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uwusenpaiuwu · 3 years

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Sleepovers At The Baji Household feat. A Fed-Up Chifuyu

Summary: Chifuyu just wants to sleep, man, but Baji wants to be a jealous crackhead at 2 AM.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Note(s): I had a little free time and wrote this. So, please enjoy! ALSO, to the anon that sent me a request a few days ago, I saw it and have it filed on my to-do list!!! I will definitely get to it as soon as I get a break in my schedule :)

"Chifuyu, ya wanna see some real discrimination?"

No. No, Chifuyu does not want to see what Baji means by 'real discrimination.'

Does he tell him that, though?

Yes, actually, because it's 2 in the fucking morning and, as much as he respects the other boy, he wouldn't put it past himself to smother him with a pillow after having his dream of cuddling with a sea of puppies suddenly destroyed.

Unfortunately for his sanity, Baji either doesn't hear him or, more likely than not, doesn't give a fuck, because he's already flopping onto his belly and whipping out his phone to do God knows what.

The dial tone that sounds from the speaker a few seconds later makes Chifuyu cringe, especially since it's only ever been a calm silence fit for a good night's sleep prior to Baji bulldozing through it with his absurd question. (At the very least, he's thankful that the latter has half a mind to keep the brightness on the lowest setting, otherwise, Chifuyu would have had to fight.)

On the far end of the row of carefully-laid futons, you shift in your sleep, eyebrows furrowing together at the noise. Rotating onto your side, you unconsciously reach for Baji, and just when he thinks you're being cute and trying to cuddle him, you smack him in the head.

Baji doesn't flinch, instead, takes his pillow and shoves it in your grasp to keep your unconscious self occupied, so that he can focus on getting through to the person who reuses to pick up (understandably so).

Releasing a frustrated groan after being redirected to voice mail for the fifth time, he dials the number again, muttering an impatient, "Pick up already."

Chifuyu feels sorry for the poor soul on the other end. He would've blocked someone following the first call, because again, it's-

The blond has to squint his eyes up at the digital clock on Baji's nightstand, which confirms that it's already 2:22 A.M, further solidifying the fact that he shouldn't be awake right now. And this also applies to the ever persistent first division captain, who insists on bothering who Chifuyu soon discovers is Mikey from the contact ID that flashes across the screen.

Why Baji is so keen on bothering him is a question he doesn't have the mental capacity to ponder over. The most energy he'll expend is to listen in when the call miraculously connects.

"What...?" comes a muffled voice from the receiver, tone laced in an irked grogginess birthed from a slumber rudely interrupted.

There's an absurdly loud, almost angry, roar of Mikey's name, one that has Chifuyu curling in on himself in a futile attempt to escape a sound that should be illegal at this hour.

But you know what else should be illegal?

The fucking whiplash Chifuyu gets when Baji's deep voice takes an abrupt 180°, switching from its normal gruffness to a squeaky, ear-piercing shrill as he screams, "I love you, love you, love you! Do you love me, too, Mikey-kyun~♡?!"

The room is dead silent.

Not a word. Not a murmur. Not a breath.

Just pure, unadulterated silence as both Chifuyu and Mikey process the words that hang in the air, permeating it with a goosebumps-inducing eeriness from having heard such a...a girly, overtly cutesy screech from Baji.

Then-

"What the fuck? He hung on me!"

Chifuyu opens his mouth, thinks better of reacting to the cursed scene he had the misfortune of bearing witness to, and promptly closes it.

Other people may have sleep paralysis demons.

But Chifuyu?

Chifuyu has Baji.

With both hands partially raised in prayer, he begs for the shenanigans to be over and done with.

They are not.

While his eyes remain closed in a last ditch effort to convince himself that it's all a bad dream, he hears a lot of grumbling happening on your side of the room, courtesy of Baji, who's scrambling around in search of...something. One quick peek reveals him fiddling with a phone - yours, to be exact, as evidenced by the distinctive phone charm of your favorite anime character hanging from it.

"(Y/n), wake up for a second," he hears him whisper. It takes a bit of prompting, until he's able to successfully rouse you enough from sleep to elicit any kind of response, which is, essentially, nothing short of an incoherent, slurred mess. Although, Chifuyu is pretty damn certain he heard you call Baji a 'dickhead' for the trouble.

Unperturbed, he continues shaking your limp form, coaxing you into wakefulness with, "Repeat what I tell you, and I'll let you go back to asleep. Deal?"

You squint your eyes at him, only able to make out a vague outline of his visage in the lightless room. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die," he automatically responds with the same phrase he's become accustomed to saying whenever you two made a promise, something done purely out of habit, formed when the two of you were just kids and he wanted to get you to do something absolutely ridiculous either for him or with him. And just 'cause he knows you're more susceptible to complying if he does it, he also interlocks his pinky with yours.

"...Fine."

The approval is his cue to proceed, and it's as he's putting the phone on speaker that he turns back to a regretfully wide awake Chifuyu, mouthing a wordless, 'Watch.'

The phone rings, loud and clear, precisely once and only once.

"(Y/n), what's wrong?" It's important to note that even though Mikey still sounds tired as hell, his tone is much lighter, much happier really, than when it was Baji, which is an offense in itself to the said teen that's off to the side, attentively listening to the conversation unfold.

Then, it strikes Chifuyu, what Baji is trying to do, and fuck does it give him an instant headache.

Meanwhile, your mouth morphs into the dopiest of smiles with the pleasant surprise of hearing your boyfriend's voice, chest instantly overtaken by a warm fuzziness that never fails to make an appearance whenever he's involved. Sappy, you know, but it's true!

A light but firm nudge to your shoulder reminds you of your mission. It's too bad that, teetering along the edge of sleep as you are, the words Baji whispers are barely repeated correctly.

The initial phrase from before, the one Baji greeted Mikey with, is shortened to a simple, "You wuv I...?"

But, without missing a beat, you receive Mikey's confident reply of, "Mhm... I wuv you a lot."

There's a sleepy giggle then - a fucking giggle - before your voices drop to sweet whispers that the third and fourth wheels can't fully comprehend from where they are.

"Where the fuck was my 'I wuv you,' huh?!" Baji whisper-shouts, considerate of your conversation even when ranting and raving. "Shit, I would've taken a simple 'I love you,' too! I've known that bastard way longer than (Y/n), and this is what I get?!"

Okay. Toman's president answers his boyfriend's late night calls faster than he does anyone else's and openly expresses his love for him. So what? Chifuyu wouldn't exactly call it 'discrimination,' per se. 'Favoritism,' maybe if you wanna stretch it, but using as strong a word as discrimination, especially taking into account you two are dating; it's normal? Nah.

"You wanna say 'bye' to them? Mm. Baji and Chifuyu." A pause. "Fuyu, Mikey says 'bye.'"

"Bye, Mikey-kun."

The other person in the room waits, and waits, and waits, and when it's clear that there is no intention to address his presence whatsoever, Baji turns to Chifuyu with an almost scandalized expression, making wild gesticulations with his hands, clearly distressed. "See?!"

Blank blue eyes stare back at him, unblinking. Honestly, it's a common occurrence - Baji spiraling in a nonsensical rage - so it's easy for Chifuyu to block out the muted, jealousy-driven temper tantrum as he takes his pillow in both hands, raises it as high as he can, and-

Sigh.

-lets it flop right back onto his face.

He can't suffocate Baji. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't. After all, they're best buds, meaning he has an obligation to put up with shit like this once in a while. (Plus, he'd probably get his ass kicked before he succeeds anyway. Totally not worth the beating.)

"Did you hear? Mikey said he wuvs me," he hears you drawl dreamily as soon as you hang up, sounding very close to clocking back out for the night.

"Yeah, yeah. Cute shit. Happy for ya, dude," Baji huffs. Thankfully, he sounds like he's in a similar state to yours, if the yawn that follows his sarcastic comment is anything to go by.

"...He soooo ignored you."

That warrants a punishing punch to the arm, dulled only slightly by the combination of the thick quilt you're swaddled in and the raven-haired boy's fatigue.

"I'll fucking throw you out right now, (Y/n). Don't test me."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Won't."

"Will."

The conversation gradually dies down shortly after, the exhaustion that took its sweet time getting to both of you having reached its peak with the help of the childish bickering. It takes 10 minutes, maybe 15, before two sets of light snores fill the room.

Finally.

Let it be known that there is a lesson to be learned from tonight's events. Really, there is. Y'know, something along the lines of 'Don't agree to a sleepover with Baji, if you plan on actually sleeping,' or whatever.

