of your late night antics running vividly through your mind.
He presses the warm mug into your hands, his now free hand pushing open your legs to step between them. He’s so close then, probably the closest you’ve really been to him with a sober brain. The heat from his torso radiates towards you, warming not only your skin but your insides as well as you smile at him. He’s still got that wide, goofy smile plastered on his face, the one you’ve grown to love and to look forward to seeing.
Tyson’s hands move to rest on the counter on either side of you, the close proximity between your faces causes you to set your mug down and move your hands to his shoulders.
“What’s going through your mind, pretty girl?” The new pet name has you mentally squealing, your chest tightening as your cheeks heat up.
“Just how last night I was so adamant to talk about everything, but now I’m not so sure I want to break our little bubble,” you start, the huff of breath air coming out softly as you avoid his eye contact, even if he is a few inches away from your face.
It’s hard to concentrate on relaying your feelings to him and fully opening up to a man for the first time in a long time with him standing right there in front of you, in all his shirtless glory — the defined lines of his pecs and abs, the veins protruding from his arms, and the few purple bruises you’d left on the dips of his collarbones. It’s always been hard to think straight around him, you realize, with the way his presence gives you a comforting buzz and that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.
Tyson’s quiet as he watches over you, he licks his lips in thought, a silent hum of agreement coming out. He’s in the exact same boat, the outcome of this conversation not one he’s too scared of, knowing that the way he feels is reciprocated, but rather what the next step is with the best friend you two share. He’s leaning closer into you, a small smile as he places another soft kiss on your lips. It’s one you get lost in, gentle and blissful as your lips move slowly against his. He pulls away first, something he wasn’t able to do last night, before finally being able to put his thoughts into words.
“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page with this. We’re taking a big risk doing this behind JT’s back and I want you to know, no matter what, the risk is worth it with you,” he starts, voice soft and still scratchy from the morning. “And I know you don’t date because you put yourself first and if that’s what you want to do then I’m okay with that, too.”
Your heart melts at the words, your hands cradling his face. Tyson’s always been better with words and feelings than you have over your short friendship with him. The metaphorical door is already wide open in front of you, it’s just a matter of taking that one more small step through it with Tyson, or shutting it and never turning back.
“I don’t date because most people don’t like having independent girls as their girlfriend’s. I put time into myself to be the best person I can be, not only for myself but for others and they don’t like that stuff,” you start to explain, your hands falling from his face to hold both of his hands. “I like you, a lot, Tys, and I want to be with you.”
He smiles wildly at that, the doubt draining from his eyes as he opens his mouth to respond.
You interrupt him though, with a huff of air as you continue speaking, “But JT’s my best friend and I don’t want to hurt him either.”
And Tyson fully understands where you’re coming from, because he’s been struggling with that for the past few months ever since he met you. He thinks back to that conversation on the plane all that time ago and how JT firmly told him to not try anything, but now as he really thinks about it, he’s not sure he meant it because of him and that it was more so because he cared for you and didn’t want to see you get hurt in general.
You can see in his eyes that same wide open door you’re thinking about, the one where you get to explore a relationship with the quirky, optimistic, competitive guy in front of you. The guy that matches your level of confidence as you, the guy that lets you be stubborn and lets you live out that stubbornness because he’s the most patient person you’ve ever met.
The decision’s easy as he stands in front of you, putting the ball in your court, your lip caught between your teeth. He’s waiting for you then, waiting for you to walk through that door or close it and walk out of his apartment. He’s hopeful, knowing that last night wasn’t a fluke and that all the kisses you’ve already shared are real and full of passion and those feelings you’ve been dancing around.
That’s when you give in, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him into you with that toothy smile of yours as you place your lips on his hungrily. It’s a kiss full of teeth as he smiles against you, his hands coming to cradle your face as you kiss. It’s much more addicting now that you’re sober and you fully agree with Tyson’s comment from last night about how he’s never going to want to stop kissing you.
You decide later that day that there’s no rush in telling JT, instead opting to see how things go between the two of you for a few weeks. Those two weeks are full of plenty of quality time, a coincidental home stand falling during that time meaning you get him to yourself before facing the reality that is how much he travels. You’re sure you can handle everything the new relationship can throw at you, the honeymoon phase lasting long as the two of you skirt around how you’ll tell JT whenever that time comes.
