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sashred · 2 years

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3 Minutes in Heaven

Baby bit inspired by that "maybe another kiss," quote that came out of Comic Con, and Eric's latest cameo talking about how the humor was coming back. Dim and Juicy shenanigans ahead, along with a dash of horrified Chenford :)

“Yo. How many times do I have to say it? I’m not cooperating anymore until I get to see my girl.”

Dim – ehm – Jake, crossed his arms over his stomach, and Tim inwardly shuddered. He swore he’d never miss another day at the gym again, or skip a damn shower. The fake tattoos running up the side of his neck itched, his beard was a good two days old and about to drive him up a wall, and he’d never listened to the band on his tshirt a day in his life. He felt grungy, out of sorts, and the real Jake was seriously starting to piss him off.

“That’s not the deal,” he bit out, towering over his doppelganger as he sat petulantly on the nineties-something couch in their safe house. They’d squirreled him and Juicy away for the duration of the undercover operation, keeping them separate for security reasons. They were both criminals, and while Dim seemed less gifted when it came to actual brainpower, his “girl” was just the opposite. Even Lucy had struggled with trying to get information out of her, trying to learn some of her mannerisms, her personality, backstory. Where Dim was an open freaking children’s book, Juicy was constantly keeping them on their toes. Whatever the hell she saw in Jake was far beyond Tim’s comprehension. The only thing the pair seemed to have in common was their blatant lust for each other, and a shared affinity for running drugs. Tim supposed they might have been in love, maybe, but everything about them just seemed wrong – uncomfortable.

It wasn’t natural. The whole situation was absurd, and the sooner Jake gave Tim the information he wanted, the sooner they could all be done with the insanity.

“You want to know Hajek’s swap spot or nah?” Jake shrugged, the stubbornness in his bloodshot eyes all too familiar, and honestly just too freaking creepy.

“Two minutes,” Angela said from beside Tim. “We give you two supervised minutes, and you tell us what we need to know. Deal?”

Tim rolled his eyes, hating that they were essentially giving in to him, but he was already so beyond done at that point. He just wanted the hell out of that room.

“I can do a lot more with three,” Jake smiled, the sheer sleaze oozing from enough to make Tim sick to his stomach.

“I can’t take this.” Tim turned away, frowning as he caught Lopez’s smirk. “You wait with Dim. I’m going to get Juicy.”

“Careful she doesn’t jump you instead,” she snorted, and Jake shot up off the couch.

“Don’t you be messing with my girl, bro,” he wheezed, the effort clearly not agreeing with him. “I mean it. Not that she’d take up with a scrub like you, but don’t go confusing her.”

Tim looked up at the ceiling, closing his eyes as he seriously contemplated turning his badge in right then and there.

“Don’t worry. Officer Chen would never let that happen,” Lopez tried to placate him, the effect almost entirely lost as she shot Tim a wicked grin. He glared at her, nodding his head as he contemplated all the ways he was going to repay her in kind.

“You just wait for the day your strung-out doppelganger pops up. There will be no mercy Lopez. None.”

“I’m quaking. Now go get your girl, Bradford. We do actually have work to do.”

He bit back his retort, huffing as he walked away, Lopez’s chuckle all too audible behind him. Juicy was just upstairs with Chen, and he took the steps two at a time, trying to burn off the restless energy pent up inside him. He was at the door far too quickly, so he took a breath, mentally preparing himself. There were two of them in there, and it had been awkward enough lately dealing with just the one he knew. He eventually worked up the nerve to knock, but before his fist even rapped the door, Lucy – Juicy – one of them flung it open.

“I…” he started, but immediately snapped his mouth shut. Damnit. He couldn’t tell which one she was. There was only the one in his line of sight, hair done up in a crazy braid over the top of her head, that checkered shirt buttoned all the way up to her neck. Her brows raised, gum smacking loudly as she leaned against the door frame and watched him.

“You need something?” she asked, and it sounded like Lucy, but so did Juicy…and fucking hell he was so ready to walk away –

“Uh…Lopez and Jake need to see you two,” he finally said, shifting his weight as he tried to look past her and further into the room. It was diplomatic enough…probably.

“Why?” she asked, the braid sliding forwards as she tilted her head.

He was going to kill her. Lucy, that was. Regardless of who he was actually talking to, he was going to kill Lucy.

“Because it’s for the case,” he shrugged, hating how stupid he sounded. “Just…both of you come out and downstairs. They’re waiting and we’re short on time.”

She crossed her arms, eyes pointedly roving from his feet to the top of his head as she considered him, and he felt the inexplicable urge to back away very slowly.

“You could be nicer. Like… I don’t know, actually address me by name,” she said, her gaze hard. Acrylic fingernails tapped along her arms, and a particularly loud snap of her gum made him jump.

Christ this was getting beyond ridiculous.

“Look, enough with the – ”

“Babe is that you?” A voice came from deeper in the room, higher and little more accented, and another Lucy emerged, toweling dry her long, dark locks. She looked…hopeful, her dark eyes lighting up as she saw him, but it was only for a moment. “Ugh. Nevermind. You’re the cop.”

Tim opened his mouth and closed it, partially offended, and entirely off-kilter. He glanced down to see Lucy’s eyes narrowing at him as her nostrils flared.

“You seriously couldn’t tell it was me, could you?” she asked, and Tim decided it was actually a hell of a lot easier dealing with the upside-down version of himself than two of them.

“Come on Chen,” he tried to brush it off. “Of course I could…”

Lucy pursed her lips, jaw ticking, and he decided it was time for a tactful retreat.

“Okay…fine. Maybe I couldn’t tell right away. But give me a break. The whole point is that you’re supposed to look like her,” he tried to defend, but she just shoved herself off the wall and walked back into the room.

“And you’re supposed to look like Jake, but there’s no comparison,” Juicy quipped, smirking. “Kinda dense, aren’t you?”

“Let’s go,” Lucy sighed. He saw the look that passed between them though, something too similar to comradery, and Tim decided then and there that he hated absolutely everything about that day. Lucy shot him another glare as she walked by, Juicy following and appraising him with a raised brow, before ultimately twisting her face up in disgust.

How in the actual hell was this his life?

He honestly didn’t think things could get any more…unsettling. Working off the assumption that Dim and Juicy just needed a brief reunion, to reassure each other that they were okay before moving the hell on, he chose to follow them back into that room…

And regretted that decision for the rest of his life.

“Babe!” Juicy squeaked, launching herself towards Jake and into his arms. “I’ve been so worried. They treating you right? You okay?” she fussed, and the dam just fucking broke open.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby,” Jake said, before gripping her face and hauling her against him. It really didn’t help matters that with her hair down, Juicy looked a lot more like Lucy than she currently did, and staring at his own goddamned face as it devoured hers just about catapulted him over the edge of sanity. He couldn’t look away, the two now filling the room with obscene, wet noises, practically dry humping in the middle of the freaking room.

Lucy didn’t seem to be doing any better at least, utterly slack-jawed as Dim lifted Juicy off the damn floor, her legs wrapping around his waist. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tim knew he should have stopped them, that enough was enough, their end of the bargain more than met, but he couldn’t move a freaking muscle. It was like watching some kind of awful, horrible, messy nightmare unfold right in front of him, and he absolutely hated the warmth slowly creeping up his neck.

“Stop,” Lucy’s voice rang out, snapping Tim out of his daze. Her eyes were closed, her hands waving in front of her like she could wipe away the scene happening in front of them. “Both of you, now. We…this – ”

“I think your three minutes are up,” Angela said, too casually, like she hadn’t just witnessed the most disgusting, disturbing thing that had ever occurred. The noises stopped, the two finally detaching their mouths from each other as Jake slowly lowered Juicy to the ground.

“I had to see you,” he whispered, his voice syrupy and expression soft. Tim did turn away then, Lucy quickly following suit as they both beelined for the door. Lopez clearly had it handled. She didn’t need them, not really, and he didn’t think he could meet her too-knowing eyes one more time without completely losing it.

Once Tim made it to the hallway, he cut loose the breath he’d been holding and swiped his hand across his chin. It felt like he’d run a fucking marathon. His heart was beating way too fast, his breath coming quicker than it should have, and he felt the sweat beading along his hairline. He glanced down at Lucy, her eyes still too wide, face flushed and fingers fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.

“Don’t,” she said, abruptly pointing towards him as she kept her gaze down.

“Don’t what?” He braced his hands on his hips.

“Don’t…don’t look at me. Like, ever again,” she said, scratching her head at the base of her braid, absolutely refusing to bring her eyes up from the floor.

“Yeah, that’s feasible. Sure,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. He stared down at her, watching as her face grew steadily redder. She was flustered too, and it gave him some sense of satisfaction to know he wasn’t the only one seriously affected by what they just saw.

“I – that…um…” her voice trailed off, and as he watched her squirm, shifting back and forth on her feet, her eye so uncertain – conflicted, he decided to take some measure of mercy on her.

And himself.

“Look,” he sighed, raising his eyes to the ceiling, “it’s about time to meet up with the crew at the drop off spot. Angela can text the location to us once she gets it from Dim. We uh, should probably get moving.”

“Right. Yeah,” she nodded, biting her lip. Tim brought his eyes back to the ceiling.

“I guess you’re driving,” he said, fishing the keys to Jake’s Mini Cooper out of his pocket. He held them out to her, and Lucy’s eyes finally flitted over to him. She reached out a tentative hand, her fingers brushing against his in an almost too deliberate way, and Tim nearly choked on his own spit.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, blushing a deeper crimson still.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged.

It wasn’t. None of this was fine, and if he was going to have to act around Lucy the way Dim acted around Juicy…he didn’t see how he could possibly survive the rest of the day.

It was already a forgone conclusion, really, that he wouldn’t make it through. Not with his sanity or dignity intact, so at that point…Tim didn’t see any reason why he couldn’t at least enjoy things before they all came crashing down around them.

“You might want to stop blushing so much, though,” he said, meeting her eyes as they widened in shock.

“Excuse me?”

“Your face.” He reached out his hand, lightly brushing the back of her cheek with his knuckles. “It’s basically the color of a tomato.”

“You…my face?” she scoffed, her eyes dancing in outrage. “Try looking in a mirror. Your neck is redder than my lipstick.”

He shrugged, smirking once before walking towards the door. “Interesting comparison.”

He was going to suffer for this, immensely, but there was no way he could let her get the last word. The stakes were too high now, and when Tim Bradford went all in on something…nothing was off the table.

“Guess we’ll just have to see how true that really is.”

#chenford #chenford fanfic #the rookie fanfic #tim x lucy #calling it now #that 'maybe' kiss is totally going to be between Dim and Juicy #and I'm still here for it

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obeiii-mee · 3 years

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Hello! Can I request an hc about a shady MC who's not phase by anything in Devildom with the brothers (and Diavolo?? he deserves love!!!)? Like, when Luci's like "i CaN KiLL yOu hUmAN", MC's reaction was like "Oh... congratulations then." i need more shady mc who may or may not be planning to ruin your life😂😂 Thanks and take care!!❤❤

The Brothers + Diavolo with an MC that is not phased by DevilDom

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Pls I need more shady MC, they would not take any shit from the brothers. Put any Gen Z-er with these guys and you’ve got yourself a suicidal and reckless human exchange student.

They wouldn’t know what to do with one of those ahaksbakanhaka you’re right, Diavolo deserves all the love >:(((((((

You better take care too >:( thanks for sending me this big brain request. I’ve been preoccupied with other projects so I took a while to get to this ask. Hope you’re doing OK💙

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Lucifer:

-He thought having a human exchange student was going to be bad enough as it is but this…..this was so much worse than he could have ever imagined

-The moment you arrived, he already knew you were going to be a problem child and a persistent one at that

-Literally the first thing you asked him was : “Why do you look like an off-brand Levi Ackerman?”

-And he was left there, astounded, confused and offended because he had no idea who you were talking about (cuz at that point you hadn’t met the third eldest) and the tone you had was, frankly, pissing him off

-You kept wondering off on your own????? Without looking like you gave a shit even though you almost walked into a butcher’s shop that specialises in human meat???? Tf MC?

-Also really irritated that you couldn’t be intimidated and that DevilDom was like a playground to you, for some reason? Like, MC get out of the fiery pits of eternally tormented souls- this is Hell, not the McDonald’s ball pit ffs

-Things did not improve for him lmao, by the end of the first week he had already ripped out a good chunk of his hair because of you

-“MC, you should know by now provoking demons like this for no good reason is only going to make life harder for you. Keep this up and you’ll get killed in no time because of your behaviour.”

-“Great, can we have a hip-hip and a hurray?”

-In the span of one day, he’s had to come to your rescue six times (approximately) because you’re too nonchalant about your surroundings around literal creatures of hell

-He doesn’t have enough coffee or will to live for this bs

-“Lucifer, I found this dead plant and brought it here because it reminded me of you.”

-“…..sigh. Why? Why does it remind you of me?”

-“Because it’s cold and unresponsive.”

-He made the consecutive decision to ignore you

-(low-key kept the plant tho)

-Honestly, you get on his nerves a lot and he has definitely contemplated killing you in the past but at the end of the day he really can’t bring himself to do it

-We both know he tried a few times lmfao

-“I will tear you limb from limb, human-“

-“Can I finish my tea first.”

-“You…wait, what?”

-“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting this tea get cold. Try to kill time before I’m done and I’ll smash this cup against your head.”

-If you try hard enough, you might even elicit a laugh out of him, especially if your shadiness is directed at any of his brother which results in him patting your head affectionately

-Nowadays he’s just concerned because you seemed to have made an alliance of sorts with Belphagour and Satan and that’s not a good sign

-For his sake, if not yours, at least try to survive the year without getting chomped on by a random demon please

-He’s too stubborn to let you die just because you’re unbothered by everything so cut him some slack and help out damn it

Mammon:

-“Oi Lucifer, how come I’m stuck babysittin’ this stupid human?”

-“And how come I’m stuck with this asshole for a tour guide, with his fake ass designer shoes and no brand sunglasses. That’s a lot of smack talk from someone with crow shit stains covering the back of his jacket. Also, did you stick your hair in a bucket of mayonnaise?”

-……..

-He was so offended lol

-Normally, humans like you cower in fear whenever demons are as much as mentioned because of the whole “I can eat you whole” thing

-And here you are; insulting the Avatar of Greed and one of the princes of Hell himself just because you didn’t like his attitude

-Don’t worry tho, he warms up to you in less than a fucking month simply because you still come to his rescue whenever his brothers start insulting him and wow, look at that, his heart is now combusting on the floor

-“Y’all have no right to criticise Mammon when he has the most self control out of all of you.”

-“Since when does Mammon have any self control? He can’t keep himself from nicking anything that looks shiny.”

-“Motherfucker, I don’t see him trying to choke me to death, respectfully pls shut the fuck up. I don’t want to say I have favourites but if I do, it’s definitely him.”

-While Mammon’s in the background, with hearts instead of pupils in his eyes like ❤️👄❤️

-He doesn’t even mind running around after you anymore (will still complain about it though because your ass is in constant danger and he’s had enough)

-Honestly, you keep starting shit with random demons, some of which are quite powerful mind you, and you don’t back down even when he’s there to step in

-Would low key love to watch you fight one of your classmates at RAD and organise a ticket selling booth for the event but Lucifer will hang him a new one if he does

-So for now, he sticks to baring his teeth at the aggravator in question and you’re there, giving the same demon the middle finger

-The way you sometimes match his energy gets him so hyped up lmao

-“Mammon, did you steal Levi’s money again?”

-“T’s none of her business human. Now go away, shoo!”

-“Bitch, don’t ‘shoo’ me, I ain’t a bird. Now tell me, did you?”

-“…..Why do you ask?”

-“Because a new flavour of instant noodles just got announced, called ‘Super Hell-Sauce Flavour’ and I thought you might be more interested in that than wasting the money on gambling.”

-“….ok but only if you come with me to buy some.”

-This…this is true love right here

Levi:

-Oh no, now there’s two of you

-Why do I feel like his energy would match MC’s almost immediately? Maybe it’s because he spends too much time in his room on the internet like the rest of us do

-“What do you want, you stupid normie?”

-“300…..”

-“….300 what?”

-“300 mangas collected, thousands of episodes of anime watched, over 60 character figurines, plushies, body pillows, merchandise and several posters only to be called a fucking normie by a demon weeb that’s only known me for 10 minutes.”

-Boom, instant friendship

-He becomes attached to you almost immediately and now that he knows how unphased you are by DevilDom, he is seriously worried

-Hell, you’re making him consider going outside his room just to make sure you’re alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere because you decided to get on someone’s nerves that particular day

-Even during the quiz thing, when he almost kills you, you’re just sitting on the floor and awkwardly watching him as he throws a sissy fit

-Levi feels sort of conflicted with you because one one hand you’re good company and he loves having you around, you’re his Henry after all

-But on the other hand, you put yourself in so much danger it makes him paranoid so often to the point where he wants to keep you locked in his room and wrapped in bubble wrap

-Nearly had a heart attack when you almost walked right into a pit of lava like MC???? This isn’t one of his video games???? You’re not gonna respawn if you die????

-Besides all that, he gets a bit jealous of you confidence and your ability to just do whatever without fearing death or consequence

-“MC, how do you do it?”

-“Do what?”

-“How do you go about your life without a care in the world?”

-“I guess I’ll tell you my secret Levi. I’m not like other humans that’s why, I’m just so unique I do things differently.”

-“You sound like a pick me-“

-As long as you’re OK and not injured because of your carelessness, he’s indifferent about your behaviour and will even applaud you for your bravery when it comes to this sort of thing

-“lmao the human exchange student just dumped Solomon’s cooking in the trash while looking him dead in the eye 💀💀💀”

Satan:

-Your attitude towards DevilDom and demons in general kept him entertained, if nothing else

-You rarely seemed to consider how much of a threat that place really is and usually you were just running around, completely ignoring Lucifer’s rules and doing your own thing

-Which, you know, he’s all about

-I can’t say there were no incidents between the two of you

-With his short temper and your tendency to say things without caring about the consequences, there were definitely moments when he might’ve snapped on you

-“MC for goodness sake, what happened to my room?”

-“What do you mean?”

-“It’s an absolute mess! I just told you to bring me my spells and curses book, not mow through everything!”

-“It’s not my fault this place is built like a fucking labyrinth. You should be grateful I went to get it for you at all, I almost tripped and died several times on my way back. Also, you should get a new ladder for your shelves. It did the broken.”

-“MC….”

-“Yes?”

-“You are so lucky I love you.”

-Other than the fact his anger takes over him when things like these happen, he not so subtly encourages you to keep going because seeing Lucifer scowl at your antics gets him wheezing his lungs out

-I like to think Satan would be very impressed, even in the beginning, at the amount of nonchalance you can radiate at times

-I mean, you sure as hell don’t see it often and he loves how unpredictable you are more often than not

-If anything, he should probably thank you-idk how, but his patience has increased significantly every since you got here and he appreciates having some more control of his emotions

-“I’m gonna go put oil in Lucifer’s shoes.”

-“Do you have a death wish?”

-“Satan, I am old enough to make my own decisions and I concluded that this action is necessary.”

-“Necessary for what?”

-“Raising everyone’s morale! All of you seemed to feel down lately so I thought this would be fun for everybody!”

-“Except Lucifer, right?”

-“Except Lucifer. He grounded me from my D.D.D like I’m a fucking teenager who needs to be supervised-pssshht, I’m the most responsible one here.”

-“Yes clearly.”

-“Goodbye dear Satan, I may die today. But it’s for the greater good! (Dramatic exit with sound effects)”

-“WAIT MC!”

-“(pops head back in) yes?”

-“May I offer you my assistance?”

-You’re basically taking turns pranking his brothers and it’s hilarious

-Satan is not too worried about your well being simply because he knows his siblings and him are always going to be nearby to save you if you pull something stupid again

-Even so, he checks up on you throughout the day; just to make sure

-“Where were you?”

-“Running from a bunch of demons. Who wanted to go munchy crunchy on me, I assume.”

-“……”

-“Either that or people here are a lot friendlier than originally expected.”

-You can be such a handful and it really tests him, especially when he’s angry enough to begin with

-But despite your amazing talent at either getting completely lost around Hell, purposely walking into a prohibited place just because you felt like it or riling up others with how blunt you are, he still cares about you deeply

-You may be a pain the ass, but you’re his pain in the ass <3

Asmo:

-He should’ve known something was up with this particular human when you stood there, completely calm and collected, while Beel salivated at the thought of eating you on your first day

-Asmo just brushed it off for a while but it kept happening???

-The first time Lucifer ever told you off, you really went and said “Or what? Are you going to eat me? If so, you can go ahead and start with-“

-He came to your rescue and covered your mouth before you got to finish and before Lucifer unleashed his wrath on to everyone in that house

-“OOPSIE! I think MC has been spending too much time with me. Sorry Lucifer, we gotta run now! We have a party to attend, don’t we MC darling?”

-“You mean the one hosted by the guy that tried to kill me because I shoved into him on the hallway at school and then proceeded to tell him to go fuck himself right back into whatever hell hole he was born in before you came and charmed our way out of it?”

-“Yes.”

-“Ah OK. “

-You’re tiring for sure but you’re not exactly unlikeable

-You have a certain charm hanging about you that Asmo loves

-“I almost died like…30 minutes ago.”

-“WAIT WHAT?? WHY?? WHAT HAPPENED-MC ARE YOU OK???”

-“Yeah, I almost drank some poison today because someone told me it was water. It smelt off though so I didn’t.”

-“….”

-“Anyway, I got you this bracelet on my way home.”

-He really does wish you would take things a bit more seriously

-This is your life on the line, you know? What would he do if you died?

-“MC, you’re not immortal, you can die so much more easily than I can, you know that right???”

-“I don’t care.”

-“Well I do! And you should too….”

-A lot of people don’t see past his vanity tbh, because he can be such a caring person towards the people he loves

-The amount of videos he has of you appearing to be completely calm while pure chaos is descending in the background is pretty impressive

-Every time he uses his charm on you to try and get you to commit his sin, it just doesn’t work???? For some reason???? And even if it’s just with simple, innocent affection for now, he is determined to tempt you into it

-“MC~gimme a hug!”

-“But that’s social interaction and I don’t support it- do you have a charger for my D.D.D by any chance?

-Or at least die trying to ig

-Asmo loves having you around but you’re giving him wrinkles and that’s not okay >:(

Beel:

-The moment he realised how carefree you actually were, he sort of started checking up with you quite frequently throughout the day

-It’s his way of protecting you but if he could, he would follow you around all the time

-Becomes your body guard because you may not care enough about your safety but he certainly does so get ready to be carried everywhere

-You will not get hurt nor will anyone mess with you if he has a say in it and let me tell you, he does

-Thing is, his brothers mostly know him for being slightly dense in some aspects of day to day life

-He’s not perceptive of things that don’t involve food or his loved ones

-And because you most definitely are a loved one of his, he does notice how careless you are really often

-And it scares, rather worries, him because DevilDom is an incredibly dangerous place-even with all the precautions they had taken when you came

-“MC get down, you could fall.”

-“But Beel, look-I’m finally taller than everyone else! Taller than you even! Hey, should I do a backflip?”

-He has no idea why you thought jumping from 60 meter high cliff into a small river of squashed demon blood was a good idea but he wasn’t going to risk anything just because you felt like showing off your diving skills

-Proceeds to carry you away, completely unfazed

-In this case, I feel like Beel is not someone who gets bothered by the horrible things happening around there either

-As long as he has food and his family is safe and happy then he’s also happy, as mentioned above

-But he knows he’s alright with DevilDom because he’s been living here for centuries now

-A bit curious as to why you’re so unbothered

-And even more curious as to why you weren’t terrified of him transforming in his demon form after he lost control when he found out you ate his pudding

-Or more like Mammon did and pushed the blame on you

-“YOU. ATE. MY. PUDDING!”

-“Beel I love you but if you did not just see Mammon shoving the damn container in my mouth two seconds prior to this, then you might need glasses.”

-He apologised to you later for it but even so, you didn’t seem to mind like at all and he didn’t really understand why

-Unless you end up explaining why exactly you feel so indifferent about your life being in potential danger, he won’t really pry

-But now he has even more reason to follow you around like a lost puppy

-Since it’s clear you don’t really care about protecting yourself

-So now it’s his job to do it

-MC protection squad? Mostly Beel and Mammon

-ahhh he cute

Belphie:

-Oh

-You piss him off so much

-He’s trying to have his moment, you know?

-Finally getting that glimmer of satisfaction after killing a human as a way to avenge his sister’s death

-Trying his hardest to make it as miserable as possible because he has so much rage in him, he needs you to suffer

-“Harder Daddy-“

-“Oh fuck off.”

-Nah but for real, what the fuck MC

-Why does he even bother, he feels like he should be sleeping instead of dealing with your bullshit

-Even afterwards, when your future self shows up and he tries to kill you again, you look more thoughtful than irritated???

-Lucifer and Beel are literally holding him back from doing another Chocky on you and you’re standing there, looking at him with your eyebrows raised

-“Hey Belphie, I have a quick question. I know you’re trying to kill me and everything but do you like the colour blue?”

-“HUH??!?!”

-“It’s a simple yes or no question Belphie. Do. You. Like. Blue?”

-“WHAT DOES IT MATTER???!!!”

-“BELPHAGOUR, AVATAR OF SLOTH-YES OR NO, JUST FUCKING ANSWER!”

-“YES! FUCK YOU!”

-“Ah ok thanks. I like blue too :)”

-????????????

-Pls he felt like sticking his foot down your throat

-As of late, he’s kind of glad he didn’t manage to scare you away that day and that he didn’t traumatise you or something

-At the time, he was mad because he didn’t understand why you weren’t scared but now he just wants to make it up to you

-“You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m sorry MC, I won’t blame you if you decide to stay away from me now.”