Alas, Chifuyu's consciousness fades before he realizes what it is.

~~~

"Mikey, be honest. Who do you love more? Me or-?"

"(Y/n)."

"But-"

(Y/n)."

"I-"

"(Y/n)."

Baji is only momentarily discouraged, sharp eyes glaring at the blond that lays his head on your lap after hi-fiving you. He didn't want to do this, but he's left with no choice.

"(Y/n) or Babu?"

From the way Mikey stiffens up, refusing to look at either him or you in the eyes, Baji knows he has him right where he wants him, has him torn between a cute face or a sweet ride.

"Oi! Don't pretend to be asleep! Answer the damn question! OI!"

(After hours of serious contemplation - even though you told him it doesn't particularly matter - it's revealed that, of course, Mikey loves you more. Babu just happens to trail behind as a very close second.)

#mikey x male reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x male reader #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjirou x male reader #sano manjirou x reader #sano manjiro #sano manjirou #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #baji keisuke #chifuyu matsuno

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halloweenhoneylover · 4 years

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the struggle bus

summary: spencer is the kindest human alive, which makes things tough for the reader :/ (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5.3k (a doozy kinda!)

warnings: i guess angst, but really just idiots in love (my fav trope). reader is kind of a hot mess. also, mention of overdose via multivitamin.

author’s note: hi, it’s been approx 4000 years since i last posted, but it’s just because i have no concept of ‘efficiency’ or ‘speed.’ but it’s okay. some of this is good, some of this is eh, make of that what you will. also, this is supposed to be #funny sometimes so uhhhh, keep that in mind. ALSO, the title is majorly stupid, but it was the title of the google doc, and i couldn’t think of anything else......anyways, love u!

For once, the bullpen was quiet.

Spencer was immersed in some case file, doing some work that you should have probably been doing as well, but it was approaching the late hours of the night, and you would barely be able to keep your eyes open if you came even close to trying to read or write. Your desks were situated against each other, so you shifted your gaze across the small divider to him. His sharp features were softened in the lamplight, a sight that tugged on your heartstrings, and you took a moment to just look at him. Most everyone else was gone or was too focused on getting their work done to pay attention to your reverie. Derek, if he were here, would dub you as ‘lovesick’ and shoot mischievous smirks and wiggling eyebrows in your direction, but luckily for you, he was not. Twisting carelessly in your chair with your feet propped on the desk, you chewed absentmindedly on a pen, lost deep in thought. “Hey, Spencer?”

“Yeah?” He continued scribbling on the file without so much as a glance towards you, but that was perfectly fine by you, more time for not-creepy staring.

“How many of my vitamins do you think I could eat before I died?”

At this, he furrowed his brow and neatly laid his pen down.

“That depends on what vitamin you’re taking. If you’re talking about iron supplements, the limit is somewhere around 20mg of elemental iron per kilogram of body weight. Any more than that will have incredibly unpleasant side effects like abdominal pain, persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, and coma. However, if you’re talking about Vitamin C, it’s virtually impossible to overdose, but you might get a bad headache if you supersede 2000 mg.”

“Okay, what about my gummy vitamins?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “While it still depends on what vitamins are included, eating a whole bottle of your typical multivitamin could easily result in death.”

You mulled this over. “So, I should definitely not go home and eat the rest of my gummy vitamins tonight?”

Spencer chuckled, “I’m not a medical doctor, but yes, I’d recommend that you don’t do that.”

Tossing your head back and letting out a small groan, you protested, “But Spencer, my gummy vitamins taste so good! And I have no food at home, so I guess I either die by overdose on gummy multivitamins or starvation.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your melodrama. It could be 12:06 in the morning, and you could still somehow make him laugh. He was starting to understand that he was in too deep, but he also had the startling realization that he didn’t mind drowning if it was in you.

“You’ve got quite the predicament on your hands there, (Y/N). Maybe you should go grocery shopping with me the next time I suggest it, so you don’t end up in this situation again.”

“Oh my god, dude!” you moaned. “I told you I was actually busy; I had to take Oscar to the vet for his vaccines! I try to be a good mother to my dog, and you know I’m not an anti-vaxxer. I’d never decline time with my favorite guy without a good reason.”

Spencer’s heart was doing somersaults at the thought of him being your favorite guy. He’d won plenty of awards and medals in his lifetime, but somehow, none of those measured up to the accomplishment of being your favorite. Pride and butterflies boiled in his stomach.

“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”

You snorted, “I appreciate your unmatched benevolence, Dr. Reid.” Locking eyes with him, you tried to dampen the lava flow of heat in your chest that erupted when he looked at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen, but you failed miserably. You had to clear your throat and look away; it was becoming all too much. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the restroom. Don’t leave without me!”

As you dashed away, a thought crossed Spencer’s mind, and he stood up and set off down the opposite hallway.

You returned a few minutes later to an empty bullpen which made you frown, and your heart sank. You had thought he was going to wait, but guess not. Sighing, you tried to not let it sting too badly when you noticed a light on in JJ’s office. You knocked and pushed the already ajar door with a quick hello? before being met with an exhausted-looking JJ.

“Hey, (Y/N). I thought everyone had left by now.”

“Nope, not quite yet,” you replied, offering a weak smile. JJ noticed and wrote it off as fatigue. “You didn’t happen to see Spencer leave a couple minutes ago, did you?”

“Uh, no, I thought he’d gone too.”

“Hm, okay, thanks anyway!”

You prepared to leave, but she stopped you, cocking her head. “Why do you ask? Is he still here?”

Leaning your head against the doorframe, you sighed. “I’m not sure. He was here when I went to the bathroom, but he wasn’t at his desk when I came back. I’m a little disappointed. We always walk out together because we’re both afraid of the parking garage at night.”

A grin simmered on JJ’s face at that fact. “Well, I could walk you out if you’d like?”

“Nah, that’s okay; I don’t want to bother you.”

There was something behind JJ’s eyes you couldn’t identify as she replied, “Alright, then. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She definitely wasn’t thinking about how you didn’t want her intruding on a you-and-Spencer tradition. Not that she minded! She’d been rooting for you both since the minute you’d stepped into the BAU, and Spencer had looked like he was about ready to melt into the floor at the sight of such a pretty girl.

“Thanks, Jayje.”

Dragging your feet a little, you made your way back to your desk to gather your things, trying to fend off the disappointment. You had gotten your jacket on and were about to pick up your bag when you heard a (Y/N)! from down the hall. Well, that was certainly not JJ. Hesitantly, you called out, “Spencer?”

He finally emerged with his arms loaded with...something, you couldn’t discern what in the dim light. His face lit up like the Vegas strip when he saw you. “(Y/N)! I didn’t want you starving or eating all of your vitamins, so I went down to the vending machine and got you a couple snacks!” Arriving at his desk, he dropped the various bags and packets on his desk, and your eyes widened immensely.

“A couple? Dude, did you buy out the whole machine?”

Slightly breathless from his quick jog back, he waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. And hey, look!” He picked up a bag. “Fruit snacks! Just like your vitamins, but without the part where you get really sick.”

You were astonished, to say the least. And minorly speechless too, as evidenced by your mouth that was gaping like a fish. “Spencer...this is so nice. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

At that, your face nearly split in two, and he mirrored your grin. You thought you might pass out at his kindness, and you knew you’d be thinking about this every day for the next two weeks at least. Your expression then turned mischievous, as you tried to tamp down all of the warmth bubbling in your stomach. “Do you want to help me try to fit all this in my bag?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

———

Garcia had been practicing her ukulele peacefully when she got the call. (Well, ‘peacefully’ might have been a stretch as she had threatened to smash the object on her coffee table when she simply could not get the finger picking pattern she’d practiced for what seemed like hours, but it was supposed to be a relaxing hobby, so yes, it was peaceful.) Huffing a sigh of relief when the caller ID said [(Y/N/N)!!] with the longest stream of heart emojis and not [hotch >:( ], she picked up with her usual air of cheer. “What can I do ya for, my loveliest, most bewitching—”

She was cut off abruptly by the sounds of your horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, and her brows furrowed in concern. “Oh no, my sweet! What’s wrong?” She had to wait a few moments for your tears to calm (somewhat) while you tried to wrangle in your breath, so you could form some sort of sentence.

“Penny!”—gasp—“Oh my God,”—hiccup—“it looks so bad!” With your last word, you tumbled into incoherent bawling once again.

“Dear, what looks so bad?” She held her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she began to gather up her things. Whatever was wrong, it was clear you needed some good, old-fashioned Garcia TLC, and she was ready to give it.

The sniffling subsided minorly, and you choked out, “Remember when we were talking the other day, and I mentioned that my hair had gotten a little too long for my liking?” Oh no, Garcia could see where this was going. “Well, I figured I’d spend our evening off getting my hair cut, and I went to that new hairdresser, and oh Penelope, it looks awful. I don’t think I can ever go out in public again.” With that, your tears resumed.

“Darling, you know I’ve been where you are, and I know it seems bad right now, but everything will be fine. Let me grab my scissors and I’ll be over faster than you can say, ‘Penny, I love you so much, you truly are my fairy godmother.’”

You paused before whispering into the phone, “Penelope, I do love you so much, and you are my fairy godmother. But please, hurry.”

And hurry, she did.

Garcia was knocking on your door a little over five minutes later, which was incredibly suspicious because she lived at least 10 minutes away on a good day, but in the state of your disarray, you were not inclined to care. She sat you down on the toilet in your bathroom, whipping out her hair care set (she had definitely spent a significant amount of time dabbling in cosmetology, and it was desperate times like this when it came in handy). Squeezing your eyes shut through most of it, she snipped here and there, trying to make the best of this...horribly atrocious cut (seriously, that hairdresser should be sued), and when she was finished, it was not as bad as when they started, but it still wasn’t great. The rest of the evening was spent watching cheesy rom-coms and baking in an attempt to get your mind off of your hair.

Everything was mostly fine until the next morning, when you realized you’d have to go into work like this, and as terrifying as that prospect was in a normal work environment, you also worked in a place with an abnormal amount of hot people. (And you happened to be developing feelings for one of those hot people, but your brain was insistent upon ignoring that for the time being.)

Already anticipating your worries, Penelope had sent a text without your knowledge to a BAU group chat that excluded you (she had one of these for every member, it just made surprise birthday party planning so much easier).

[penelope :)] please DO NOT MENTION (Y/N)’S HAIR!!!! she got a bad haircut and she feels really terrible about it and doesn’t want to think about it so do not talk about it!!!

[jennifer!] Oh, no! :( Lips are sealed!

[rossi ;)] rip.

Emerging from the elevator in the nicest work outfit you own (an attempt to distract from the monstrosity), you scurried to Garcia’s lair before anyone could see you. Once inside, you slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, you slid down and covered your face with the files in your hands. “Pennyyyyy,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can do this!”

She swiveled to face you with a look of empathy. “Sugar, I know you can. It—it doesn’t even look that bad!” But Garcia was a horrible liar, and if looks could kill, she would have been dead instantaneously.

Heaving yourself up off the floor, you came to sit in the seat next to her. “Can’t I just work in here today? And maybe for the rest of time?”

“You know I would love that, but those other lovely people on our team need you! Especially the young doctor, you know he’d be lonely without you.”

As if her mention had summoned him, Reid opened the door to their secret meeting, files in hand, and your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. Garcia stared at him very intensely, attempting to telepathically tell him to not mention the hair, and you looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to figure out a way to hide yourself from him and possibly the entire universe. And poor Reid shifted his gaze between the two of you, helplessly confused as to what he had walked into. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no!” Garcia said in the least convincing manner.

“Okay,” he responded, not convinced in the slightest. “I just came to give you some files from Hotch.” So, he handed Garcia the papers and then turned to leave when you caught his eye.

And because he was not the greatest with technology, Spencer had not checked his phone that morning…. Meaning he had not seen Garcia’s text. So he looked at you a moment and cocked his head. “Your hair looks really nice today, (Y/N). Did you get it cut?”

This time, it was Garcia’s turn to glare (because read your texts, dammit!), and you fumbled for a response. As you scanned his face, searching for a sign that he was lying, that he was just saying something to make you feel better, you came up empty. He was telling the truth. He genuinely thought your hair looked nice. “Um, uh—yeah. Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

“You’re welcome.” He offered you a smile, which you returned easily (a fact that surprised you). “See you.” Retreating from the office because the vibes in there were weird, he shut the door, finally leaving you and Garcia alone again.

You were reeling.

You thought about when you had gotten dressed that morning, and you had entertained each outfit with great scrutiny, trying to come up with something that might draw attention away from your hair. In that half hour you’d spent, you had realized that you didn’t really mind looking bad in front of Morgan or Emily or Hotch or really anyone on the team. Almost anyone. With an increasing amount of discomfort, you had realized you didn't want to look bad in front of Spencer. Of course, he’d never judge you, but you wanted to look good for him. For your best friend.

And he told you your hair looked nice.

You smiled to yourself.

Garcia turned to you with a look of shock on her face. Had that been anyone else, she was sure you would have curled up in a ball beneath her desk and would not have left until every single other person had left the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but you hadn’t, and she smirked.

Oh, she knew where this was going.

———

To put it lightly, it had not been the best of mornings.

It seemed that everything that could’ve gone wrong did, so you burst past the glass doors of the BAU six minutes late with a coffee-covered shirt, mud-stained pants, soggy shoes, and a most miserable attitude. Hotch, while a sympathetic man, was still your boss with rules to follow and when you stumbled into the bullpen, gave a pointed stare between you and the clock, and you nodded sullenly. You understood his silent admonition, but knowing that he was even slightly disappointed in you, made your knees want to buckle. Swallowing around the slug in your throat, you set your bag down beside your chair and noticed a foreign object sitting on your desk. Interest thoroughly piqued, you reached forward to find it was a book with a satin ribbon tied on it.

It truly was a beautiful book with a deep crimson hardcover and the kind of deckled edges that you loved. Running your fingers along the rough-hewn pages, you finally noted the title, and you gasped. Beloved by Toni Morrison. Your favorite. The cursive words curved in black on the cover to match the ribbon, and you carefully traced the curling letters, wondering where this gorgeous book could have come from.

In the desk across from yours, Spencer watched the scene in front of him with a grin. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the look of awe on your face as you inspected the book with careful fingers and a gentle gaze, and his heart swelled more and more the longer he looked. “Did you know that Margaret Garner, the woman the character Sethe is based on, her trial was used as part of an effort to dismantle the Fugitive Slave Act?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and those stupid freaking butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you realized who had gifted you the book. “The presiding judge didn’t accept her lawyer’s argument that the act violated the right to religious freedom, but it was still somewhat of a turning point in the movement to strike down the law.”

“I did not know that, but thank you. For the fact and the book.”

“You’re welcome.” He had to avert his eyes from your strong gaze because he thought he might melt otherwise.

“Please don’t misinterpret this as me being ungrateful because I’m so, so thankful, but why?”

He shrugged, “I was just in the book store, and it made me think of you.” No, he didn’t keep an eye out specifically for this book on his weekly trip to the bookstore by his apartment after you had briefly mentioned your love of Ms. Morrison’s metaphors. And he definitely didn’t ask the owner Alice if she would let him know if she ever got any new copies.

Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Combing back through your conversations with him, you tried to remember when you had talked about the book, but you couldn’t come up with anything other than a couple words tossed briefly here and there. Suppose it wasn’t really the fact that he had heard, but the fact that he had listened. He listened and remembered things about you, little things tucked in the back of his brain, and it was how he thought about you even when you weren’t around. So, you clutched the book to your chest tightly as if it could meld with your heart and let your thoughts rage with the implications for a minute before smothering your mushy grin and tucking the book into your bag.

(Later, you pulled it out on your ride home on the metro. Spencer had already gotten off at his stop a few minutes before, so you took this moment of solitude to revel in the glory of your new gift. Every time you smoothed a hand over the cover, your mind was overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if he felt the same? What if his stomach rumbled with the same butterflies when you looked at him? What if this means he likes you as more than…. And abruptly, you were doused in doubt once again, muzzling those dangerous, rearing hypotheticals. This was a path that would only lead to disappointment.

Those thoughts only got worse when you read his inscription, though:

Dear (Y/N/N),

I hope you find great joy in reacquainting yourself with the graces of Ms. Morrison’s elegant prose in this new copy. I was inspired by your praise and read this classic again, and I can say that I definitely understand your veneration of her story-telling. Hopefully, we can discuss it soon, so I can try to see all of the details that you so admire. You are always much better at appreciating the finer things in life.

She says that, “something that is loved is never lost.”

I hope you know that you will never be lost to me.

Sincerely,

Spencer

(P.S. I wrote this in pencil, so you can erase and have the clean copy you wanted.)

You would never erase it.)

———

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands. Your responding “no” came out muffled.

Spencer frowned and sat on the edge of your desk. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Running your hands over your face, you finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft as they searched your own, and the expression on his face was not of pity or frustration but empathy, and of course, he was just being his sweet self. Your eyes watered in response, and his heart clenched at the sight. You shifted your eyes somewhere else, anywhere else. “Uh, no.”

It was clearly a lie.

Furrowing his brows at your obfuscation, he scanned your face for any indication of what might be the problem. A small sigh. He came up with nothing. “Alright,” he conceded hesitantly. “May I ask what is wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

You stared down at the files neatly ordered on your desk, trying to mentally shoo him away with the sheer force of your willpower alone. But Spencer Reid was a stubborn man, and you knew this, and you also knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were alright. So, you both sat in the silence of the bullpen that only accompanied the arrival of midnight. The glow of your lamp bathed the vicinity in a warm yellow, and the tick of the nearby clock rattled around your chest as you attempted fruitlessly to subdue your incessant thoughts. He was close enough that you could hear the soft susurration of his exhales as his eyes flitted about the room to give you some sort of breathing room, and you shut yours for a moment to appreciate this moment of peace before the inevitable catastrophe to follow.

“I’m—uh, not okay.”

Finally turning back to you with a mildly surprised expression (he didn’t expect you to say anything so soon. Or so bluntly.), he offered you one of his signature tight-lipped smiles as encouragement to continue.

“I’m kind of really struggling…” you trailed off, gaze empty, ensnared in your thoughts.

Ever the gentleman with persistence that could last a thousand years, he gently prompted, “With…?”

A strong gulp and eyes squeezed shut. “With you.”

Well, that was not the answer Spencer was expecting. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and he was hollow and shaken and in pain. Gaping, he fumbled hopelessly for an answer, trying to find some reason you could be upset with him. He had always thought you two were the best of friends; he’d never doubted that before. How could he have missed this?

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he strained to ask, “Uh—um, what—what did I do?”

Upon witnessing his struggle, you quickly amended your previous statement. “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not mad at you, well, I kind of am, but you don’t need to feel bad, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m not really sure what to make of that.”

You huffed a sigh and covered your face with your hands in a poor attempt to try to hide the blush rapidly coloring your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just—you’re so nice!”

Now Spencer was really confused. “You’re mad at me...because you think I’m nice?”

“Yes, Spencer! You’re so nice, and it makes me incredibly frustrated. You see this?” You picked up a book from your desk and waved it frantically. A little intimidated by your crazed look, he nodded timidly. “Do you recognize this book?”

“It’s a special edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison.”

“It’s the special edition of my favorite book that you bought for me because you know how much I love this book.”

Spencer looked like a deer in the headlights. “You always said that your book at home was so messy with your annotations and that a fresh copy would have been nice.”

“You didn’t even buy it for my birthday or a special occasion! You just saw it in the store and said that you thought of me and had to buy it. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful! Not to mention the fact that I can barely look at fruit snacks now without tearing up. And—and the other day! When I got my haircut, I hated it, but I came in the next day, and you were the first person to tell me you liked it. You weren’t even lying to make me feel better; I’m a profiler, and I know that you were telling the truth. And it took no effort or thought because Spencer, you are the most kind-hearted and compassionate and generous person I’ve ever met. You are so—so genuinely good.

“No, you are the best. You are the best person I know,” you stated with finality, holding his stare with an unshakeable firmness. It was the first time you truly looked at him all night, and his heart felt like it was going to expand past his ribcage and burst open like a balloon. Your resolve melted though and your voice dropped to a near whisper. “And you’re not just nice. You’re nice to me. Which just makes it so hard.”

You deflated, withering into your seat.

“Makes what hard?”

“It makes it so much harder for me to not fall in love with you.”

Stunned silence.

Until it was shattered by a hiccup, and Spencer finally noticed the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, and he tried, he tried so hard to puzzle through all of this new information and the fact that you just admitted you’re falling in love with him, and for some reason, you’re crying? He couldn’t even get his stupid genius brain to come with a single word before you started stumbling into an apology. “I know that’s not what you want to hear because we’re supposed to be friends, and I know that you’re just a good person, so you’re nice to everyone. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t keep holding on to this by myself, and I knew if anyone would let me down easy, it’d be you.” You chewed on your lip and avoided his stare at all costs. “So, I’m sorry.” You sniffled.

The quiet that followed weighed heavy on your chest, and you couldn’t seem to breathe. You had expected rejection; you hadn’t expected complete silence. And this was somehow so much more unbearable. In a voice so faint you weren’t even sure if he could hear, you begged, “Please say something.”

A beat.

“(Y/N), I love you.”

A whisper just barely verging on hopeful, “What?”

“(Y/N), I—I love you so much.” His heart felt like it was in his throat, and his voice broke slightly as he stood. “You’re the first person I think about when I get up in the morning, and you’re the last person before I fall asleep. I dread going home at the end of the day because you’re not there. When you’re not with me, even if you’re in the other room, it feels like I’ve forgotten something, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what I was missing, but it was you. You consume my every thought, which is saying something because I think a lot. Actually, it’s kind of funny,” he chuckled somewhat morosely, “I truly cannot comprehend the fact that you don’t know how much I’ve liked you, how long I’ve loved you because it feels like it’s so obvious and so potent that it seeps out of me, whether I want it to or not.

“And I’m nice to you because no one else is more deserving of kindness. I’d be lucky if you let me be the one to remind you of that, everyday. Because you’re the best person I know.” You looked up at him with shining eyes and the meagerest beginnings of a smile, and he just beamed right back. With a creased brow, he ventured, “You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that, right?

Failing to suppress your growing grin, you nodded your head meekly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

Spencer felt pleased with himself until he remembered that he had forgotten the most important part. “Would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Like a date?”

Standing from your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face into his chest, and he immediately reciprocated, clutching you as close as he could. “I would love that.” It came out muffled, but he understood well enough as he pressed his face into your neck. And you stood like that for a few moments, just existing together, and for the first time in a long time, nothing hurt. There was no worry of unrequited yearning or pain of terrible pining; there were just two people who finally knew peace. Knew that the person they loved most in the world loved them back. Neither ever wanted to leave.

However, sometimes necessary duties like breathing take precedence, so you pulled back from him enough to finally claim some air. Your hands slid down his front, resting on his chest, his on your waist, and you just stared at him. The most beautiful face you’d ever seen looking right back at you with the same expression of awe that made you realize just how lucky you were. And slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned in ever so slightly with heads wavering and tension buzzing. Gingerly and sweetly. Neither could commit, but no one could pull away from fast-approaching revelation.

Finally, a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

When your lips met, your chest heaved with your eager, romantic hopes and dreams bubbling up near your lungs, finally coming to fruition. His hands came up to caress your jaw, and you leaned into him. His touch was so gentle, but he also touched you with intention. For once in his life, Spencer Reid felt no hesitation, kissing the girl of his dreams. And you felt held by him. You were bursting at the seams of your existence, swollen with infatuation and tenderness, yet totally and completely encompassed by him. You could shatter into a million tiny, little pieces, and he would be there to collect every shard. How cheesy.

Both of you grinned into the kiss; the sickly sweet itch in your heart was contagious. You finally released him, and wanting to savor the moment, you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, so his chin could rest on the crown of your head. “I love you a lot, Dr. Reid.”

He hummed in agreement.

It didn’t need saying.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #i hope yall see that the sentences that are syntactically similar and the parallel settings are intentional and are like stupid attempts at #motifs and that im not a stupid person :/#also #lol wtf was that ending #anyways #yo this may or may not be based on problems i be having irl #i just fall in love with anyone who is remotely kind to me #lmao #anyone else desperate for affection?? gang??#also r there any toni stans out there i luv my queen #is anyone out there? i just want friends ahh #ALSO DOES ANYONE ELSE HAVE THE OVERWHELMING URGE TO DEVOUR THEIR GUMMY VITAMINS????? IS THAT JUST ME????

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jazziwritesthings · 4 years

Text

We Were - Derek Hale

Inspired by We Were by Keith Urban

Lyrics in Bold

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Word Count: 2082

Warnings: Cancer, Death, maybe swears

A/N: I’m Sorry.

*******

We were just a couple years short of the age By my name on a fake ID And still 'bout a hundred away from the day Your daddy said you could run with me We were a couple of line steppers Who just couldn't wait to step over the line

Derek met you when you were both 17. You tried so hard to try to get him to trust you. He wasn’t about to let himself get invested in someone again. Not after Paige. It had only been a few years and Derek was still broken about it, but that was something that would never leave him. He knew he couldn’t make that mistake again. No, he wouldn’t, or so he thought. After almost a year you had worn him down and got him to open up a bit. He liked being around you. You made him feel like a normal teenager. Then the fire happened. You got a call from an unknown number, it was Derek at the sheriff station. He asked if you could pick him up. You borrowed your dad’s car and definitely went over the speed limit trying to reach him as fast as possible. You ran into the sheriff's station and saw him just sitting on a bench. You walked over and stood in front of him. Without warning he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his head into your stomach. You could feel his shaking and eventually you heard his sobs. You just stood there playing with his hair telling him you loved him, all while trying to keep the sound of your sobbing controlled.

We were gonna make it, weren't we, baby? Had it all laid out in our mind By the time we knew time was runnin' out We done run out of time

He had to leave Beacon Hills. He had no choice, he was a minor and now Laura was his guardian, and she couldn’t stay here. You understood why but you didn’t want to be separated from your best friend. The day they left was one of the toughest days of your life. You and Derek had spent the night in your room. Your dad wasn’t around much since your mom passed, so it was always just you and him. That night was the night when you both admitted you loved each other, more than just friends. That was the night you gave him everything and he gave everything to you. The next morning was rough. The car was already packed and Laura was just waiting for Derek. You stood in front of the garage with your hands on his chest and his on your waist with your foreheads touching. “I love you so much. Promise you won’t forget me?” He let out a slight laugh/sigh and pressed one last kiss to your lips, “ I promise.”

And we were leather jackets hangin' onto a Harley Two heartbeats in the moonlight

The first year he was gone he had tried to keep in contact with you. It wasn’t easy, he didn’t have a phone and could only reach you by pay phone. Laura said it wasn’t a good idea to keep that kind of stuff because it meant that hunters could track them easier. Derek would never tell you that part. As far as you knew, he was normal. His whole family was normal and the fire was an accident. Eventually it got hard for him to keep contacting you. Every time he heard your voice or you told him things that were happening around Beacon Hills he became so homesick and it reminded him too much of his family. It hurt too much for him to continue. He didn’t mean for it to happen how it did. He just quit calling and writing and before he knew it, six years had gone by. Laura had told him she had some business to attend to and that she would be back in a few weeks. When she didn’t call Derek at all the first week he started to worry. He finally went through Laura’s things and found where she had gone and why. She had gone home. He packed what little they had and raced back to Beacon Hills.

He arrived and it seemed like nothing had changed. Everything looked the same and honestly he felt homesick all over again. He didn’t know where to go so he went to the only place he knew he could. Walking up the front steps of his childhood home brought up a lot of pleasant memories. Most of them were his mom sitting on those stairs giving some of the best advice she could offer. He looked around the porch and noticed there were bouquets everywhere. Some were very dead and others looked semi-fresh. He’d been there about a day when he heard someone pull up in a car. He secretly watched out of the upstairs window. As soon as she got out of the car Derek knew who it was immediately. He could smell her all the way up the stairs and she still smelled the same. He got brave and quietly went down the stairs. He watched as she turned and walked back to her car. He walked out onto the porch, “ Y/n?” You froze at the sound of your name. In all the years you were coming here no one had even stepped foot on the property. You turned around and were surprised to see a man standing there staring at you, “ I’m sorry. Do I know you?” He walked off the porch and when the sunlight lit up his features she took a step back, “ Derek?” He looked at you with a huge smile on his face, “Yeah.” You looked at him for only a moment before your mind was made up. You walked over to him and grabbed his face, pulling him into a kiss. The butterflies and the fire were still there. You had had other boyfriends before, but none of them ever measured up to Derek. No matter how hard you tried nobody could compare to him. It wasn’t that long before he disappeared on you again. You shouldn’t have been surprised but you were, and it still hurt just as much as the first time.

At least there's a little bit of sweet in the bitter Though a part of me is always gonna miss her I am who I am, I just miss who I was when we were

You had always remembered your time with Derek fondly. He was your first, for just about everything. You had tried to get into contact with him through the teenagers he had here. They periodically checked up on you and you assumed they reported back to him. Eventually they stopped coming around. So when you got sick, there was no way to tell Derek. Your doctors told you it wasn't a great chance. The surgery could work or it could make it worse, you may not even make it out. You had done what felt like hundreds of rounds of chemo and nothing was working to get the tumor to shrink. It was in a place that was very hard to operate. It was in your brain. There was a chance that if they were able to get it that the cancer wouldn’t return. You knew the risk of surgery was dying, but if you didn’t try you were going to die anyway. Before you went in for surgery you wrote a letter and mailed it to the McCall house, addressed to Derek.