“I need to leave now if I want to leave for the rink and not see JT,” Tyson warns, prying away from your warm body in bed. You whined in response, wanting to have his warmth for just a little while longer. You let him escape from your grasp, only after asking for one too many kisses. You follow him out into your kitchen, watching him as he pulls on his shoes and finds his keys.
“You sure I can’t get you to stay for at least a cup of coffee?” You muse, giving it one more shot to spend time with him before your work week starts. You make your way to where he’s lingering in your entryway, looking extra cozy with his hood over his messy head of curls. You wrap your arms around his middle, slipping your hands under the cotton of his hoodie to feel his skin against yours. 
He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips, giggling when you follow him as he pulls away, “I really need to get going.”
“Fine,” you hum. “I’ll see you when you get back from Dallas?”
Tyson nods his head with a hum in answer, finally pulling open your front door to get to his car downstairs in the garage without running into JT. But luck isn’t on his side this morning and he gives you one more goodbye hug and kiss in the doorway before shutting the door behind him and coming face to face with a certain redheaded teammate a few feet down.
JT’s eyebrows are knitted as he takes his key out of the lock. His mouth opens a few times in confusion before any words come out. “What was that?”
Tyson doesn’t think he’s ever been at such a loss for words as he is right now. He looks between the door he just shut and his friend a few times, trying to wrap his brain around what this scene looks like. It’s not even 8:30 in the morning on Sunday, and to anyone, this looks like the start of a walk of shame.
“Uh, y/n and I were hanging out and we fell asleep so she let me sleep in her guest room,” Tyson lies. He hopes it’s convincing, his voice didn’t waver but his hands flailed around a little more than normal when he talks and he scratched his beard, something he always does when he’s nervous.
“I’m pretty sure I just saw you kiss her,” JT explains, voice stern as he completely turns to look at Tyson. “And you don’t just kiss people goodbye.”
Tyson stumbles over an explanation for that, no logical reason coming to mind.
“You were just kissing y/n!” JT exclaims, a rise in his voice as he starts to fill in the blanks. Now he’s starting to connect the dots of your tendency to bail on him on the nights you’d normally hang out and Tyson’s lack of interest in guys’ night or after game celebrations with the team. The giggling he would hear through the wall late at night, the girly squeals, and the few times he remembered hearing the bedpost hit against your shared wall a little too hard for his liking. “You just fucking kissed my best friend after I told you to not get involved with her!”
Tyson moves to close the distance between him and his best friend, but JT takes one back, effectively cancelling it out. Tyson’s opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out the best course of action for this premature conversation. The two of you had just figured everything out in the past few days, telling JT about your newfound relationship hadn’t even come up in conversation yet.
“How long has this been going on for?”
“Barely two weeks,” Tyson stutters out, watching as JT’s face fills with more anger. “Comph, just let me explain,” he tries again, but JT just shakes his head and heads for the doorway for the stairwell instead of the elevator. It’s a huge flight of stairs given that he lives on the 11th floor of the building. He wants to follow his friend, but knows that space is what he needs and instead presses the button for the elevator and gets in, leaving him alone in his thoughts.
When he meets up with him at the rink, JT’s still avoiding him which is hard considering their stalls are only separated by one other in the locker room. Cale hadn’t even made it to the rink yet, so someone wasn’t even there to put up a wall between the two. Gabe takes notice as he walks around the room after taping his ankles, his eyebrows knitting at the fact that Tyson, who’s normally cheery even this early in the morning and bugging JT, is putting on his pads and skates with his mouth shut. 
It’s something Gabe puts in the back of his mind, just thinking that Tyson had a rough night or morning. It’s during morning skate that Gabe, and almost everyone else, notices something is off between the pair. JT doesn’t chirp him like normal when they take face-offs against one another, he’s not by his side in between drills, and JT sticks his stick out a little too far during a one-on-one, sending Tyson to the ice during a drill that no one should be falling during. Bednar thinks nothing of it, just telling Tyson to stay on his two feet. 