-“Stfu dipshit, what’s gotten you so depressed? Did you have another fight with Beel? I told you not to eat the last slice of cake.”

-“Rude ass, I was trying to apologise for my past mistakes-let me repent will you?”

-“Said no demon ever. Now let’s go hang out you emo bitch.”

-Y’all vibe together on a spiritual level once that shit gets sorted out

-But he’s kinda scared you might pull out a knife on him ngl

-Obviously, you’re still annoying as fuck with that indifferent attitude of yours but he can live with it

-He appreciates the fact that you’re not scared of him, even after what he’s done

Diavolo:

-Ah yes, the future King of DevilDom himself

-He’s very enthusiastic about the idea of you having fun this year…..and to keep you alive….

-He, of course, expected a range of reactions from you when he first summoned you here

-None of which were “Ok but could you not have given me a heads up? Before the whole teleportation thing? I face-planted your onto marvellously polished the floor and now I think I lost even more brain cells than before.”

-He felt so bad gagajajahahwgehhsb

-He apologised for bringing you out here without any warning like that and then proceeded to introduce you to everyone

-Diavolo is actually kind of relieved to see you’re handling everything pretty well

-He thought that maybe DevilDom was too much for a human to deal with

-Meeting Barbatos also went incredibly smooth

-“Barbatos? The one that cleans the floors right? Big fan of your work, I could eat off the floor of the main hall.”

-He’s so glad to see you getting along with everyone and not getting intimidated by the brothers

-It gets him excited thinking about how the exchange program is gonna work and all three realms will be united

-But he’s not stupid so don’t think he’ll allow you to stumble around, getting up to all sorts of mischief

-He always has someone watching you because he would hate to see you die, despite being pretty fond of your carefree attitude

-“MC, please be careful. Most demons here aren’t all that nice.”

-“Aye aye Captain.”

-He fears that many demons would take your indifference as a challenge and try to assert dominance or something by kidnapping you

-As far as creatures of hell go, they love installing fear in people

-So he always keeps an extra eye open for you

-And he’ll be there to help you if something goes wrong

-But other than that, he’s pretty chill as well and he finds you so hilarious, it’s been a while since he’s seen someone as eccentric and dramatic as Mammon and Asmo

-Idk what else to add here, Diavolo is very accepting and as long as you don’t get hurt, he’s glad you can get used to your new surroundings so easily

———————————-

Al~

571 notes · View notes

oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part Two)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Butterflies getting caught in throats with no words to help explain. Time standing still with a heart breaking. Determination and a willingness to see it through float away in sleep.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw injury (nothing major, just a wrist injury)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 6644

Shoutout to @damianodavide, who was a superb help on this chapter and the real life nurse behind this one ;) 😘

***

Damiano’s head was spinning. As soon as he closed his eyes, Y/n’s face appeared in front of him, eyes hooded, lips plumps from just having kissed him, and an expression that promised a need for more. It left him bothered in a way that he knew would not let him sleep until he took care of it. Trying to pretend it was her feminine hand instead of his own rather undignified touch, he reached into the waistband of his underwear immediately letting out a hiss at the contact.

He was desperate for her, but if he couldn’t have her, his imagination would have to do. Pictures flashed through his mind as he moved his hand. Her on her knees, looking up at him through long lashes. He had already gotten a taste of the way she reacted when he complimented her, watching her eyes go wide as he called her a good girl. Her being good for him. Her on her back, ready to be devoured by him in any way he pleased. Feeling his hands go into her hair pulling her face up to look at him. Her bent over whatever furniture he could find, willing to let him have his way with her. Deeply, madly, irrefutably, he wanted it all. She was truly making him lose his mind. Her body and the way she moved were infatuating. Her laugh when someone did something dumb. The look in her eyes when she teased him back. He could still feel the kiss she left on his lips. He never wanted that feeling to end. Brava ragazza mia.

He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, unable to hold back or keep quiet. For a moment, in the silence, he wondered if anyone had heard. He was well aware that his room was surrounded by those of bandmates and crew, but he couldn’t remember who it was exactly anyway, and it didn’t bother him for long, his hazy mind drifting around once again.

***

“Where is your mind at?” Y/n looked up as Victoria pulled her out of her thoughts unexpectedly. Y/n had stopped in Victoria's room after breakfast, trying to keep tabs on what everyone’s plans were on their day off. She had meant to get some work done as Victoria was busying herself getting ready, but it had ended up with her staring into the distance, laptop almost forgotten on her lap.

“Oh, sorry. I’m here, what were you saying?”

“I asked where your mind is at.” Victoria fell forward laying on the bed. Y/n knew that the blonde was starting to learn to read her like a book and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

“Yeah, um, listen. What would you say to someone that may have absolutely decimated her career, by maybe accidentally kissing her boss while they were all high?” She didn’t dare look at the bassist, bracing herself for whatever negative reaction would potentially come from this.

Victoria sat up in surprise, eyes wide and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to need a lot more information than that.” Without giving in to Y/n’s slight protest, she removed the laptop from the assistant’s legs, closing it shut and putting it away. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to it really. We sat on the couch, you know that. And I said something stupid about how his eyes looked like chocolates, or maybe gemstones? I don’t quite remember. Anyway, then he pulled my hair out of the hair-tie. I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned his face. Fuck, it was bad. Not the kiss! He is very good at that! But I shouldn’t have done that. And then he just went ‘it's cool, it happens’. What does that even mean?!” She was talking much too quickly, getting it all out before the rational part of her brain would make her shut up. Make her remember she was talking to someone she’d only just started getting to know a week ago, who she was working for. “Then Thomas crashed and you know how that ended. Now I might be avoiding him. Just a bit.” She looked at Vic with a slight panic in her eyes, unsure if she had said too much.

Victoria, on the other hand, seemed delighted to no end, if a little shocked. “Wait, as if you kissed with all of us there and no one noticed!” She exclaimed, briefly pausing, contemplating, but shaking it off to get back to the conversation. “So… Good kiss, huh? Did you enjoy it then? Wanna do it again?” Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Victoria! That is not what I am worried about here! I could lose my job. I- I could never show my face out there again if people found out. And I really enjoy this job, you know!” Her face scrunched a little bit, calming down with a sigh. “...But also, yes, he was a gentleman, and if he wanted to … kiss me again, I probably wouldn’t say no. But I also wouldn’t say yes. I work for you. This is not the time to be thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing Damiano!”

Her eyes went wide as her voice dropped to a whisper, looking down at her hands. “Ah fuck, I said that out loud.”

“Okay, let’s look at it from a rational standpoint then.” Victoria turned slightly more serious at seeing her panic. “There is no way you’ll be losing your job over this. Maybe I wouldn’t advise hopping into bed with the whole band and crew, but we always got a tight-knit relationship with people we work with anyway, you know that. None of us would rat you out to management or anything. Plus, if you liked and Damiano liked it… wouldn’t it be a shame to worry about anything else instead of going for it?”

“I don’t know if he liked it. I was busy trying not to pass out, to be honest. I avoided him this morning by going straight to your room. I actually kind of avoided everyone, I’m scared the words of what happened will just come out to anyone who asks… Kind of like they just did with you.” She let out another deep sigh, switching between looking at her nails, picking at them, and out the window. “If he ...you know ... Then maybe. I honestly don’t even know what I would do with that information. On the off chance that he did like it though. And wanted to go for it then I’d consider it.” She tried to remain as put together as possible and, well aware that she was failing miserably.

“Well, in that case, we have to find out what Damiano wants!” Victoria’s enthusiasm was back with a vengeance. “You should talk to him! Or should I talk to him? Maybe I should lock you in a room like those romcoms and threaten to not let you out again until you kiss.”

“Or you don’t do that because that is entrapment. I think I would be cool with you talking to him. But I still have to do my job. That comes first. Because as far as I am concerned,” Y/n got up and grabbed her laptop again, “it is business as usual. And last night was a fluke. Not to crush your rom-com dreams, love, but if I spoke to him I’d put my foot in my mouth faster than you can play bass.”

The smirk on Vic’s face didn’t promise anything good. “We’ll see about that, we’ll see,” she ominously muttered, before jumping up from the bed. “Now stop trying to pretend you got work to do, we’re going vintage clothes shopping.”

***

The thrift store turned out to be a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, just off a side street - perfect for shopping in peace without getting much attention at all. Y/n hadn’t been all that keen on keeping the band company for this little adventure, but Victoria had insisted, claiming she needed a female perspective in case the boys were being stupid again. It had only taken a serious case of the puppy dog eyes to win her over, and Victoria found herself making a mental note to remember it.

The store was stuffed full of clothes, a kind of chaos that seemed to have an order that only the owner really understood. But it looked like heaven, and within seconds everyone had vanished into some corner or other, dying to find their newest favourite piece. For a moment, Victoria contemplated who she wanted to follow first, feeling the need to talk to at least two different people but also never wanting to miss out on a chance to go crazy with Thomas. Ended up deciding on Damiano. It seemed the more pressing issue. She hadn’t failed to notice how he would try to pretend that everything was normal, yet continuously evading Y/n’s eyes. She had kept her distance all the same. This wasn’t acceptable. She had to do something, Victoria decided.

She found the singer shuffling through some blouses, although much more half-heartedly than he tended to be when it came to vintage clothes. Looking out from the racks Victoria saw Y/n doing the same. She briefly considered how to go on about this - admit that Y/n had told her what had happened? Pretend she had actually seen the kiss last night? - but figured that Damiano would start talking on his own accord sooner or later. Especially if this was affecting him the way it was Y/n, and she was almost hoping it was.

“Okay, spill, what’s up with you today?”

Damiano shrugged, pulling a shirt out from the rack, and holding it against his body, waiting for Victoria's opinion. She raised a brow and put it back wordlessly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded rather vaguely.

“Damia, you’ve barely spoken at all today. Normally you can’t shut up. And you know, I’d be thankful for some peace and quiet from you, but you’re actually worrying me. So what’s going on with you?”

Damiano had a panicked look on his face as he scanned over the racks of clothes, his eyes flickering back and forth, obviously noticing Y/n shuffling through some things and slowly getting closer. Taking Vic by surprise, he dragged her into the dressing rooms.

“Okay, that’s…. Weirdly intimate, but go on,” Vic mumbled to herself as he closed the curtain behind them, still nervously looking around the small space.

“Rather talk to you in here, than her hear me out there. I may have fucked up, royally.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Victoria was sure he would be burning a hole into the wall with his vision if he possessed that power. He was avoiding looking at her and she knew it.

“Explain,” she simply demanded, sitting down on the tiny stool in the corner and looking up at Damiano. She wanted to hear it from him, hear what had happened in his version of the story, hear what was bothering him so much.

“So we were at that bar, right? Y/n was sitting next to me. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you were there. Anyway. We were talking. I don’t know if it was the smoking or whatever else, but I looked at her and - I don’t know why I did this but I did. I pulled her hair out of her hair tie.” He leaned on the wall, his head hitting the brick behind him. He groaned but Vic assumed it didn’t have anything to do with the pain. “And… and she was so beautiful. Her hair just all around her. So soft. And at that moment, she was laughing and it sounded heavenly. And I went to look at her again and suddenly my lips were on hers…” His voice softened at the end, losing his train of thought and drifting. She had never quite seen him like this. “Then she was freaking out, and I told her some fucking stupid line like ‘it happens’. I just wanted her to calm down but… Now she must think I’d just...” He groaned, slumping a little and finally looking over at Vic. “Then she ran off to help Thomas.”

“So, what you’re saying then is that you did enjoy it? Potentially wanna do it again?” She felt transported back to the conversation she’d had with Y/n just hours earlier, posing almost the exact same question. She had never been this involved with any of her friends’ relationships to this extent, but something told her that her help was desperately needed in this case.

He raised a brow at her. “Did you not hear the part where after we kissed she then proceeded to freak out? I doubt that she even wants to see my face right now.” A heavy sigh left him and Victoria found herself laying a hand on his arm. “And of course I want to kiss her again, Vic. I close my eyes and she is there. Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

***

Y/n stood in the shoe aisle holding a pair of heels in her hand, contemplating for a second, before putting them on. Turning towards Ethan, who was walking towards her now, she realised it had eliminated all height differences between them. Definitely too high, she thought to herself. Holding onto his shoulders, she clumsily took them back off.

“Hey Ethan, find anything good?” The smile on her face felt forced but she was praying he wouldn’t see it.

He proudly holds up a black, studded belt with an intricate design on it, as well as a pink suede jacket. “How about you? I think I saw some nice trousers over there that might suit you. Wanna check it out?”

Y/n scoffed. She didn’t want to let her mood out on Ethan, trying her hardest to stay diplomatic. “Love the idea, but I doubt any of the clothes in here would go over my thigh. They’d fit you guys just great though. The jacket looks good, by the way.” She tried to distract herself from - well, everything - by putting the shoes away, mindlessly letting her fingers wander over the other pairs standing there.

Ethan looked at her in contemplation for a moment, but seemed to decide against following his train of thought. “At least try on some more shoes. Here, what about these?” He excitedly grabbed a pair of high-heeled boots, very much in the style she could see any of them wearing on stage - much less the one she usually went for when working.

A little intimidated, she took the shoes, if only to humour him. Ethan was nothing but a sweetheart, this was the least she could do. She put them on only with some slight struggle. She once again reached his height, almost amused by the feeling of seeing eye-to-eye with him, but the shoes felt strange. Very far removed from the usual flats, sneakers, boots, or whatever other pair that would allow her to keep running around all day without regretting it in the evening.

“Do I look silly?”

“You look gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” His voice had the most earnest tone to it and it was only supported by the way he studied her, looking her up and down. “Maybe walk a few steps to see if you can get used to it.”

She laughed as she proceeded to strut and partially dance some steps down the aisle to the song playing in the store. “I haven’t worn heels in so long, still got it though!”.” Her small smile grew into a grin, rather proud of herself for still being able to keep up. Going to the mirror near Ethan she looked at the shoes, then at herself in the shoes, then back at Ethan. Still, the insecurity took over for a moment. Her voice seemed small when she asked, “You think so?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he replied, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. “Want to go and see what the others think? I saw Thomas over there, and Vic and Dami disappeared into that corner a while ago.”

“Right, good idea.” She walked over to the dressing room looking for Damiano and Victoria, figuring they had gone to try on some things. Well, she was mainly looking for Victoria, still uncomfortable at the thought of facing the singer. She was in the middle of calling out for them when Damiano’s voice seeped through the curtain instead. She didn’t mean to listen, only to wait for him to stop so she could interrupt, but the second she realised what he was saying she wished she had never come over.

“Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

She stepped back. Frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of her chest, hurting, aching, breaking just that little bit. Processing what he had said seemed to happen not at all and then suddenly all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Anything but this suffocation. She needed to leave.

“I need some air.”

The words came out of her mouth much louder than anticipated, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that people were looking at her now. She didn’t care that was still wearing a pair of shoes that she had definitely not paid for yet. She just needed out, out, out, and away from all this. From him.

She didn’t realise she was walking on cobblestone until she wasn’t anymore, her ankle giving way, arms desperately trying to keep her from falling as she stumbled.

***

Damiano and Victoria stopped in their tracks as they heard someone approach from outside of the dressing room. Both heads turned towards the sound, when Y/n’s voice came through, telling maybe no one in particular that she needed some air. Her voice sounded strange. Damiano was convinced he had never heard that particular tone in it. As he threw back the curtain, he saw her stumble outside, clearly hectic, and he could feel a surge of panic run through him. Something wasn't right here. He forgot all about the conversation he was having, all about Victoria, and made his way outside. Not quite running, but the worry had him out of the door quickly. His heart sank when he saw her, lying on the floor just outside of the shop, holding her arm awkwardly, some scratches already beginning to bleed a little. As she looked up at him, he could see tears pricking at her eyes.

"Fuck, are you okay? What happened? I just saw-" The look on her face - or rather, the way she turned away from him - shut him up instantly. This wasn't the time to bombard her with questions. It didn't matter anyway. Instead of bothering her further, he quickly knelt down beside her, helping her sit up in return. He was acutely aware of the way she pulled away the second he touched her skin. Like she had been burned. ´

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry to ruin the shopping trip, you can go back in if you want to," she mumbled, trying to wipe some tears away but instead spreading some dirt and drying blood onto her cheek instead. Damiano wanted to touch her, clean her up, dry her tears, but the way she had pulled away a minute ago made him not want to try. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her more. He watched as she pulled out her wallet, handing it to him. "Go pay for the shoes please. And stop looking at me like that, I said I’m fine."

Yet, as soon as she moved, she winced in pain, taking a deep breath before getting herself up to a standing position. He found himself holding her arm in support, but she only accepted it for as long as necessary. As he let go, she let out a small cry of pain, obviously holding her hurt wrist the wrong way.

“You’re obviously not fine,” Damiano sighed. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but she was already in tears, turning away, and it simply didn’t seem like a sensible option. He looked around at the others as they gathered around Y/n. Only Thomas was missing, probably still blissfully unaware inside the shop and browsing for clothes. He tossed the wallet to Ethan. “Would you mind paying for her shoes real quick?” Ethan nodded, walking back into the store. Y/n was still standing between them, holding her arm close to her body in a protective gesture. Almost a similar expression to the one she had had on her face on the plane all those days ago. He wondered if something was scaring her the way the turbulence did back then.

“I am and will be fine, Damiano.” Her voice was stern. “I cry at a lot of things, this is no different. I wrap it up, put ice on it for a while and I’m golden.”

He watched as Victoria put a tentative hand on Y/n’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away from her touch, he noticed. “Y/n, that really doesn’t look like nothing. Look, it’s starting to swell up already.”

"What do you want me to do then?" She almost sounded resigned now as she looked back and forth between Damiano and Victoria. "We are in Amsterdam. I don't exactly have a GP on speed dial here. Now, where is Ethan with my wallet?"

She started walking towards the door of the shop, but Damiano defiantly held out his arm to stop her. "We are taking you to A&E."

Her face seemed to drain of all colour, and this time it was not because of the pain. "You are not taking me to a hospital."

Damiano looked at her, determination in his eyes, trying to make her understand that this was non-negotiable. Just for now, he would forget about the way she was brushing him off, the way she was evading his touch, the way she did not even want to look at him. Because right now she needed him and he would be there for her, if she wanted him to be or not.

"Yes, I am. Final decision. You would do the same for us if we got hurt. But we're responsible for you too, you're part of our crew, and right now, being responsible means getting this checked out. Besides, you're not getting your wallet back until you agree."

As soon as Ethan stepped outside again, this time with a slightly confused-looking Thomas in tow, Damiano snatched the wallet from his hands only to put it in his own jeans pocket. She was mad, obviously turning whatever was bothering her into anger, but Damiano was having none of it and he hoped the look in his eyes told her so.

"Fine! Take me to the hospital. But know that I am not happy about this."

"I don't need you to be. I just need you to come with me."

***

A quick refresher of her rudimentary Dutch verified that she was indeed looking for "spoedeisende hulp", another search on the internet confirmed that there was a hospital nearby, and before she knew it, she had been whisked into a taxi with Damiano. The others had decided to make their way back to the hotel, no point in clogging up the waiting room. Damiano promised to call with any news immediately.

Y/n wouldn't tell him, certainly not right then and there but she was happy that Damiano seemed to take the lead for once. She wouldn't have had any problems had any of the others needed medical help - but having people fuss about her? Making her the center of attention in a way she did not intend to be and having to accept help from others?... It was a completely different story. Still she appreciated the way he handled the situation, making sure she got registered with the administration straight away, listening attentively for further instructions, and leading her into the waiting area. She was also glad that it seemed to be quiet, not only because it would result in less of a wait, but also because the bustling would have made her all the more nervous.

This was out of her comfort zone. She had managed to avoid hospitals for the majority of her life, and yet here she was, because she panicked and couldn't handle her shoes. Looking down at them, she wanted to curse them. Curse the fact that they made her walk over to Damiano and Victoria in the first place, curse the fact that she had heard Damiano speak about her that way, curse the fact that they carried her out the door but not much further. She didn't even know where her actual shoes were. Hopefully, Ethan had kept his head and collected them on the way out after paying.

A few seats down, someone coughed loudly, reminding her exactly of where she was. It wasn't the worst hospital she had ever been in, that much was true, but she would rather not see one from the inside at all. She was dying for some comfort, some soothing words, a gentle touch, but as soon as Damiano made any attempt at reaching out to her she pulled back. His words were still heavily playing on her mind, the swelling of her wrist and the heat that seemed to seep from it a painful reminder. There was no way she was going to let herself fall, be reassured and consoled by him when he was so obviously sick of her presence. She wouldn't do that to either of them. Victoria with all her good intentions be damned. At least right now.

“Why are they not calling you in, it doesn’t even look like they’re doing anything,” Damiano grumbled next to her, eyes on the nurse’s station where a few of them were sitting. A few eyes were on them, something that looked like an excited discussion.

“Stop it, I’m sure they’re busy at work. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean they aren’t”, she bit back, slightly harsher than intended. He shot her a look, eyebrows raised, but she turned away, not looking to have a deeper conversation.

It left Damiano sitting in silence. Leaving both of them in the same situation, again. Y/n and him alone. Well, alone enough. Alone enough to not have anyone distract her from the uncomfortable feeling that settled over them. No Thomas being silly, no Victoria making a dumb comment, no calming presence of Ethan. Through this whole process, Y/n had basically crawled back into herself. She wished she could disappear.

She didn't know how much time had passed when they were finally called, too preoccupied with her own thoughts and the pain in her wrist. The nurse that beckoned them over had the warmest smile on her face, albeit tired eyes and it surprised Y/n how much comfort she found in the soft expression of the woman. White slacks, rolled up sleeves, pockets so full it looked like they were bursting at the seams, dark hair up in a bun. She found herself looking over at Damiano, wondering if he was aware of how gorgeous this woman was, how kind and calming her aura was, but his eyes were trained solely on her. She didn't allow herself to get lost in his gaze, quickly dropping hers and following the nurse into an examination room.

“Hi, I’m Ana, I’m going to be your nurse for today. You only speak English, am I correct?” She asked, gesturing for both of them to sit down, Y/n on the examination table and Damiano on a chair next to it. There was a slight twinge of an accent in her speech, but it was clear that she was fluent, which was a relief. Y/n didn’t even want to think about trying to get this done with the few words she knew in Dutch. She nodded, gratefully. “We’re going to go over what happened, and then I’ll do a physical examination, and the doctor will see you after as well.”

Y/n watched as the nurse fumbled with the computer, seemingly already typing things before Y/n had even said anything. “So, what exactly happened?”

“I, uh, tried on some heels and tripped on the cobblestone outside,” Y/n explained, taking a moment to glare at the offending shoes still on her feet. “Fell forwards, tried to soften the blow with my hands and now my wrist looks like this.” She held up the offending arm, gathering that the sight would speak for itself. The dried blood of the little scrapes on the palms of her hand did its best to make it look more dramatic than it felt.

“Oh, yeah that looks quite painful,” the nurse winced. “I see you’ve scraped your knee as well.”

Y/n looked down, slightly confused, only to realise her jeans had torn, revealing a beat-up knee underneath. Crap, she hadn’t even noticed, too occupied with… well, everything else. This felt like it was getting worse by the second, she never wanted to get back to a hotel room this badly. She felt like crying, but letting Damiano see her composure waver was the last thing she would allow.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, moving her legs as if it gave her a chance of hiding her bruises.

“It’s not nothing, Y/n,” Damiano sighed next to her, before turning towards the nurse. “I think it’s more serious than she’s letting on.” In the same determined tone from before.

The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them. “It’s probably the shock of it.”

Oh yeah, the shock. Mainly that of finding out that Damiano didn’t want her around, apparently.

The nurse asked a few more questions, time of the accident, previous medical history, medication she was taking regularly, but they barely reached her. She found herself answering curtly, with Damiano filling in where he could. She wouldn’t tell him she was thankful for it. Even though the idea of him taking care of her made her emotional.

“Right, let’s get that wrist looked at then.” Y/n had feared it would be painful but as soon as the nurse started handling her? She knew it was her job to feel the joints, test her range of motion, move her arm. But unwelcome tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to push Damiano’s hand away, as she almost reveled in the comforting touch on her back. The small talk didn’t even begin to make for a distraction. Yet, something was nagging at the back of Y/n’s head as she watched the nurse interact with Damiano. There was a familiarity in her eyes… Did she know who he was? Surely not.

“This will need an X-Ray to make sure it’s not broken,” the nurse concluded, finally letting go of her wrist. Damiano whispered a quiet ‘You okay?’ over to her, but she couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will bandage the scrapes a bit while we wait for a doctor. So, what brings you to Amsterdam today?”

“Work,” Y/n answered, trying to keep some degree of privacy, but Damiano didn’t seem to mind butting in immediately.

“I’m in a band, we’re on tour. She’s our assistant and overall angel.” She wanted to shoot him a look, both at the unnecessary honesty and the over-the-top way he was describing her, but a touch to her banged-up knee distracted her.

A doctor popped into the room quickly verified everything the nurse had told him And before she knew it she was being led down a hallway to get an X-Ray. Damiano stayed behind in the room.

“Cute couple, the two of you,” the nurse piped up next to her.

“Um, yeah, no. Not a couple. Just a working relationship.”

“You sure about that?”

Y/n almost wanted to stop dead in her tracks, ask the nurse what on earth had given her that idea, but she also knew she was here to get examined and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the person responsible.

“Very. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s made that crystal clear.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t look like you in a way that suggests he doesn’t like you. If anything, I would have guessed he was head-over-heels for you.”

Y/n was stumped for a reply. Was this woman making fun of her? She didn’t look like someone who would. So why would she say these things? With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Y/n decided she would have to talk to Damiano at some point. Have him either stand by his statement and back off, or explain what the hell he was doing. Because she was starting to lack comprehension about any of it.