Friends say, "Oh well, let that ship sail" "You gotta let go of her" "Just wasn't meant to be" But somewhere down deep I still believe That we were

When Derek finally returned to Beacon Hills he went to Scott’s house first. The boy had said he had something important for Derek. Derek knocked and waited before Scott opened the door. “Hey man! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for like a year!” Derek nodded, “ Yeah I was busy, what do you have for me?” Scott picked an envelope off the coffee table and handed it to him. He read the return address and when he saw your name he froze a bit. “Okay.” He left Scott’s house without another word. He walked to your old house and saw that there was a different family living there. He decided to just walk while he read.

Dear Derek,

Hey. You know I was never any good at this sort of thing, but I figured this would get to you eventually. I want you to know that you are my best friend. I can tell you that I would not have survived my teenage years if it wasn’t for you. I know I wouldn’t have made it through the time after my mom died without you. I need you to know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Even though you did ignore me for most of our 20s. You need to know that no matter what I love you. Always. I don’t care how many bad things happen, you are and forever will be my person. I couldn’t have lived this life without you. So thank you.

Derek quit walking and chose to sit down on the sidewalk. This felt like a goodbye.

I know I know. I’m getting all sappy and you hate that sorta stuff. Deal with it. What I’m about to say is going to make you angry. I kept a secret from you. I got sick. I know we all thought it wasn’t a genetic thing and that I would be okay, but I’m not. I’m sick and I’m going to die. I’ve had so many rounds of chemo that I can’t even tell you how many. So many failed attempts at remission. The tumor is in my brain. I’m opting to have a surgery to try and remove it. If the surgery works then I should be cancer free. If the surgery doesn’t work, well that would mean I would die. So either way I’m pretty screwed, the chances of survival with the surgery are about 5%. So either way I guess. I don’t want you to be angry. I know you're not mad at me, you’re going to be so angry at yourself for leaving me but Derek it’s what had to happen. I’m glad you haven’t seen me lately. I don’t feel or even look like myself. Remember me how I was that night. You know the one. So I guess this is a goodbye. I never thought we would have to do this. I’m sorry Derek. Please keep living for me. I love you. Y/n

By the time he finished reading he felt completely numb. You were gone. He would never hear your voice again. He would never kiss you or hold you again. He stood up and ran. He ended up at a spot that you and him had been so many times. He walked over and his gut was right. Where there had been one stone for so many years, there were now two. He walked over and sat down in front of it. He ran his hand over the words, Y/n L/n The light of everyone’s life. The date was from over a year before. You had been gone a year and he didn’t even know it. The love of his life was gone and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. He all of a sudden couldn’t breathe. He was a mess of tears and sobs. He put his head in his hands. If he would’ve known he could’ve done something. He could’ve gotten you turned. As soon as that thought crossed his mind he got angry. He couldn’t have saved you. If you had known about him and the supernatural, you wouldn’t have wanted the bite. You wouldn’t want it because it would’ve changed everything. He was pacing now. His anger and grief got the best of him as he let out a very loud roar. He knew all of Beacon Hills probably heard it, but at the moment he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was gone and never coming back. He looked down at the head stone before kissing his fingers and placing them gently on the top, “ I love you too.”

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

change of plans javier pena x reader

+++++++++

this is my first time writing for javi so please be kind lol. i wrote this about a week ago after i started narcos but i only just finished season one and havent gotten into two yet. i do have more ideas and prompts for him though so hopefully it gets better

Song: I'm bad at life by falling in reverse

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++

I bounced my leg nervously under the table as we ate. Looking to javier every once in a while as he read over the newspaper in his hand. All I could think about was the damn pregnancy test hiding in my makeup bag in his medicine cabinet. I had just finished washing my hands when he had gotten home from work and didn't have the chance to see the results. It was killing me. Part of me wanted to excuse myself and go look but I was worried he'd catch on. After all, it had only been twenty minutes and he'd come in the door before I was even out of the bathroom. It was suspicious to say the least. I breathed deeply as I tapped the fork against my lip, my eyes making their way to the wall behind him.

"How was work?"

I asked, not looking to him as he perked up at the sound of my voice.

"Oh good, you weren't talking and I was afraid you were mad at me."

He sighed out, a smile making its way to his face. I tried my best to smile back but took a bite so it would seem more believable.

"Nope, just thinking."

I said and be raised a brow. Oops.

"About what?"

Shit.

"The wedding."

I said and be let out a nervous laugh.

"Still planning?"

He asked and I nodded.

"Only just."

I said and he looked back to me confused.

"What do you mean? I thought you said you knew exactly what you wanted?"

He inquired and I shrugged, putting the fork down.

"I thought I did but I was going through magazines earlier with roxy and she made a very valid point that I should ask your opinion first. Ya know, before making any decisions. It is both of our wedding after all."

He looked worried for a second.

"You told her about us?"

He asked and I shook my head.

"No, I just told her I accidently got it in the mail and wanted to know if she wanted to go through it with me. But we got to talking and she said that if she had to plan a wedding she would want her future spouse to be by her side helping make every decision and I think she was right. We should both be doing this."

He reached across the table and took my hand in his.

"You know I want this to be perfect for you. All I care about is you being happy. Hell, you know id do this in a courthouse tomorrow if you asked me to."

He said and I could feel my face go flush, sending him a genuine smile.

"I love you javier pena. So damn much."

I said, looking up at him as he stood, coming to me and kissing me lightly before heading to the kitchen for more food.

"I love you too Hermosa."

He said, back to me. I smiled to myself for a second before feeling sick.

"I'll be back."

I said, running to the bathroom, slamming the door shut, and falling to the floor in front of the toilet. I coughed out as I spilled my guts. Aaaand we're back to why I took the test earlier. God I wanted this to be over already. I had been lucky the past three or four days that every time I was sick it had been while javi was at work. Guess things were quick to change.

"You okay?"

He asked, a soft knock at the door following his words. I breathed deeply as I flushed the toilet.

"Yeah, just go finish dinner and I'll be out in a sec."

I said, hearing him walk away. I closed my eyes tightly before reaching for my toothbrush and running it through my mouth. When it was back in the cup I stared at myself in the mirror.

"Javi, I'm pregnant and we might have to move the wedding date."

I whispered to myself before groaning and rubbing my hands over my face. As they rested against my lips I glanced at the medicine cabinet. I should look. No. I should wait. I shook my head, placing my hands on the sink and stepping back. God why was this so hard. I stood back up, looking over my body in the mirror. What if it's positive? I stood to the side, smoothing my shirt out against my stomach and frowning. Damn, maybe it was positive. Surely I would've noticed even this small change. But then again, was it change? Or have I always looked like this? I shook my head.

"Fuck it."

I said lightly, pulling the cabinet open and snatching my makeup bag off the shelf. I dug into it before pulling the test out, upside down. As I flipped it over I heard the door nob rattle.

"Mi amor, you've been in there for a while. Are you sure everything is alright?"

He asked as I stared at the test in my hand. I didn't know what to do other than look up at him as he pushed the bathroom door open, like a deer in headlights.

"What is that?"

He asked, brows drawn.

"I'm pregnant?"

I said through a nervous laugh, trying to smile in case it would rub off on him. His face fell and I wish I could say it was shocked but I really couldn't read him. He just stood there frozen for a second. After what felt like an hour I flashed the test to him but his gaze didn't leave my own. Then I watched as he turned and walked away from me.

"Javi?"

I asked, following him back out into the living room. He stood in front of the couch, hands perched on his hips.

"Baby talk to me."

I said softly, looking to him a little scared. He huffed, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Javi?"

I tried again and he finally looked to me.

"You're pregnant?"

He asked and I shrugged, tossing the test at him and him catching it against his chest.

"So says the stick."

I torted back, watching him look down at it. Two pale blue lines. He didn't skip a beat before falling into the couch, tucking the stick under his leg as he reached for his pack.

"I need a minute."

He said, lighting the cigarette. I laughed, falling down beside him, hearing the leather creak as it squished beneath me.

"How do you think I feel?"

I asked, dropping my head back and looking over the ceiling.

"We've been so careful."

He said, blowing smoke out into the air and I could feel it burn in my nose.

"I guess not."

I said and he snorted, rubbing his eye with his free fingers.

"What are we gonna do?"

He asked and I deadpanned.

"What are we gonna do?"

I repeated a little angry.

"We can't have a baby."

He said and looked at him in disbelief.

"Why not?! I'm not some hooker you picked up on the street javi."

I hissed out.

"I know."

He said in defense.

"I'm your fiance."

I reminded him.

"I know!"

He called and I froze. He had never risen his voice at. I shook my head.

"Then what is the problem?!"

I yelled back, trying to examine him as he sent me a testing look. I guess I didn't have quite the poker face I thought I did because when he realized I was scared be softened.

"Mi amor,"

He sighed, reaching for my hand.

"I never thought I'd be here again."

He looked to me a little sad, rubbing his thumb in circles.

"I damn near made it to the alter once before but that feels like a lifetime ago. And when I met you I told myself I wasn't gonna do that again. But I'm here anyway."

I lifted his hand and kissed his palm gently.

"I don't want anything to happen to you."

He took the test out from under his leg before sliding into my side. I watched him intently as he looked down to our hands connected.

"I don't want anything to happen to either of you."

He said sliding his other hand gently onto my stomach and I immediately wanted to cry.

"I love you javier."

I said leaning in and kissing him softly. When he pulled away he rested his hand against my cheek.

"We've been keeping our relationship a secret for a year javi. I think it's time to let our friends know we're more than roommates."

I said amused and he laughed, dropping his forehead onto my chest with a sigh.

"I guess Steve can finally stop pestering me, wanting to know if I've done anything with you yet."

I snorted, raking my fingers through his hair.

"What? He didn't believe you when you told him we werent sleeping together?"

He shook his head against me before lifting it and smiling at me.

"Not even a little bit."

I leaned in and kissed him again.

"I think he should've stopped asking after two months, don't you?"

I asked and he snorted.

"Clearly you don't know Steve."

I shook my head in amusement.

"Guess not."

#wattpad #x reader #javier pena #narcos #netflix #imagines #one shots #297

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shuatoyou · 4 years

Text

➵ request: a fic based on an angsty quote from insta: “maybe someday we will be two people meeting again for the first time”

➵ genre: angst angst and more angst

➵ a/n: ughh this quote was perfect, i wrote two different scenarios and had to choose between the one that fit best. this one was the winner. i hope you like it thank you for requesting anon <3 (sorry if its so choppy btw ugh)

the skies, the damned skies.

you hated how the night sky reminded you of him, his eyes that always sparkled almost as if it was holding an entire galaxy.

you hated how every empty shelf reminded you of the times where they were once filled to the brim with novels waiting to be read by him.

you hated how he had symbolised nearly everything in your life and it all took you back to him. to that day; that moment. especially now that he was standing in front of you.

the sound of your phone ringing pulled you out of the daze you were in and you rushed to answer without paying any attention to the caller id.

“hello?”

“i’ve been trying to reach you for the last ten minutes y/n” the voice on the other line that belonged to your friend mingyu huffs frustratedly.

“i'm sorry i must have left my phone on silent, what's up?”

“are you coming to the company dinner?” he asks with a nervous tone to his usual cheery voice.

“i have to be there as the team leader, gyu, i told you this.”

“oh you did…”

“is everything okay?” you question as him being forgetful was not likely.

“yeah of course, i’ll see you then. is anyone taking you there?”

“i was just planning on making my own-”

“i’ll pick you up at six then,” he says, interrupting you and hanging up abruptly leaving you puzzled but with a yawn you pick up the work you were previously doing.

mingyu picked you up at six like he said he would, you greeted him getting into the car. the two of you complimented each other's looks, mostly him praising your sense of style for once with a laugh however the rest of the time you guys rode in silence for most of the journey except when he made small conversations about work here and there until you spoke up again.

“you sounded weird earlier, you alright?” you turn towards the driving figure in your seat.

“im fine, why wouldn't i be?” he says equally as weird as earlier so you just dust it off with a shrug knowing you wouldn't be able to get anything out of him. humming along to the music you both zoned out into your own worlds.

from the moment you two arrived, stepping foot into the large venue rented for the dinner mingyu had practically glued himself to your side while you greeted coworkers and partners.

“don't you have your own team to be sticking by right now?” you asked, sighing.

“yeah but i don't want to leave you alone” he shrugged, taking a drink from the table behind you before offering you one which you gladly accepted.

“it's nothing new gyu don't worry just go” you shoo him away and turn around searching the crowd as you sipped on the prestige glass filled with equally as prestige champagne. mingyu was still hovering behind you however less annoyingly so you dismissed it for the time being.

it wasn't long before you met eyes with a new figure that walked in, your heart began racing and your stomach dropped at the sight of him. his hair was cut shorter now, the charcoal colour of it stood out to you and of course he was wearing the glasses you stole from him countless times. your eyes stayed focused on him watching as he greeted some people, mingyu followed your gaze to finally notice him too, his eyes widening as he immediately steps in front of you averting your attention to himself.

for a moment you’re stood there trying to figure out whether your mind was playing tricks on you but mingyu's actions confirmed enough

“what are you doing?” you question raising your eyebrow.

“i'm sorry i didn't want you to find out like this y/n”

“you knew?”

he nodded at your question.

“is this why you were acting weird all day?”

another question answered with a mere nod, you understood now.

“it's not that big of a deal anyways, i'm fine” you smile reassuringly patting his arm signalling for him to move since he stood in a protective manner, as if you were fragile. with an apologetic look he nods once again, moving away.

wonwoo being there was a surprise to you, especially when it had been so long since you last saw the boy. your mind raced with thoughts and questions that you did your best to shake away.

eyeing the boxes spread onto the floors, you walked onto the balcony where he was standing looking over at the stunning view you had both bragged about countlessly for the past few years.

your first instinct was to question why the books were off the shelves and in boxes but he beat you to it as he spoke up.

“i have to go y/n” he told you, not sparing you a single glance.

“what?”

“i got the promotion.” he stated nonchalantly although his eyes were watering making you even more anxious.

“why would you only tell me this now?” you did your best to keep your voice at a steady tone, but you knew wonwoo knew you like no other, probably better than yourself in fact.

“i didn't know how to bring it up, '' he sighs, finally turning to look at you and sitting beside you on the balcony you two had walked onto for air earlier where wonwoo finally decided to bring up the topic.

“a simple, ‘hey i’ve been given a promotion to work overseas’ would’ve done the job wonwoo” you laugh bitterly looking down at your feet.

“i'm sorry”

“when do you leave?” you whispered not trusting your voice anymore.

“next week…” you look up to meet his eyes that were softly looking at you, still as sparkly as ever and still manage to captivate you in them.

“is this goodbye then?”

“i think so.” he moved slightly to the side getting closer to you, pulling you into a side hug and you don't even fight against it, allowing your figure to be taken into the arms you knew you would miss. the two of you release the tears that were fighting to break free. you felt the circles he rubbed onto the side of your arm, something he always did to comfort you.

he kept his arms around you tightly as you began to withdraw yours from him.

“i can't even find it in me to be angry at you, i really should be but i just can't, woo” your voice comes out shaky, it was like you were disappointed at your feelings.

“this isn't the end y/n” he did his best trying to reassure you.