Practice eventually ends but the silent treatment between the two continues. JT’s uncharacteristically quiet to everyone that talks to him, something clearly on his mind. Meanwhile Tyson’s nerves are causing him to not shut up as Cale shares a story about his rough commute this morning.
As Tyson and Cale quiet down, Gabe steps in, pointing between the two of them, “What’s up with you two today?”
“Nothing,” Tyson lies quickly, not wanting anyone else to get involved in this. Even if their captain is just trying to help, Tyson’s not sure there’s anything Gabe can say to help. 
JT scoffs, tying his shoes before standing up, “He’s fucking my best friend.” Cale, who was taking him leisurely time with getting dressed suddenly stands up and crosses the room to where Gravy was, avoiding any possible conflict.
Gabe’s eyes pop out of his head as Tyson responds, “we’re not fucking.”
“So the banging into my wall last night wasn’t you?” JT asks in an accusatory tone.
“Well, we’re not like,” Tyson starts, gesturing his hands in front of his body in a way to finish that sentence, soon realizing he doesn’t want to add fuel to fire by saying he was in fact fucking his best friend last night. “It’s not just that, we’re together.”
Gabe, who thought this was probably a misunderstanding of one of Tyson’s pranks or even just JT not winning a stupid bet, is just as shocked as JT was a few hours agao when he saw two of his best friends kissing. The captain isn’t entirely sure of how to navigate this situation, one that hasn’t really happened in any of his locker rooms. He doesn’t have much else to say to the two of them other than to figure it out and that a girl shouldn’t get between two friends that are as close as they are.
With that, Tyson’s trying to apologize to JT, tell him that there’s more to the story but JT wants nothing of it, and is throwing his jacket on and running out the door. Everything in Tyson’s being wants to follow him back to his place and beg for him to hear him out, but instead he’s racing back to your place, ignoring the fact that he still has to pack for their quick road trip.
Tyson all about sprints up the 11 flights of stairs to your door, knocking on your door with urgency until the door swings open. You move to the side as you let him in, clearly seeing how frantic he is with his flushed cheeks and the excessive knocking.
“JT saw me leave this morning,” Tyson lets out, a little out of breath from his run up the stairs. Tyson’s waiting for you to respond but you’re still not getting it. “He saw me kiss you goodbye and then didn’t talk to me all practice then when Landy confronted us he was just like ‘Tyson’s fucking my best friend’ and I tried to explain but-”
“Tys,” you interrupt his rambling, taking a step forward to reach out to him. Your hands grab his in an attempt to ground him, your thumbs rubbing back and forth on the back of his hands. “It’ll be okay.”
“He literally tripped me in practice today!”
“That’s because he can be a petty asshole. He doesn’t hate you, he probably just feels betrayed because he didn't know any of this was going on.” You try to console him, pushing all of your anxieties and paranoia aside to deal with the panicking boy in front of you.
“Let me talk to him, you need to go home and pack for your road trip since I know you haven’t yet.”
“But,”
“I’ll come over right after and update you, I promise.”
WIth that, Tyson kisses you goodbye as you push him to the elevator with a promise that everything is going to be okay before giving yourself a pep talk and bursting into JT’s apartment next to yours.
He spots you before you can greet him and you can see quite a few different feelings crossing over his face.
“Oh, God, are you here to also tell me that you’re not just fucking my best friend, too?” JT scoffs, causing your heart to plummet into your ass. “I really don’t want to listen to any excuses you may have about this.”
“Stop being an asshole for just one second and let me explain,” you reprimand him, already over the fact that your so-called best friend won’t even hear you out. “How is this any different from the countless times you tried to set me up with your friends? Is this not the same thing?”
It’s a genuine question that shuts up JT, because really, it’s not much different in your eyes. For over a year now, JT’s been showing you pictures of buddies he has from back home or from college or even friends of friends that he’d think would suit you. You had always turned him down because to you, dating wasn’t something you wanted other people to really interfere with, even if some of his friends were young, successful, bachelor types.
“Because it’s Tyson,” JT answers simply with a shrug of his shoulders. You look at him, hands clenching at your sides with the vague and uninterested tone. He’s barely even looking at you as he tidies up his kitchen, something he always did when trying to fill silence.