She was glad the rest of the appointment seemed to fly by in a hurry, or maybe Y/n’s brain had simply gone into power-saving mode, not really taking it what as happening around her anymore. Her exhaustion was tangible. The X-Ray was done quickly enough, someone sent her back to the examination room, and before she knew it, the doctor had announced that it was, in fact, not broken. A quick wrap around her wrist, some instructions on how to care for it (that Damiano seemed to listen to more closely than she did), and she was almost out the door. She was sure she would have fallen asleep on the examination table. It was only the nurse quickly saying her goodbye and adding another comment that almost threw her off balance again.

“Bye, guys. And by the way, nice show yesterday. I promise I wasn’t the one who threw the bra.”

***

It was dark out by the time Y/n and Damiano made it back to the hotel. He had made sure to text the others, telling them to go for dinner without them, they’d be fine, and he figured she would need some rest. The hotel restaurant was quiet enough and he motioned towards it, but Y/n shook her head.

“I’ve got a few snacks in my room, but honestly, I’m not hungry at all. I just want to go to bed.”

Yet, tired as she was, it only took one pointed look for her to shut him up, so he simply nodded and led her towards the elevators.

“At least let me bring you to your room and see if you need any more help. And I can give you your wallet back.”

He could tell in the way she stiffened next to him, the way she barely reacted to his words, that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He was desperate to find out what was bothering her and why she was so distant, but he couldn’t figure it out. Was the kiss still playing on her mind? Was she uncomfortable with him? It was the last thing he wanted. He needed to show her he was willing to be there for her.

Closing the door of her room behind him, a shout rang through the room.

“These fucking things, I hate them!” She was loud and angry while trying to get her shoes off, but her voice was wavering and if he watched her in just the right light he was convinced he was seeing the beginning of tears forming in her eyes.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” he tried to soothe, unsure if he was going about it the wrong way, but quickly bending in front of where she was sitting on the bed. She kicked her heels once more in frustration, obviously unable to get them off with her wrist still compromised.

“Don’t shush me when it’s all your fault,” she whispered and he almost stopped dead in his tracks, but he figured she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He stayed quiet, against everything in his heart telling him to find out what she was talking about. Instead, he focused on removing her shoes, gentle touches against her bare skin. Looking up at her, he realised that she was studying him, watching his every move, and he concentrated even harder on being the perfect gentleman. Yet, when he pulled the second shoe off her, he couldn’t help letting his hand rest on her calf a little longer than necessary.

“Come on, let’s get you into some pyjamas,” he decided, getting up and putting some distance between them. Too afraid of getting ahead of himself, of letting his hands wander more than appropriate places, of saying something he shouldn’t. He threw what he gathered to be her sleepwear in her general directions. “If you need any help changing because of your wrist, let me know.”

He hoped his smile was as sincere as he meant it. Either way, she didn’t give him much of a reaction, grabbing the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. A few sharp hisses reached him through the door, but he knew better than to offer his help again.

He wasn’t sure what the acceptable place for him to sit was, but since the room didn’t offer anything but a worn-out armchair and the bed, he decided that choosing the far side of the mattress wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even realise she had left the en-suite until her voice reached him.

“We really need to talk, Damiano.” She sounded resigned and tired and he wished he could wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but it didn’t seem like the right time. As soon as she reached the side of the bed opposite him, she all but collapsed on it. She sleepily grabbed one of the many unnecessary hotel pillows they placed on the bed and nuzzled her face into it.

“There will be more than enough time for that tomorrow,” he replied, grabbing the blanket and making sure she was fully covered by it. “It’s been a long day, try to get some rest.”

She didn’t even manage to argue anymore, eyes already fluttering closed, breathing slowly becoming more steady. She was gorgeous like this. A soft calm overtaking the scene. No wall up that kept everyone else from her inner thoughts. No front that she put up in desperate attempts to remain professional. Just a softness etched into her features that highlighted her natural divine beauty.

He wanted to take her worries away. He hoped that whenever they did get to talk tomorrow, it would yield some clarity. The last thing he wanted was for her to ever feel this way. He had grown so attached to her, so obsessed with the idea of having her around, that he already feared the end of the tour. If she would give him any option to stay in her life, he would take it, whatever way it was.

Damiano barely noticed the way he was slipping down on the mattress, his fingers softly patting her head, eyelids getting heavy. The last thing on his mind was Y/n, sleeping soundly next to him and wishing for nothing but to make her happy.

***

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roniscloud · 3 years

Text

lhs - runnin’

lee heeseung [a. + f. 4700 words] runnin’

to you

you came up on some new

i know i shouldn’t feel blue

‘cause i was runnin’ out of time for you

synopsis: you met heeseung in your freshman year of college and immediately hit it off. you’ve made it to your third year and when everyone including yourselves thought that you were each other’s endgame, the devastation when you two split was immeasurable. you both know there’s still love between you. this break allows you both to realize new things. can you two find your ways back to each other? will this be the final goodbye?

genre + tropes: angst. fluff. comedy. college!au. establishedrelationship!au. exes!au.

warnings: fem reader. swearing. arguing. nosy friends. cold heeseung and cold reader. drifting relationship. interventions. slight suggestive themes but it’s only mentioned like once. they both pine over each other. mentions of alcohol and binge drinking. maybe not a happy ending. if you choose to see it that way. whoops. appearances of the rest of enha plus txt yeonjun and soobin.

i. the break

“so this is how it’s gonna end? i thought we were doing fine.”

heeseung erupts into an even angrier fit, “are you kidding me? we are not fucking fine. in what world is this fine? tell me!”

you scoff from where you stand cross-armed on the other side of the bedroom. “well, can you really blame me? it’s hard to see if there’s something wrong if we never see each other.”

“exactly my point! we don’t see each other.”

the two of you have been at each other’s throats since heeseung showed up at your apartment. you have no idea how long ago that was or when the argument started. all you remember is coming up to him when he arrived, wanting to actually spend some time with him. instead he shrugged you off and ignored you, blaming the fatigue. the rest has been a blur. one of you made an offhand comment and now here you are: frustrated and in another fight.

a quick recap: you two met at a mutual friend’s party. you thought that each other was attractive and he ended up asking you out. from there you kept going out, fell in love, dated, and everyone thought you were perfect together. three years later and it’s getting tiring. life has been draining trying to balance it all.

“and who’s fault is that?”

annoyed, he snaps back, “oh please, you can not put the blame solely on me.”

“bullshit. i sure can when i’m the only one making an effort here. i’ve actually been trying to save us. you, on the other hand…” you pause again, rolling your eyes, “well, we both know just how much you care.”

his jaw drops, defensively he spits back, “are you genuinely implying that i don’t care about you? about us? that’s rich.”

you move to sit on the edge of the bed, staring at a single spot on the floor. you can see the shadow of heeseing pacing back and forth. you sit there, not looking at each other. the only sounds to be heard are his footsteps and the heavy sighs from you. you think back to the last several weeks. you recall each of the times you have been able to see each other. there’s no substance, nothing memorable. the only thing that comes to mind is that you always end up not talking at all or arguing.

just like right now.

“be real, heesung. when was the last time we went on a date? when was the last time you stayed the night without it ending up with you just knocking out? when was the last time we actually sat down and had a conversation? be honest because i will. i can’t remember.”

“and yet you thought we were fine?”

“well it’s better to believe a good lie than face the hurtful truth. i’m trying to save this relationship. i’m trying all the fucking time and you don’t do shit.”

he spits back frustrated, “well maybe that’s because there’s nothing to be saved.”

“are you kidding me right now? am i supposed to be scared? you tell me that there’s nothing to be saved and expect me to just give up?”

“sorry but i’m not running from this anymore.”

“you’re not sorry and we both know it.” you push yourself back up to stand, resting your hands on your hips, “you can’t say you’re sorry and expect me to forgive you. that’s not how this works.”

“this isn’t what i wanted to happen. this isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“then make it work.”

“i- i can’t,” he holds his hands over his face, running one through his hair, “it’s too much.”

“so what? what do you mean?”

he finally stops. he takes a deep breath and lets it all out, “i just can’t see this working anymore, at least not like this.”

ii. week one

you thought this would be more difficult. that this would be the hardest pill to swallow. the first week apart may actually be the easiest. nothing has really changed. that’s probably because you haven’t told anyone that you two are no longer together. perhaps the time that you didn’t spend with each other before the break up had trained you for this.

life goes on, with or without heeseung. that’s what you keep telling yourself. you choose to get caught up with your life. you have other priorities. it’s not a crime to focus on yourself for the first time in three years.

heeseung feels the same. he doesn’t see any point on dwelling on the breakup. sure, he was the one who made the decision. he’s the one who put it out there. he’s the one who ended it and the one who is taking responsibility.

lucky for both of you, you don’t have any courses together and your schedules don’t really coincide. there’s no chance at any awkward run-ins. there is this weird, tiny feeling though. there’s this small inkling of something missing. you both suppress it. i mean, hell, the breakup just happened.

iii. scheming

meanwhile, your friends have all seemed to notice that the two of you are off. they aren’t sure what it is. they get that you two have had some time apart, but you’re both adults with lives. you have your own classes, jobs, other friends, and such. no one mentions it because they don’t think it’s their business.

but come on… there’s no way they won’t get to the bottom of it. our resident gossips, sunoo and sunghoon, team up and make it their mission to snoop around. of course, they take precautions to not get caught. the scheming duo find out nothing, to no avail.

now the gang of the scheming duo plus jay, jake, and niki have convened in the common room of jungwon’s dorm building. the 02z are all playing billiards in one corner. sunoo battles jungwon in a game of ping pong. the youngest of the group sits by himself on one of the couches, contemplating if he should speak up. they’ve been in a heated discussion as they try to figure out what exactly has been irking them.

riki, against his own conscience, speaks up to the five. he has this gut feeling and innocently wants to voice his opinion. “what if,” the young boy start out while gauging the faces of the others, “now don’t get mad and just hear me out.” he stops again, taking his time to make eye contact with each of the older boys, waiting until they all nod, “what if… they broke up?”

the group of friends all exchange glances with each other before breaking out into laughter. jay composes himself a bit, still chuckling when he says, “seriously? you think they broke up? heeseung and y/n? yeah, no way.”

sunoo leans onto the ping pong table and eggs him on, “they are literally soulmates.”

jungwon sets his racket down and goes to plop himself next to riki on the couch, “there is no way in hell the two of them split.”

iv. breaking news

“yeah, we split.” plain and simple. three words that crushed the poor hearts of jake and jungwon. he broke the news over brunch. he sensed their curiosity when they deliberately never brought you up.

“good joke there, dude. almost had me for a second.” jake says, awkwardly with a forced laugh.

the youngest of the three chiming in and agreeing, “yeah, that’s really funny.” a silence hits the booth. “you are joking… right?”

the oldest then looks back and forth between the two, tilting his head to one side like a confused pup. he doesn’t see why they think he would joke and simply replies, “nope. you guys haven’t asked so i’m guessing you tried to snoop around and pick up on my cues. i’m also guessing sunoo’s behind this whole operation.”

“ok wait,” jake interjects, “what do you mean you broke up? you can’t just break up.”

jungwon agrees, “he’s right. you two are just playing a prank on us.”

“guys, i’m serious. y/n and i are no longer together.” the two just freeze, jaws dropped, eyes wide. “besides, it’s better this way.”

v. bad timing

meanwhile the remaining four members of their friend group have met up in the campus library in an attempted study session. so far, they’ve just gone back to gossiping and slacking off. the boys all find themselves teetering on the verge of sleep. that is until sunghoon catches you walking in. immediately going to softly pat the others back awake, they all look up confused. trying to stay subtle, hoon jerks his head to the side in your direction.

you make your way to one of the shelves, searching high and low for a book you need for your literature class. sneaking up behind you comes choi yeonjun, the library aid and a friend of yours.

“need any help?”

“no thanks, i’m good jun.” you give him a polite smile.

unbeknownst to both of you, the failure of a study group has creeped to a closer table. they knew that you two were friends but they still can’t help but eavesdrop. “will you two please shut up so we can hear them?” the annoyed face evident on sunghoon’s face at the bickering of sunoo and niki. he turns to see jay, snacking and not paying attention. he rolls his eyes at the group, his gaze then catching yeonjun leading you out of the shelves. quickly shushing the three and nodding his head in your direction again, they finally get the hint.

yeonjun steps in front of you, “so you know my friend soobin, right?”

“soobin… as in choi soobin?”

yeonjun flashes his bright smile, “that’s the one.”

“yeah i know him. we had a stats class together a while back. he definitely taught me a few tricks around a calculator.” you laugh with him, “he’s super sweet, and needless to say cute too.”

“well, am i glad to hear that! long story short, he’s kinda been crushing on you lately and wants to know if you’re free. he mentioned your shared class before but he said he never got your number.”

“since you have mine already, go ahead and give it to him. tell him i’m free whenever he is.”

yeonjun raises his eyebrows at your boldness, “will do. i just wanted to ask you first before i gave it to him because… y’know…”

“no worries, i completely understand.”

he gives a quick goodbye before going back to his desk. storming quickly, four faces appear in front of you, all a combination of confusion, shock, and anger.

sunoo starts, “um… y/n. why are you telling yeonjun to give your number to another guy?”

“yeah, are you cheating on heeseung?” his partner in crime, sunghoon, joins in.

you pause and scan their faces. your face dawns an equally as confused expression. “how can i cheat on someone who isn’t my boyfriend?”

four jaws simultaneously drop. riki’s being the first to close and answer a bit hushed, “i knew it.”

jay turns to him in disbelief, “not the time, niki!”

“did heeseung not tell you guys?” you ask them slowly. “i assumed he would be the one to let you all know.”

“that you two broke up?!” sunoo asks angrily, being shushed by yeonjun from the counter. giving an apologetic smile then tuning back into your conversation, “what do you mean you two broke up?”

“we just… broke up. that’s it. end of story. now if you’ll excuse me, i have to actually study.”

they watch you check out the book you came in for originally and walk out the doors, unsure of what to do next.

vi. the intervention

arranging your monthly movie night was not exactly the easiest task given the tensions surrounding two people in your group. so the only logical solution that they all could think of was to simply not to tell one of you that the other was coming over. a fool-proof plan.

in the dorm of the 02z, you did not expect to see heeseung when you walked in.

he gets up from his spot on the couch, “what the hell is going on here?”

“yeah, an explanation would be nice.” you cross your arms as you glare at the younger boys.

niki, trying to act as mediator gestures for both of you two sit on the loveseat—the same loveseat that was always reserved for the two of you before. “this is an intervention.”

after the confession of their intentions, everyone goes quiet. not a single word is spoken for several minutes, no one knowing how to start. after much internal contemplation, jungwon finally attempts to start. “we brought you two here today because- you know what, i can’t do this.” he stops and cuts himself off, burying his face in his hands.

sunoo sits next to him with his arms crossed. “how dare you two? our parents gets divorced and we don’t even get a notice.” it was common for them to refer to you and heeseung as the parents of the group, being the oldest. although something about sunoo still calling you by that nickname stings, him shaking his head to display his disappointment making you feel guilty.

you see heeseung out of the corner of your eye avoiding looking up to your friends. “look, i don’t see the big deal. we broke up. that happens when relationships don’t work out.”

sunghoon quickly intervenes, “how can you say it isn’t a big deal? you’re letting three years go to waste and that’s all you can say? that’s what happens.” he scoffs at how shameless you come off.

“well, would you rather us stay together even when we were unhappy?” their reactions were a mix of shouts, the words yes, of course not, and duh all blending into each other.

that’s what brought your ex boyfriend out of his daze. “y/n has a point. we broke up and it’s over. we were no longer happy and i don’t see the point in bringing it up again either. it’s in the past. let it go.” he says rather coldly and sternly. him actually saying it and acknowledging it caused that weird feeling to come back. his body language is off, too. your years together has taught you enough about heeseung to know when he’s upset, especially with himself.

jake takes his turn, looking down at his fidgeting hands and muttering sadly, “but you promised each other forever.”

that prompts you and heeseung to glance at each other quickly, making eye contact and it lingering for a couple of seconds. you look away first, not noticing that his stare doesn’t leave you.”some promises just can’t be kept.” your response then making him turn away.

“bullshit.” it’s the first word uttered by jay this entire time. “neither of you are the type to break promises.”

“some things can’t be helped,” heeseung defends.

jay, getting angrier, asks his friend, “did you know that she’s already going on a date? yeah, that guy, soobin. i’m pretty sure you know who he is. your ex,” he makes sure to stress the last word with a certain degree of annoyance, “thinks he’s cute.”

emotionless, heeseung answers back, “good for her, then.”

you were sure that you were over him, that’s why you said yes to the date. but something about him not caring leaves you feeling odd.

jungwon stops your train of thought, “no, you’re supposed to be upset. you’re supposed to get jealous and confess you still want to be with her. you’re supposed to fight for her and be together.”

another quick glance between the two of you, lasting longer than the previous one. no words are said on his end, but you know exactly what he’s trying to say. “he doesn’t have to fight when i’m the one who ended it.” you knew him. you knew he couldn’t admit to the others his decision. after all, he wants to be a good role model even in his darkest times. he couldn’t crush their idea of love and you did what you had to do. you lied for his sake—and maybe even yours.

vii. him

two months have passed since the breakup. there’s tension amongst the friend group, the six not wanting to pick sides between you and heeseung. they’re constantly going back and forth, like they’re walking on eggshells as to not bring up something that only happened with the other.

to get your mind off everything, you’ve found comfort in soobin. well, more accurately you’ve found comfort in between his sheets, or wherever you two decide for it to go down. that’s not to say the dates aren’t great. you’re not official and you both know that. your latest date, however, couldn’t help but feel weird.

the date was going pretty well. don’t get me wrong—soobin is a great guy. he’s sweet, caring, funny, and handsome. you have a lot in common like your taste in drinks and movies. maybe if you had met him first, you would’ve dated him… but you didn’t meet him first. you met heeseung first, and soobin isn’t heeseung.

you found yourself drifting from the conversation now and then, thinking about how heeseung would’ve been at that moment. you think back to his habits, particularly the way he raises his eyebrows whenever he’s excited or talking about something he’s passionate about. you always found it endearing. over the course of dinner, you are able to notice that soobin has some cute habits too, like him covering his face when he gets shy or puffing out his cheeks. but it still isn’t the same.

“you two deserve each other.”

soobin catches your attention again with that comment. “what?”

“you and heeseung. i know that look. don’t try to lie to me.”

“look, heeseung is my past, and i want it to stay that way.”

“do you really want it to stay that way, or are you just afraid of what could happen if you let him back into your present?”

you give him a teasing glare, “don’t get all philosophical with me. i just don’t think he and i can go back to how we were before.”

“what’s so bad about you two changing? obviously if it didn’t work out, you shouldn’t try to be what you were before.”

“can’t i just try with you?”

“as much as i would love for you to give me that chance, i can’t do that to you or to myself. it’s not fair.”

you hesitantly ask him, “but is it worth it?”

“that’s not my decision to make.”

viii. her

now that you’re virtually not in his life, he seems to be looking for you everywhere. actually… rather than going out of his way to look for you, everything just reminds him of you. the jingles of the commercials you always sang along to, your favorite songs on the radio, the reruns of 90’s shows you always binged. hell, even when he was making ramen, he was reminded of how you would make his favorite for him every time he was stressed over an exam. he was sitting in the back of the lecture hall, trying so hard to stay awake for his 3 hour long class with the most boring professor on campus. he fought the urge to text you since it felt like second nature to rely on you to help cheer him up.

there was a particular night when it really hit him. reality smacked him in the face late one evening. heeseung was bored out of his mind, laying alone in bed, aimlessly browsing netflix to find something to watch. he thinks to himself y/n would’ve slammed this laptop closed and talked all night about random and obscure topics. he laughs to himself, reliving the memories. right then, it’s obvious. he misses her.

ix. promises

the rain hitting your bedroom window had no help on your already gloomy mood. what did help was the bottle of soju- well more realistically, four bottles of soju. it was all the liquid courage you needed to call heeseung at three in the morning.

you sat drowsily on the rug of your living room, your phone on speaker and placed in front of you as you stared out the dewy glass. you heard the phone ring seven times, ready to hang up until you heard his groggy voice come out from the other end. “hello? y/n, why are you up?”

you laugh softly and ask him, sounding loopy, “why are you up?”

“because you’re calling me. would you like to give me a reason why, and are you drunk?”

“maybe. anyways, you know… i was thinking. we broke a lot of promises and it hurts. i have to know that we’re not bad people. i have to keep at least one, right?”

heeseung groans but lets you ramble, knowing that you won’t stop until you’ve said it all, “go on…”

“we made a promise that if something was going on, if we were in a dark place, that we would talk to someone. well, if you couldn’t tell by now, i’m not in the best place. the first person i thought to talk to was you.”

“why me?”

“shhh… don’t ask questions. i know you’re tired so just stay on the phone and let me talk. ok?”

he goes quiet for a bit, sighing, “ok.”

“i miss you. i do. i don’t expect you to miss me but i just want to say it,” pausing to hiccup, “soobin helped me realize some things, saying some crap like we deserve each other.” you chuckle as you recall his words, “maybe he said it because bad people deserve bad people. maybe he said it because in our own fucked up lives, we’re the only ones who can understand each other. i did a lot of thinking and i’ve come to the conclusion that we don’t. because if we stay together, we can’t move on. we can’t grow. we can’t become good people, no matter how much we want it. that’s life. sometimes, no matter how much we want something, no matter how much we wish on stars or pray, some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“y/n, get some rest…”

“wait, i’m not done. you already can tell i’ve been drinking and to be honest i have been, for a while. i do it,” starting to choke up and sniffle, “because it helps me forget. even if it’s just for a minute that i can forget what happened, i’ll drink as much as it takes. i’ll grow out of it, eventually. i know i will, but for now… i have to do what i have to do. i’m sure you can relate.” you laugh again, getting more drowsy. you bring your legs up, hugging your knees. faintly, the sounds of heeseung’s snores play from your phone. you smile to yourself, “i wish you were here, singing me a lullaby. i don’t know when you fell asleep but goodnight. take care of yourself.”

cuddled up in his bed, heeseung hears you hang up. he lets you believe he didn’t hear what you said. he knows the reality of it all and the weight that you both are carrying. knowing that you won’t check your phone for the rest of the night, he sends you a quick text: bookstore, saturday, noon. goodnight.

as he turns off his phone to try to fall back asleep, he sees his reflection in the black screen. he sees his puffy, red eyes and his tear-stained cheeks. the end of it all is coming and finally, you two are ready for it.

x. love song

seeing him in person is a good idea. clearing the air, letting it all out, getting closure. all good ideas, you hope. walking into the bookstore was a weird feeling. when you spot him sitting by the window, you quietly make your way over. he looks up at your new presence, his feet shuffling out of nervousness. you notice the glass of pear juice on the small coffee table in front of him, already half empty.

“hi,” he says like a whisper.

“hi,” you awkwardly respond. it’s unlike the two of you to not know how to start a conversation. you make your way onto the cushioned seat, letting yourself get comfortable to help ease the tension. you each avoid the other’s gaze, not knowing how to begin. you sigh and finally ask, “how have you been?”

“busy,” he says as he nods, “finally took up actual music lessons. thought it would be better to have someone who’s played piano and guitar professionally instead of trying to teach myself.”

you softly giggle, “that’s good. you’ve always loved music.”

“yeah… how about you?”

“same, busy. i got the t.a position i applied for like forever ago.”

“congrats! you still looking to become a teacher?”

“well, generally yeah. i was having my doubts before but i just fell back into it. finally being able to be there, present, and guiding others… that’s what i want.” you sit there across from him, watching him and taking it all in. the man in front of you is heeseung, but not the heeseung you knew. no, this is the better version of him. the version of him where he can focus on himself. the version of heeseung that’s glowing and happy and ready to take on the world. “so, look. there’s no easy or delicate way to put it but i think there are things we both need to get off our chests.”

“agreed. since it all happened—the fights, the breakups, the ambush interventions—we haven’t actually talked.”

“those interventions… they were silly but the guys did help me realize some things. we’re growing up. sure, i thought we had this plan of us graduating, getting married, having a family, settling down, growing old. we both wanted that type of life. sadly, it’s not what happened and we have to live with it.”

he lets out a chuckle, “heeseung and y/n: meant for each other and meant to be.”

“but not meant to last. what a bittersweet and poetic ending."

“it’s like people always say: right person, wrong time.”

“you know… you used to tell me that our love song was the soundtrack to the best life you could live.” you reach out and take his hand in yours, “i just,” pausing to take a deep breath and compose yourself, “i just want you to know… that if anything happens-”

he cuts you off with a quiet gasp, whispering your name with a shaky voice, “don’t.”

you shake your head and gently squeeze his hand, “if anything happens… if in the end, we don’t find our way back and it isn’t us, don’t think we ended on a bad note.” you drop your head as you chuckle lightly before continuing, “cause you were always on key.” you give him a small grin, trying your hardest to not make things worse by crying. “we were just playing different tunes.”

he pulls you in closer to him, placing his hands softly on your cheeks. “i always hated seeing you cry,” he says as he wipes away the tears on your face, not bothering about his own. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close for the last time.

you stay there in his warmth, hearing him sniffle as he tries to hold back the falling tears. when you pull away, you tell him “i will always love you. maybe not in the way i thought i would but it’s still there.”

“maybe in our next life, it’ll be the right time.” with that, he leaves a kiss on your forehead, leaves the bookstore, and leaves your life. your duet that worked in perfect harmony now playing a beautiful cadence—two wandering artists, free to fill your own wretched worlds with new melodies, the bliss and tranquility of it all. the hope that maybe one day, you’ll be in each other’s lives again is enough.