“it wouldn't have been this hard if you spoke to me… we could have figured something out.” you snapped, feeling a slight anger rush to your head. you were truly upset

“figure what out? would you come with me?” he asked frustratedly.

his question was met with silence, in fact the only sound in the atmosphere was the swaying of the trees and leaves fighting each other on the grounds

“do you think maybe someday we’ll be two people meeting again for the first time?” you mumble.

“yes and i promise that.”

“maybe this is best for us, maybe we need to go our own ways for now and meet when it's time again.”

“until then, i’ll only be one call away,” he vowed.

but the calls never happened, the texts got less frequent and soon he was just a mere memory left in your past.

his eyes were now looking back at you, holding your gaze. he took a few steps to get closer and see if it really was you making your heart practically jump. you broke eye contact first turning back around to your friend. wonwoo couldnt peel his eyes off of you especially when it had been so long. you had changed alot and it pained him to know he wasn't there for some of your biggest changes although mingyu made sure to notify everyone through his social media during the years which turned out to be beneficial to him more or less.

now you were right in front of him, looking as beautiful as ever. all the memories rushing back but all you could wish for in that moment is for him to have broken the promise.

“he’s looking at you y/n”

“and? i have to go find my boss.”

“now? wait let me come with y-” you stop him putting a hand up.

“i'll see you in a bit, mingyu.” with that you turned around on your heels despite the objections from the boy himself, making your way to the other side of the venue content on finding your boss until someone stopped in front of you bringing you to a halt, your hands immediately lifted up to steady yourself on the strangers chest.

“steady there”

the familiar deep voice made you jump, quickly removing your hands off him and dusting off your dress.

“still as clumsy as ever?” he chuckled.

“oh.. no you got in my way?” you stated kind of like a question. you knew mingyu was watching this interaction from somewhere so you silently hoped he would save you.

“sorry about that i guess” he was awkward, his hand at the nape of his neck trying to lock gazes with you but that was your stubbornness not wanting to look him in the eye.

“do you mind if we talk for a minute?” he finally spoke up again after the moment of silence.

you hesitated looking back to where mingyu was standing, he was begging you with his eyes to say yes. so you nodded. there was no harm in talking to him again right?

wonwoo seemed shocked at you accepting to talk so it took him a second to compose himself,

“oh? okay great.” he stumbled on his words and almost his feet as he led the way to the bench outdoors.

the two of you took a moment to breathe the fresh air and you wrapped your shawl around you tighter in attempts of keeping warm from the fierce cold. he took notice of this. you always got cold easily anyways.

“maybe it wasn't a good idea talking outside in the cold.”

“what do you want to talk about wonwoo?” you ask, making him turn around to you before sitting right beside you on the bench.

“i'm sorry.” he said, voice shaky and deeper than ever. you weren't sure whether the goosebumps on your skin was from the cold or his voice.

you hum in response. “for what?”

“for leaving back then.”

your figure straightens at the words falling out of his mouth.

“is that it?” you say coldly.

“no, but i don't know how to get into the rest of it.” he admits avoiding your gaze like you were doing to him.

“please don't.” you plead with a whisper standing up and facing his sat figure. “i’ve moved on wonwoo everything's different now, i don't need an apology. we did this years ago we got over this. you have nothing to be sorry for.” you vent.

“y/n…” he stands up taking a step closer to you.

“it's fine. it really is.” you assure him as much as you honestly could.

“you were the one who asked if one day we would be two people meeting again for the first time.” he quotes from the past.

“and we have, we met again wonwoo but that's it. im sorry.” you softly smile turning to walk back inside.

he didn't try to stop you because you weren't wrong, you two had met now and that's all there was to it. wonwoo left and took a piece of you with him but perhaps it wasnt enough for the both of you to return to the happy times, at least not together.

you guys met again, as two different people with two separate lives.

he inhales the cold air around him looking up to the night sky, the stars that were always filled with light had now dulled in his world and yours was only just beginning to brighten again.

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writing-with-chaos · 3 years

Note

Ooohhh, would you like to do a written piece for "Gentle Light"? I would love to see your take on it!

I would be delighted!!!!!!!

Thank you for waiting!!!!!! This took me a lot longer than I wanted. Last week was, uh, Quite Something for me so I finally got a chance to finish.

Thanks for sending in a request!!!! =D

“Gentle Light”

Ariana didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't this.

It was raining. The darkened clouds were so thick that not even a trickle of the late-afternoon light seeped through. Instead, everything was gray. Fitting, for the gloomy Wasteland they were surrounded by. Shadows covered the empty rooms of the house like the overwhelming scent of dust.

Kendra stepped ahead of her to turn on the lights. No matter how many times she flipped it, the darkness remained. The older woman grunted disapprovingly. The only other sound was the pattering of rain against the windows.

"'Drea must not have kept the electricity," Kendra said. Her voice lowered to a grumble. "Or anything, it seems."

The place was empty, save for the basic appliances in the kitchen and a staircase leading to the upstairs. Kendra took off her leather jacket and placed it on the coat rack thoughtlessly. She moved across the floor like it was second-nature. For as long as they were attached, she always looked so out of place everywhere. Too tall, too intimidating, too much death and scorn reflecting in her blood red eyes to blend in with humans. But here, where she was searching through every cupboard and drawer, knowing exactly what should be in them and frowning when only plumes of dust greet her, it was like she was home. This was really where she and 'Drea hid all those years.

Historians across the globe were still searching for the illusive citadel of the murderous Dark Angel and Gemstone. Ariana read their speculations about their whereabouts and explanations for their theories in her textbooks at school. They wrote about tall, oozing towers or underground vaults. Admittedly, when Kendra said they'd be staying at their old hideout, a small spark of excitement cut through the numbness of the day's tragedy. She would be the only person who would get to see the truth behind the mystery. Ariana didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. Super-powered, genocidal aliens shouldn't have a hideout that looked like the same suburban houses her neighbors had.

Well. Ex-neighbors, anyway.

"Human girl!" Kendra said impatiently, snapping Ariana out of her thoughts. She mimicked a snapping motion. "I said, can you give me some light?"

Ariana obediently snapped her fingers, still staying silent. Shadowy energy coiled to life around her hand. Kendra's own hand mirrored the same. The venom purple sparks cast her face in an eerie light, reflecting against the red of her eyes. Without any further fanfare, she turned back to the cupboards and used the energy as a flashlight, careful not to directly touch anything. Wouldn't want the bloodlust of her powers to destroy the place before they got a chance to use it.

Left to her thoughts again, Ariana's focus slipped back to the new surroundings. The light from her borrowed powers allowed a little bit more vision. From what she could tell, only the hall she was in was wood. Every other room was different. The large room behind her was carpeted bright red. The kitchen across from her was blue and white linoleum and yellow walls. Absolutely nothing matched. Individually, the rooms would look fine, but as a whole they looked like a home decor magazine blew up inside the house. Or, more accurately, an alien from another world cobbled stuff together to see what stuck. It was so much different than the spotless lifestyle her mother used to demand. This felt lively. Lawless. Something tiny stirred awake underneath her numbness.

She kinda loved it.

Kendra dropped two buckets in front of her with a loud clatter. She jolted in alarm. "What the hell?"

"As if I would be cleaning this place myself," she said with a scoff. She threw a sponge at her. "I'll take the upstairs, you work down here. A little work will be good for you, it's a distraction."

"You're just saying that cause you know 'Drea will say she's too pretty to clean," Ariana mumbled.

"Perhaps."

But she didn't wait for any other arguments to be made. Ariana was left alone. For a while, she didn't move. Only the sound of rain broke the silence. It was nice to just sit and listen. Everything still felt so raw, and yet strangely like nothing at all. Once 'Drea arrived, that meant her mother was officially hidden away in a shiny new life. She would be all that remained of the Salem family. Eldest sister dead. Youngest twin missing. Father dead. And now, Mother no longer existed. The bruises from the previous night still looked fresh on her skin, serving as another reminder of the horrors Panacea inflicted. Sabin's ID tags weighed heavy on her neck. If it weren't for the rain, the darkness would've convinced her she was still locked up on that train.

She picked up the sponge and stood up gingerly. Come to think of it, a distraction sounded great. She filled the bucket with water and began scrubbing the floors. It was something familiar at least. She could probably clean in her sleep by now. Her mother's strict domestic laws were permanently etched in her brain. But she didn't really mind chores when there wasn't someone breathing down her neck the whole time. It kept her mind quiet for once. She could focus on the present moment, where she was restoring something for once instead of destroying. Kinda like with her painting. As she leaned back to take a breath, her muscles slightly unclenched at the sight of her own reflection in the floor. No more layers of dust. Just a clean slate. She worked at her own pace, by her own rules, and the work still turned out perfect. Another bit of weight fell off of her.

She started on the walls next. Then the living room, and the kitchen. The more she worked, the lighter she felt. Where the silence should've been terrifying, it was now clearing into comfort. Panacea's train was nothing but noise. Clattering tracks, moaning prisoners, screaming soldiers. Her house was always noise. Arguing, ordering, people pleasing, Sapphire's howling guitars, or the clack of high heels on polished floors. School was noise. The outside was noise. But behind these walls, she could put whatever sounds she wanted. Kendra and 'Drea didn't hover. They didn't care what she did as long as it didn't hinder them in some way. She was all that was left, and that was terrible. But also, isn't that all she ever asked for? Another something stirred awake inside her. The name was on the tip of her tongue. In this place, she didn't have to worry about the monsters and the anxious static waiting for her outside. In here, shielded by bigger monsters, she would never be found. After the nightmare she experienced--and the fresh ones still waiting for her--this was the first moment she had time to catch her breath. In here, it could finally be just her and the rain.

In the large expanse of the living room, she sat back against the wall for another breath. While she rested, a tiny sliver of sun peeked through the clouds. A soft yellow, made dingy by the clouds, but still sun nonetheless. Dust danced calmly in the light. The strip of light allowed the true colors of the house to emerge. In the hall, the deep mahogany and hazelnut brown of the wood shined warmly. Like honey in her bones. Sabin would've loved it here. She gripped the ID tags in her hand. Once she got him back from them, she'd bring him here, so he could see it for himself.

It was then that she realized the elusive name of the feeling slowly growing in her chest. It was what they'd been hunting for their whole lives. What they really only felt when they were together. So scarce in their lives, but undeniable once it was felt.

Safety.

#writeblr #writblr #writeblr community #writers of tumblr #ya fiction #young adult fiction #amwriting #writeblr tag games #quilloftheclouds #the community #the writing #cynical chaos

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seizethecarpe · 4 years

Text

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mystery || Winston and Dave

Timing: Immediately after Murder They Wrote and Murder He Thought Parties: @danetobelieve & @seizethecarpe Summary: When Winston hears a murder, they come to investigate, leaving both of them a little worse for the wear.

Winston scanned the surface of the water, their thoughts frantic. They didn’t know how they knew. They weren’t really sure what these thoughts in their head were. But they felt foreign. They felt different. They definitely didn’t belong to Winston that much was sure. It was almost as if they were oil on the surface of the water, similar but not enough to be indistinguishable. “Hello?” honestly, they weren’t sure what they were doing but they knew that they had to look for something, they got up the flashlight app before immediately closing it. It was the middle of the day. Sighing, they kicked off their shoes and socks, and rolled up their jeans before gingerly stepping into the muddy lake that was Dark Score. Cringing as the dirt oozed between their toes, Winston shuddered, this had better be worth it.

Gorged on Ahuixotl flesh, Dave was pretty happy and unself aware as he swam through bloodsoaked water. They’d finished their fight in an unobtrusive part of the lake, nowhere Dave expected to run into people. He just couldn’t stand to stay in the water much longer - fresh water itched at skin that was built to be surrounded by salt, and while being in the water was glorious, Dave had other things to do. Slowly, he exhaled, his body rearranging as his skin split open. He was sure for some it hurt, but for him it was as natural as stretching. Dave stood up in the fortunately waist high, bloody water. He didn’t hear the other person at first, nor see them as his eyes adjusted to the sunny light, but he felt them step in the water, clear as anything. Shit. “Who’s there?”

Honestly. Winston wasn’t expecting to see Dave. Topless. For a man his age he was in pretty good shape. That wasn’t the reason for Winston’s slack jaw but honestly they couldn’t really help but try and look anywhere but at Dave. “Oh…” Winston’s mind was racing. What was Dave doing here and why was he topless. Winston guesses he could just be swimming. But swimming through water that was bloody was a weird coincidence when Winston had thought those things. Felt them in their mind. Here he was stood in water. “It’s just me, uh Winston, we met the other day at the … station.” Winston swallowed trying to decide how to play this. They really hoped Dave wasn’t a dangerous criminal or just dangerous. He seemed chill.

Dave rubbed his hand over his eyes, knowing full well that wouldn’t help them adjust. But yeah, shit, it was Winston. They were standing at the edge of the lake, jeans rolled up, their shoes abandoned on the rocky shore. In truth, they were a little far away for Dave to hear them all too great nor lipread as easily, but the kid looked slack jawed and deeply uncomfortable, for whatever reason, and Dave would try to be real respectful of that, so he was staying right where he was. In bloody water. Without even thinking about it, he scratched at his scarred up chest. “Yeah, uh, kid, why’re you here? Recreational side’a the lake’s that way.”

Frowning. Winston was vividly aware of the fact that they didn’t have a god reason to be here. They could always pull the police business card but they didn’t have their ID or any justifiable reason to be here. But it also seemed somewhat ironic that they were the one who was being questioned at this moment. Taking a deep breath. Winston took a step forward before immediately regretting it. Bloody water wasn’t going to do their jeans any good and Winston wasn’t sure what getting wet would do for them right now. “I … I was walking and I saw all this blood,” Winston replied in a half shout, “... kind of couldn’t help but wonder what went on. You don’t know why there is like … a LOT of blood… do you?”

“Really? You were walking through that thicket over there with all the trash that’s washed up for the hell of it?” Dave eyed them shrewdly. They were lying, clear as day, but Dave was about to do just the same. He wasn’t about to tell some cop associate that he’d killed an ancient species that pretended to sound like crying babies and used their hand shaped tail to drag all sortsa people to a watery grave? That he still had a bit of said species stuck between his teeth? “I’m fishing, Dane. S’all. Nothin’ for you to worry about.”

Still unable to hear Dave all that well, Winston made the executive decision to press onwards into the lake, rolling their jeans up as far as they would go. “Sure let’s go with that,” Winston replied in agreement with a squint of their eyes, was there something weird about Dave’s teeth. Taking a few steps forward, they couldn’t help but frown. Swallowing their apprehension at the situation, Winston was about to say something when they spotted what were unmistakably not human teeth. Oh! He’s a selkie. Winston thought, it made sense really.

Dave frowned even more deeply, stopping his idle scratch to warn Winston away with his hands. That was too late, though, as he heard them speak, calling him a selkie. His calm, if annoyed demeanor dissipated as he surged through the water up to Winston, faster than he was sure most expected of him these days. He grabbed the front of their shirt and twisted it in his fist as he growled deeply. “What did you just call me?” He asked, his sharp canines only inches away from Winston’s face.

Winston was pretty sure that they hadn’t said anything. In fact, they were certain that they hadn’t even moved their lips. Yet within an astoundingly short amount of time, Winston was being grabbed by the collar of their shirt and dragged forward. “Hey, I didn’t say … I didn’t call you anything,” Winston did their best to protest. But Dave was clearly strong. Why was it that all Selkie’s that Winston had met could kick their ass up and down the sidewalk? Aside from Skye of course. But it would be nice to just have someone who wasn’t so much more … physical then them. It was instinctive, Winston couldn’t help it. It was like the first time they’d used magic against that Hell Hound, there was the pull in their stomach, the heat in the palm, a flash of blinding light and the smouldering smell of skin and hair burning. Winston wasn’t sure exactly what they had done.