“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously. “You’ve told me a million times he’s one of the best people you’ve ever met.” You bite your tongue from adding a comment about how he is one of the best people you’ve also met.
“The other guys weren’t professional athletes, it’s pretty simple from how I see it.”
“But you could set me up with your friends from Chicago and New York and Michigan but I find one of your friends here in Denver then it’s off limits? Because he plays a sport for a living? If that’s the case then I shouldn’t be friends with you either.” It’s a low blow, you know that, but it finally catches his attention as he drops the cloth he’s wiping the counter with. His eyes finally connect with yours and it’s then he finally notices how hurt you are by the lack of emotion in both his words and his body language. There are tears in your eyes as you look up at the ceiling to try and even your breathing.
“It's an honor for anyone to have a place in my life JT and that includes you,” you continue. “Tyson understands that. He understands that I'm my own person before anything else but he’s still there when I'm stubborn. I've been single for so long and I truly know what I want, what I deserve to feel and I get that with him.”
You often don’t get this deep with the red head, but his lack of wanting to understand you has you emotional as you think of all the benefits of being with Tyson. The few months of being his friend were a perfect build up to the past few weeks of it being more, of sharing a life with someone else. 
“You know him better than most people and if you can honestly tell me he’s no good for me right now then I’ll end it,” you suggest, your heart beating fast as you wait for an answer. JT has come to be one of your best friends in your life, even if he is just your neighbor, and at this moment it’s hard to think of putting a guy between you. Even if that guy is the first guy you’ve really felt this way towards.
“I’m not gonna tell you that,” JT admits with a heavy sigh. He makes his way across the room to you before continuing. “He’s my best friend, too, and if there’s anyone that knows everything about both of you, it’s me. I guess I just felt like you were hiding a secret from me and we don’t do that, ya know? I just wish you could’ve told me.”
You laugh snidely at that, “Do you not remember like two months ago when I told you I thought Tyson was cute and you shot that down before I was even done talking?”
The wheels turn and the light bulb goes off in JT’s brain as he remembers that conversation from a while back, “I won’t confirm nor deny that I said that.”
The both of you laugh lightheartedly at that, pulling him in for a much needed hug, both of you apologizing to the other. The weight on your shoulders is liften as he pulls away, thankful for the fact that you have such an understanding person for a best friend.
“You want to watch an episode of Psych? I think we can fit one in before I have to leave.”
You contemplate it, knowing that a few miles away Tyson is in his apartment panicking as he waits for some sort of update from you. You know you need to tell him how your conversation just went, but something inside you is telling you that JT needs you to spend time with him to normalize everything.
“Sure,” you smile, walking over to his couch and laying on it long ways, forcing JT to sit by himself in his chair. You pull out your phone to text Tyson, smiling as you type out an explanation.
y/n: just finished talking to jt y/n: everything’s good but i think i need to just hang out with him to make him feel better about everything tyson: you sure? y/n: yes, ill call you when he leaves for the airport💚
Everything gets sorted out when you call Tyson an hour later, calming his nerves as you give him a detailed play-by-play of everything that was said between you and JT. The comfortable silence before you hang up is almost filled with him telling you he loves you, but he knows he needs to talk to JT first and needs to tell you in person, and not over the phone as he boards a flight.
The flight was filled with awkward air as most of the guys saw what happened with Tyson and JT in the locker room when practice ended that morning, and even if they weren’t there for that, they felt the tension between them. It’s not until a few hours later when Tyson’s doing his hair before the game when he hears a knock on his hotel door.
He swings the door open to see JT, his hands shoved in his short pockets as he stares right back at Tyson.
“Can we talk?”
“Uh, yeah,” he responds nervously, stepping out of the way to let his friend through the door. The two of them awkwardly stand a few feet away, that meme about two straight guys sitting six feet away in a hot tub because they’re not gay going through Tyson’s brain.
“I, uh, wanted to apologize about everything earlier. I’ll admit, I overreacted a bit and I shouldn’t have tripped you in practice. It was just a lot to take in, especially because I didn’t really know that you two were that close. And I feel like a bad friend now for not knowing that.”