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Text

50. In the end

Prompt used- slamming hand over others mouth to shut them up | secret relationship | too fluffy |

" kiss me on top of the world and if the world Wants to watch, they can enjoy the enjoy while it lasts "

Harry was tired. He was tired of pretending that it was alright, when it so wasn't. This wasn't how his eighth year, after years of fighting should have been. He was supposed to be free and at liberty of how he could be and who he should've been.

When they all sat in the Great hall having breakfast, Harry only wondered how strange it would be to just walk up to and sit next to his boyfriend, eat with him, feed him even . He hated that student's did that with whoever they wanted after the whole solidarity between house's to freely sit at whatever tables they wanted but, harry was sure an exception. It boiled him when he looked at other couple's sitting together, Holding hands, maybe even making out in a hallway, and harry was deprived of such pleasure. He was even denied of even talking to his boyfriend normally.

But harry wanted to hold on because shit was his relationship great, it was incredible. For the first time in his life, he felt noticed, felt something other than just wild curiousness, anger and grief, he felt loved and not like the I support you Harry, we're like your family harry, it was the I wanna kiss you till their lungs gave out kind of love and was it incredible.

He made plans after plans, tricks after tricks, did things after things only for it to be rejected by his secret boyfriend, claiming" they'll never let us be " and was he right. And yet here he was planning another plan to convince his beloved boyfriend to come clean, until his attention broke from walking to hearing a thud of Someone falling over near. Harry hurried to be at the scene, only to be met with Draco being surrounded by some first and second year watching Draco on ground.

" what the hell happened ?" Harry asked as he kneeled down to help Draco up on his shoulder

" pot- what- what- I don't need your help potter " Draco sneered, still however in tinge of pain

" malfoy, you're hurt. Just don't try to act I'm all independent, let me help-"

" I don't need your help, potter " Draco snapped lightly

Harry was half mad and even was about to drop back Draco, only if he hadn't groaned in his attempt to walk.

Harry rolled his eyes, hung his arm around his shoulder and helped him to the hospital Wing

" I said-"

" I know " harry snapped, Draco didn't try to further counteract much upon it, even he knew not to meddle with mad harry.

Once they had reached the hospital wing, harry had helped Draco upon the bed, waiting for madam pomfrey to come back

" we could've been caught Harry-"

" right because oh my god, I had your shoulder around my neck " harry rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front

" it's not that- the way you just wanted to help, I understand but-"

" okay that's enough Draco. I can't do this " harry sighed closing his eyes in mere frustration

" what do you mean you can't do this ?" Draco asked completely puzzled

" this- look- what we have is great, phenomenal even but I can't sit there and watch my boyfriend getting flirted over by someone else, or live under the shadows all the time because we two According to people don't belong together. I thought I could do this, this secret way but I can't and the reason is I don't want to. I don't want to live where I'm Afraid that if I come out and exclaim my love for my boyfriend people are going to hate me. I can't- I just- I want to be able to hold you hand publicly Draco not because I enjoy public display of affection but because you're my boyfriend and I have the right to hold your hand, publicly or not and people doesn't decide that for me. So either you live under the shadows Draco or not, that's your decision because I'm not going to "

Draco stared at harry mildly amazed at the little outburst. He was aware that it agitated Harry with the whole secret agenda of a relationship they had but he didn't know that Harry wanted to let go of it Because he couldn't remain private anymore.

" so- y- you're breaking up with me ?" Much to Draco's disappointment and his attempt to keep from Trembling, his voice came out slightly in a higher octave and rather cracked.

Harry sadly looked at Draco, pulling the chair next to his bed and holding Draco's hands " Merlin, no- or yes- I don't know. I just- I want you to know I Want you Draco, however I can't stay where everything is a secret and we are even forbidden to talk to.. I want you to understand that-"

" and I want you to understand the consequences " Draco lightly snapped

Harry exhaled, slowly leaving Draco's hands" then you care about the consequences Draco and I- I'll wait for you when you stop thinking of it " and with that Harry left the infirmary.

Yes, they partially broke, except Harry still sent him small cookies from the kitchen just how he liked but refused to meet Draco's eyes, even In secret.

That was until the news started to spread silently about Harry's current sexuality and how people really weren't surprised. Some maybe had bitched Harry behind his back, but it was sure harry really didn't care. He was happy with his coming out and was by far enjoying the little time in the boring sun of the lightness of the news.

Draco, however felt broken and guilty of not being able to give his boyfriend the simple pleasure of even smiling in public. He saw how Harry was happy to be out in open, but Draco could see how Harry wasn't half as thrilled as he should've been and somewhere Draco was at blame for their recent so called break up. It wasn't the same however, until Draco had caught up harry finding some book in the last aisle of the library before restricted section began.

Draco pondered whether he should go back, but he missed the way Harry kissed him and it had been entirely a week since that happened and Draco wanted to risk the world to feel it again.

Pretending to have been looking for something too, draco entered the last aisle, filled with distant silence and the sound of their breathing.

" harry" Draco finally after contemplating for five minutes spoke up

" malfoy" harry nodded, not moving his gaze from finding the book..

He hated being called malfoy, but he felt as though he deserved it "how are you doing ?"

Harry finally looked at Draco with a distant gaze before he turned to look for the book again " fine, thank you "

Draco breathed as he stepped closer to harry and with much hesitation wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, nuzzling his head onto Harry's shoulder from the back, giving him a small kiss over his exposed neck. Harry's stern composure quickly melted away only for a second, one second of enjoying the warmth before he became stern again

" malfo-"

" Draco " Draco corrected. Harry could be mad But he wasn't a heart of steel,

" Draco- what are you doing ?"

" trying to apologize "Draco muffled

" funny because I didn't hear you apologizing" harry scoffed as he remained still, his hands by his side, with an uncontrolled urge to hold Draco's.

" because you didn't let me- so- I'm gonna say now. I'm sorry, harry, would you forgive me ?"Draco pouted looking up from his lashed to the side of Harry's face

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply " fine " and he broke free of the hold

" what?" Draco offensively asked, almost snapped

" you asked for my forgiveness, I forgave you. Now If you'll excuse, I'm trying to find something " harry began searching for the book again.

" just like that ? Harry I apologized " Draco threw his arms in the sir

" and i accept your apology-"

" no you're no-"

" what do you want Draco? Kiss you and tell you that it's fine ? You didn't mention what you're apologizing for-"

" I'm apologizing for being an asshole and forcing you to keep us a secret even if you hate it "

" and does mean that you want to come out in open as boyfriend's?" Harry asked crossing his arms finally getting into one on one conversation with Draco

Draco looked at harry as he though Harry had asked for his kidney.

" see that's the problem !! You still don't want us to go public and I can't have that draco..I want you, I do, I really like you but not at the cost of only having you secretly " harry sighed as he subtracted some distance between them

Draco's jaw clenched as he chewed his cheeks " you think it's easy. Of course you do. You're the saviour of the wizarding world for the love of Merlin, people love you already. But have you even tried to give it as much of a thought that I'm still under probation of crimes I didn't commit only because I was on the dark side, because I'm an ex death eater, or the fact my father still have connections with murderers in the world to kill me if it ever gets out. It's easy for you to say harry, but me, it's not. People hate me and you don't have go through with it everyday, I have to. You think i like this, being in secret, fuck Harry no, I want to show the world that your ass is mine but I can't, because I don't want your death to be on my sake and only because I can't lose you. I want to kiss you and show it to the world as much as you but I can't. Because that's something I can't do " Draco's eyes almost welled with tears by the time he added " I don't want to be the reason people hate you Harry, I don't"

Harry immediately frowned as he walked further towards Draco until he was only few inches apart and held his arms " you can- you'll never lose me Draco. You can never be someone people will hate me for. I won't let that happen" harry sighed as he added " you're right, I- I understand and we can do this in secret. If that's what it is. So what if we can't be like the normal couple's, Holding hands under the tree or what if we can't, just go on a date under the stars, I can work with room of requirements, it's cozy anyways. I can't believe I was such a prat for this reason and you know what- I'm sorry for being a terrible boyfriend for not understanding you. I was just so crazed that I forgot that our differences still lie and even if we change, some people won't "

Harry shrugged, smiling lightly " do you forgive me Draco ?"

Draco wanted to say something, just something that meant screw the world, fuck what the world thinks, or something that was remotely related To I want to kiss you on the top of the world and the world can watch if they want but just as Draco tried to speak up, he's pressed against the back shelf lightly with Harry slamming his hand over Draco's lips to shut him up, it should not have been arousing, however it totally was as Draco watched harry trying to look behind Draco's head between the books to find if someone was coming their way.

"don't speak a word. Someone is here " harry Whispered In Draco's ear. It ran down a shiver over his back as he felt Harry's hand upon his waist and over his lips, catching him between his body and the shelf, and Draco only wondered how many times he'd like for that to happen..

" screw it " Draco didn't know he had said when Harry had momentarily taken his hands over his lips but he had

" screw what ?" Harry asked bemused

Draco looked over at harry's face desperately close to his own and without wasting so much of a second, Draco pulled harry closer by his sweater, slamming their lips together.

" screw secrecy" Draco mumbled against his lips, biting Harry's lips in desperation.

" what about everyone ?" Harry asked as he held onto Draco's waist to keep himself from collapsing, breaking away the kiss for a second

" I want to kiss you on top of the Eiffel tower and if the world watches, they can enjoy the show while it lasts " draco replied as he bored into Harry's eyes, filled with strange desire.

Harry chuckled before he pressed Draco further into the shelf, kissing the daylights out of him as though it was the last time he'd ever kiss him but as they say, make the first and the last's count, it was their first public display of affection and the world could watch the show while it lasted because In the end, it was them who ruled their world.

The 50 day physical touch prompt challenge ends as of today and I've been incredibly thankful for all the support. I've been writing for as long as I can remember but to feel this appreciated and noticed, I never thought I'd feel this way one day. When I even began writing these, it was so random that I wasn't even sure if anyone was going to read it, I didn't believe it until you people did and have remained from the beginning till the end. Ofc I'm not stopping writing prompts, I just had to be dramatic.

Here's to people who've remained with me since almost the beginning ( ignore the tags) - @thebusyfangirl @textrovert-01 @drarry-is-my-therapy @drarrycookie @cissa-bee @weirdvibeskid @kpoper13things @delphic04 @elenaxoxo22 @gnomiess @littlebodybigheartttt @drarrywords @dearly-devoted-dawdler @draco-lucious-potter @leeemon22 @scram1326 @km-shtworldstuff @goodluckandwaffles @knduniverse @unsuspicious-nobody @curious-fruitcake @mlundin8 @nin0tchka @smallfoy-drarry @kattarcherlife @hey-its-asp @saumzi @railmeharrypotter @havingaverydrarryday @hufflepuffheroine @sunflowerishdolphin @thecornerofbelu @iamactuallya-cat @lilthislilthat @harrypotterjelly

Dialogue prompt requests open

Day 49- 5 times Harry was a pain in the ass

#drarry prompt #drarry #drarry drabbles #drarry drabble challenge #drarry fluff #drarry fic rec #drarry ficlets #drarry fandom #drarry ficlet #drarry ao3 #drarry ask #drarry au #drarry stuff #drarry ship #harry x draco #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fic #harry potter fic

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sunfish-studies · 3 years

Text

Pen and Paper

✄・・・ Crisp Leaves [Aoba Johsai Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Aoba Johsai x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: I wonder if crackhead-ness of this team could be considered as a warning? Temporary mute reader.

➜ Notes: Manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm.

↷ SUMMARY ↶

People need to watch what they say because it will sometimes bite them back the least they expected–leaving a damage worth hundred times more.

If Oikawa wasn’t having the best mood, then everyone expected mutiny like this happened–him channeling all of his frustration in his jump serves. Not just one, not just two, the whole trolley of volleyball will be finished by him alone–and still not enough.

It was pure raw strength–the ball ricochet and the loud sound it produced once it slammed to the ground was no joke. The first years and second years was hesitant to remind him not to push himself too much, somehow knowing if they did that they will feel the spare of his wrath.

Only third years and the coach could throw hands in this matter.

Practice was over almost an hour ago and Oikawa wouldn’t be stopping soon. Iwaizumi was gripping the ball in his hands a little too tight–signaling that he was indeed in the brink of exploding himself. Maybe around the next minute there will be chaos.

“Tooru, practice is over. We need to go home,” that’s where [Name]’s duty lies. As a manager, it was necessary for her to take care of the members and remind them not to overwork.

Being ignored by the said brunette was expected–this happened countless of times back in their middle school days and somehow didn’t change. She hoped to evade violence as much as she could, especially when Iwaizumi doesn’t use words and proceeded to punch the lights out of Oikawa instead.

“Tooru, your knee is injured,” she said again. “The doctor said about not putting too much pressure on it. It’s time to stop.”

The third time’s the charm, she prayed. Sighing harshly from the lack of respond and on-going rebellion forced her to grabbed onto Oikawa’s arm. “Tooru-“

“Can’t you just shut up for once!?” he yanked his arm away with a harsh bat. Facing her with pure anger apparent on his face was something usual–however, it still brought her shoulders tensed up from the pure fury shone from those brown eyes. “Shut up and leave me alone! Isn’t that simple enough to do!?”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi already growled with the same intensity of anger, marching towards the two as he rolled his sleeve. There will be unavoidable fist fight and then more problem will ensue.

“Stop it, Hajime,” [Name] stated sternly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “If you two got into fight, you’ll be banned from practice for the whole week. Coach made it extremely clear about fighting between teammates.”

She wasn’t even joking about it and both Oikawa and Iwaizumi knew, which was why with a click of his tongue the brunette began gathering the balls in fast pace. After he finished tidying up, he went straight towards the exit–slamming the door shut.

“He needs to cool down for some time,” [Name] remarked, loud enough to be heard by the whole members left behind. “So, just leave him alone for now. Until he decides to talk like he used to, let him be.”

“Y-yes, senpai…”

✎ . . . .

“WHAT!?” and the first minute of practice started with an unexpected chaos from the most least person who’s likely did so. The whole team instantly had their attention zeroed on their assistant coach, Coach Mizoguchi. Not only that, Coach Irihata had his eyes widened in disbelief. In front of the two was their manager standing.

“Do you need a break?” the older man questioned, eyes radiating worry. The reply he got was a head shook from their manager. There was pregnant silence before the coach continued. “Are you sure? Isn’t it the best to get some rest?”

A head shook became an answer, which made Coach Irihata sighed in defeat–probably relenting on her insistence on something. “Alright, but if you’re not feeling well somehow just tell me and you’re excused to go home.”

“Everyone, gather around!” Coach Mizoguchi called out, and automatically they left their activities behind to line up in front of their coaches and manager. Once the man studied all of them to made sure they were all gathered, he started with a sigh. “We have an unfortunate thing happens.”

“Your manager can’t speak at the moment,” Coach Irihata didn’t want to beat around the bush and decided to straight up telling the whole team the truth.

“Uhm, what do you mean Coach…?” Iwaizumi asked slowly, trying to comprehend the statement from before.

“Apparently, your manager lost her voice.” The older man repeated. “And for the time being, she will communicate with all of you using her notebook.”

There was silence that befall the gym for a few minutes before chaos ensued.

“WHAT!?”

“How did that happen!?”

“Are you okay, Otohaku-senpai!?”

“But that doesn’t mean she’s not participating in practice or anything, she will do her work as usual.” Coach Irihata continued, his words successfully got the team’s shrieks of disbelief under control. “That’s why, if I found out that somehow you’re troubling your manager, there will be drills to compensate. Do I make myself clear?”

Series of gulps could be heard from the subtle threat looming over. “U-Understood, Coach…”

“Now, dismiss!”

✎ . . . .

“Oi, are you sure you’re okay?” Iwaizumi was the first one to ask, however he was followed by the others almost immediately once the coach told them that it’s break time. Giving them already-filled water bottles was [Name]’s duty, and he thought it was a great time to begin questioning. “Shouldn’t you be home and getting bed rest of something?”

After handing the Ace his bottle, [Name] automatically reached out for the notebook in her jacket pocket. Opening an empty page, she began scribbling for some time then shoving the object onto Iwaizumi’s face.

‘I’m fine. There’s no fever or anything. In fact, I feel normal besides losing my ability to speak.’

“Do you have a doctor’s appointment for this?” Matsukawa questioned next.

‘My mom already arranged one. Maybe we’ll go a day after tomorrow.’

“S-senpai,” this time, it was Kindaichi. “D-do you maybe do something or eat something that could possibly led to this?’

[Name] hummed soundlessly, contemplating about her junior’s words before she’s back to writing. ‘Nothing in particular. I had dinner like usual, finishing my homework, and sleep normally. Just after I woke up, I realized I couldn’t reply to my mom calling from downstairs.’

“Are you sure you’re alright, senpai?” Watari asked in concern. “Maybe you really should take a short break like the coach suggested…”

‘I’m fine, Watari-kun. This doesn’t hinder my work at all. On the good side, you don’t need to hear my annoying voice-‘

“DON’T SAY THAT!!”

Oikawa’s voice suddenly booming across the gym–startling all of them in the process. Pairs of eyes focused on him and his abruptness.

“I-We love your voice, [Nickname]-chan!” the brunette stated. “You always cheered on us, taking care of us, helping us in team meetings! I know it’s my fault because I told you to shut up, it’s just my anger speaking! I didn’t mean any of those words!”

“Ah, so in the end, it’s your fault,” Iwaizumi smiling, however the aura oozing from his figure was anything but nice. He was out for blood–and the grip he had on the water bottle was borderline dangerous it could break the object.

“I-I didn’t mean to, I swear!” Oikawa shrieked, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry!”

The vice-captain was absolutely ready to give their captain a good beating, fortunately, a notebook shoved onto Oikawa’s face came to save his day (and probably his life). Holding onto the book carefully, he read every single word written on the surface of the paper.

‘It’s not your fault, Tooru. Sometimes, anger blinds us. I know you don’t mean it, so it’s alright. You have a rough day too, right?’

“[Nickname]-chan!!” in return, he jumped onto their manager–giving her a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder. She sighed soundlessly at his childish antic but still returning the gesture by patting his back gently.

“So, it’s because of what happened yesterday?” Kunimi concluded. “Could this be karma for Oikawa-san?’

Hanamaki laughed. “You can count it that way.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Extra [The Next Day]

“Good morning, everyone!”

“OTOHAKU-SENPAI!!”

“Yahaba-san, you’re crying…”

“Let him be, Kunimi. We’re all worried about her, aren’t we?”

“Issei, where do you put the bibs away?”

“Oh, it’s in the box next to the poles. I moved it.”

“[NICKNAME]-CHAN!!!”

“Stop clinging onto our manager, Shittykawa!”

Ah, yes, finally another normal day in practice.

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dlwritings · 3 years

Text

Casual | Tom Holland

masterlist found here

pairing - frat boy!Tom x reader word count - 1,917 warnings - language A/N - for the anon who requested x

summary - You and Tom are casually seeing each other, but you want it to be more. When Valentine’s Day comes around, you’re struck by how you can share a bed with someone and still be so lonely.

Tom fell onto the bed beside you with a huff. You rested your hands on your stomach and worked on catching your breath. Your body was covered in sweat, and at this point you couldn’t tell if it was yours or Tom’s. You looked over at him as he pushed himself out of bed and tugged his boxers up his legs.

You and Tom had been doing this dance for a while now. You met in one of your classes and clicked instantly. You would go out for drinks from time to time, but most of your time together was spent in bed. It was hard to have any fun when your roommate was over, but Tom was part of a frat, so he had a room to himself. This weekend, your roommate was visiting her hometown, so you and Tom decided to take advantage of her absence.

“So,” you said, watching as he pulled on his jeans, “Valentine’s Day’s on Saturday.”

“Is it?” Tom said, zipping up his bottoms. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting up a bit and holding the sheet to your chest. “You have any plans?”

“Well the guys always throw a bachelors’ rager, so that’s probably what I’ll be doing,” he said. Your heart dropped a little, but you did your best to maintain a poker face.

“Would you want to -I don’t know- hang out maybe?” you said. “Maybe we could get dinner or something.” Tom sighed and pulled his shirt over his head.

“Why?” he asked.

“What do you mean why?” you said. “Because it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Valentine’s Day is a bullshit holiday some sad couple invented to spice up their love life,” he said. “Besides, we’re not even together.”

“Well, not technically,” you said, “but, I mean, you’re the only guy I’m seeing right now, and I don’t think you’re sleeping with anyone else-”

“How do you know I’m not sleeping with anyone else?” he snapped. At this, your expression shifted.

“Are you?” you asked.

“So what if I am?” he asked. “We never said this was serious or exclusive.”

“I know, I know,” you said. “I just thought-”

“I’ve never given you the implication that I want this to be anything more than the occasional fuck,” he said. “If you read into it more, that’s on you.”

“Tom, relax,” you said, trying to fight back tears. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” You didn’t want him to see how hurt you were by what he was saying, but deep down you knew he was right. You never established this relationship as anything serious. You were the one who fell for him.

“If you’re making this thing we have to be something more,” he said, “then maybe we should stop.”

“No, Tom,” you said. “That’s not what I want.”

“Whatever,” he said, grabbing his hoodie and shoes. He didn’t stop to put them on before walking towards the door. “I’m done.”

“Done?” you repeated. “Done with what?”

“I’m just done talking about this,” he said. “I’ll text you later, alright?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, hanging your head. “Alright.” You heard the door close as you squeezed your eyes shut. Still, some tears managed to escape as you let out a quiet sniff.

Tom was right. The way that you were feeling was on you. If you had just accepted this for what it was, you wouldn’t have been so hurt. But no. You had to catch feelings. So what could you do? Keep sleeping with him and pushing down how you felt? Cut him off completely?

You chose the ladder.

You had your fight on Monday, and he texted you already on Tuesday. You ignored it. You ignored every text he sent to your phone and the two times he tried to call you. The second time, he left a message. You didn’t listen to the voicemail, but you didn’t have it in you to delete it. You kept the little red notification, just in case you changed your mind.

All week, you saw couples everywhere on campus. It was like they had multiplied overnight. They were cuddled up at the library, holding hands around campus, making out in the dorm hallways. They were everywhere. It hurt seeing them, knowing you couldn’t have that with the one person you wanted it with. Sure, you knew there were other fish in the sea, but there was only one Tom, and unfortunately, that was who your heart wanted.

On Friday, your roommate left yet again for another weekend at home. You collapsed on your bed, flicking through Netflix while inhaling a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Once you settled on an episode of Schitt’s Creek, you picked up your phone and stared at that red notification again. After a few moments of contemplating, you finally clicked it.

“Hey (Y/N),” Tom’s voice said through your phone. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened the other day. I know I came off like a dick, and I didn’t mean to. Could you just text me? I just-” He sighed. “I just want to know that you’re okay. I know we’re not official or whatever, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” He sighed again, and you could picture him running a hand through his hair. “Okay, I guess that’s it. Please text me, alright? I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.”

You stared at your phone with tears in your eyes before playing the message again. You didn’t want to text him, but you could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Deep down, Tom was a good guy. Again, it wasn’t his fault you were feeling this way. He never led you on. The relationship was what it was. He had always been up front about that.

You opened your messages and clicked on the thread you had with Tom, then typed a simple message: I’m fine

It may not’ve been the whole truth, but it was what he wanted to hear. That much you knew. Tom was a pretty easy guy to figure out. After all this time spent with him, you could read him like a book.

What you didn’t know was that Tom could read you just as well. He knew he fucked up when he so harshly rejected your Valentine’s offer. He just didn’t know how to deal with the fact that he had fallen for you.

Yes. He was a walking cliche.

But unlike his stereotypical counterparts, Tom was going to do something to fix his mistake. He wasn’t going to wait for the two of you to get into an even bigger fight or for you to burst into tears in front of him. No. He’d nip this in the bud.

When Saturday came around, you had an evening shift at the library where you worked. You spent the morning in bed watching Hannah Montana on Disney+ to distract yourself from the day. You were the only one on the evening shift, so you spent those hours alone, save a few patrons. You assumed the people who came in were all single like you with nothing better to do on Valentine’s Day than sit in a corner and work on homework or shove their nose in a new paperback.

When you clocked out, you drove home in silence, not bothering to turn on the radio. You knew you’d inevitably hear cheesy love songs, and you weren’t in the mood for that. Your dorm was pretty quiet, which didn’t surprise you. Most of the people in your hall had significant others. Honestly, you were glad you didn’t see more couples hiding in the halls with their tongues down each other’s throats. You fumbled for your keys and tried to unlock your dorm room only to find it was already unlocked, which didn’t make any sense. You always, always locked the door behind you. Still, you didn’t have it in you to be bothered. You opened the door but quickly froze.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?”

Sitting on your bed was Tom surrounded by tiny boxes of Chinese takeout. He jumped off the bed as soon as you walked in and approached you. You stopped in the hallway to kick your shoes off. “I’m here to apologize,” he said, “and to spend Valentine’s night with you.”

“Why?” you snapped. “Because you feel bad?”

“Yes,” he said. Quickly he added, “But no. It’s more than that. I-” He was stuttering, so he took a deep breath to collect himself. “I like you, (Y/N).”

“Don’t,” you said, not hesitating for a second but noticing your voice crack. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he asked.

“Lie to me,” you whispered. “I don't need your pity, Tom. I don’t want it.”

“My pity?”

“Obviously you’ve figured out by now that I’m crazy about you,” you said, “and now you feel bad, so you’re trying-”

He cut you off by taking a step towards, grabbing your cheeks, and pressing his lips to yours.

You pushed him back.

“Quit it!” you huffed.

“What?” he said. “What am I doing wrong?”