“Like hell you didn’t. You sai-“ Dave couldn't finished that thought, as hot air burst from Winston's hand, throwing Dave back. Kid shoulda thought that one through, Dave didn't let go in time, so as he fell in the water, so did the Spellcaster. Because of fucking course the kid's a Spellcaster. Plunging in the water was a relief for the burnt skin and chest hair, gave him a chance to let go and get some distance between them, and think. Like how he hadn't seen Winston's lips move a moment ago. Like how the last few days all he'd heard was these random thoughts about computers he knew nothing about. Dave came up from the water with his hands up - neither way was he up for fighting a Spellcaster without an ambush. "Alright, alright. You didn't say anything, but you thought it, right? Like you been thinking about rams and computers and stuff. You play with mental magic, Winston?"

“Fuck no,” Winston replied with a frown, “I mean, I have played with mental magic before, but only because this lake had a giant squid demon in it and a cult trying to end the world, but I ended up with a third eye from it,” Winston wasn’t sure why they showed Dave their third eye in their hand, they hoped that it would be enough to impress upon Dave how unwilling to fuck around with this shit they were. “I don’t know what’s going on but I’m pretty sure I’ve been hearing your thoughts too, like the fact that you just killed someone or … I guess something as a seal? I don’t know, but I promise I don’t want to hurt you and I really don’t like sharing your thoughts, it’s fucking deafening and I can’t focus on my ram and computers and stuff when you’re constantly making that hmm noise. Like I get that you’re stoic but jesus dude you don’t have to be so gruff ALL the time.” Winston hoped that they didn’t have to blast Dave again. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I know you just killed something and I’m really hoping it wasn’t something that you shouldn’t of killed.”

“Giant squid demon? Nearly sorry I missed it,” Dave said gruffly, touching at his reddened, slightly singed chest, trying to see how bad it was. Nothing he couldn’t handle, nothing needing a doctor. “You pack one hell of a punch, kid.” He almost felt bad for pulling them into the water with him. He narrowed his eyes as Dane ranted. “Alright, alright, I get your point. I ain’t that gruff. Although why you’re always thinking about goats is beyond me.” Hmmmm. “Shit, kid, I killed exactly what I needed to. She was a feisty one. Hold on now,” He rummaged around in the water, until he felt the limb, and lifted the ahuixotl outta the water. Bloody water ran from his flesh where he’d been eaten at its muscles. “I hunt ‘em. That’s all you thought you heard. Real noble of you to run out here to try to save her, although kinda ill advised.”

“Yeah, giant squid demon from the underdark that we lovingly named Squidward, had to carry out a big magic ritual to get everything in the town to a point where we could actually deal with it. Not terrifying in anyway.” Winston bit their lip and looked at the wound on Dave’s chest. “Hey, I’m …. I’m sorry I blasted you, I guess this was just one weird coincidence marred by supernatural involvement.” Pursing their lips, Winston swallowed away the guilt that they were feeling. After all if you were going to grab people by the scruff of their neck then you had to consider that this might happen. “Oh, damn, fuck, now I feel dumb… I guess thanks for killing something else that would’ve liked to hold my head under the water and … well probably eat my bones or some shit afterwards.” Winston felt better, at least Dave was cool, but they guessed that meant that there were other things for them to contend with now. “I can keep a secret, about … the whole selkie thing, if you want. I mean, like, I won’t tell anyone and actually, I know a few selkies in town already that are pretty cool so you’re in good company.”

“Wait, Squidward was the demon? Why were people grieve- Oh” Dave smacked his hand against his head. He’d totally been had by them girls online when he came to town. Right. Good to know. “Sounds like that was one hell of an experience.” He waved away Winston’s apology entirely, unconcerned. “I’ve had worse,” Which was a statement he could rather extensively back up, considering the long, lacerating scars running across his whole body. This’d peel like a sunburn and get it all over with. “They cry like babies so you come to the water thinking you’re about to discover Moses in a wicker basket, and drag you under. Lot’sa things like this in this town, I’m learning.” Winston would keep Dave’s secret if he wanted? Dave huffed, standing up properly in the water now he didn’t need to worry about a spellcaster sizzling half the lake before he could get away. “Shouldn’t need to ask, kid. Keeping secrets should be the default, same as I wouldn’t tell nobody that you’re a spell caster.”

“Oh, yeah, that was probably ironic grieving, or they were part of the angry cult that was trying to let Squidward consume all of White Crest or whatever it’s nefarious plan actually was.” Winston was glad that there weren’t any creepy eye cultists left, they were a real buzz kill. Looking Dave over, Winston was sure that they probably had had worse. There was a gruffness to him that suggested that he had plenty of experience dealing with some of the more terrifying aspects of the supernatural. “Oh, well that would’ve absolutely worked on me, I’ll remember to take any crying noises with a pinch of salt with the recognition that it is probably some awful supernatural creature that is intent on turning me into their dinner. But yeah, this town is a literal hell hole in terms of terrible creatures that want to kill you. Don’t even get me started on the mime problem because honestly fuck mimes. Though I am glad that we didn’t have a carnival that was a murder carnival, I was kind of waiting for that one to specifically break bad to be honest.” Winston nodded, that was a dumb move on their part. “Sorry, sorry, I know, I’m kind of new to all of this and sometimes forget the ‘etiquette’ and the rules that everyone else seems to know about.”

“Mime problem?” Dave repeated, looking at Winston skeptically, wondering if they were yanking his chain. If they weren’t, he wasn’t too sure he wanted to know, either. “Not a carnival guy, but I heard some shit went down there too.” Some weird mirrors, the drowning tea cup ride, the rollercoaster that left people petrified. “That’s the big one. So, Dane, how do we get outta each other’s heads? I’m figuring it ain’t as easy as trying to be quiet. Because I really don’t need to hear all your goat and I-eight-six-b-three or whatever now.” Leaving his pelt underwater for now, not wanting to reveal it to the spellcaster, Dave walked out of the lake, to where he’d left his clothes hidden in the undergrowth, forgetting all sorts of human decency conventions as he did.

“You probably wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, but my honest advice would just be to leave if you see a mime, or kill it. I’m not convinced that they’re actually people.” Winston had the image of themselves dressed in mime gear burned into their retinas. It was a sight that they doubted they would ever get rid of. “I mean, it certainly wasn’t the most mundane of carnivals, but I don’t think that anyone died.” At least no one that Winston had heard of. But they could not help but remember the hall of mirrors. Winston was about to start suggesting various ideas that they had to potentially cure this and all of the research that they were planning to do and all of the things that they could try when Dave just walked over to the lake shore entirely naked. “Uh………” Winston wasn’t sure that they would have blushed that hard ever again if they tried to, “I’ll just look the other way I guess.”

“Right, escape the mimes, watch out for giant squidward demons and ladies making fun of it online, and be careful at the carnivals.” Dave nodded, taking it all in. “I think I got it.” He was waiting for Winston’s reply when they panicked, and Dave remembered that not everyone needed to see his own dangly bits. “I thought you said you knew other selkies. How do you think we get into our seal skin, kid? With jorts on?” Dave rolled his eyes, entirely unashamed at he pulled his boxers and shorts on, where the fabric struggled against his damp skin. He only wore clothes nowadays that would dry fast, and considering he was hot no matter the weather, they’d dry fast too. Once he had his shirt on, he emerged from the thicket to look at Winston again. Even if they’d looked away, their skin was still flushed deeply. Dave chortled. “So the brain untangling thing. Thoughts?”

“Dude, White Crest really is fucked, hearing you say it out loud like that. I don’t know how we’re not all dead.” Winston wasn’t sure what it was. Was it the shock of everything? Maybe. It was the fact that there was an older man that was naked from head to toe in front of their very eyes. Maybe it was the fact that this naked man was actually a shape shifter that could slip into their seal skin at will and change form. Surreal didn’t seem to cover it. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting you to do it in such a blase manner, but you know your confidence is really impressive. So you’ve got that going for you.” Winston needed to disconnect their mind from this person so that they could curl up and die. Swallowing their embarrassment at their sheer awkwardness, Winston sighed. “Uh, well, mental magic is really … finicky and I don’t really know enough to be confident in using it, but I have access to a really big library of magical knowledge and then there’s also the internet, and there are tonnes of people that might be able to help. I guess we should probably try by working out what is actually causing this and then we can work out how we stop it. Did you have a weird dream a few nights ago?”

“Confidence? Kid, I’m just too old to give a fuck,” Dave replied with a bemused snort. At least he was kind enough to not comment on their embarrassment. He looked out to the lake, where we water had grown clearer. Or rather, the blood had diluted so much it weren’t so noticeable anymore, at least not to him. The fish’d had a grand time with the remains of the ahuixiotl. “Right, right. You hit the google and I’ll hit good old fashioned paper. Not that I’d have the foggiest where to start.” He looked up at them. “I have a whole bunch’a weird dreams, constantly. Had one about them hungry sands recently, and woke up with bloody knees. Now I think about it, you were in it. That what you mean?”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Winston replied somewhat glibly. “God I really wish we could just google a fix to this, that would be ideal.” Unfortunately something told Winston that wasn’t the way that this was going to work. It was fine. Coffee would help them through it. “Yeah, exactly. The incredibly terrifying dream where my parents were devoured by the … what did you call it … hungry sands?” Winston had to admit that as phrases for names and places went that was pretty good. “Well, yeah, that was what I meant. I remember you were in it and I also woke up with fairly bloody fingers, like they’d been rubbed raw by something even though I was just in my bed. It was incredibly disconcerting.” Winston swallowed and frowned.

Hmmmmm. “Wonder if it’s the same shit.” Dave rubbed the back of his head, shaking the water out of his hair. That dream had held nightmares of his too. “Anyhow, Dane, I got shit to do. This spellcaster stuff is way above my paygrade. Not looking to play Nancy Drew when I got to get paid for my real job. Why don’t you head off now, and we’ll talk about this some other time.” There was something else behind his words too. No way was he showing a near stranger his pelt, but he couldn’t leave it in the water either.

Raising an eyebrow, Winston swallowed and nodded gently. “I got it, you’ve not got time to extricate me from your head right now, gotta make that bread or whatever.” Why did Winston always have to do everything themselves? Sighing, they turned and waded to the edge of the lake. The cuffs off their jeans soaking wet despite the fact that they had been rolled up, obviously hadn’t made much of a difference.

“If neither of us’s got an answer as to the how, then I don’t see how we can get our brains untangled right now,” Dave replied with a shrug. “And I ain’t signing up to having my head messed with until we know more.” What did Winston expect, a buddy cop movie? Dave sighed, internally and externally. Realising there was a whole chance they would hear that. He crossed his arms, looking back out to the lake as he learnt against a tree. The sooner they were gone, the better.

As Winston turned to walk away, they couldn’t help but think that a buddy cop movie would’ve been nice, Dave might not know it yet, but Winston was now determined to make it happen.

#wickedswriting #para #chatzy #winston #feat one grumpy old man #it's dave #dave's the grumpy old man

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holidaywishes · 5 years

Text

I Never Saw It Coming...

Requested: 👍 kinda

Summary: Jamie Benn mending your heart after Tyler Seguin and/or Mat Barzal break your heart.

Warning: angst, swearing, some fluff, drinking. This one got a lot more angsty than I thought it would, so there may be a trigger warning in here.

Author’s Note: This one’s for @seggstars and @pucksandfics. Fun fact, I wrote two fics (one for Mat and one for Segs) and I’ll post them both. It’s not my best work but it’s not terrible. Anyway! I hope you like it and you can find the Seguin version in my masterlist!

You had gone home with Mat in the postseason with every intention of having the best summer of your lives but two weeks in and you’d barely spent any time together. It’s not like he was ignoring you, he was just upset that his season ended so soon and he wanted to get some extra training in before heading back to Brooklyn.

“Hey sweetie,” Nadia, Mat’s Mom, greeted you as she strode into the kitchen, “how are you doing today?”

“Good. Have you seen Mat today?” you asked

“He’s at the rink…” you thanked her and grabbed your stuff to head down to meet him.

“I’ll see you soon, Nadia!” On your way to see Mat, you wondered why his Mom seemed to be acting so strange but you eventually just forgot about it. When you finally saw Mat, you felt the same butterflies in your stomach that you always did and you smiled to yourself as you watched him rush across the rink.

“Jamie?” you said as you scanned the seats and saw the tall brunette sitting there

“(Y/N)! Hey kid!” he greeted you with a hug

“What are you doing here?” you asked

“Well.. I’m from here.”

“You’re from Kelowna…” he smiled as you pushed him and he laughed

“Close enough” was his only response as you sat down and watched your boyfriend continue his training, smiling every once in a while.

“You’re really happy aren’t you?” Jamie said after a while, breaking the silence

“Shut up,” you nudged, giggling, “but yeah. I think I might love him, Jame…”

“Whoa, big words. You sure?”

“I mean.. I think so. He makes me happy and he gives me butterflies. That’s gotta be something right?”

“Maybe. He’s young though. Younger than you…” you scowled at him sarcastically

“Thank you Captain Obvious” you joked and he shrugged

“I’m just sayin’...”

“Well, don’t worry. It’s only a couple years difference…” You went back to watching Mat, glancing at Jamie every once in a while and furrowing your brow. Shortly after, you met Mat outside the rink, Jamie right beside you and the three of you went for lunch together. It was quiet and a little more awkward than you thought it would be but eventually it evened out and you were all laughing at stupid jokes, Mat’s arm wrapped around you and you leaned your head on his shoulder; finally, the summer feels you had been hoping for.

“So, Jamie. Some of my friends are having a party tonight. You’re welcome to come. I mean it’ll be a… younger crowd,” Mat teased and Jamie scoffed, “but it’ll be a good time.”

“Yeah, me and this oldie will pop by” he gestured to you and you threw a plastic fork at him and you felt Mat squeezed your sides playfully. You parted ways with Jamie and hung out with Mat by the lake for a bit before heading to his friends party and he wasn’t lying when he said it was a younger crowd; the smell of Smirnoff Ice and Bacardi Breezers filled the air and it made you feel like you were back in College. When you noticed Jamie in the corner, you giggled and it forced Mat to look down at you and then over to where your eyes went and he whispered in your ear.

“Maybe you should go save him…” he laid a quick kiss to your neck and you agreed, greeting Jamie with a sympathetic smile

“We’re the oldest people here…” Jamie complained

“We can handle our liquor better than anyone here” you argued and he tipped his beer to clink your Solo Cup. A few hours passed and you had lost track of Mat but you could tell that everyone was getting out of control so, Jamie offered to get rides for everyone while you looked for Mat. You headed upstairs, amazed at how quiet it was for being so close to where the music was coming from, and you called for Mat.

“Babe! Hey…” he came out of one of the bedrooms and tried to divert your attention

“What’s going on…?” you said slowly, concern growing by the second

“Nothing, I was just resting. Trying to sober up a little..”

“No… Mat who’s in there?” you gestured to the room behind him

“What? No one, don’t be stupid,” you stepped back and dropped your mouth at him, “no I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant there’s no one in there.” You almost let it go when you heard a small squeak and you pushed past Mat to open the door.

“(Y/N) wait! Shit” he whispered as you opened the door. What you saw disgusted you. His friends, hovered over an unconscious girl, holding up cameras and egging each other on. Only stopping briefly when they saw you.

“What the hell is this?!” you screamed, rushing to the girls aid

“Mat! What the fuck dude?! You were supposed to be the lookout…” one of the guys said and Mat forced his eyes shut as you glared at him

“Babe, listen to me,” he tried talking to you but you were too focused on getting this girl home safely, thankful in that moment when Jamie walked through the front door.

“I need you to take her home. Here’s her ID, her address should be on there…”

“Everything okay?” he asked and you shook your head, glancing up at Mat as he walked down the staircase.

“(Y/N) listen to me, I tried to stop them,” you scoffed, “I did! I pulled them off her, I got in between them”

“Oh yeah. It sure looked like it Mat”

“It’s not like I did anything! I never fucking touched her!”

“BUT YOU WERE JUST GOING TO LET THEM! THEY FUCKING RAPED THAT GIRL AND YOU WERE THEIR LOOKOUT!!” you yelled, practically ripping out your hair