JT’s apology is way more than what Tyson thought he would get from his friend. He knew yours and his conversation went well, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared JT was going to punch him or yell at him or literally anything that wasn’t an amicable conversation between two adults.
“It’s fine, man. It’s on us for keeping you in the dark on this one and I’m sorry for that. I think we barely knew what was going on until it was all happening,” Tyson starts to explain. He’s trying not to look at his feet, knowing that JT needs to see the feelings in his face, those feelings that are very much real to him.
“And it’s real for you? It’s not a game? Because I swear to God, Tyson.” JT darts, voice stern.
“God, no, this isn’t a game to me JT,” Tyson answers quickly, head shaking in disgust at the thought. “I’m not just trying to bag her and call it some accomplishment or whatever you think this is. If that was the case I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you and you’d already hate me,” he shudders at those words, unable to ever think he could do any wrong to you. “You told me a while ago that it’s no bullshit with her and I know that because it isn’t for me either.”
JT takes a seat on the bed in the room as his friend speaks, taking it all in. It’s a lot for him to take in, but Tyson really is one of the best people he’s ever met and he has little to no doubt that he’s telling the truth about how he feels. If the tears brimming your eyes earlier in the day said anything, you feel the exact same way. The room is silent once Tyson is done talking, his nerves causing him to be quiet for once as JT figures out his next move.
“I hear one bad bad thing from y/n, then it’s over,” JT warns, Tyson nodding his head along in agreement. “And if the guys start talking about your sex life I will be cutting your dick off.”
“Got it.”
“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, how’d you get her to go for you? I’ve been trying to get her a guy for forever.”
“Easy, have you seen my charming smile?” Tyson jokes with that crooked smirk of his, happy to see that JT is already moving on from that heavy stuff and onto best friend stuff. JT rolls his eyes heavily at the joke, a light ‘shut up’ coming out as he laughs.
Tyson explains everything then, the same wide smile on his face he had when he scored his first hat trick. He tells JT about how he wined and dined you on more than one occasion, how he learned those little, obscure things about you that you caught you off guard whenever he remembered them, and most importantly, just spent uninterrupted time with you, getting to know the ins and outs of your life. To Tyson, getting you to open up to him was difficult yet still a tranquil thing to do. The latter severely outweighed the former, as the sense of serenity he felt with you would always overpower any of those harder moments.
The team returns to Denver two days later, a quick road trip to Dallas and St Louis in the books with the regular season ending within the week. You can see that it’s that time of the year on both JT and Tyson’s face, their eyes a little more sunken in with the back half push, even if they’ve already clinched the playoffs. There’s only a few more games left to round out March and the beginning of April, the guys’ still waiting on their round one opponent.
Tyson heads straight for your place when the plane touches down late Wednesday night. You’d talked to him every day for the past few days, but not being able to see him much after JT finding out caused a lot of anxiety for the both of you. The problem may be solved with that, but seeing the other would just give you that little extra push that this was the right thing to do.
Tyson enters your apartment quietly, dropping his backpack and suit jacket down onto the nearby couch as he navigates his way through your apartment in the dark. The light of your string lights in your bedroom illuminates the hallway, soft sounds coming from your phone as Tyson walks in on you laying on your side.
“Hey,” he gently greets with a smile, pausing in the doorway to admire you. You set your phone down, turning around to face the man leaning against the door frame.
You smile just as wide as he does, responding with just as gentle of a ‘hey’. That anxiety you felt over the course of the last few days instantly dissolving at the sight of the man in your doorway.
“Why’re you standing all the way over there?” You ask with a pout.
“I can’t just look at you?” Tyson laughs, making his way over to you slowly. He joins you in bed, crawling over you like he’s still not dressed in one of his expensive custom suits.
“Not when I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you complain with a giggle, the same pout still glued to your face. He places a quick kiss on your lips in response, giving into your silent ask while also erasing that puppy dog look from your face. You’d only officially been with Tyson a few weeks now, the butterflies still heavily present in your stomach everytime your lips meet his.