“I told you, I don’t want-”

“Damn it, (Y/N), would you just listen to me?” he said. When you didn’t immediately snap back, he sighed. “I’m, I really, really like you. I like spending time with you, but not just fucking you. I like how you scrunch your nose and purse your lips when you’re studying, and then do that thing with your pencil. Hold it there like a mustache, you know?” You pressed your lips together to keep from smiling, which made him grin. “And I like talking to you about things. About music and movies and books and, and family. You know you’re the only person I tell my family problems to? Not even Harrison hears them. Only you, because you’re the only person who, who, I don’t know, (Y/N). You listen to me, and you always try and help me see things from every perspective. You don’t just automatically side with me. You’re not afraid to call me out on my shit, and I, I love that about you. And I love how smart you are. You always challenge me to think harder and try harder. You make me into a better person. I don’t just love you, I love who I am when I’m with you.”

Your eyes grew wide at his words, and Tom furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” he asked. “What’d I say wrong?”

“You said you love me,” you whispered. Tom’s cheeks heated up, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Did I?” he asked. You nodded, and he did the same. When he noticed you were smiling, he smiled too. “Well do you believe me then?” he asked. “You don’t think I’m making this up anymore? You believe I love you? Because I do.” You bit your lip and nodded again.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I believe you, Tommy.” He smiled and put his hand on your cheek.

“Are you gonna yell at me if I kiss you again?” he asked.

You giggled. “No. I won’t.”

“Good,” he whispered. You smiled as he leaned closer and brushed his nose against yours before closing the gap between you in a kiss. Before it could get too heated, Tom pulled away. “Okay,” he said. “I brought Chinese food and some chick flicks you’ve talked about. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Tommy.”

----- ----- ----- -----

add yourself to my TAGLIST

strike-through means Tumblr won’t let me tag you

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #angst #fluff #marvel #request

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glassartpeasants · 4 years

Text

Distraction

Shigaraki x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff and death

A/N: For the sake of the story you are from a different country other then Japan. I finaly had the damn inspration to finish this. I’m gonna do another one after this, the only reason im posting this is because it was already 2/3 done. No lie though i kinda hate it :/

~~~

“Tomura.” You said in your annoyed voice. Ever since he got that fucking game, he’s been playing it nonstop and has completely ignored you existence.

“Tomura I love you .” Nothing.

“Tomura I’m pregnant.” Nothing.

“I’m breaking up with you.” Still nothing. You weren’t actually gonna break up with him but you wanted at least for him to look in your direction.

You let out a huff and crossed your arms. You were starting to get angry. And thats fair!

You sit up from your spot on the bed and put on socks and shoes before walking out of his room.

“Miss (y/n), you seem to be frustrated right now. Is it Shigaraki Tomura?” Kurogiri spoke as you sat at the bar contemplating your life choices.

“Ever since he got that dumbass game he’s been ignoring me Kurogiri! He got that game a week ago and has only left his room for food, water and to go to the bathroom. I want to burn the damn thing. He hasn’t even talked to me in 3 days! Not a single peep.” You said anger in your voice but a bit of pain was also noticeable.

“I see. Well in my opinion...get back at him.”

“You mean ignore him like he’s been ignoring me?”

“Preciously.”

“I like the way you think Kurogiri.” And with that you left the hideout.

~~~

You sat on your bed in your own apartment with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in your hand as you watched cooking shows, wishing you could do the same thing.

And then that’s when your phone rang.

You immediately thought it was Shigaraki but only sighed when it was your mother. You put down your sandwich, paused your show and picked up the phone.

“Hey mom, what ya need?”

“I need you to come home.”

“What why?”

“It’s your grandma..” You let out a gasp in shock. Your grandma wasn’t doing well after your grandfather died. She always seemed to be in and out of the hospital. You felt tears prickle the corner of your eyes as you held a hand over your mouth.

“She’s super sick and the doctors think she’s not going to make it much longer. For the sake of seeing her on last time please come home.”

“Of course! I’ll start packing right away!”

“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you too.” And with that you hung up the phone and started packing immediately. You grabbed your suitcases off of your closet shelf and begun frantically putting in clothes and other things.

You opened your computer and booked the next flight to (random country). The flight was going to be in 2 days so you had to make sure everything was ready in that amount of time. The agonizing fear of something happening to your grandma made you forget all about Shigaraki.

~~~

The day of the flight

You look at your phone as you sit at the airport, waiting for you plane to be seated.

“All people going to (random country please start boarding the plane.” You shot up from your seat and immediately walked over towards the boarding area.

Still completely forgetting to tell shigaraki.

~~~

4 days after you left

Shigaraki sighed as the screen turned a colorful hue with the words your won on the screen. After 2 and a half weeks of gruesome playing he finally beat the game.

“Hey (y/n) I finally-” He turned around to look for you so he could tell you his achievement, only to find you were no where in sight.

“-beat it?” He shot up from his chair and walked into the bar his head snapping from left to right in hopes of finding you.

“She’s not here Shigaraki Tomura. She hasn’t been here for about a week.” Kurogiri said as he polished his glasses.

“What do you mean she hasn’t been here in a week?”

“Well considering you were ignoring her for that game you got, my best guess is that she’s at home.” Shigaraki felt anxiety creep up and worry also consuming his body. What if you realized you were way out of his league and dumped him. He only sighed as he grabbed his sweatshirt and made his way over to your house.

~~~

The weather was slowly getting worse and worse by the minute. He oh so wished he would have checked it before going outside considering he was now drenched from the pounding rain.

He let out at sigh of relief once he saw your car in the driveway of your home. At least you would be there so he could apologize.

He went up to your door and did the secret knock you both had for each other.

Nothing. He did it again.

Nothing.

Shigaraki started to tremble a bit as he took the key fro under your place mat and opened the door only to see no signs of you being there.

He looked high and low trying to find you with no success. He finally went to your room to find almost all of your clothes gone your bed unmade, and a single piece of paper on your nightstand.

He grabbed said paper with two finger only to feel his heart drop right out of his chest.

‘Leave at 9am tomorrow for (random country)’

So you really did leave him huh? Shigaraki dug his phone out of his pocket and went to call you only to realize that you had shut your phone off. His hands shook as all his fingers touched the phone causing it to crack and decay.

“She’ll be back! It’ll be okay Shigaraki..” Shigaraki told himself as he hugged himself falling to his knees silently prayed you would come back and not leave him all alone.

~~~

The days went by as you sat by your grandma holding her hand as you teared up.

“No need to cry (y/n), I’ll be okay.” Your grandma said to you smiling weakly. You put her hand to your forehead and just held it there.

You couldn’t help the tears streaming down your eyes as you saw them fall to the ground.

“Do you have someone you love (y/n)?” Her question startled you as your tear stained eyes look at her.

“I remember your mother talking to me about a guy you met who you said you were absolutely in love with. But you haven’t spoken a word about him since you came here.” You never told your mother Shigaraki’s name but you did tell her how madly in love with him.

“We’re having some issues right now... but lets not talk about that. Lets try to focus on happy things.”

“Sweetie, things happen. Everything will turn out alright i promise.” You looked at her through tear stained eyes as you held her hand a bit tighter.

Thats when you heard the beeping.

You look up at the heart monitor and saw the flat-line. You started crying profusely as you were taken out of the room while they tried to get her heart back up. But it was too late.

You cried out to your grandma before being taken by the hand by your mother and pulled into a constricting hug causing you to let out more tears.

~~~

You stayed at your home country for another week before setting off to Japan again. You wanted to stay longer but the pain you felt in your chest was too painful to stay there as everything reminded you of her.

~~~

You open you apartment door and close it with a sigh only to see that your apartment was completely trashed.

“WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK!” First your grandma died and now your house was robbed?

You were shaking in anger and sadness as you fell to your knees, hugging yourself for comfort as you saw your tears making a little wet spot on the carpet below.

You take out your phone to call your friend only to see a number you haven’t seen in awhile.

Tomu <3

Your eyes widen as you look at his number realizing he had been trying to contact you almost ever since you left a month ago. You slap yourself remembering that you haven’t even texted him that whole time cause you were to focused on your grandma that you completely forgot about him.

You felt terrible.

“Oh my god! I haven’t even tried to text or call him! Oh no my poor Tomu...” Which only gave you another reason to cry.

You picked up the phone and pressed his contact to start a call. Your shaky hands holding the phone to your ear waiting to be cussed out and waiting to be dumped. It was only fair. You left for a month and never even told him where you were going.

Almost in a instant the phone was picked up and on the other side you heard hiccuping and a watery voice.

“(Y/N)...is that you?” His gravely voice asked.

“Im so sorry for not contacting you! I-” Before you could finish a purple warp gate showed up in your apartment right in front of you before shigaraki jumped out and tackled you to the ground. The warp gate closing behind him.

Shigaraki grabbed your face leaving dozens of kisses of your tear stained cheeks before hugging you. Bringing you close to his chest as he snuggled his face in your shoulder crying into it.

“I thought y-you left m-me...” He sobbed into your shoulder. You hug him back running your hand over his shaking figure.

“I’m so sorry baby...I..My grandmother died and i turned off my phone so i could focus on her. I should have told you. I was just so worried and...” You cried, both of you hugging one another as if your life depended on it.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you when i got my game...” He whispered as he peppered your neck in kisses.

“Im sorry for not telling you.” You sighed peacefully as you ran your hands through his hair as you try to calm him.

“Just please don’t leave me again...I don’t think i could handle it...”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

#tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #mha #bnha #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #mha tomura #mha shigaraki #mha angst #bnha angst #shigaraki angst

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mikrowrites · 3 years

Text

knocking on heaven’s door

winchester!sister , sam x sister!reader , surprise jack kline x winchester!reader

SPN SEASON 15 FINALE SPOILERS!!!

summary: Dean’s gone, and Sam doesn’t know how to tell their sister, who stayed home at the bunker during the hunt.

warnings: ANGST, major character death, fluff flashbacks, grief

Y/N walked down the bunker steps, Miracle ahead of her and pulling on his leash. She unclipped the lead, watching the dog run happily to the kitchen with a smile.

Suddenly her phone began to ring in her back pocket, Y/N reaching for it and identifying the contact name “Dean-o”. She grinned, answering the call. “Hey big bro.”

“Hey little sis.” Dean replied. Y/N walked over and sat in one of the chairs in the library, putting the phone on speaker and setting it on the wood.

“How’s the hunt?” She asked.

Dean sighed. “It’s going. We’re outside a vamp nest right now. I think we’ll be home in time for lunch tomorrow.”

“So is that a hint for me to cook?” Y/N raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled through the phone. “You do make the best homemade pizza.”

Y/N hummed. “Damn right I do. Okay, okay. There’ll be deep dish waiting.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Dean was silent a moment. “How’s the college search?”

She pursed her lips, looking at the open laptop on the table with an application pulled up. Since the world was out of immediate danger and the Winchesters now had control of their lives, Y/N had decided she wanted to finish college, do something. “I’m thinking Kansas State. Close to home, so I can see you guys often.”

“I’m proud of you, kiddo.” Dean responded. “When we get back after some pizza we’ll go get drinks, you and I. Celebrate.”

Y/N smiled. “Can’t wait.”

“Well, Sammy’s being impatient and we’ve gotta rescue some kids. I’ll call you after the hunt.” He chuckled into the receiver.

“Okay. Be careful! Love ya, big bro!” Y/N cheerily answered.

Dean smiled, shaking his head. “Back ‘atcha, kid.”

The line went dead.

—

Jack held his palm up in a farewell gesture, smiling at the three Winchesters.

“Goodbye.”

He then turned, and began to walk away. Sam and Dean watched, upset but understanding of the boy’s decision.

Y/N, however, pushed past her brothers, running forwards towards the nephilim. “Jack! Wait!”

Jack stopped, turning and looking at Y/N questioningly. “Yes, Y/N?”

She exhaled shakily, stepping up to him so they were inches away. “Will you listen to my prayers? At least mine?”

The boy smiled. “You can talk to me anytime. I’ll be with you.”

Y/N nodded, stepping back for a moment. Then, after either building her courage up or contemplating (maybe both), she approached Jack once more, grasping both sides of his face in her hands as she kissed him, the boy letting out a noise of shock before melting into her.

After a few seconds they pulled away, resting their foreheads against each other’s, before Jack squeezed Y/N’s hand in reassurance.

With that, Jack turned and walked away, glowing with a bright light until he disappeared. Y/N exhaled, closing her eyes momentarily before turning back and looking at her brothers. She walked back over to them, Sam casting her a smile and look of pity, but Dean squeezed her shoulder.

Y/N looked up at her eldest brother, who pulled her into an embrace. The man chuckled, rubbing her back comfortingly with his hand. “You had the privilege of loving him. That’s a gift.”

She nodded her head, burying her face in his jacket. “Thank you.”

—

Y/N paced through the war room, biting her fingernail. She sent another text, her heart beating in her chest. It was 4 am, and Dean hadn’t called back.

Called: Dean-o (47) DECLINED

To Dean-o: How’d the hunt go?

To Dean-o: Dean?

To Dean-o: Hello?

To Dean-o: Please call me you’re scaring me

To Dean-o: Dean please

Suddenly the creak of the bunker door echoed through the room, Y/N’s head snapping up, the girl sighing in relief. “Jesus, Sam. Dean wouldn’t pick up his phone.”

The tall man walked silently down the stairs, Y/N shaking her head in disbelief and looked up at the door, waiting for Dean to appear. She rolled her eyes. “No need to hide, asshole. You just got your pizza privileges revoked, though.”

Sam silently walked up to the girl, who finally turned to him, laughing a bit. “Over-dramatic as always.” He looked down at his sister, tears threatening to escape once more. He pitied how he was about to upheave her whole life, destroy the happiness the family momentarily had. Y/N peered up at Sam quizzically. “What?”

Sam hastily closed the distance, pulling Y/N in for a hug, holding her tight as his whole body trembled. The girl hesitantly wrapped her arms around him, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

He continued to embrace his sister, who lightly tapped his back with her palm. “Sam?”

“He’s gone.”

Y/N felt the breath being sucked from her lungs, as if her heart had just stopped beating right then and there. “Who’s gone? Sam...?”

Sam tightened his hold on Y/N. “He’s... I’m sorry... Dean’s...”

She pushed him away shaking her head. “No, no, you are not saying Dean Winchester is dead. You’re joking. No way. Our brother is fine. He’s just avoiding me and—”

“Y/N.” Sam pleaded. “I’m sorry.”

Tears began to well up in her eyes, Y/N running her hands through her hair. “You’re lying. You’re a liar!”

Sam attempted to reach out to comfort her, but Y/N took a step back. She met his eyes, a tear trailing down her face. “You—!” Y/N suddenly lashed out, throwing weak punches at Sam’s chest, shoving him back. She cried out with every punch, the tears beginning to waterfall down her cheeks.

The tall brunette took every hit, every shove, every curse for a while until Sam gently grasped both her wrists, spinning her and wrapping his arms around her from behind, holding her back against his chest. Y/N thrashed in Sam’s grip, screaming obscenities as she sobbed.

After a few minutes she let her body go limp in his hold, her mouth opening as if to scream, but only a raspy whimper escaped her throat. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, hanging her head low as Sam held her tighter, resting his forehead on her shoulder from behind.

The bunker echoed with her soft cries, the two Winchesters mourning an incurable loss.

—

Y/N closed one of her eyes, biting her lip in concentration before she let the tip of her cue hit the ball, Dean letting out a low whistle. “Damn, kid. You play a mean game of pool.”

“Well, you know. Training meant many different skills to Bobby. How to shoot a gun, wardings, kicking ass at pool.” Y/N mused, reaching a plucking the $20 bill off the edge of the table and pocketing it.

Dean took a swig from his beer, nodding. “Well, those three check out.”

Y/N blushed at the compliment, Dean sitting at an empty table in the bar, gesturing for her to sit across from him. Sam was resting at the motel while Dean and Y/N decided to celebrate another successful hunt. The girl grabbed her own drink and sat down.

“Nice work today, kiddo. You saved our asses out there.” Dean tipped the neck of his beer forward in a toast, Y/N clinking her drink against the glass of his. They took a drink, the girl shaking her head.

“Anytime.” She smiled.

Dean sat forwards. “Y’know, only if you want to, but um, Sammy and I wouldn’t mind another person helping us out on hunts. If you wanted to, I mean, you don’t have to, but if you wanted to—”

“Dean.” Y/N interrupted his rambling, grinning. “I’d love to.”

The man smiled at his little sister, nodded. “Great. Awesome.”

Y/N nodded, smiling back and taking another drink before standing and grabbing her cue. “Another round? I’ll bet fifty on this one.”

Dean shook his head in amusement, smiling and joining her at the pool table.

He had failed one of his half-siblings in the past. Dean swore he’d never do it to her.

—

Y/N sat on her bed, gripping her phone in a white-knuckle grip. She stared blankly down at the photo on her phone, it was a photo taken from that night at the bar. Y/N and Dean stood side by side in front of the pool table, smiling wide. Dean held his beer bottle in his hand, his other arm wrapped over Y/N’s shoulders.

It had been a week. One torturous week since they burned his body, since they said goodbye.

She sniffed, before laying the phone down on the bed, straightening her back and raising her vision forwards. Y/N inhaled, her eyes steady and red-rimmed.

Y/N closed her eyes slowly.

“Jack?”

The room was silent, Y/N opening her mouth once more.

“You said you’d listen to my prayers. You’d always be with me.” She exhaled softly. “I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care if I take his place, if I go to hell, if I suffer, fine. But please. Please Jack, bring him back. Bring Dean back. Do something.”

“You can’t just let this happen. Bring him back. I know you can, so just please, do it. I can’t... I can’t live without him. I can’t live without my big brother. Just bring him back. If you ever loved me, prove it and bring Dean back.”

Y/N sat in deafening silence, before opening her eyes, fresh tears gathering as she stared forwards. “Please.”

Silence. Nothing.

The girl shakily sighed, lowering her head.

A knock at the door brought her head jolting up, only to feel as though deflating at the sight of Sam. “Hey.” He softly spoke. “Donna has a case. I... I think we should go.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, looking for something to say, but opting to step away and head for the library when coming up with nothing. Y/N looked around her room, before grabbing her duffle.

She could read Sam like a book. He didn’t plan on coming back to the bunker after this hunt.

Y/N packed her duffle, leaving only the things she knew she wouldn’t miss. She smiled as she pulled polaroids of her and her brothers off her wall, stashing them into her bag.

She met Sam up at the top of the bunker stairs, looking out at the place she and her brothers had called home. Y/N let one last prayer be recited in her head before turning to her brother. “Let’s go.”

The lights shut off one by one, engulfing the bunker in darkness.

#supernatural x reader #supernatural imagines #supernatural imagine #supernatural reader insert #spn x reader #spn imagines #spn imagine #spn reader insert #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #winchester!sister #winchester!reader #spn 15 x reader #spn s15 spoilers

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vibraniumwing · 4 years

Text

better with you.

a neville longbottom x reader wherein you’ve never really felt like yourself until you met this shy, dorky boy who was fond of herbology

WARNING: none, just pure fluff. a bit of a slow burn too uwu

A/N: used she/her pronouns for this one. this is the first story i’m writing for the hp fandom, please be nice o n o

---

You were currently situated in the library, finishing a book you’ve recently found an interest in. Your fingers playing with the edge of the page as your temple was situated by your palm, the ambiance of the library bringing you solace; hushed conversations, page turning and the sound of someone’s quills on the surface of the parchment. It was all so calming.

“Oh look, it’s snowing!” you heard someone call out, causing you to look to your side to see that it was indeed, snowing. Now resting your chin on your palm, your attention shifted to the small snowflakes accumulating by the window, watching it form a small pile.

The coldness of the weather reminded you of yourself. You were infamous for being the Ice Princess of Hufflepuff, the ethereal beauty blessed by the gods yet a heart of stone. You were cold, distant and by all means, someone who wasn’t very sociable. So you being sorted in Hufflepuff was a true mystery to everyone.

Some say you should’ve been sorted into Slytherin.

A deep sigh resonated from your chest as you stood up, throwing on the dark coat that was resting on the seat next to you and grabbing your book, hugging it close to your chest.

Eyes were glued on you as you walked by, the hushed whispers now seemingly louder as you grew conscious due to the unsolicited attention you’re currently receiving.

You never wanted to be like this; raised in a strict pure-blooded family, molding you to become who you are as of the current. As the exact words of your mother, “You are a L/N. Take pride in that, see no one and talk to no one. You are to show no emotion at all.” It was a rough childhood. You were never allowed to go outside—not even to where your parents are going— and you were never exposed to affection from your mother and father, the closest thing you’ll get to that term was a simple head pat. That alone was another rare thing.

You were well-aware that you were never like this. Not even in the closest; the fear of disappointing them however, stood greater than anything else that mattered to you. So you had to accept that lifestyle, there was no other way.

The rest of the day flew by as normal, soon enough it was already dark out. You found yourself roaming around the halls, the patter of your shoes resounding in the halls. This was your daily ritual after dinner, to calm yourself before retreating to your house’s common room.

Just about to return, you heard a few laughs coming from the other end of the corner, your mind immediately protesting that you pay no attention and best be on your way— your gut on the other hand, pushed you to look at the commotion. Your legs started moving to their direction.

As you approached, you discovered that is was Malfoy and his two lapdogs meddling with what seems to be a Gryffindor student.

“What was his name again?” You mumbled to yourself, hiding against the corner just a few steps away from them. Mind raking to remember where you have heard his name, recalling the sudden memory of him fainting during your second year. Your eyes widen at the recollection and approached them with a feeling that you were not used to.

“Leave him alone, Malfoy.” You spoke up, your heartbeat’s pace starting to pick up as he turns around to look at you. Cocking an eyebrow at your direction, a scoff soon followed. “L/N? The infamous ice princess? Standing up for this little weasel?” his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The usage of the nickname caused you to roll your eyes, shaking your head once as you approached the poor boy, shoving them lightly as you stood in front of him protectively. You look back at them, crossing your arm as you looked up at them, now realizing that they tower over you. “Leave Longbottom alone, Draco.” You warned him once more, your eyes locking with his.

“Or what? Your little boyfriend’s a coward as it is!” He taunted even more, his signature smirk dawning his lips, eyeing the male behind you up and down. “Pathetic little thing can’t man up.”

“Oh please Malfoy, You’ll never be half the man that he is. Meddling in and messing up with people to make yourself feel accomplished in the eyes of your father. And you two—” pausing and looking at Crabbe and Goyle, with a disgusted look on your face. “can’t be anymore stupid by following this little leader of yours, I reckon. You three are a bunch of low-lives anyways.” You spat out, venom dripping from your voice; turning around, you offered your hand to the boy and pulled him off the ground.

Looking at them again, you retorted one last time. “If I ever catch you or even just hear about you messing with Longbottom again, I won’t hold myself back.” and pulled the Gryffindor along with you, leaving the three stunned at your words.

The both of you walked in silence, catching the eye of a few students who seemed to notice that your hand was still linked with his.

You stopped by the hallway near the Great Hall and looked back at your companion. “Are you all good...” You questioned, now realizing that you didn’t even know his first name. “...I-it’s Neville. And y-yes, i’m all good.” he spoke in a hushed tone, eyes looking downwards.

Only then did you realize you were still holding on to his hand. You immediately let go and a light shade of pink dusted your cheeks, coughing lightly to cover up your flustered state. “That’s good to hear. I’ll see you around.” You courtly say, turning around to walk away, heading over to the Grand Staircase to head off to your Common Room.

Leaving a rather surprised Neville all by himself.

---

“Are you sure that’s L/N you’re talking about, Nev?” Seamus asked from his bed, looking at his friend with a rather surprised expression. “Like the Ice Princess of Hufflepuff L/N?” Dean jumped into the conversation, the topic interesting him as well.

Neville was sure of what he saw, Merlin if he wasn’t so shocked he would’ve ran after her the moment she let him go. “Of course I am! I saw it with my own eyes, she even held my hand!” He answered, looking at the two, exasperated. Never in his life was he so sure of anything else.

“I have to agree with the two on this one. It just doesn’t sound like her, Neville.” Ron soon spoke up, looking at him as he munched on his candies.

Feeling defeated, he flopped back down on his bed and sighed. “I-I’ll prove it to you guys. I swear it was Y/N.” He retorted, opting not to argue with his dorm-mates anymore.

‘I swear I’ll show them that Y/N is more than what she shows.’

---

All of the students were down Hogsmeade, students frolicking around the village to drink some Butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks or just be out and about from the castle.

You rarely go with them, not wanting to socialize as it drains you more than anything else. This day was an exception though, as you were there to refill on parchment and ink since you’ve been running low on supply.

Your day flowed as normal as any other— with the exception that you had felt more people stare at you; not that you weren’t used to it or anything, something just felt off with the way they stare. As if the gossip had something else in it rather than the usual thing of “why is she in Hufflepuff.”

Walking along the snowy pavement of the place was rather peaceful for you, eyes wandering about on your schoolmates who were blabbering about their day and sharing their excitement to be away from the school. You’ve always longed for an interaction like that with your peers, but you tend to shy away and rather maintain the reputation they’ve crowned upon you.

Almost at the shop, a hand was placed on your shoulder making you jump slightly, causing you to slip against the icy, slippery surface. You shut your eyes as you prepared for the impact until you felt a warm breath fan out against your skin, a subtle scent of mint tickling your nose.

You open your eyes to meet a pair of beautiful brown eyes, your breath hitching at the sight. Your eye contact remained with the person until a sudden cough made it’s way out of you, only realizing that you’ve been holding your breath.

The both of you straightened up, now taking a better look at the person who saved your bottom from the rather cold pathway; cheeks suddenly flushed once recognizing who it was. “Neville?”

He was quiet, his whole face as the same color of his house, eyes still locked with yours.

Bringing up a hand, you waved it against his face gently to pull him out of his trance, to which he did. “O-oh. H-hello again, Y/N.” the boy greeted, showing you a rather shy smile.