“I WASN’T THEIR GODDAMN LOOKOUT!”

“No?” you said calmly, “so why did your friend say you were supposed to be the lookout?”

“He’s drunk!!”

“Not good enough. I get that they’re your friends, Mat, but maybe you should consider new friends…”

“What you mean older friends that you can hang out with?”

“NO, LIKE FRIENDS WHO ARE ACTUAL DECENT HUMAN BEINGS!”

“NOTHING HAPPENED?!”

“Do you think I’m blind, Barzal?!”

“This isn’t working”

“What?”

“I thought you’d just let go of whatever weird hangup you had about my friends if I brought you here. But you’re worse than I ever thought you’d be. You’re overreacting! Nothing happened. But, whatever, it’s not working.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re dumping me because I’m not okay with you or your Frat Boy friends raping someone?”

“Not exactly” you rolled your eyes and waited outside the door for the cab you called before you yelled at Mat, tears streaming down your face from both anger and sadness.

“(Y/N)?” Jamie called out to you as he pulled up in front of the house, “what happened are you okay?”

“Is she okay? The girl?”

“She’s home, she’s safe”

“Good. Can you take me home?”

“To Mat’s?”

“No, to my parents place. Mat and I broke up…”

“Too young?” Jamie said, trying to lighten the mood and you broke down into a fit of sobs and incomprehensible words, “okay okay. Let’s go. Get in the car…”

“I never saw it coming…” you said, tears still falling down your cheeks as you sat on your porch with Jamie, “the break up was bad enough but, god, Jamie, you would’ve snapped if you saw it. They were taking turns with this girl. They had cameras! It makes me sick. What’s worse? Mat has a sister that girls age!” He rubbed your back as you continued

“I’m sorry, kid”

“I don’t know how to feel about him. He was such a good guy yesterday, earlier today, he wasn’t this guy. The guy who watches his friends rape a drunk girl unconscious at a party. Or lets them do it. He’s not that guy. That’s not the guy I loved.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t love him then?” you let out a violent sob and Jamie held you close, “it’ll get better… I’m here if you need someone to complain to or cry on.” You looked up at him through your eyelashes and caught a glimpse of something soft you’d rarely ever seen in Jamie. You pulled your head up to look at him a little closer before pulling his lips to yours. You had just enough alcohol in your body to know this was a mistake but also just enough not to care. When he kissed you back, you adjusted your body just enough so you could wrap your arms around his neck and he responded by pulling you into his lap. You knew it was a bad idea, and even worse timing, but right now you couldn’t stop yourself. Your heart was broken, your ideals were shattered and Jamie’s lips seem to make all the bad stuff fade away.

So, for right now, just for a little while, you’d let his hands roam your skin and follow his tongue with yours, combing your fingers through his hair and pushing your chest against his. Because damn it felt good.

But more than that, you needed him.

#Mat Barzal #Jamie Benn #NHL Fluff #NHL imagine #Requested #sorta #angst #trigger warning?

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purplebenjy · 4 years

Text

2005-Part 1

“I’m not going to know how to talk to them.”

He’s pacing in front of the couch, Darling following his every turn. Benjy’s been muttering to himself on and off in Gujarti for the past ten minutes or so, meaning Cass could still continue to read whatever incredibly thick and dense book he was reading. It was supposedly fiction, and not assigned reading and therefore ‘for fun’ and Benjy didn’t understand how he was able to fit that in on top of grad school work, nor what the hell the story was supposed to be about even though Cass had patiently explained it at least three times.

Saying something in English, however, gains his boyfriend’s attention. Benjy hears the book thud close but he doesn’t stop moving.

“I’m not gonna go.”

“You are gonna go. You’ve been talking about this and been so excited for the past two weeks.”

Benjy stops to face Cass, taking a moment to let himself admire the view. His hair was short enough that it was curling around his forehead and over the tops of his ears-he needed a hair cut, but he was letting it go back to his natural color, which Benjy loved almost as much as he loved Cass. His newly acquired wire glasses were perched on the end of his nose and they magnified his eyes-Benjy could see the little crease when he smiled. He was wearing a white and blue striped shirt that Benjy had bought him cause he thought it made him look like a pirate with black jeans. He’d painted his nails yellow the night before, but, as usual, all Benjy can do is stare at his lip piercing.

“Benj.”

He looks into his boyfriend’s eyes and sighs.

“Don’t give me that sexy professor look, you know it works on me.”

Cass raises his eyebrows at him.

“The disappointed ‘I can’t believe you’re joking about that’ look works on me too, Cassie.”

“You’re deflecting.”

Benjy whines closes the short distance to the couch, replacing the book with himself on Cass’s lap.

“Maybe.”

“Not maybe.”

He presses his face into the front of Cass’s shoulder and sighs.

“What if they don’t like me?”

“Wanna try that again and look at me? Perhaps looking at me and not muffled?”

“No.”

“Benj.”

“Don’t Benj me.” He says, sitting up and tracing the shell of his ear.

“It worked.”

“Didn’t.”

Cass catches his hand and pulls Benjy into a kiss. He feels himself relax against Cass’s touch, letting out a sigh.

“What if they don’t like me?”

Cass smiles at him softly.

“I don’t think that’s humanly possible.”

“I’m being serious.”

Cass shifts on the beanbag, causing them both to sink in more.

“I am too. Speaking as a former teen admitted against his will in a psych ward, I would’ve liked you.”

Benjy smiles. He’d been feeling stuck the past couple of months since graduation-the agents who had shown interest in his work at his showcase hadn’t had time to meet with him yet-though he had a few voicemails insisting they’d make some time for him in the next couple of months. He’d vented about it at group, talked about how he was trying not to be so hard on himself and not let this be any sort of ‘proof’ to what Forest had said about Benjy not being able to find success on his own. Bernie, their facilitator, had pulled him aside after to tell him about the art therapy volunteer program at the same hospital that ran their program. After a background check that was shockingly clean, he was all set up to teach patients painting skills, giving them something to do while in recovery, a positive outlet. His first session was today, and he’d specifically requested teenagers, for a lot of reasons but the main one was currently wrapping his arms around Benjy’s waist.

“What if I don’t know what to say?”

“Hasn’t happened yet.”

Benjy laughs softly and brings their lips together for another kiss. He doesn’t have to leave for another hour and he’s had his stuff packed since he’d woken up that morning. He presses himself against Cass’s chest and closes his eyes, only opening them when he hears the sound of a page turning.

“Are you reading right now? While I’m moping?”

“You’re not moping out loud.”

“Hmm.”

He tries and fails to glare at Cass’s smile.

“Can I uh, ask you one more question and then I’ll leave you alone?”

Cass pushes his glasses up on his nose and Benjy reaches up for another kiss before he responds.

“That’s not true, but sure.”

He looks away from his boyfriend, his attention drawn to the faint scars he can see at the top of Cass’s forearms.

“It’s pretty stupid-”

“I guarantee it’s not.”

“Is it scary? To be there?”

Cass nods slowly, his eyes looking up and away like he always did when he was thinking.

“Like to visit? Or to be there?”

“Both, I guess.” Benjy says, shifting so he can properly trace the lines on Cass’s arms. “I feel like a coward for even asking.”

“Benj.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else, he rarely does.

“Okay, not a coward just...I don’t know. I wanna be prepared, I guess.”

Cass nods again.

“Yes, it’s scary. Not like those movies I make you watch it’s more...jarring I think would be the better word. Cause there’s sick people all around you and they’ll all kind of look like it. With the scrubs or gowns or sweats they’ve got on. And it was scary to be there, obviously but…” He taps lightly three times on the back of Benjy’s hand.

“It’s also a place that makes people better. And it’s obviously a good one if they’re doing something like this-once I realized that, at least kind of, it made it a little less scary. Some of the kids you’re gonna be with might be there, some of them might be scared--and some of them probably aren’t gonna care. That’s where I was for a lot of it, Benj. Just kind of...there, I guess, until they got me talking to Kevin and stuff…”

Cass trails off and Benjy bends forward to kiss some of the scars on his left arm.

“I’m glad you’re here, baby.”

Cass smiles at him, lifting his head slightly and cupping his face with his right hand.

“Me too. “

The staff had been almost too friendly and enthusiastic, chattering away about how they’ve been trying to find someone who fit to do this for a long time. Benjy made small talk easily, but couldn’t really focus, a little too worried about how it was going to go.

“And I’ll be in there, just in case anyone needs assistance-and truthfully because I’d like to pick up a thing or two, too.” Benjy smiles at that, reading the name ‘Dorcas’ on the nurse’s ID tag. She leaves him to set up, telling him he’s going to have three patients plus herself. He puts a few pieces of the weird paperboard canvas they’d told him to buy (no staples) and a bunch of non toxic paints at each of the little tables they’d set out. He smiles to himself at the rickety old easel someone (probably Dorcas) had put out for him, and decides to use it instead of his travel one. He puts his bags in the corner of the room closest to him and waits, rocking back and forth on his heels. He’d turned in his cellphone at the front desk, and he was too jittery to try to text right now anyway. He grabs one of the soft lead pencils he’d set out and starts sketching, instantly relaxing and almost calm by the time Dorcas and her patients came in. The first was a teenage girl with long, dirty, blonde hair, so thin Benjy could see her ribs through her grey sweatshirt. She shot him a shakey smile and sat down at the first table, right beside Dorcas who reached over and gave her a hand a squeeze as soon as she sat down herself. The second was a boy who was only a little taller than Benjy with very dark circles under his eyes and a weird sort of shuffle walk, he didn’t look up when he entered the room and sat at the middle table. The third was a girl who looked absolutely and totally average-a big shock of curly brown hair that went down to her shoulders-frizzy but well cared for. She had poked thumb holes through her sweatshirt sleeves and had them pulled up to her knuckles-she already looked bored and raised her eyebrows skeptically at Benjy’s set up before sliding into a seat at the back table. Four pairs of eyes were on him now, and Benjy takes a breath before grinning at them.

“Hi, uh, you probably already know why you’re here, but-I’m Benjy. I...Bernie, who i think some of you know, he’s helped me to get better, he’s helped me a lot, but um, nothing’s really helped me feel better like painting has.”

“Not even meds?”

The girl in the back has a glint in her eyes that makes Dorcas frown and turn around, but Benjy laughs.

“Fair enough. Almost nothing has made me better than painting. That work for you?”

She shrugs. Benjy continues.

“Art uh, it’s actually helped a lot of people for a long time. Which sounds like I’m making it up, but I promise I’m not. I’m not really good at talking in front of people really but…”

He shuffles some stuff around on his easel and turns it to them, showing them a print of Starry Night.

“Vincent Van Gogh was an impressionist painter--that was a period of art in the 1870s and 1880s-a fucking long time ago-I probably shouldn’t swear, huh?”

Dorcas kind of shrugs and Benjy laughs.

“Well anyway, Vincent struggled for a really long time but there’s evidence through letters and stuff that he wrote when he was around that painting made him feel better. He’s considered one of the best artists ever, and he did a lot of his work when he was in hospitals to get better. I don’t know if any of you guys care about that, but I thought it was pretty neat. So-uh, one of the styles in Vincent’s time period was to like, make a bigger picture out of little shapes. Like dots or squares. That’s what I thought we could try to today but uh, for me, the best part of painting is you can do whatever you want. So let’s just go-”

He catches himself before he says ‘go nuts’. Nice one, Benjy.

“Let’s just go-”

“Van Gogh?” The girl in the back pipes up. Benjy laughs.

“Sure. Paint whatever you want. Just kind of...let it out, you know? You can paint what you’re feeling, you can paint something you want, something you think is cool, something you hate...it’s literally always up to you, you know? You’re in control of what you make. I always liked that.”

He pulls his own table over to everyone else’s and starts setting up.

“I think we’ll just kind of sit here and make shit-if that’s okay with you guys?”

Dorcas, the boy and the blonde girl both nod and Benjy smiles. The girl in back already has a paint brush out and is getting to work.

“I’m gonna do that impressionist thing I was talking about, if anyone wants to do it with me.If you have any questions just ask.”

“I have one.”

Curly girl dips her brush into the black and makes eye contact with him.

“Shoot.”

“What fucked you up?”

“Deena!” Dorcas turns around in her chair, obviously pissed, but Benjy laughs, dipping his brush into the blue and speaking as he starts to do a background wash.

“No, no, it’s okay. Really. I was in a very emotionally and physically abusive relationship when I was nineteen. I was able to get out-which I’m very grateful for-but the person I was involved with was in a position of authority over me and it was incredibly damaging and stressful.”

Benjy starts mixing a purple and glances up at Deena. She addresses her canvas as she speaks.

“So you got beaten up by a girl?”

“Sorry about her.” The blonde girl speaks in an impossibly soft yet somehow fierce voice. “She’s attention starved.”

“You’re not supposed to bring up shit we talk about in group, Katie.”

“You’re also not supposed to make someone else share their story if they don’t want to.” Katie retorts, a flash of fire appearing in her expression. She holds up her canvas to show Benjy, she’s made a tiny sun out of yellow dots.

“Is that okay?”

He smiles.

“That’s great, Katie. But you don’t have to show me, I’m not grading you or anything-if you like it then it’s perfect.”

She nods, her lips tight as she scruntizes her work and then dips her brush back into the yellow.

“And to answer your question, Deena. No, I wasn’t beaten up by a girl-though that does happen, anyone can be abusive. But my abuser was in fact another man.”

“It was?”

The boy looks up for the first time really, his whole demeanor changing and making Benjy’s heart break in half at the wonder in his voice. Benjy nods.

“Yeah. He wasn’t great, but my new boyfriend is.”

“And your parents are cool with it?”

Benjy bites on the inside of his cheek and takes a breath, looking down at the paint so he doesn’t have the wrong reaction.

“Mine are but...Cass’s weren’t as cool. My mom’s the coolest person in the world, actually, so pretty hard to beat. But, you know, Cass and I kind of made our own family. It was hard for him for a little bit but he’s uh-I mean not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty amazing and I think I make him happy.”

He glances over at Dorcas, who seems only to be concerned with the boy, not reacting at all to Benjy outing himself. He should’ve figured as much given that he knew Bernie from a support group for LGBTQA victims of partner violence, but still. It was nice to know he could be as much as himself as he wanted to.

“That’s good.” The boy says quietly, picking up his paintbrush for the first time. They play with the paint for another fifteen minutes or so, just making small talk which mostly consisted of Deena asking a variety of personal and art related questions.

“Okay I’m gonna come around and see if I can give you any tips. I’m hardly an expert-”

“Whoa.” The boy, who Benjy knew was named RJ, was staring at the painting on Benjy’s table. It was a portrait loosely based on Cass, per usual, but he was all different shades of purple triangles. “You didn’t tell us you were good.”

Benjy laughs.

“Good is relative.”

“I’m not impressed.”

“Thanks, Deena.”

He encourages Katie to be a little looser with her strokes, guiding her hand into a more flowing motion as she paints a sea scape. Dorcas had a canvas completely covered in red spots that she told Benjy was either a fire or a tomato fight. He showed her how to try to make shading. RJ had just painted a bunch of triangles fitting together, all impossibly small and not colored in. Benj had given him a half assed explanation of color theory and moved back to Deena. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Her entire canvas was covered in penises with angel wings on them. When she glances up, a big grin on her face, Benjy tries to keep his face neutral.

“You said to paint what we wanted.”

“Interesting interpretation. Are you going for a realistic rendering or do you want it to be more cartoonish?”

He sees surprise cross her face. Benjy guessed she was waiting for him to lose his patience, to tell her she was being innapropriate, get mad at her for not taking it seriously. He smiles pleasantly at her-waiting for her response.

“Um...what do you think?”

Benjy shrugs. “Doesn’t matter what I think. It’s not my painting. I can show you how to do both.”

Deena blinks down at them.

“I say cartoony cause it’s a little-”

“Ridiculous?” Benjy says, his smile growing. Deena laughs for the first time, and Benjy almost thinks he hears embarrassment in her voice.

“Yeah.”

“I like it, it’s hilarious. And even if it’s ridiculous, if it makes you feel good to paint it, who gives a shit, right? If you make the lines a little bolder on one end and then have it taper off towards the other, you can kind of give them a little like, comic book-y effect, do you wanna try?”

He watches her try and nods.

“Good, now do that however many times you’ve uh, made one of those.”

“There’s sixty-nine of them.”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

Deena laughs again. Benjy glances up at Dorcas and finds actual surprise on her face which leads him to believe that this isn’t a side to Deena seen all of the time.

“Don’t get paint on your sleeves, or I mean do. Everything I own is covered in paint.”

“I don’t think I technically own this.”