“Do you not have clothes to change into?” You ask, referring to the crisp white button down he’s still wearing. He nods his head no against yours,
“Only what’s dirty from the roadie. Besides, I plan on being naked here pretty soon,” he smirks playfully. The comment has you shoving him off you with a roll of your eyes, only causing him to laugh loudly at your reaction. You know he’s partly kidding, using that as an excuse to get up from bed to go to the bathroom.
When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s finally shed his clothes and is under your covers. He opens his arms for you to snuggle into him. You do, resting your head on his bicep as he wraps both of his arms back around you.
“I missed you,” you let out. “Because I didn’t know what was gonna happen when you got back with everything going on with JT.”
“I missed you, too, but I’ve always missed you when we left for road trips,” he responds, letting you in on a little secret that clues you in once again to how real this is and how long it’s truly been going on for. “He’s fine with everything, he just told me we can’t act too much like a couple around him.”
You chuckle at that because of course that was the part JT focused on when they talked. As you look up at him, your heart is full and your head still has that same fuzzy feeling it always has when you’re around him. With him you’ve never really felt lonely, something you often felt even when you were around people before him. Those love songs you once heard on the radio that annoyed you no longer do, and instead you welcome them when they play spontaneously in the car or at the bar and parties or even at Avalanche games. 
The thoughts swimming around in your head have you swinging your leg over him, straddling his hips with his hands on your waist and yours on his ribs. That doe-eyed smile he has is focused on you, a grin spreading over your face at the way everything’s worked out with him. Your heart flutters as he gently squeezes your side, a small squeak coming out. He leans up on his elbows then, admiring the view he has of you. He slowly yet full-heartedly fell for you over the time he’s known you and you can see it in the way his gaze turns soft and as the quirkiness drops from his expression.
You’ve slowly fallen in love with the man underneath you, too, and you lean down to kiss him one more time. It’s slow like they always seem to be with him in scenarios like this, where it’s just the two of you and the sounds of your breathing.
The playoffs fly by quickly with the pace they’re winning at, a WAG jacket wrapped tightly around your shoulders to every game you make it to. A new one is shoved into your hands at the start of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Mel telling you it’s a special occasion that calls for a new jacket, even if it is just for a series and even though you’ve just barely broken in your first one.
You go into that offseason with your newly crowned Stanley Cup Champion of a boyfriend, flying out to Chicago over the summer for JT’s day with the cup and spending a whole week in St. Albert when its Tyson’s turn with it.
And that picture frame you never found a picture for that’s hanging up on your wall by your TV? It’s been occupied now with a photo of you sandwiched between JT and Tyson on the ice after Game 6 against the Tampa Bay Lightning, the Cup on the ice in front of the three of you, faces full of glee with confetti falling around you.
Plus One
The pitter patter of small feet running along the hardwood floors of the hallway, followed by a squeal of ‘daddy’ has you setting your glass down and following after her. Your daughter’s giggle is heard through the house, the familiar sound of your husband dropping his bags by the front door following soon after.
“What’re you still doing up, baby girl?” Tyson chastises the four year old as you round the corner to find the two of them still by the door, your daughter in Tyson’s arms as he gives her a kiss.
“Sage said she wouldn’t go to bed until daddy came home for story time,” you answer for Sage. She only giggles in response.
“How about you go get in bed and mommy and daddy will come tell you a story in a minute?” Tyson asks, playing with her little fingers.
“Okay daddy!” She agrees instantly, running all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. The brown curls she got from Tyson bounce as she runs, your heart warming at the heavy resemblance she has to her father.
“How are you doing, baby?” Tyson hums as you give him the usual welcome home kiss, his hand coming to rest on your protruding stomach.
“Good, the back pain is much more manageable now, but I’m still going to the bathroom every hour it seems like,” you shrug as you answer. He’d been on the longest road trip of the season so far, one that means the season is almost over. You’d tried extremely hard this time around to get pregnant at the right time so your next child would arrive during the offseason and not in the middle of the conference finals like your first did a few years ago.
“Soon enough we’ll have her running and occupying all of Sage’s free time,” Tyson muses, the two of you making your way to your bedroom so he could change into comfier clothes. You smile at the thought of Sage finally having a little sister to play with and hopefully become best friends with.