You nodded at him once, unsure of how to react now that he was back to speaking. “I s-saw you walk alone around here... I was wondering if-” His voice suddenly getting really soft by the end of his sentence causing you to raise an eyebrow at him. “You have to speak louder, Longbottom. I’m not blessed with super hearing.” You told him, feeling the corner of your lips twinge up at the sight of him.

Neville cursed under his breath at his shyness, mentally cursing at how pathetic it was that he couldn’t speak in front of you.

Something stirred inside you again though, the same protective feeling washing over at the sight of him contemplating. “You can tell me. If it’s Malfoy bothering you again, tell me where he is. I’ve got a few hexes ready for him and his ugly warts of sidekicks.” You started off, crossing your arms.

The latter immediately shook his head (as much as he would love to see Draco get a piece of his own medicine, he doesn’t want you in harms way.)

“I-I w-was wondering if y-you’d like some company while you’re here.” He finally spat out, causing you to look at him in surprise. No one ever asked to go with you, so this was a definite first for you. Neville’s lips curved to a slight frown at the prolonged silence, thinking that your silence was rejection.

“A-alright, I’ll t-take that as a no. I-I’ll see you around, Y/N...” he mumbled, tone dripping of dejection. That’s when you snapped out of your trance, holding onto his wrist. “H-hey, I’d actually love to be in your company.” You told him, squeezing it gently.

He turned to look at you with a surprised look, eyes wide with his jaw slacked a bit that you actually accepted his offer. To which you answered with a very soft laugh, lips curved into a smile at how adorable he was. “You better close your mouth, love. You’ll be eating the snow like that.” You remarked, bringing your other hand up to close his jaw.

His eyes were trained on you, just now noticing the tinge of pink that dawned on your cheeks and how red your nose was from the cold, to which he found adorable. Flashing you a toothy grin, he straightened himself up and wiggled free from your grasp, his larger hands now engulfing your own.

Your quietly watched him, unable to find any remarks now he has seemingly stepped out of his shell. Stunned at how he took the initiative to hold your hand in the process. “Do you fancy some butterbeer perhaps? After you pick up what you need?” He asked, looking at you with a smile, his cheeks flushed immensely.

“S-sounds good to me, Nev.”

---

After that moment in Hogsmeade, you’ve been hanging out more with Neville, You’ve shown more emotion in the short span you’ve met him than your stay in Hogwarts, making everyone re-think of that title of yours.

You felt like yourself, you felt free with him around. It was the best feeling you’ve ever had.

It was a pleasant surprise for everyone when you suddenly appeared in the Great Hall with your hair free and not in the usual bun they’ve grown accustomed to.

While walking to your house’s table, you made eye contact with Neville, flashing him a bright smile, leaving the boy shy and his friends hitting him and calling him out on what he actually did with you.

“Blimey Neville, she seems better with you than how she ever did before.” Seamus called out, giving his friend a noogie in the process.

You rolled our eyes at the remark, a smile remaining on your lips as you reach your table.

Everything was going well when one of the people in your house asked, “Hey Y/N isn’t that your owl?” causing you to look up that your owl, indeed was flying towards you with a certain black envelope you know too well. The bird landed in front of you, letting go of the parchment and stares up at you.

You forced a smile, despite your heart dropping at the knowledge of what’s inside the letter; to which a certain boy noticed from afar. “Hello there, Peanut. Got a letter for me?” the barred owl blinked at you, as if he knew what was to come.

With a shaky hand, you opened the envelope and pulled the letter out. Your mother’s familiar handwriting greeting your vision as you read the letter.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you scrunched the letter up in your hands. You raced out of the hall, causing a few people to look your way as you bumped into people, vision blurred.

Neville saw all of it happen, how your expression went from happy to the most heartbreaking one he’s seen on anyone. He didn’t waste anymore time and chased after you, knowing exactly where to find you.

You were slumped by the furthest nook of the library as you were silently sobbing, thanking whatever higher power there is that there isn’t anyone around to see you at such a miserable state. However, you did hear the chair beside you move, causing you to look at the cause of the noise to see Neville.

“Now isn’t a good time to suggest Herbology books, Nev.” You humored, wiping your tears as you sent a tight-lipped smile his way. His heart was torn into pieces at the sight of you so shattered, he knew about your situation with your family and how you were forced to be someone you weren’t.

He shook his head, his hand reaching for your own and ran his thumb across your knuckles; the boy knew how much you love when he does that. Visibly, you relaxed and leaned into him. You rested your head on his shoulder and sobbed quietly, tears staining his shirt.

His arm protectively curled around your frame, cradling you as you just sobbed, quietly listening to the whispers of how you hated the fact that you were still so fearful of your parents— how you were still controlled by them.

You pulled away from his embrace, your eyes puffy from the crying. “N-Nev, I’m so-”

“Before you even finish that sentence, don’t. You don’t have to apologize for anything, love.” He crooned, bringing his hand to wipe your tears away. Loving the way how you leaned into his touch.

“It’s alright to be afraid, you know? You’re still a human, darling. Sometimes, people get tired of keeping up with something they know they’re not and it’s okay to be like that.” Neville whispered, tone laced with tenderness as he spoke. Your eyes were locked with his brown ones and all you saw was sincerity in every word he spoke.

“You can still be yourself, love. Be someone that you love, not someone to please other people. There’s a reason why you’re in Hufflepuff and not in any other house. You know that deep down inside of you and I’ve seen that first hand.” He continued, smiling fondly at the memories you;ve managed to create with him. How you slowly stepped out of your cold figure and show who you really are.

“You tend to put people before yourself like how you stood up for me that night with Malfoy, like how you are with your parents. That’s what I love about you.” He confessed, making you look at him with surprised eyes.

It was the first time you’ve ever heard someone say that— it felt good. Warmth spread through your body as you stared at him and you saw it. The adoration he has for you and right there, you know that wasn’t lying.

“I-I’m sorry, that d-didn’t mean to sl-” “I love you too.” You cut him off, now finding the words you’ve wanted to tell him for the longest time. “I hope you don’t change the way how you lo- wait what?” He was continuing to ramble on until what you said had processed in him. “Y-You do?”

“Yes, I do.” You nodded once, now resting your forehead with his as you laughed softly. “Thank you, Neville. For staying with me and believing that I’m more than what others see.” You spoke gently, feeling his warm breath against your lips, the familiar scent of mint wafting through your nose.

“You’ve done the same for me, love.” He responsed, now holding your face with his hands gently, afraid to hurt you even the slightest.

You saw how his eyes flicker for just a split second to your lips, to which you took the change to pull his tie to press a gentle kiss on his lips. His eyes were wide, feeling your plush ones against his; until he too melted, and gave in.

The both of you pulled away, breathless. You broke out into a quiet laugh, hugging him in the process, to which he gladly reciprocated.

“Everything’s better with you, Nev.” You whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek as you smiled. He mirrored your smile, pulling away to hold your hand and presses a peck to your forehead.

“I intend to keep it that way forever.”

And that’s when you knew that everything would be okay, as long as he’s there with you.

#neville longbottom #neville #neville longbottom x reader #neville x reader #neville longbottom fluff #neville longbottom imagine #neville imagine #neville fluff #neville x y/n #neville longbottom x y/n #harry potter #harry potter imagine #i hope you like this

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youaremysamshine · 3 years

Text

So I wrote a thing! A whole thing! If you want to read some mostly-angst about Sam’s feelings directly post-Gadreel, then maybe think about reading this? I’ve posted it below and on AO3.

-----

Sam is reeling after he has kicked Gadreel out. He never wants to lose time again - unfortunately, his body needs sleep.

Post 9.10 "Road Trip"

----- The first night is easy. Tired as Sam is, the fear and pain and disorientation far outweigh any exhaustion, and despite promising Cas he’ll try to get some rest, he never considers actually going to sleep. The idea is absurd. So yes, on the first night it’s almost effortless to avoid sleep.

The next day isn’t extremely hard, either - in terms of staying awake, that is. It’s plenty hard in other ways, of course, but a staple of Sam’s life has been the sleep deprivation, and he is well practiced in functioning on precious little. He can act awake well, and any slips are easily chalked up to his recovery from the events of the past… however long.

But Cas has now spent time being human, and so notices - where previously he might not have - that Sam needs sleep. And after his prompts have been shrugged off several times by Sam - “It’s only 10, it’s not that late...”, “Yes, Cas, after I finish this chapter…”, “Yeah, I’ll just have a bite to eat first…” - Cas all but leads Sam to his bedroom and tells him to sleep. Now.

Sam acquiesces to this command, knowing Cas won’t let it rest if he does not, but again, he still has no intention of falling into unconsciousness. The idea of sleep is terrifying. He can’t. He’s well aware his body wants to - his eyes are sore and he has been frequently yawning for the past hour - but he will not give in. Not today.

He picks up another book from his own shelves - the one he had been reading in the library had been left behind when Cas had shepherded him to his room - and settles down in his chair to read. Okay, he might be needing to reread each sentence to take in the meaning, and yes, he did just spend several minutes wondering if queue was really a word, but no, he won’t yield, this is still far better than-

He startles, jerking forward, bashing his abdomen against the desk. The book has fallen out of his hands, the noise waking him up from his split-second nap.

Alright, he concedes. I’ll just take a short break.

He sets his phone timer for fifteen minutes. Then ten. Then five. Then ten again. He lies down and shuts his eyes, but immediately gets up again, pacing the room. He cannot do this. He sits down at the desk again, not bothering to pick up the book this time, tapping his fingers anxiously against the wood. He can barely think, he’s so tired.

Go back to bed, set your timer. Lie down, just stay there. Wait. It’s only ten minutes. It’s fine, Sam. Just ten minutes. The timer goes off, quicker than he had expected, and he resets it. This will work, this might actually work. He had changed into his pyjamas earlier to placate Cas, and is pleased with the comfort that they afford him now. His eyes close, his body relaxes, finally getting the rest it deserves.

BEEP. A brief moment of panic checking where he is, that the time is right, but relief soon follows. He resets the timer. He falls back to sleep.

BEEP. Frustration at being woken up. Relief that he has woken up. Resetting the alarm.

Sleep. BEEP. Repeat. Sleep. BEEP. Repeat. Unconventional, but effective. Sam sleeps. He sleeps well.

And then suddenly Kevin is there, looking at him trustingly until his eyes burn out and he no longer can and Sam is painfully wrenched back into wakefulness, the name of the boy falling from his lips as his eyes fly open. He scrambles for his phone.

4:32

It’s 4:32. It should be 2:15. He is certain he’d last restarted his alarm at 2:05. He had been checking each time, paying close attention because he needs to know.

Oh God, 4:32. That’s two whole hours. Fuck. Anything could have happened in two hours. He can’t -- He needs --

Cas. Shit.

In a blind panic he races for the door, turning into the corridor at high speed, his hunter reflexes being the only thing that stops him from hurtling straight into the man he wanted to find.

“Sam?” Cas’ voice is laced with concern, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at Sam. But, importantly, he’s still here, still alive, nothing has happened to him.

“I just…” Sam trails off. Now that he knows Cas is alright, the need to see him has completely changed into a desire to get away, be anywhere else. Cas’s penetrating gaze and worry is not what Sam wants right now. “Toilet,” he finishes lamely, and sidesteps Cas to head to the bunker’s restrooms.

“Sam, I know you aren’t okay.” Castiel’s deep voice follows Sam down the corridor as surely as the angel does himself. Sam ducks into a cubicle and locks the door, hoping Cas will get the hint.

“Sam?”

A deep breath. Closed eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’m fine.”

He can almost feel Cas’s skepticism about that statement. “I highly doubt that, Sam. Let me help.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sam, I sensed you distress from-” “I don’t WANT you here, Cas!” Even as he says it, he hates himself a little bit more. Cas is just being kind, far more of a good friend than Sam deserves, but right now Sam just can’t stand it. “Let me shit in peace, please,” he adds for good measure.

Footsteps, and Cas’s presence disappears. When Sam makes his way back to his room, he does not see Cas. He’ll apologize tomorrow.

4:44. Three fours. Huh, Good job it isn’t three sixes right? But you can’t get three sixes on a clock, Sam. Unless you count in military.. miltry.. mil-i-ta-ry time? No, don’t be stupid. That only goes up to twenty-two - no, wait, twenty-four? But does it ever reach twenty-four… Oh, crap, I really, really need to sleep.

4:45. Only one more hour until. Until what? He was going to say until he can get up, or at least, pretend to get up, and go about yet another normal day, no longer needing to feign sleep. But it hits him now that he’s still going to be bone-tired.

He wonders at how he has missed this great, big, obvious fact. He’s been so caught up in avoiding sleep right here, right now, every single minute, that he’s lost the bigger picture. How long can he carry this on for? The rest of tomorrow? Until Wednesday? But he’ll have to stop at some point.

This is too big, too awful, for him to contemplate right now. No, right now he does not need to sleep. And he can continue doing that. Saying no. He’s good at saying no. He just needs to keep on, just keep on, Sam.

The next hour goes as slowly as the last two had gone quickly. Eventually he judges it a suitable time to leave for the kitchen to get coffee. He’s thought of how to apologize to Cas, reworded it several times, a good distraction from anything else in his head.

The kitchen is empty. He still stops every yawn, stifles every urge to rub his eyes. Cas will not get a chance to send him back to bed. The coffee helps, a little, and the second one even more. Cas walks in as he is sipping his third. Sam can’t read his expression. He instinctively lowers his eyes, looks away from Cas, then realises this could be seen as rude, and looks up again. He doesn’t want to hurt Cas more.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Good morning Sam. Did you sleep?”

Sam notices that Cas missed off the “well” that usually accompanies the end of that question. Cas really knows him.

“Yeah, thanks.” It isn’t exactly a lie. Sam is fairly certain he had fallen asleep for those two hours, and that has to count for something, right? He quickly plunges on, needing to put the apology out there as soon as possible, and ends up stumbling over his words in his haste.

“Look, Cas, erm- I’m really sorry about pushing you off last night. I’m not really sure why I acted like that but yeah, it was- I shouldn’t have.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas replies simply. “I was worried - and I was wondering if this morning you might be wanting me to leave properly, to give you your space.”

“What? No!” Sam stands up, needing to ensure Cas does not think that necessary. “No, that’s not at all what I… Well, I mean,” he bites his tongue and thinks about his words. “If you want to go, of course, I don’t want to be the thing that stops you, but no. I was just tired and, well, like you said, not okay last night. I want you to stay here, of course I do - that is, if you want to stay here?” He’s looking at Cas cautiously, hopefully, but is suddenly convinced that of course Cas will leave, everybody leaves.

“My wish is to stay here with you,” Cas says. Sam lets out an involuntary sigh of relief.

“You look surprised,” Cas comments. Sam is taken aback at how easily Cas can read him.

“Yeah, no - I… You don’t need to, like, look after me, or anything. And I was horrible to you last night.”

Cas frowns. “But I want to look after you, Sam Winchester. You’ve suffered a great deal and that needs to be put to rights. I am your friend. As for last night - I understand that you were tired; you have now apologised, and it is forgotten.”

Sam stares and nods his head, a little unsure how to react to Cas’s words. “Thank you,” he manages to say, quietly, and Cas’s gentle smile suggests that he might be aware of everything else Sam means beyond the two words.

Cas walks slowly towards Sam, raising his arms somewhat awkwardly. “If you would like,” he says, “the hug we shared yesterday was rather comforting, and I would like to give you that again.”

Unbidden, Sam’s mind snaps back to their first meeting. “The boy with the demon blood,” Cas had called him, then. He marvels at how far Cas has fallen, to be here, now, with him, but selfishly he closes the gap, and allows himself to be hugged. It’s the best he’s felt in a long while.

-------

A second part may happen but probably not. Subscribe over on AO3 if you’re feeling lucky :P

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mikwrites-archive · 4 years

Text

danger

➳ requested by @croctears: im gon go ahead a req a badboy seungcheol bc im a huge mf simp for him 0:

➳ pairing: choi seungcheol x reader ➳ warnings: mentions of blood, insecurity ➳ genre: bad boy but secretly soft seungcheol, v slight angst ➳ wc: 1.7k

➳ a/n: idk if this classifies as bad boy cheol but i hope you like it !! ♡ i tried something new w this au/trope and pushing this out while suffering from writers block was not v fun WHJBSDJFH

“Anyone catching your eye lately?”

“You ask this every week ‘Kwannie.” You sigh, and he huffs while Joshua snorts.

“A week can change a lot! You can’t tell me you don’t see someone at least once a day that you’re interested in.”

“I mean, if I had to choose, I guess...” You mutter the name lowly, partly hoping they wouldn’t catch it, but you knew them better.

“Choi Seungcheol?”

“Keep your voice down!” You hiss, swatting Seungkwan with the book in your hand, and being utterly stunned with your confession, he doesn’t react.

“I didn’t say I had a crush on him or anything, I just think he’s...”

“Hot?” Joshua offers knowingly, and you’re grateful you’re all sitting on the floor at the reception desk while sorting through returns.

“No! Well, yes, but he’s also...“

Dangerous.

“Just forget it.” You dismiss, and they both frown.

“He’s literally the resident bad boy of our school. And you’re like, the goody two shoes. I don’t think we can just forget it.”

“Okay, Mr. I watched Grease once and think it can apply to real life.”

“I’d like to see you and Seungcheol try singing ‘You’re The One That I Want’ like John Travolta and Olivia Newton John.” Seungkwan scoffs.

“Excuse me?”

The three of you bolt up at the sound of an all too recognizable voice, and you’re the first to act, scrambling to sit on the chair, clearing your throat.

“Yes?”

Seungcheol leans against the counter, fitted leather jacket creasing, handing a piece of paper over, and you fight the urge to cry out as Seungkwan pinches your arm, hard.

“One of my friends is looking for this book, but doesn’t know if we have it.”

You can palpably feel their disappointment at the contents of the note behind you, and you take the paper, recognizing the title easily.

“We do, I put it back just this morning so it should still be there.”

“Lead the way.” Seungcheol gestures, and you glance back pleadingly to Seungkwan and Vernon who are suddenly invested in the stack of books you left.

Seeing as you had no other choice, you proceed through the aisles silently, and when you reach the destined one, you scan the titles quickly, Seungcheol observing your actions relaxedly. When you find it, you slide it out of its place carefully, handing it to him lightly.

“Thanks.” He smiles roguishly at you, adding on as he examines the cover, flipping it between his hands. “By the way, ‘Summer Nights’ is more of my taste.”

“You heard that?” You squeak as the words settle in your realization, covering your face with one hand, and Seungcheol grins. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He shrugs, and his nonchalance is a contrast to the fidget in your limbs. “It was cute.”

“That’s... good.”

You want nothing more than the library floors to crack open and swallow you whole, but he laughs, walking backwards out of the aisle, and it’s the kind that draws a hesitant smile onto your own face.

“Thanks again for the book. We should hang out sometime. You’re fun.”

The headache that he leaves you with, accompanying the final words, is no match to Seungkwan and Joshua’s screeches that escape in the quiet library when you tell them what occurred.

“Can I use your phone? Mine died.” Joshua asks expectantly during one of your study sessions, and you hand it over reluctantly, much to Joshua’s gratitude and Seungkwan’s amusement.

“She’s talking to her boyfriend, Joshua, quit interrupting.” Seungkwan drawls the last word teasingly, and you huff.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“You call him Cheol?” Joshua gapes, the text notification popping up, and you snatch it back immediately. “Hey, I wasn’t done using that!”

“Use Seungkwan’s then!”

“So have you guys been talking often?” Joshua inquires curiously, after silence befalls the table, and you shrug.

“I guess? We’ve hung out at school a little and he’s asked me to go for boba a few times, but-”

“Don’t tell me you said no.”

“I said no.”

“Why?” Seungkwan wails. “I thought you liked him! He certainly seems to like you!”

“I never said that!” You ignore his other comment.

“You didn’t have to!”

“He’s... he’s really nice. He really is. But I don’t want to have to deal with the whole... reputation thing. Remember last month when he was literally all everyone talked about because he got a new tattoo? Or crashed his motorcycle in the parking lot? Or all the fights he’s gotten into?”

“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” Joshua snorts. “If you like him then who cares what everyone else talks about?”

“I’ll think about it.” You sigh, and you don’t catch the knowing looks they send one another.

But you don’t get a chance to think about it for long, the next day Seungkwan bursts into the classroom you usually all eat lunch together in, bent over and out of breath.

“Your boyfriend. In a fight. Cafeteria.” He manages to wheeze out.

You don’t have the time to refute the title Seungkwan put on Seungcheol, grabbing your bag and bolting out of the room.

You reach the front ring throughout the crowd just as Seungcheol delivers a punch, sending the other boy staggering into a side mass of people.

His mouth is bloody, spitting red to the side, cheek bruised purple and knuckles scraped. He braces for another throw, and you call out in the yells and cheers.

“Seungcheol!”

You’re not sure if he hears you, the crowd surging as staff appears and attempts to break the conflict apart, no one wanting to be caught as an instigator.

You wait agitatedly in the nurse’s office after lunch is over, grateful to the coincidence that you happened to volunteer during this day.

“I thought you worked in the library.” Seungcheol halts at the doorway, looking entirely distressed at your presence, and you keep your expression flat.

“I do. But I also work in the nurse’s office.” You gesture for him to sit down on the cot, and he does slowly.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I was in that fight?” He pipes up after a few moments of silence.

“I’m not your mom, Seungcheol.” You respond with little interest.

“You look like her when she’s mad at me. Are you mad?”

“Why do you care?” It comes out harsher than intended.

“I can’t care?” He retorts, and you place down your supplies with a strong exhale.

“No, it’s just that I’m not a close friend of yours, we’re not dating, so I don’t know why you expect me to have an opinion on something that doesn’t apply to me.”

“Maybe I want you to care.” He murmurs, and you swallow, chucking the bloodied gauze into the trashcan. Before you can respond, mulling over the appropriate words to utter, he stands, exiting the room. His last words are a low mutter before the door slams shut.

“Sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He doesn’t talk to you for a week after that.

You’re not sure if it’s because he’s suspended for most of it, or the looks that Seungkwan and Joshua send him whenever they’re with you and he comes near, but you don’t seek him out either.

It’s not until you see him walk out after school, busying yourself with your book as you see him approach, waiting on a bench in the parking lot for your late ride. Scuffed black boots enter your vision and you look up.

“Hey. Shouldn’t you have gone home already?”

“I’m waiting for my ride. They’re late.” You reply plainly, and Seungcheol scoffs. He’s still bandaged, but you can tell they’re healing well.

“I’ll take you home.”

“But... don’t you come to school on your motorcycle?”

He only raises an eyebrow at you in response, walking towards said bike, helmet under his arm, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you contemplate whether you should follow.

The text message that pings your phone answers for you, telling you they wouldn’t be there for another hour, and you scramble after Seungcheol.

“Here. I’ve ridden this enough to not need it this time.”

“Are you sure? I can always just walk home or something.” Your gaze lowers to the ground the more you progress in your sentence, scuffing the toe of your sneaker against the asphalt. “You did just get into a fight not too long ago.”

He’s wholly amused at your suggestion as he tilts your chin up with two fingers.

“You’re too cute.”

He’s still holding the helmet out, and you take it hurriedly, shoving it on to cover your flushed features.

“Hold tight.” He advises as you climb awkwardly onto the bike behind him, and you immediately cling to him like plastic wrap after you tell him your address.

“You okay?” He leans the bike on his kickstand, and you nod, hopping off the seat and tugging the helmet off.

“Thank you.”

He shrugs in response, and you gnaw at your bottom lip.

“Do... do you want to come inside?” You offer, turning back and holding the gate open for him. “My parents aren’t home, not that that means anything, but I thought...”

It’s an olive branch, extended as a true desire to fully reconcile, and after a moment’s hesitation, he takes it, stepping past the gate.

“Do you want anything to eat? Drink?” Seungcheol hasn’t uttered a word as he sits in your kitchen, toying with the edge of the tablecloth as you sit across from him awkwardly.

“No thanks.”

“Cheol.” He looks up at you, expression unreadable. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I...” you hesitate. “I just really like you. And I care about you. Too much I think considering we’ve only known each other for a few weeks. And I know I shouldn’t care about what others think if we get together, but I’m scared.”

“I’m sorry too.” He takes your hand gently, resting on the table. “I like you a lot. I just didn’t tell you, and that’s nothing you should beat yourself up over sweetheart. Please don’t be scared.” He smooths circles along the back of your hand comfortingly, smiling at you toothily.

“We’ll get through it together if we care about one another, and if it ever stops, let’s make the most of it.”

➳ taglist: @writeiolite @soranihimawari @peachy-yabbay

#caratwritersclub #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol imagines #scoups x reader #scoups imagines #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol imagines #svt imagines #svt x you #svt x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader

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pearl-blue-musings · 4 years

Text

Perchance to Meet Aizawa Shouta x fem!Reader

Hi again! So this idea has been flowing and living in my head rent free for awhile so I thought I’d write out what I’ve been mulling over! This may possibly be a series cause I’ve got lots of the story played out in my mind

A/n: if my timeline is correct, this occurs a bit before the main story so like whole class 1-A is still in middle schoolish; it’s not 18+ now but it will be muahahahaha

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

Part 2

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He wasn’t sure what compelled him to join his coworkers for night out but here is. It might have been the constant pestering he got from his long time friend Hizashi and newer friend Nemuri. However he can’t complain now because he, Aizawa Shouta, was out at lesser known club wondering just what the hell he was getting himself into.

To say that this wasn’t his scene is an understatement. Did he really want to be spending his night off around a bunch of sweaty and drunk people? Of course not; he’s immediately regretting not bringing his sleeping bag to at least make himself more comfortable. The loud and banging bass of the music rumbles throughout his body as his two companions return to their booth after a bit of dancing.

“Aw come on Shouta! We’re here to have fun! Let loose, and vibe with the music ya dig?”