When you don’t get to Sage’s room fast enough, she’s racing into yours and Tyson’s room and plopping down onto your spacious bed. You join her, Tyson following, knowing that she’d much rather be sandwiched between the two of you than in her tiny bed in her own room. She leans into her dad’s side, something she’s always done, but you don’t mind — you love seeing them get so close.
“Did you bring a book, sweetie?” You ask her, taming some of her curls.
“No, tell me the story of how you met daddy again,” she proposes, causing you and Tyson to share a look. It’s her favorite story, one she asks you to relay to her at least once a week, and the one she asks for the most when Tyson’s been gone.
The two of you tell the story to her anyway, taking turns as you tell her how upset Uncle JT was about the two of you dating, all the way to the jokes he made sure to make when he gave a speech at your wedding six years ago now.
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nalledimessi · 3 years
Text
Chapter one: Back Home.
Hello there friends! Sorry for not been here so often now but i have somethings to deal with, but I'm glad to be back and with a serie of my own. I hope you like it, love it, share it and comment. Feedback, reblogs and you keep me going and is love for me!
Before we start I want to leave special regards to my friend @imgoingtofreakoutnow because without her this serie couldn't be possible. Annie, friend, I love you and I'm still can't thank you enough for help me with this. Also thanks to @elijahs-wife hope to see you soon and I hope you're taking care of yourself.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Tag's @valsworldofcreativity @avala-moon
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You stop the engine once you are in the driveway of your home, the same house you shared with him not long ago. You hesitate for a few minutes, playing with the keys in your hand. If only he was here, you think for yourself before taking a deep breath and opening the door. The dark surrounds you while you close the door behind you, leaving your keys and purse on the side table to then walk towards the counter leaving the take-out food on it.
“[Y/N]” his voice coming out of the shadows.
It would never stop to amazed you how he pronounces your name, so soft and so intimate. You sigh resting your hands on the counter, closing your eyes trying to stop the tears that want to get out desperately. “What are you doing here, Elijah? You made it clear you wouldn’t return” you question him before turning to see him.
“The truth of the matter is…” he says, taking his hands to his trousers’ pockets and standing straight, “I still have feelings for you and no matter how hard I try,” —he drops his gaze momentarily to then fix it in yours— “a part of me just doesn’t want to let go” he declares. “[Y/N] I give you…”
“Don’t you dare to finish that” you interrupt him with crystal gaze and anger in your voice, “we both know that as soon Klaus needs you, you won’t hesitate to leave everything behind” —you sigh— “including me, to run to him.” You closed your eyes trying to stop the tears at their edges. “I can’t do this anymore, Elijah” you sob, opening them again. “Please leave” you beg him.
He walks towards you and stops a few inches away, enough for you to inhale his scent. He leans over and deposits a kiss on your head. “I will leave for now.” He lingers close to you a few more seconds to then announce you: “I love you [Y/N] and that is why I have to leave” he confesses before walking out of the door and disappearing in the night.
You know you should’ve told him before, but you know him better than himself; if you had mention it, he would have been torn between choosing his brother and his unborn child.
“We’ll be fine” you say, moving your hand to your abdomen. You take your phone out of your pocket and call the only one you could count on now.
“Are you alright? Where are you?” he picks up alarmed.
“I’m fine, New Orleans” you rush to answer his questions. “I need a place to stay for a few months” you continue.
“Say no more, your room is still the same way you left it” he expresses.
“Thank you, Dean” you say relieved.
“That is what family’s for, we will be waiting for you” you hear him say before ending the call and walking upstairs to pack and go back to Lebanon, Kansas.
You rush to pack up the most essential and everything that could be used to track you down.
You look back through the rear mirror, glancing one last time at what you have called your home with Elijah these last months. -It’s better this way- you say, before starting your way back to your brothers, the Winchesters.
You reach Alexandria, wishing you could keep driving and be far away from New Orleans, Elijah and the chaos that came with being a Mikaelson, but you need to think of the safety and wellness of your child. You decide to spend only the night in Alexandria, stopping at the first motel you saw, and to continue driving at the first light of the day, obviously after breakfast.
“A room for the night” you say as soon you get to the manager office, cap over your head and a big hoodie covering you, making sure to avoid the surveillance camera that was pointing to the door.