Aizawa gives the blond a glare that would scare children into submission. Hizashi doesn’t give up at getting his friend to lighten up and enjoy himself and smiling broadly. He continues to poke Aizawa’s shoulder to get him up on the dance floor.

“Not on your life.”

“At least get a drink! There’s a real cute and groovy listener that’s serving drinks and she’s amazing at what she does,” he yells over the music. “Trust me!” He drawls out that last word to let him know that his inebriated state had hit him hard. Aizawa rolls his eyes and succumbs to his friends wishes as he slowly makes his way out of the booth to head over to the main bar. He’s thankful for deciding to put his hair in a low ponytail as he feels the humidity of the club around him while he weaves his way thorugh the crowd. As he approaches the bar, he spots Nemuri. Her sapphire eyes dance under the flashing and changing lights as she takes a stranger toward some stairs near the back. She’s always up to something, he muses to himself.

Once at the bar, he manages to find an empty stool in a corner and props himself up onto it. Now that he’s here, he didn’t think to ask Hizashi what this person looked like. Oh well, at least he’ll get another drink to make this night more bearable. His eyes glance over the liquors and sprits on the shelves behind the bartenders as he contemplates what he wants to order.

“You know, staring at the shelves won’t make your decision any easier.”

Aizawa is brought out of his thoughts as he follows the voice to its owner. He blinks a couple of times to make sure he’s seeing what he’s seeing. (E/c) irises bore into his and the smile that dances on her lips almost made him lose his composure.

Almost.

“Well then,” he responds, “what would you recommend?”

The bartender scans his being and lightly places her hand on his. Black eyebrows furrow in confusion but she calmly tells him it’ll be okay and to give her a second. Her eyes slightly change color as she holds his hand and stares into his with an intensity he’s never gotten from any random stranger. As soon as she lets go he’s missing her touch already. Weird.

“You’re here for your friends and you just want to be able to relax or even better go home and snuggle in, I’m assuming your bed or sleeping bag, am I right?”

She giggles softly at his taken aback face. She takes his silence as a means to continue. “Judging from that, you’re not too particular about liquors but you don’t want anything too sweet. So I’ll make you a whiskey on the rocks and an Old Fashioned. How does that sound?”

The slender built man feels like he has to physically shut his jaw at this bartenders analysis of him. Just how the hell did she do that? And how did she know that’s exactly what he goes to when he’s undecided?

At the sound of glassware being placed in front of him, Aizawa moves to get his wallet to pay. He meets her gaze and she shakes her head. “On the house, but I have one condition.” His eyebrow lifts in surprise.

“Oh? And what is that?”

“That you stay here and keep me company.”

It was strange. Hizashi hadn’t come to check on him since he left their booth almost 30 minutes ago and he hadn’t realized how long time had passed talking with the bartender. It was also strange how the atmosphere of the club blurred into the background the more he chatted with this person. Aizawa found out that her name is (Y/n) (L/n) and she has a mind quirk. She’s able to understand and know what people, or in her case customers, are feeling and how to make them feel better whether it be a drink, a book, the right words to say... She noted to him that she always had a need to help people feel better but didn’t want to be a hero, saying she wanted to help in more simple ways.

“I think that’s very heroic in its own way,” he states after taking a sip from his second whiskey on the rocks. “It’s admirable that you want to help others no matter what.”

(Y/n) laughs at that sadly as she makes another patrons drink. It’s incredible how the 20 something is able to hold a conversation with him and serve others at the same time. However, Aizawa picked up on something the more he saw her hands work. When she returns her (e/c) eyes look downcast. “Yeah I guess,” she sighs, “I mean don’t get me wrong I love working here but my real love is books.”

Aizawa gulps down the rest of his drink, “Books?”

The hero doesn’t miss the way her eyes light up at the mention of books, almost like he had been talking to the shell that was (Y/n) this whole time. “I own my own bookstore. It’s small but I’m hoping to expand; that’s why I picked up hours here at the club. Aizawa-san, the rush I get when someone wants to discover more about themselves through books and being able to provide that to someone,” she breathes to catch her breath, “is a feeling I can never get tired of.”

Her (h/c) hair whisks away as another customer comes up and asks for a drink and again he notices it. She didn’t grab their hand or stare into their souls. Why only him?

She returns and proceeds to take his empty glasses and cleans them. As she’s drying them he promptly asks, “Why didn’t you use your quirk on those other customers? Why only me?”

Aizawa doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her shoulders drop. She deeply sighs and finishes drying the drink-ware. “I don’t like to use it all the time. It’s gotten me in trouble and it can be tiring so I only save it for my bookstore and particular occasions.”

“So what’s so special about me?”

“You looked like you could use a pick me up.”

He snickered at her observant ways as she presses on. “I’ve gotten really good and understanding people, even without my quirk. Many people know what they want to drink at a bar or even a bookstore. But sometimes you can tell that people want something more or something different and that’s where I come in to help.”

At this point, he can’t help but openly stare at the gorgeous woman in front of him. There was something about her presence, something about her aura that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, maybe it was the music, maybe it was him still reeling from the news of All Might joining his school, or maybe...

Maybe it was just her.

Everything about her was shrouded in mystery but also familiarity and calmness. He didn’t know how long he was staring at her until she was staring back asking if he was okay. He caught himself and quickly apologized as she searched for his phone. A grunt left his lips as he saw the frantic texts from Hizashi and one from Nemuri telling them both that she had her own ride home. As soon as he was about to respond he felt two strong hands on his shuolder.

“Shouta! I’ve been looking for ya buddy! I thought you left, which wouldn’t have surprised me but here you are!”

The calmer friend had removed his fingers from his ears to compensate for the vocal hero’s yelling. A small, yet brief, smile adorns his face as Aizawa is reunited with his friend.

“Anyways, I was thinking that it’s about time to head out since it’s nearing 1:30 in the morning!”

“Ah, sounds good.” Aizawa hums to him and turns his attention to the bar, only to see her being bombarded with customers as last call is nearing in the club. Their eyes meet briefly and he points his head toward the door indicating that he plans to head out. Somehow she understands and quickly wraps up her remaining customers to return to their corner. He feels Hizashi pull on his shirt and he tells him to wait a few minutes which garners an exasperated sigh from thie blond man.

However as the bartender returns, the blond understands and smiles wickedly. He tries to keep his excitement to himself but he wants to let it flow and tell everyone in the club that his dear friend, Aizawa Shouta, was having a very long conversation with a woman! At a club! That he didn’t want to go to! So he does what any good best friend does and eavesdrops while keeping a safe distance.

(Y/n) props her elbow on the bar and gives her attention to he black haired male who’s had it the whole night. She doesn’t want to come off as weird but she had noticed him when he first entered. Of course she would recognize the underground pro-hero Eraserhead and his friends from U.A. Present Mic and Midnight. She’d be an idiot to not know who they were. She had a hunch that they didn’t want their hero status exposed tonight she she had asked the staff to keep themselves neutral as they saw them throughout the club. She can understand the need to get away and let loose, but she didn’t peg Aizawa as the type to go out to places like this. If she’s being honest, she’s incredibly happy he came here because it was the first time in a long time she felt truly comfortable around someone. It made her elated, but also scared at the same time.

“I’m guessing you’re heading out?”

Aizawa simply nods and pulls out his wallet again. “I told you it’s on the house-”

“At least let me pay for half, Kitty, I had a few while I was here.”

Both parties freeze at the use of the pet name. (S/c) cheeks start to heat up and change color as she felt her heartbeat start to race. The man in front of her had a slight pink tint to his ears but was able to recover quickly. “Ah, y-yeah sure. I’ll ring you up.”

He doesn’t miss the way a bolt of electricity flowed through them as their fingers grazed each other as he handed her his card. When she returned with his receipt he noticed an extra card underneath his. It was a business card for what seems to be a bookstore with an address, hours, and phone number on it. His eyes meet hers in an almost homely way.

“I really liked talking to you Aizawa-san. I’d, uh, really like it if you visited me in the daylight.”

He takes the card and places it securely in his wallet and gives her the most heartfelt smile she’s ever seen.

“I’d like that very much, (L/n).”

BONUS

“I told you she was super cute!”

“Shut it”

“So that’s where you went for almost two hours! I mean I’m glad you and Nemuri had a great night while I was being bombarded with fans! By the way thanks for saving me regardless of how much I texted you but you were busy getting some,” he pauses and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, “you know a phone number.”

“It’s not too late to end our friendship.”

“Zawa!! So mean!”

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@whats-her-quirk @kiribaku-queen @ghoularaki @cupidcreates @cupcake-rogue @myherowritings @prk-pyo

#bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa imagine #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x reader #yamada hizashi #mha nemuri #mha reader insert #mha fanfiction #my writing #i did the thing #bnha x y/n #perchance

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angrylizardjacket · 3 years

Text

dirtbags // 5: Charlotte

Summary: High School AU. 1985. Winter. Charlotte and Razzle are officially not dating, while Lola’s not dating someone but won’t say who, though she’s contemplating sleeping with Tommy in an effort to get him to stop pining for her, which Charlotte thinks is a terrible idea. Except that Charlotte lets slip to Tommy that that’s Lola’s plan, and he doesn’t take it well. The whole pack ends up at the Drive-In, which is going great for Charlotte and Razzle right up until Nikki decides to be an ass, and Charlotte realises that Tommy has spoken to Lola about their fight. It looks like things will be getting worse before they get better.

A/N: 6655 words. long overdue sorry!! @misscharlottelee and @evaangelics my beloveds this is, as always, for you both. ft. asofterworld quotes

my sister and i both hate antique shopping. but we love hating things together.

So yes, technically Charlotte and Razzle spent the better part of Heather’s party in a dark corner being altogether gross, as an incredibly drunk Peach had informed them both before she was pulled away by a far more sober Vince, which Charlotte hadn’t thought much of at the time, herself more than a little tipsy, but hearing Eileen rant in the diner the following day had made her feel a little guilty for not paying more attention. Not that anything bad happened, but still, she felt partially responsible for the young ginger girl.

But the point is that Charlotte and Razzle are not dating, despite what everyone in their weird and ragtag bunch of lunchtime delinquents likes to imply. If Charlotte could justify punching Nikki again, she absolutely would. It’s not her fault that Razzle’s interesting and kind and honest and funny, and if she finds herself feeling a little heady, a little good-nauseous, like she had back when she and Duff had first been dancing around the idea of being a couple, she pushes those feelings to the back of her mind and distracts herself with something, anything else.

Right now, she’s got a terrible headache and is having a whisper argument with Lola in the middle of art, trying to talk her out of pity-fucking Tommy.

“You make it sound so crass and heartless,” Lola’s lip curled, frowning at the red pencil in her hand and the cartoon drawing of a flower in her notes, “pity-fucking,” the word sounds wrong on Lola’s lips, tone derisive, “you say it like I don’t care about him.”

“Don’t pity-fuck my cousin, you can both do better,” Charlotte rubs at her temples, eyes closed, as Lola makes a noise like she’s not too sure if that’s a compliment, “a few weeks ago, you promised me you were just friends -”

“He’s a hopeless romantic who keeps hearing about cheerleaders sleeping with people who aren’t him, lemme put him out of his misery -”

“By fucking him? What if he catches further feelings for you?”

“I dunno, I’ll kill him?” Lola suggests flippantly, and when Charlotte cracks her eyes open to level a glare at Lola, the dark haired girl is grinning, clearly joking.

“Why Tommy? Why can’t you sleep with someone less related to me?” Charlotte hisses, tone vaguely annoyed and desperate, “I thought you were getting laid? What’s up with you and Nikki anyways?” There’s a shift in her tone, and Lola makes a face, pressing a little harder with her pencil.

“I am sleeping with someone less related to you,” Lola says, though there’s a strangely guarded quality to her voice, “not Nikki, for the record; he’s the one who suggested I sleep with Tommy to begin with. He’s too much of a bitch to fuck me himself,” she mutters, mostly to herself, a little wrinkle creasing the bridge of her nose as she thinks about it.

“Wait, you’re seeing someone? For real? And it’s not Nikki?” Charlotte’s expression lit up, and Lola gave her a calculating looking out of the corner of her eye.

“I bet we both know another person I’m not sleeping with,” and Lola’s tone is mean and a little venomous as she deftly changes the subject, “how is our favourite exchange student, by the way?” Charlotte realises too late that her excited questioning of Lola’s private life may have touched a nerve. For all that Lola’s become more open in the few months they’ve been friends, there were strange lines Charlotte kept finding. Lola never really acted as though she cared much about Charlotte and Razzle’s vague status, so to use it against Charlotte was a surprise, and a clear giveaway that one of those lines had been crossed. It got Lola’s message across well enough, and Charlotte’s mouth snapped closed.

Lola was a terrible distraction when she wanted to be.

“Lola’s not seeing anyone,” Nikki says flatly around his cigarette, and when Charlotte realises she’s gossiping with Nikki Sixx, she wonders idly where her life went wrong, “she’s fucking someone,” he corrected, “and she refuses to tell me who, but she’s not seeing anyone.” He sounds far more annoyed than Charlotte had anticipated, and she can’t help herself. She tugs on that string.

“Wait, so it’s actually not you?”

“Lola’s dad is built like He-Man, Master of the Fucking Universe, have you seen him, Charlie? I couldn’t stick it in his daughter and bring myself to look him in the eye every other day; and I’m past worrying if he’s gonna toss me into space like he’s an Olympic hammer thrower,” Nikki considers for a moment, before heaving a sigh, “I just don’t wanna disappoint him.”

“You think fucking Lola’s gonna disappoint her dad?” Charlotte’s brow wrinkled with slight confusion, “why do you even talk to her dad every other day?”

“We work together?” Nikki says, like it’s the simplest answer in the world, and oh, suddenly Charlotte knows exactly why the back of the fry cook in Leo’s looked so familiar. Nikki can obviously read it on her face as the realisation, the full understanding of the situation dawns on Charlotte, but it still doesn’t stop her from bursting out with laughter.

“Oh dude, you definitely cannot fuck your boss’s daughter, no matter how much you so clearly want to -”

“Hey!” Nikki snapped, “bold words coming from you, Miss Lee; you already made sure Razz has had the full American High School Experience, or are you waiting for Prom to go full cliché about it?”

“Nikki, I’ve already punched you in the face once, so help me -”

“Yeah but now I know what to expect, I’m kinda into it,” Nikki’s grin is all teeth, and he leans across the table, into Charlotte’s space, “do it again, Miss Lee,” he teases, offering up his cheek to her, grinning from ear to ear. Charlotte makes a disgusted noise, leaning back, crossing her arms.

“You disgust me; can you please quit your job so you can fuck Lola?”

Thankfully, this seems to take the wind out of Nikki’s sails, his expression falling to something irritated as he huffs and drops his gaze, sitting back dejectedly, and pointedly refusing, unable to come with a snide comeback in time to save face.

“Lola would punch you in the face,” Charlotte pointed out, tone a little smug, and Nikki presses his lips together, trying very hard to keep his expression neutral as a blush creeps up his cheeks.

“So would that leggy redhead of yours,” he’s quick to change the conversation, “isn’t she in the musical? You know my band’s still looking for a singer -”

“Lemme stop you right there,” Charlotte stops Nikki in his tracks, holding up a single hand for silence, “first of all, the only person Eileen hates more than you is Vince Neil, and she told me personally that she’d rather eat glass than join your band, secondly -”

“You talked about my band with her?” There’s something a little bashful in Nikki’s voice, and the blush hasn’t left his cheeks; the whole picture would be endearing if he wasn’t such a colossal asshole.

“Secondly,” Charlotte tries again, “you know her name’s Eileen; everyone knows her name is Eileen, stop calling her my leggy redhead,” she ordered, before taking a deep breath, trying to let her irritation subside, “and thirdly, Lola was the one who asked Eileen to be in your band, Eileen just brought it up to me because she knew Tommy was in it.” Nikki, who had already been pink all over, was steadily turning red, trying to hide it as he made a show of patting down his pockets looking for his cigarettes.

“Lola... uh, she talks about my band? She asked if Eileen wanted to join us?” He’s shooting for casual and missing the mark miserably, much to Charlotte’s delight.

“You’re so in love with her,” she smirks. Nikki scowls at her. The bell rings.

i have found a way to watch video in your head. high definition, with instant replay. it is called having regrets.

When Eileen invites Charlotte to the drive in, and suggests bringing Razzle, she insists it’s not a date, that some of the people from the musical were just getting together to watch the new horror movie, and she thought it would be good for Razzle to experience a proper, drive-in movie. That probably should have set of alarm bells in Charlotte’s mind, since everyone knew that if you take someone to a horror movie at the drive-in, you generally don’t end up actually watching much of the movie. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book.

But Eileen’s adamant, and Charlotte honestly wouldn’t actually mind sneaking off with Razzle at some point, if the opportunity arose, not that she’s admit that.

“I should ask Lola to go,” Tommy says, tone a little wistful, when, on Thursday, Charlotte tells him her plans for the following evening; alarm bells definitely start ringing.

They’re in Tommy’s kitchen after school, with his mom at the supermarket, and his dad at work, they’ve got the house to themselves, apart from Tommy’s sister upstairs, monopolising the phone. Charlotte’s sitting on the counter, while Tommy’s staring into the refrigerator, not actually looking at what’s in there, thoughts miles away as he considers his own words.

“Shut that if you’re not going to get anything, and no you shouldn’t,” Charlotte shuts him down immediately, to which Tommy frowns, asking derisively when she became the boss of him, slamming the fridge closed, “I thought you two were just friends,” Charlotte counters with.

“I can ask a friend to the drive-in,” though the way he suddenly can’t meet her gaze betrays him, and he flits over to a cupboard, opening it and staring at the food inside, trying to decide on an afternoon snack, “why are you here, anyways?” At this, Charlotte goes quiet and pensive, looking down at her knees as her heels kick softly against the cupboards below, trying not to think about how her mother keeps leaving college brochures out, with Law, Accounting, and Medicine courses all meticulously highlighted, or how whenever they’re in the same room, she’s treated to passive aggressive questions about whether she’s seen the brochures her parents know she definitely hasn’t touched.

“Am I not allowed to hang out with you?” Charlotte finally surfaces from her thoughts to see that Tommy is waiting for an answer.

“Not if you’re going to be an asshole.”

“If you’re going to daydream about Lola, I’m going to be an asshole,” Charlotte fired back, snarkily, and Tommy narrowed his eyes at her.

“You’ve become kind of a bitch since you started hanging out with Nikki,” he huffs, and Charlotte straightens up where she’s sitting, eyes going wide with disbelief, with slight outrage.

“I’m just fucking sick of hearing you chase after girls who don’t want you! It’s all you ever talk about!”

“Lola wants me! Lola fucking wants me, Charlie!”

“She doesn’t want you, she wants to pity-fuck you so you’ll get off her damn case! Just how naïve are you, Thomas?” Charlotte yells back, and immediately smacks her hand to her mouth, regret written all over her face. Tommy’s expression falls like his heart is breaking. “Tommy -”

“A real, fucking bitch,” there’s a shake in Tommy’s voice that is breaking Charlotte’s heart, and she tries to apologise, but he tells her to go home.

Yes, she leaves, she shuts the door behind herself, but she can’t bring herself to go home. Her feet carry her while her mind is blank, but when she looks up, she’s pushing open the door to the gas station, seeing Mick Mars look up from his magazine. Before he greets her, she sees the way his eyes search the space around her, roam the empty fuel pumps, as if expecting Tommy to pop out behind her. Then, once he considers himself safe, he puts down his magazine, tilting his head curiously at her, at her dejected demeanour.

“Charlotte?” She’s actually surprised that he knows her name, and Charlotte hovers in the door, letting in the cold air from outside as she deliberates. Why had she come here of all places? “Are you okay?” The words sound strange, like he’s not used to saying them, not used to showing any sort of care, but she appreciates them nonetheless.

“I was a massive asshole to Tommy,” the words spill from her before she can stop them, and she watches Mick’s expression, can almost see him fight back several sarcastic or congratulatory remarks, suppressing his own well-worn irritation for her cousin, instead, just making a noise in the back of his throat that she can’t quite decipher. Then, he looks out the window, looks to the clock on the wall, and takes his feet off the counter carefully.

“Do you want a slurpee?” He asks, obviously a little uncertain of how to proceed.

“Not really,” Charlotte admits, and Mick awkwardly looks around, as if to offer something else.

“Do you smoke?” He’s already pulling a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. Charlotte shoves her hands into her coat pockets, shaking her head, looking at the floor, not quite sure where to go from here herself, “do you mind if I smoke?”

“No,” her voice is small.

They sit on the step by the door outside the gas station, side by side, silent for a few minutes as Mick smokes his cigarette. No cars approach, but they watch some drive by as the sun sinks lower in the sky.

“I told him Lola doesn’t want him, that she’s just interested in pity-fucking him because she thinks it’d get him off her case,” Charlotte admits, and from the corner of her eye, she sees Mick wince, a sign that what she’d said truly was a dick move.

“That would’a broken the kid’s heart,” Mick muses around his cigarette, and Charlotte, who’d had her knees curled up to her chest, rests her chin on them, with a quiet ‘I know’.

“He said I turned into an asshole since I became friends with Nikki Sixx, and then I just managed to prove him right,” she seethes, disappointed in herself more than anything else.

“That’s your first problem; being friends with Nikki Sixx.”

“That was an accident,” Charlotte tried to defend herself, “and I’ve been friends with Nikki for kind of a while, honestly, but I was just so sick of hearing Tommy moon over girls who don’t even look twice at him, like they hung the stars in the sky -”

“Charlotte,” Mick interrupts her, his voice soft but insistent, and when she finally looks at him, he’s actually frowning at her, hands stilled with another cigarette half-pulled from it’s packet, “that’s not... you know why what you said hurt him, right? You know you could’a said that about any other cheerleader he was into and it would’a rolled right off his back, right?”

Oh. Oh no. Slowly, Charlotte’s expression crumbles as the full weight of her words dawns upon her, her guilt skyrocketing. Face in her hands, she actually wails, and Mick gives a firm pat on the back as a show of support.

“They’re friends, Mick.”

“I know, Charlotte.”

“God, fuck, he probably thinks that I mean she doesn’t even like him as a friend, Mick!”

“Yeah,” he sighed deeply, giving another pat, “I know, Charlotte.”

“I just... don’t want him to get his heart broken,” she admitted, her only attempt to justify herself, which Mick didn’t accept as a proper answer for a moment.

“He’s sixteen, he’s gotta make his own mistakes, and,” at this he hesitates, lighting up his cigarette and taking a long draft as he deliberated saying his next words, “don’t ever let her know I told you this,” he adds seriously, “but the last thing Lola wants to do is hurt that kid; if anything, she’s hoping hooking up with him will strengthen their friendship, and raise his confidence for when he goes after other girls.” This... is a lot to process.

“How do you even know this?” Charlotte asked, bewildered, and Mick scrunches his face up and takes another long inhale on his cigarette.

“We’re friends,” is what he settles on.

“What?”

“Lola and I... are friends,” he sounds like he doesn’t want to admit it, and visibly cringes as he follows it up with, “she cares about that kid, and speaks very highly of him, and of you, honestly, and maybe the kid’s not as irritating as I had him pegged as. He’s still irritating, but he,” and he audibly groans, hanging his head for a moment, as if disappointed that he’s even saying any of this, “he’s a good friend to Lola.” It’s like the words themselves hurt him to admit, so he changes the topic quickly, “she told me he’s in a band with Sixx, actually,” and his tone is thankfully much less strained as he straightens his posture a little, ignoring Charlotte’s frankly flabbergasted expression, “I’ve been seriously considering joining them.”

“You sing?” Is what Charlotte hears herself say, without really registering it. Mick snorts derisively.

“Fuck no, I play guitar.”

“You sho- you should join them,” Charlotte babbles, trying to make sense of everything that she’d just learned, and now this of all things, but it’s going to take her a while.

“I should,” he agrees with the barest hint of a smile, once more clapping her on the back. He hesitates before he stands, like he wants to say something else, but instead, he gives an awkward smile and gets to his feet, heading back inside, leaving Charlotte in silence.

Eileen gives her a lift to school the following morning, seething about how Peach got a part-time job and their parents still aren’t happy. It’s conflicting for the older sister, who hates hearing the derisive way her parents refer to Peach as a ‘burger flipper’, while Peach herself had sneered when Eileen had asked about the job, telling her older sister that she was done grovelling at their parents’ feet just to exist, with an implied ‘unlike you’ which had been so uncharacteristic of the usually kind and upbeat Peach that it had sent Eileen spiralling. It was the third day in a row Eileen had been ranting about it, about how she just wanted to support Peach, but that her whole family appeared to be turning on each other.

Charlotte found herself relating to that particular sentiment far too well.

Half their ragtag bunch of lunchtime misfits is notably absent from their usual lunchtime hang out, so while Charlotte spends the forty minutes picking apart her food like she’s trying to deconstruct it atomically, Razzle sits diligently as Eileen carefully and meticulously braids his hair, while he asks if he needs to bring anything, or wear anything special to the drive in that Friday. Charlotte’s not paying them any attention, just letting her gaze roam distractedly essentially until the bell rings, and Eileen pulls the hairband from her own hair to secure Razzle’s braid, before taking off.

“Anybody home in that head of yours, Charlie? The bell’s gone,” Razzle’s offering her his hand where he’s standing, and Charlotte finally returns to reality from her blank, concerned mind, wiping the last few crumbs of her sandwich on her jeans picking up her bag with one hand and taking Razzle’s hand with the other. Today he’s chosen to wear a royal purple collared shirt, several sized too big for him, with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into tight, acid-washed jeans littered with naturally-made holes, his backpack on his back, and a black, corduroy jacket slung over one shoulder; with his newly acquired braid, the whole look is quite fetching, quite -

“You look like a prince,” Charlotte feels rather foolish for even saying it, can feel as the blush rises on her cheeks, but Razzle’s beaming as he pulls her to her feet, and doesn’t let go of her hand for a moment.

“Well then I must be truly lucky to get court a princess like you,” and coming from anyone else, it would have sounded cheesy, or the phrase princess would have been derisive or snide, but he’s sincere, almost painfully so, and Charlotte ducks her head, “not courting,” Razzle corrects quickly, and Charlotte doesn’t think about how her heart sinks at that, despite how they’d talked through this.

“Princess Charlie -” something about the way he says her name always hits her hard, because hearing how it sounds, the reverence with which he says it, the nervousness, she leans in and kisses him quickly, can’t help herself, can’t stop herself. But then she’s leaning back, getting a better grip on her backpack, but - “wait, wait, wait, Charlie, wait -” Razzle, for the barest moment, tightens his grip on her hand, and she’s terrified that she crossed a line, that she’s done something wrong, but she turns back, and he doesn’t seem to be mad or concerned, instead he drops the jacket he’d been holding, gently taking her face in his hands, “can’t spring that on me and get away with it; lemme do it proper.”

i am going to build a new boyfriend out of garbage and dirty feathers. no one else will touch him.

“Did you tell Tommy we were coming here?” Eileen hissed, startling the hell out of Charlotte at the concession stand at the drive-in before the movie began. Charlotte, who had been hovering in line, nervously retucking her nice blouse into her skirt every few minutes, almost jumped out of her skin at her friend’s voice in her ear.

“Yeah, I - why?” Looking around, Charlotte thankfully can’t see Tommy’s shitbox of a car, but it becomes readily apparent the source of Eileen’s frustrations, when she spots a shiny, red sports car parked four cars past where Keanu and his good friend and well known fellow theatre kid Alex Winter were sitting on the hood of Keanu’s car, chatting animatedly with Razzle, who they had been quick to warm to him upon meeting him about twenty minutes ago.

“Charlie!” The name came out as a frustrated noise from between Eileen’s clenched teeth, her eyes glued to Vince Neil’s ostentatious car, and Charlotte looked down for a moment, before adjusting her skirt again and retucking her shirt as she spoke.

“I didn’t know he’d tell Vince; I haven’t spoken to him since yesterday afternoon,” and she hesitates before adding, “we got into this fight and I’ve been trying to figure out how to apologise but I don’t know how, so it kind of slipped my mind, I didn’t know -”

“We’ll talk about you and Tommy later, I promise, but right now I need you to tell me three convincing arguments as to why I shouldn’t pop one of Vince Neil’s fucking tires.” Eileen’s hatred of Vince is perhaps getting out of hand, Charlotte considers, prying Eileen’s vice-like grip from her upper arm, considering for a moment.

“I know you have no qualms about becoming a felon to protect Peach,” Charlotte says with half a smirk.

“Absolutely none,” Eileen agrees without missing a beat, which was both amusing and heartwarming.

“- but your mom would probably pull you out of public school to enrol you in that strict, girls-only, future-nun-school, Our Lady Of Perpetual Sorrow,” Charlotte’s trying so desperately not to smirk, not to give her amusement away at the concept, “and you can say goodbye to any chance you had of ever making out with your co-star on or off stage.”

Eileen turns as red as her hair, but at least she takes a moment to calm down, glancing over her shoulder at the three boys who were waiting for them. Keanu looks over for a moment, catching her gaze, waving and grinning from ear to ear, and Charlotte practically cackles as Eileen’s blush deepens.

“Look, Eileen look,” Charlotte pointed insistently back at the boys, to where Alex had hopped off the hood of Keanu’s car, and was making his way over to the pack of kids Eileen had vaguely gestured to earlier, mentioning that they made up most of the technical theatre department, despite their leather jackets and motorcycles, leaving Razzle and Keanu chattering away, “Alex is going to hang out with the Crew boys, leaving Keanu free to comfort you during the scary movie.”

Eileen takes a deep breath, not even pretending like that wasn’t what she wanted, steeling herself to head back, and ignore Vince Neil’s goddamn car. After a beat, however, she turns to Charlotte, looking altogether stern and collected.

“I know I said you and Razzle could stay in my car, since I’m hanging out with Keanu, but don’t have sex in there -”

“What?!”

“Don’t have sex with Razzle in my car,” Eileen practically ordered, and Charlotte nervously looked to the guy ahead of her in line. He looked back at her, between the two girls, then thankfully stepped up to the counter without a word.

“I wasn’t planning on it!”

“Well you also weren’t planning on being make out buddies after getting drunk and being the gross PDA couple at Heather’s party,” Eileen sniped back, “listen, I just want Peach to be able to sit in my car without either of your bare asses having touched any of the seats.”

“I won’t let either of our bare asses touch the seat,” Charlotte agreed, mortified.

“And no stains -”

“Eileen!” Charlotte all but screeches, right as the messages before the movie started playing.

“Eileen, the charming Mister Reeves wants a word with you,” Razzle’s voice joins them just moments before Charlotte’s pretty sure she would have expired from embarrassment, and at the mere mention of Keanu, Eileen relaxes a little. All three of them glance over to Keanu’s car, to see the man himself leaning against his windshield, cigarette idle in one hand as he watches the first of the preview trailers. As much as he makes gestures like he’s about to take a drag, the cigarette never quite makes it to his lips before he extends his arm out beside him again, like he’s going through the motions without really following through. Eileen, as if drawn to him by a spell, practically floats away.

“She’s a strange one,” he says fondly, though Charlotte kindly doesn’t point out the hypocrisy in his words, “Keanu and Alex act like she’s some aloof, inscrutable woman; weren’t sure we were talking about the same woman,” he huffed a laugh, much to Charlotte’s disbelief.

“Eileen... she is an aloof, inscrutable woman, you just happen to live with her arch nemesis, and- you’re- we’re- you know, we’re...” Charlotte gestured between herself and Razzle, flushing, as his smile widened, “and you know, I’m her best friend.”

“Guys, are you buying food or what?” The concierge asks; a tired-looking kid Charlotte recognises from Tommy’s year. She hops forward, ordering food, and waiting for it to be prepared, all while standing by Razzle’s side, his chin on her should as they watch the preview trailers. He’s behind her, warm and solid and grounding, which is exactly what she needs as her cousin’s beat-up excuse of a car screeches into the lot, almost spraying gravel thanks to his sharp turn into the first available space.

“Oh god, oh fucking hell,” Charlotte breathes, clenching her eyes tightly shut, “if you see a blonde-haired, six-foot stick-insect, who looks like he’d cheat on his girlfriend,” she starts, whole face scrunching with frustration, “and-or Nikki fucking Sixx, well, that would be about right; that feels like how tonight would go,” she lets out a long, frustrated breath, and she feels Razzle lift his chin from her shoulder right as he makes a noise of confusion.

“Tommy just arrived,” she clarified.

“Oh?”

“And we kind of got into an argument yesterday.”

“Oh.”

Charlotte’s name is called and she collects the bucket of popcorn she’d ordered for the pair of them, and Razzle picks up their drinks, heading back to the car as the movie opens.

“You wanna talk about whatever’s going on with you and that Drummer Boy?” Razzle asks as they’re settling in the back seat together. Charlotte’s detaching the front seat’s headrests with possibly too much vigour, but declines, despite the frustration written all over her face. Razzle keeps a careful hold on the drinks that he’d thought were safe to balance on the centre console as Charlotte foisted herself over the back seat to pull the blankets she’d packed from the trunk.

“You sure?” Razzle tried again, still with one hand nervously keeping the drinks in place, the other firmly holding their bucket of popcorn out of harm’s way. With a blanket securely bundled in her arms, Charlotte gives him a flat look, that quickly disappears in the face of his genuine concern.

“No, Razz,” she sighed, “I’m just mad at myself for letting this, like, fester, you know? I should have apologised sooner,” she huffs a sigh, unfurling the blanket with far more care now, draping it across both of their laps.

“You’ve a good heart, Miss Lee,” Razzle assures her, but Charlotte’s face scrunches reflexively at the nickname, having only ever associated it with Nikki Sixx’s dreadful attempts to hit on her.

“Thanks, but please don’t call me that,” Charlotte gives a strained little smile, but Razzle nods and takes it in stride, finally getting himself comfortable and sitting back against the seat, one arm draped across the back, the other holding the popcorn in his lap.

“No worries, Love; I could call you Charlie, but I always thought it sounded a bit weird coming from me,” Razzle is rambling as Charlotte settles against him, tucking herself up close to him, “had a mate back home called Charlie, but short for Charles; absolute cockhead,” he clicks his tongue as Charlotte can’t help but giggle, “I could always keep just calling you Love, but it’s not as personal, you know? And Charlotte... it’s a pretty name, but it would be like if you started calling me Nicholas, be a bit weird, don’t ya think?” He mused, and Charlotte’s eyes drifted from the opening scene of the movie, where a menacing looking knife-glove was being created, to Razzle’s face as he chattered away.

“I could keep calling you Princess Charlie,” as he says that, he looks to her, and seems a little startled to see her looking back at him, “like the other day,” his voice is softer, eyes wide, roaming her face, as if trying to capture her fond expression in his memory forever.

“You wouldn’t imagine your friend Charlie from back home a tiara?” Charlotte’s voice is amused, as is her expression, and Razzle’s eyes crease in the corners as he smiles; his eyes as so blue, so honest.

“You’d be the only Princess Charlie in my life,” he assures, giving her shoulder a squeeze where his arm is wrapped around her, and Charlotte doesn’t even think about how they’re less than a minute into the movie before she’s kissing him.

At least it gets her to stop thinking about Tommy.

Honestly, it gets her to stop thinking about everyone and everything that isn’t Razzle in this car in this moment, which is fine for her, because her life is somehow currently a stupid, complicated mess of people and emotions, and Razzle is nice to her, and a damn good kisser, and gentle, and his hands are warm -

“Miss Lee, does the Declaration of Independence mean nothing to you?” Comes shouted through the wound-up window of the car, startling Charlotte, who’s been in Razzle’s lap with his lips on her neck, so much that she jumped, smacking the back of her head into the roof of the car. Razzle reached out for her, expression concerned and lips kiss-bruised, as Charlotte held her head, wincing. Looking to the window, however, she could see Nikki Sixx pressing his face to the glass, looking altogether unsightly, with Lola a few feet behind him, drawing something in the gravel with the toe of her shoe.

Assholes!

“I’m gonna kill him,” Charlotte says with deadly calm the moment she understands the situation, though Razzle seems to have anticipated this, and has his hands on her thighs, keeping her secure in his firm grip.

“No,” Razzle says, voice equally as calm, his gaze focused on Charlotte, and not on Nikki who had put his open mouth on the window, puffed out his cheeks, and proceeded to lick the glass. Charlotte scrunches her expression for a moment, internal debate raging between her desire to stay in the car with Razzle, and her need to beat the ever-loving shit out of Nikki Sixx for being a smartass.

“I’m gonna crack the window and inch and tell him to fuck off,” Charlotte says, looking back to Razzle, who was wearing an expression of faint amusement, and his grip became a little less firm. Reaching over, she wound down the window an inch. Immediately, Nikki looked through the gap, cheek still pressed to the window as his gaze darted around the cabin of the car, no longer obscured by the window tint.

“I’m surprised you know what the Declaration of Independence is,” Charlotte said, tone icy as she moved to sit next to Razzle.

“Honestly I stole that line from Lola,” Nikki admitted, and upon hearing her name, even faintly, Lola joins them, thankfully not pressing herself to the window, instead standing close to Nikki, her hip by his, hands in her jacket pockets.

“Were they doing it?” Lola asks far too casually, almost too quiet for Charlotte and Razzle to hear, though they do, and both blush, even as Nikki pulls back, making a face.

“No,” Charlotte calls back, and Lola’s expression turns smug as she holds out her hand, making a ‘hand it over’ gesture to Nikki, only for him to begrudgingly hand over a five dollar note.

“Shoulda waited ‘til the end of the movie to ask,” Lola’s grin stretched wider, even as Charlotte tried to splutter a protest, and Razzle had to press his face against her shoulder to muffle his laugh at the whole situation.

“Why are you assholes here?” Charlotte hissed; strangely, Lola’s expression fell, and she stepped back again, adding more to her gravel drawing with her shoe, not looking at the car.

“We’re at the drive in because I’ve heard this is a good movie,” Nikki goes back to staring at them through the inch crack in the window, “and we’re here-” his tone turns proud while his smile turns sharp as he taps his nail against the glass, “because we’re trying to give Tommy and Heather privacy,” he all but sings. There’s... a lot to unpack there, however before Charlotte can process any of it, Lola grab’s Nikki by the elbow, pulling him away.

“Come on, I didn’t take a night off to talk to people I can see every day, did you bring weed or not?” She insisted, tone frustrated leading him towards the concierge stand. Something about it had Charlotte’s heart sinking, even as Razzle’s still chuckling and confused about what was going on, Charlotte’s heart was sinking.

Tommy had driven Nikki and Lola - and Heather? What? - to the drive in. Tommy and Lola had almost definitely spoken about the fight Charlotte and Tommy had had, which means Lola almost definitely knew what Charlotte had said.

“Everything okay, Princess?” Razzle had asked gently, his arm around her once more as Charlotte had buried her face in her hands.

“My whole life is fucked,” Charlotte muttered, and Razzle pulled her in close to him. Her legs bridge over his thighs, and he’s holding her close with both arms, keeping her warm and secure, and Charlotte takes a moment, then another, then a third, to take comfort.

She’s going to miss this. Going to miss him. Fuck, she can’t think like that, can’t keep reminding herself of the time limit on their friendship, the reason she’s scared to call it anything more.

Everything is fucked, but this one moment, how Razzle was holding her close, devoid of it’s context, it was pretty damn great.

a friend will help you move. a best friend will help you move bodies. but if you have to move your best friend's body, you're on your own

Charlotte goes to see Tommy on Saturday morning, but when she gets there, he’s not home.

“He’s at a movie~ with a girl~!” Athena sings, when Charlotte asks, and Charlotte, confused and concerned, looked to her aunt, Tommy’s mother, who gave a kind smile and nod of confirmation.

“He was so nervous and excited, spent a long time doing his hair just right,” she giggled fondly, pride in her voice, but Charlotte’s heart was in her throat. Had what she said somehow guilted Lola into dating her cousin? That could only end badly for both of them, oh fuck -

Except when she bursts into Leo’s at eleven, after most of the breakfast diners had vacated, and the lunch rush was still about half an hour away, Lola was standing behind the counter... with Peach? Teaching her how to fold silverware in napkins correctly?

“Do you know... do know that thing where you fold it into a swan?” Peach asks, giggling, right as one of the other kind-faced staff members approaches Charlotte and asks her how many people she’d like a table for. Lola instinctually looks to the door, and Peach catches on a moment later, and suddenly both girls behind the counter are frowning in Charlotte’s direction. Lola mutters something to Peach that’s too quiet for Charlotte to hear, and the younger redhead immediately takes the silverware they’ve already wrapped, going around and dispensing it amongst each table’s silverware holder. Peach is in uniform.

“I just...” Charlotte’s voice is soft, while her gaze is locked with Lola’s, brushing past the host who’d greeted her, “I need to talk to Lola.” The host looks over his shoulder at Lola, who looks his way for the barest moment and gives half a shrug. The kid backs off, looking past Charlotte to the street outside to see if anyone else was coming in after her, and upon seeing no-one, he heads back to the counter.

“Hey Peach,” Charlotte says as the redhead slides past her to get to another table. Peach doesn’t even look at her when she gives a flat greeting in response.

“How can I help you?” Lola’s painfully sweet customer-service voice hurts more than any sarcastic remark she could have come up with, and it’s eating Charlotte alive to know what Tommy told her, what Lola thinks Charlotte thinks of her to make her act so hostile. The way she’s smiling so widely coupled with her dead-eyed stare is unnerving.

“Keola!” It comes as a shock when a firm voice comes from the kitchen, and Lola practically jumps from her skin. Looking to the source, Charlotte sees the face of the man she’s only ever seen the back of in the kitchen, taller than anyone else in the restaurant, and he looks like Lola.

“What?” Lola hisses, surprising Charlotte, and the man looks to Charlotte, giving her a warm, friendly smile, before he answers.

“If you need to talk to,” and the man pauses, tipping his head a little as he looks to Charlotte, “Charlie?” And Charlotte, kind of confused and nervous as to how he knows her name, nods in confirmation, “you can take your break, okay? Water, fresh air, outside -” and without waiting for a confirmation, he calls the kid who had greeted Charlotte to come and take Lola’s place at the counter, as Lola begrudgingly grabs a bottle of water from beneath the counter, and storms out from behind the counter, past Charlotte to the door.

Charlotte, a little terrified, looks to the man, who gives another bright smile.

“Sorry we haven’t properly met, I’m Leo, glad to finally meet you, Charlie,” and immediately everything makes total and complete sense, and Charlotte nervously greets him, and takes off after Lola, who had disappeared down the street.

#nikki sixx #Razzle Dingley #Tommy Lee #mick mars #the dirt #motley crue #nikki sixx x oc #razzle dingley x oc #tommy lee x oc #dirtbags #the dirt imagine #the angry lizard writes

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shinhatigf · 3 years

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okay so I do have an anakin fix it au floating around in my brain in which revenge of the sith goes as well as it possibly could BUT that's not the important part of this post the IMPORTANT part is what happens to maul in this au. (disclaimer: all I know about maul's backstory is from watching the clone wars and reading his wookiepedia page so some of this might be inaccurate. bear with me)

okay so because order 66 didn't happen, maul is brought before the council. he was sith so the council would want to deal with him personally

I think with palpatine dead (fully and completely 100% dead no take backs) the influence of the dark side everywhere would be lessened. everyone would feel a lot clearer, happier, brighter, like a dark cloud had been lifted from their mind. this would include maul.

however, for maul, diving deep into the dark side has been something of a coping mechanism. amassing as much power as possible and giving yourself over to this dark higher power means you don't have the contemplate the fact that you were stolen from your family and home world and fed incredibly damaging rhetoric from the man who 1) let you die 2) immediately upon finding out you were still alive electrocuted the fuck out of you and killed the last part of your family and (imo) the only person you ever truly loved

so maul upon arriving to the jedi council, while slightly less affected by the dark side, is still full of pure rage, hate, and a clusterfuck of other emotions brought about by thinking about the jedi. he's a whole disaster

okay this is going to get very very long I'm going to put a read more here

I imagine some in the council would like to kill or exile him and be done with it, but after the inherent trauma of the clone wars and seeing how far separated from their ideals the jedi order has become, they'd show him mercy. this part may not necessarily make 100% sense but shut up this is the good things for maul au maul gets good things

therefore, the council would vote in favor of rehabilitation. what I imagine this would look like is maul would be heavily guarded and watched, and whenever possible he would be visited by jedi masters (and masters ONLY. they're not dumb)

maul gets his own quarters, which are big enough not to be stifling or tiny but small enough to still fit in a jedi temple where they value austerity and forsaking possessions. they would want to give maul as much freedom as possible while making sure he couldn't be a threat to anyone around him, which would mean he doesn't have much freedom at all. he's fed and watered and visited by at least one jedi master a day. these visits are usually someone meditating and trying to rehabilitate maul's mind while not being openly invading, rather guiding maul's broken mind into its natural state and removing palpatine's influence. these visits are also good old fashioned therapy (maul desperately needs to talk some shit out)

it would take a very very very long time but with guided meditation and constant consistent kindness and understanding shown to him by the jedi maul would start to heal. one of the major things that palpatine forcibly shoved into his brain is a distrust and particular hatred for the jedi, but after spending so many years in their care and with constant (almost annoying) understanding that belief system would start to break down.

it would start small. like one day maybe instead of feeling rage and anger around savage's death he feels sadness because for the first time he's in an environment where he has the space to breathe and remember his brother

I think once maul has actually started to improve a little bit and moved past his rage and murder phase that's when obi-wan would visit him. which would definitely bring back some rage and murder but also it would bring maul some closure. I'd imagine they'd both need some sort of closure, considering maul killed qui gon and obi-wan essentially killed him. but obi-wan saying something like "I forgive you. I'm not your enemy." that might throw a wrench into maul's thinking

so over time, maul is becoming less and less emotionally tumultuous. he's in a stable environment in which a set group of people visit him daily solely for the purpose of rehabilitating him, both through the force and just regular conversation as equals. eventually, after enough time in this environment, whoever maul is beneath the rage and pain and the dark side would emerge

this is the side of maul that I wrote this for. this is why he's one of my favorites.

maul is deeply intelligent, and rather calculating. while he usually forgoes rational thought to scream "kenOBIIIIIII" into the night he's very good at assessing a situation and how to get the best possible outcome. he feels things very deeply but he's incredibly bad at naming exactly what his feelings are and he's not very good at reading the emotions of others. I think a flaw of his is that he really forgets to take emotions into account, while for the jedi that's kind of their whole thing. (yeah the jedi are stereotyped as unfeeling warriors but that's not true at all, they acknowledge and release their feelings into the force. for them their feelings are the force.)

I think one day when maul is beyond resisting his existence at the jedi temple, when he slowly realizes "hey my life sucks a whole lot less than before" he manages to actually solve a problem for one of the masters who visits him regularly and has become the closest thing he can really have to a friend. said master (maybe kit fisto just because I like kit fisto) rants about a problem or a mission that they're having and maul just goes "well it's obvious, really." and manages to solve the problem like that by nature of his unique perspective.

and after a looong amount of time has passed, maul's role shifts from enemy, victim, and a patient to being a voice of rationality, a problem-solver, and someone to rant to when the whole jedi master thing gets to be A Lot™

seriously though I cannot stress how long it would take for maul to heal and get to this point. MINIMUM five years.

eventually maul and some people he's forged friendships with petition the council to allow him to have some more freedom. while extremely hesitant, without palps clouding their vision they could much more clearly see maul's mental state and what sort of danger he would pose to the jedi, and they would let him move freely about the temple

okay here's my favorite part of this whole thing. maul is a fucking nerd. he discovers the jedi library and goes insane. maul would read so many books about so many different things because he's interested in everything and he'd want to build his knowledge in a myriad of subjects. he would spend hours upon hours in the jedi library just reading every single thing in there. he'd beg one of the masters to let him access the "forbidden knowledge" just because it's knowledge and he wants it. and if that didn't work he'd find a way to break in (the forbidden knowledge did not disappoint).

I also think maul would love to spar with lightsabers and stuff. he'd know techniques the jedi wouldn't, and so in friendly spars with people he'd managed to befriend, he'd actually give them a fight and teach them something, while also learning new techniques from the jedi

I think maul would consider becoming a jedi for a brief second. he's happier here than he's probably ever been, finally free from palpatine's influence and in a healthy environment. but he knows it's not his path.

after spending a long time living at the jedi temple, having carved out something of a life for himself, made friends for the first time in his life, having finally achieved emotional stability, he approaches the order on his own. they expect, after having been long used to his presence, for him to ask to be a jedi. but he comes with an unexpected proposal.

maul asks to leave the jedi temple to go home to dathomir, to see what had become of his family and of the nightbrothers. he's much much more stable than he was, but he still has burning questions that palpatine would never have let him find the answers to. and he genuinely does want to get there, eventually. but he also wants to learn more about the force that the jedi wouldn't teach him, to learn more about the sith.

his departure is surprisingly more emotional than he was expecting. the jedi temple was the first place he'd ever actually felt safe, that he'd been allowed to just exist. he would miss it.

armed with all the knowledge in the jedi temple, he searches for knowledge the jedi wouldn't have access to. he finds the remains of mortis, and researches the mortis gods. he spends a period of time wandering around like batman crushing the people he doesn't particularly like (usually people objectively morally horrible. he spent years with the jedi he has ✨morals✨ now). he even made his way to ilum, and found two crystals to forge a new double-bladed lightsaber. (the blades are yellow.)

maul would also study ancient sith texts, and spend a lot of time investigating old sith temples (like the one on malachor). however, he doesn't have the same burning desire to seize the power for himself anymore. it's an odd feeling.

eventually he does return home to dathomir to find the genocide of the nightsisters (with only one nightsister, merrin, remaining) and the nightbrothers in disarray after the loss of the dictatorial government they'd lived under for generations. maul ends up taking over a la mandalore (but with a lot less murder and awfulness. ✨morals✨)

what I'd love to see is maul founding an opposite sort of order to the jedi. not necessarily the sith, since the sith treated him horribly and destroyed his entire life, but i think maul would believe that for the force to truly be in balance, you couldn't try to eradicate an entire half of it from the galaxy. I would love to see maul found an order of dark side force users that teaches about how to use the dark side, how to avoid total corruption, and the correct channels for the power you control.

maul would be a very effective teacher in the dark side because of how much experience he has with it. he experienced the absolute worst of the dark side, the total corruption and loss of self, but he also used the dark side to save the nightbrothers from destroying themselves after the loss of the nightsisters and used his power to keep them together and safe (not to mention the period of time with Batman Maul where he used the dark side to help people).

also I would love to see the new generation of jedi and the new generation of dark side users not to be in opposition for once. by nature of maul being rehabilitated by the jedi, he would teach about them and their teachings with a modicum of respect, and the two orders would be seen as two sides of the same coin. twins, almost.

maul would not be a child snatcher, he was child snatched. the dark side is different from the light in that its always there. it comes much more naturally to force users, and unlike the jedi, it wouldn't require you to join from a ridiculously young age. his order is always known and always open to any force user who wishes to learn about the force.

maul's life comes to an end peacefully, at his home on dathomir, having built a new society for the nightbrothers and a new order for users of the dark side.

#word count: 1.9k #holy wow i did not know i had that many words in me about maul #here's my good things for maul au #in which order 66 did not happen #maul #revenge of the sith #the prequels #the clone wars #star wars #darth maul #jedi #sith #meta #ryn dot text #good things for maul au #ryn dot fic

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