“Card or cash?” the old man behind the counter asks while removing the room key off the board keychain.
“Cash” you respond. No way to track you that way, for anyone.
“60 dollars and I need an ID, sweetheart” he grins at you. You place your ID and money on the counter “Room 10 for [Y/N] Winchester, 2nd floor to the right”
“Thanks” you utter, taking the keys and ID from him and following his directions to your room.
Once you settle on bed, your phone starts ringing. You look at the name on the screen and pick it up.
“Hey Sammy” you greet him.
“Dean mentioned you’re coming back, is it true or he’s just playing with me?” The hope in his voice makes you smile.
“It’s true Sammy, I’m on my way. I’m spending the night in Alexandria but will hit the road first thing in the morning after breakfast” you assure him.
“It’s everything alright?” he asks concerned. He knows you after all and even if he was the youngest, he had always been the smart one.
“It’s complicated” you confess.
He chuckles. “I’m starting to think that word means Winchester”
You chuckle back. “Yeah, I think you’re right” you mention playing with the sheet of your bed.
“Alright, be safe. See you when you arrive. Love you [Y/N]”
“Love you too Sammy” you add before hanging up and plugging in your phone next to the Colt M1911A1 that Dean gave you before departing.
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Standing in front of the house, Elijah notices that your car isn’t in sight and that the curtains you always keep open are closed. He walks to the entry, using his key to access the house. Looking around the first floor everything was as usual but there was no sight of you.
“[Y/N]?” he calls you from the stairs but no respond. He vamp-speeds to your room to find it completely empty; the closet without a single piece of clothing just like your drawers. The only clothes left are his, with the only exception of his dark blue dress shirt, your favorite. He takes a seat on the bed, taking his head in his palms. If only I had fought for you, he thinks for himself.
He raises his gaze at the sound of the entry door and vamp-speeds downstairs, only to appear in front of his sister. “What are you doing here Rebekah?” he questions, confused and disappointed.
“I came to see [Y/N].” She looks around. “Where she is?” she asks, setting once again his sight on her brother.
“She is gone” he announces, sad and avoiding eye contact with her, “and it seems to be my fault” he adds, taking his hand to his trousers’ pocket. “I apologize Rebekah”
“What happened?” she questions him, crossing her arms. “Don’t tell me you let her go”
He looks at her. “If I admit to you that it’s complicated, would that suffice? Or, are you determined to torment me throughout this endeavor?”
She shakes her head. “Did you push her away?”
“I came last night to arrange things between us, but she asked me to leave and so I left” he vaguely explains.
“And she was gone when you returned.” He nods.
“We should go,” he told her walking to the entrance. “There’s nothing for us here anymore” he concludes, looking around one last time before leaving the house.
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It takes you more than you wanted to arrive to the bunker, but finally you are back.
“I’m home” you shout as soon you are inside, your voice followed by the sound of footsteps.
“[Y/N]! Glad you made it kiddo” you roll your eyes at Dean.
“I’m not a kiddo anymore” you say while walking down the stairs.
“You’ll always be to me.” Taking the suit case from you, he pulls you into a hug “I missed you [Y/N]” he whispers in your ear.
“I missed you too” you whisper back, hugging him.
Sam takes your bag from your shoulder and pulls you apart from Dean to crush you to his side “Glad you’re back.” He releases you a little to look at you. “You’re staying longer this time, right?” he inquires.
“Definitely” you smile, pulling back from him. “Where is Cas?” you ask after looking around the room and not seeing the angel with the trench coat.
“I’m here” he appears in front of you, looking directly at yourself. “There’s something different about you [Y/N]” he notices, squinting his eyes while scanning you.
You smile nervously. “I can assure you Cas, the same old me I was when I left. I did cut my hair though, must be it!” you rush to say.
He shakes his head “Perhaps it is.” He gives you one more look then adds “Welcome home”
“Come on,” Dean says, passing his arm over your shoulders, “unpack and refresh yourself and we will be waiting for you in the kitchen.” Dean walks you till your bedroom door.
“See you in a few” you say, taking your suit case from him and dragging it inside.
Chapter Two: Confrontations >
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