Deena rolls up her sleeves and Benjy is glad she’s focused on her painting so she can’t see the change in his face he knows is there. The bandages up her arms are white save for almost perfect lines of rust red at three places on her wrists.

“You’re doing great, D.” Benjy says, keeping his voice even as he swallows against the emotion in his throat. Deena whips her head up at him.

“Did you just call me D?”

“Oh-yeah, sorry. I won’t if you don’t want me to. My family has a thing with nicknames-”

She smiles at him, a real smile. A sad smile. A scared smile.

“No, it’s ok. My family does too. That’s what my parents call me. I like it.”

“It suits you.” Benjy says, watching her work.

“Cause I’m a dick?”

Benjy laughs.

“Not what I was going for, but sure. Sure.”

Their hour passes quickly, and when they’re done, Dorcas promises to be right back after she takes Katie to her room. Rj nods at him, holding his painting close to his chest. Deena pulls her sweatshirt sleeves down and marches to the front of the room, presenting Benjy with the flying dicks.

“Here. Something to remember me by.”

Benjy laughs.

“Well first of all, you’re fairly unforgettable. Second of all, I’m coming back next week.”

Deena’s face lights up.

“Really?”

“Yeah I mean if y’all want me back-”

“We do.” Deena actually blushes, realizing how quickly she’d spoken. She pushes the painting at him again.

“I still want you to have it.”

“I can’t take it until you sign it, dude. A true artist always signs it.”

“Oh good call, it’s gonna be worth millions some day.”

Deena takes the pencil Benjy’s holding and scribbles something in the corner before pressing the painting and pencil back into his hands.

“See you next week.”

She smiles at him again before stomping out of the room, picking at the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Benjy looks down at the hastily scribbled “D” with a little heart next to it and smiles.

“I’m really glad you were here, Deena.”

He’s not sure if she hears him at first, until she turns around and flips him the bird. Benjy watches her dissapear down the hall and then waits for Dorcas, looking down at the flying dicks and very glad he was there too.

#self para #drabble #2005

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kind-wolf · 5 years

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My Billy Russo dream

Warnings: nsfw, kinda smutty in the beginning, cursing, fighting, blood, gore, murder, guns, (typical Punisher stuff, I would say)

Word count: ~3110

A/N: To make it a bit easier to read, I wrote it down, like most fanfics are written: In second person (I guess?) Also, some parts were really clear in my dream, but describing them on paper was kinda difficult. So, yeah…. 🙈 Hope this is at least somewhat entertaining.

Billy, Frank, Karen and you were signed-up in a tough mudder run a few hours outside of the city. You rented a two bedroom apartment in the small town the event was held in. The night before the run, you settled in and each couple retired to their bedroom. While you were still getting undressed, Billy sat on the bed in only his boxers and asked: "Why am I doing this again? You know, I was pretty happy not having to crawl through mud anymore when I quit the marines." You walked over, standing between his legs in just your underwear. Running your fingers through his hair and tilting his head back you kissed him before cooing: "Naww, it's an adventure. I'm sure you'll enjoy showing all these wannabe tough guys, how it's really done. And don't you always say, you enjoy when I get dirty? I will be as dirty as never before."

After shaking his head with an amused chuckle, he pulled you closer and pressed a teasing kiss to your stomach. "You know, I meant a different kind of dirty." "Really?" You questioned. But before he could think of a witty reply, you dropped to your knees, ran your hands up his thighs and to the waistband of his boxers. "This kind of dirty?" You asked with a grin, pulling the waistband down just a bit. Leaning forward you teasingly licked at the exposed tip of his cock. "That's the kind, yeah." He confirmed, anticipation clear in the husky tone of his voice and the fingers burying themselves in your hair. You pulled the fabric of his underwear down some more, when there was a knock on the door. You had barely enough time to release the waistband and pull your head back, before the door opened. "Hey guys, I hope you're not asleep yet, I just had the best id-... Oh shit!" Karen stopped dead in her tracks, when her eyes landed on you, on your knees between Billy's legs. "Karen!" You squeaked, not really knowing what else to say in the moment. She quickly covered her eyes. "I'm so sorry guys. I... I forgot myself in the excitement." Your were still a bit mortified, but Billy didn't seem to feel the same. He snickered. "You could've just asked if Frankie doesn't get the job done and you would like to join us instead." Karen stumbled back, trying to find her way back out the door without looking. "No...That's not... That's really not for me. Ughhh have a good night you two."

With that the door slammed shut and you dissolved into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in embarrassment.

The next day, after an awkward breakfast, with you and Karen mostly staring in your cereal, while Frank and Billy just grinned at each other in amusement, you all left the apartment. However, just then a courier ran into you, asking for William Russo. Billy accepted the large envelope with visible wariness. By the looks of it, his mind was already running a million miles per hour. And yours quickly followed. Hardly anyone knew that you were here - pretty much only Curtis and your family. And they didn't know the exact address. It was just a weekend away, you didn't bother with details. Excusing himself, Billy went back to your room. While Frank and Karen sat on the couch in the living room, you quietly followed him. Just in time to see his lips pull back in a snarl before a hissed "Shit!" escaped them. "What is it?" you asked when he threw the contents of the envelope on the bed and started pacing. Seeing that you wouldn't get an immediate answer while he was lost in his thoughts, you looked at the stuff on the bed. The pictures caught your eye first. There were more than a handful of them. Billy and you, You alone, Billy and Frank, you and Karen, Billy and you, Billy and you, Billy and you. They were taken just yesterday when you went out to dinner and In every one there was a big red X marking your head. But the letter made it even worse. It were only a few words, that made your skin crawl. "Don't play games when you have something to lose." You swallowed. "Billy, what's going on?" Your voice coming out more strained than usual, got him to reply. "Pack your shit. You and Karen leave with Frankie, he knows how to lay low for a couple of days. I'll... I'll take care of this." You stepped into his path, stopping him with a firm hand pressed to his chest. "Hold your horses cowboy! You will tell me what's going on first and then we'll decide what to do. Together." By the way his mouth immediately opened, you could tell he wanted to dismiss you and simply get you to follow his orders, but he seemed to think better of it. You weren't one to take orders, just because. Billy let out a huge sigh and dropped his forehead to yours.

You both sat down on the bed and he gave you a quick rundown on the situation. Bottom line was, he dug up some dirt on some very bad people and got them in trouble with it. He thought he hid his identity well enough but apparently they found out. And here you were, in their crosshairs.

You stood from the bed and offered him your hand. "Ok, first things first. Let's tell Frank and Karen to go to the ground for a few days. Then we can figure out what to do about your new friends."

He grabbed your shoulders, fixing you with his best no-bullshit-stare. "You have to go with them."

Only it didn't work on you. It never had. "I will not leave you to deal with this alone." You clarified, staring right back at him.

He tilted his head back, exhaling loudly through his nose before he tried again. "I got it under control. I'll call in some guys. But if something would happen to you, I couldn't… I couldn't take it, alright?"

Your hand came up to rest on his cheek, wishing to take the stress from him. "Exactly. If I were to go with them, your new friends would probably focus a lot more energy on finding us, just to screw with you. And no offense to Frank, but he would prioritize protecting Karen over me, which I wouldn't blame him for. But if something would happen to me, you would blame him. And we both know how that would end. And don't tell me you get some more Anvil guys to protect me. Again, no offense, but I trust most of them as far as I can throw them."

Billy paused, considering your words for a few moments before his lips twitched into the tiniest smile. "That's a surprisingly well thought-through argument. What other way do you suggest then?"

You playfully patted his cheek. "Yeah yeah very funny, I have my moments. Anyway, I'll go with you. We go somewhere... let them come to us so we have the advantage and then we dispose of them.”

At your words his expression changed into one of utter disbelief. “You...Shit! That’s insane… You realize what you're saying here? I know you're able to handle yourself in a bar fight. But this… Killing someone...you...you're not trained for this, you don't know what you're saying.”

“I know that I will do whatever it takes...” You picked up one of the pictures, waving it in his face. “... to make sure we survive this."

“Shit!” Billy cursed again, knowing there was nothing he could do against your stubborn streak.

There was a lot more arguing when you filled Karen and Frank in. They wanted you to come with them. It was also quite obvious that Frank would offer Billy his help, were it not for the woman by his side. But you really couldn't blame him.

In the end, your best friends had to admit that if you set your mind on something, you would do it - come hell or high water.

With a rough draft of a plan for the next couple of days worked up, you all quickly packed your bags and went separate ways.

After losing your tail and making a quick stop at a warehouse on the outskirts of New York to pick up a load of Billy's equipment including some tactical gear for you both, you kept on driving - mostly in silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts.

The cabin Billy rented under a false name was actually kinda cozy. If it weren't for the imminent threat, you would have really enjoyed spending a lazy weekend here in the middle of the woods.

As soon as you arrived, he had started to prepare everything. First outside - Cameras, lots of them. You honestly lost track after a while of watching him from the porch. Back inside, he strategically hid weapons in all rooms - just in case. You followed him around, trying to remember all places he hid them. The bedroom upstairs was last. He finally turned to you and handed you a gun. "You remember how to use it, right? Just in case."

Suppressing the need to roll your eyes, you responded with a firm "Yes."

Billy looked at you with an unreadable expression and just as he was about to speak again, there was an alarm from his phone. One of the cameras he set up on the driveway had been activated. "Shit! They were fast."

Without sparing you a glance he grabbed his rifle and positioned himself at the window, ready to hit the first thing that entered his line of sight. "Go, hide in the bathroom. Lock the door. If I can't hold them off, you can squeeze through the window, climb down the rain pipe and get to the car." He ordered, voice colder than you ever heard.

"I'm-..." you cut yourself of when you saw Billy take the first shot. After a moment you could hear voices from outside. More voices than you would've liked.

Billy pulled the trigger again. "Go. NOW." He barked, clearly getting agitated by your lack of compliance.

"I'm not hiding." You hissed back, when you came to stand beside the window he was shooting from.

Billy pulled his rifle from the window and quickly ducked to stand on the other side of it, just before the glass of the window burst inward with your attackers bullets.

You couldn't help but flinch.

Billy glared at you but quickly averted his gaze to carefully peer out the window to see if he can get another hit in. "Stop that! I'm… " You paused when you spotted movement outside the other window of the room. You ran over and carefully peered out. "I got three approaching from this side." You informed Billy, your argument momentarily forgotten.

He dashed over to you and fired two shots through the window before ducking out of sight. Bullets immediately pelted against the outside wall and through the window. "This is not the time to be stubborn. You don't have to get right in the middle of this." As quickly as it came, the firing from outside stopped.

But the quiet didn't last long. There was a crash that clearly indicated the destruction of the front door.

"They're inside." Billy unnecessarily commented in a whisper, changing to a smaller weapon. "I try to pick them off on the stairs from here." He glanced around the doorway and immediately started firing. The sound of bodies hitting the ground was quickly overridden by rapid gunfire. Billy spared a quick glance at you, standing behind him, gun ready. "When I go out there, you-... "

"I will be right behind you." you finished before he could come up with more bullshit.

Billy fired blindly around the corner to keep them at bay while he glared at you. "Up close it gets real ugly. I… I Don't want you to see this."

He reloaded his gun and fired around the corner again, so he couldn't see you throwing your hands up. But the clearly could hear your exasperated scoff. "For god's sake! I can't believe it. You're worried I will see you differently after this. You still think I can't see you for who you are. Who you are behind that handsome face, that gorgeous hair and that dazzling smile."

Billy licked his lips as he glanced back at you for a second. "Do you? Do you really?"

It took you a moment to register the look in his eyes. It was almost like a challenge.

But you didn't have time to linger on that thought as Billy suddenly leaped and grabbed a guy that was about to enter the room. He put a bullet through the man's skull, using him as a shield as another man appeared through the doorway.

Billy was about to pull the trigger when blood splattered from the man's head and he went down.

When Billy pushed the body he was holding to the side and glanced at you in surprise, your gun was still pointing to the door, ready to put a bullet into anyone that dared to enter. No hint of shock or remorse on you face.

Your voice unexpectedly didn't waver when you continued your previous argument. "I do. I see the man that when he enters a room, immediately maps out all the possible exits. I see a man that appears relaxed but is always alert because he always expects the worst."

There were now bullets ricocheting off the doorway and footsteps drawing closer. And then - a smoke grenade landed right before your feet.

Billy hurried to stand with you, pressed chest to chest beside the door with your guns ready. "I see the man that sleeps like a baby, no matter what questionable job he did that day, because he'd seen and done much worse in the past." You whispered.

Unexpectedly, your feet were pulled out from under you. You hit the ground with a yelp and your gun clattering to the floor.

Due to the smoke Billy couldn't take a shot without risking to hit you when you were pulled away. So he reached out to pull you back.

You gave a sudden yell, that made Billy's blood freeze. The growled "Motherfucker!" that followed at least assured him that you were still kicking.

And you were quite literally kicking, despite the burning of the knife sticking in the flesh of your upper thigh. When your attacker tried reaching for the knife again, your body knew what to do on its own accord, the endless hours spent grappling in jiu-jitsu lessons, finally being put to good use.

Billy could barely make out you and your attacker struggling on the ground, but he couldn't help as there was the shadow of the next one right above you and he leaped at him, with his knife at the ready.

In the background he could hear a deep grunt and then your breathless voice. "I see the man that sometimes has a hard time keeping all that anger towards the whole world inside of him."

You just shoved the guy you killed with his own knife off of you, when you spotted another one approaching the blurry mess you assumed was Billy fighting with another attacker. Without a second thought, you jumped at the guy, pulling him to the ground and stabbing blindly at him until he went still. "I see the man that builds up a distance after every little disagreement between us, because he's worried I will leave him."

You looked up at the sound of a dull thud and saw Billy wiping his knife on his pants before shoving it back in its sheath.

You pushed yourself up on shaky feet and despite the incredible ache in your body and the ever growing dark spot on your pant leg, flashed him a cheeky smile. "And most importantly I see the man that loves me with all his heart even though he's too afraid to admit it out loud."

He only stared at you.

"You hear that?" You could hear nothing. Only silence. "I think we've done it, eh?"

Billy was still staring at you when he slowly nodded. "Yeah… I… I'm just gonna have a quick look around. Stay here."

When he came back two minutes later, he found you perched on the edge of the bed, trying to muster some enough strength to tie your belt around your bleeding leg.

"Shit! I got it." He cursed, dropping to his knees before you and taking over the task. "You good?" He finally asked, stroking your cheek, without caring about the mess of blood and sweat on the both of you.

You gave him a reassuring smile, covering your hand with his. "I'm alright. He didn't hit an artery or something, so I reckon I'll be fine. What about you? Your sleeve looks soaked!"

Billy glanced at his arm. "It's fine. Just a graze."

You looked around the room, bodies strewn all over the place. But you survived. Relief finally made its way into your very bones. You survived and so did Billy.

His gaze hadn't left you for minutes.

When you at last couldn't take the stare anymore you looked back at him. "What?"

"You're so fucking hot right now." Before you could even question that statement, his lips were on yours. He tasted like blood, desperation, joy and relief - all at once.

"Marry me!" He blurted out as soon as you parted for air.

You weren't sure if you were starting to hallucinate from blood loss or something. "What?"

"You were right. I love you. More than I could ever imagine loving anyone or anything." He fumbled around in one of his many pockets before presenting you a ring box.

"Marry me." He repeated without a hint of hesitation in his voice.

Through the tears of joy that suddenly gathered on your eyes, you chuckled, gesturing around the room - pointing out the not-so-romantic setting you were currently in. "You're insane."

Billy nervously licked his lips and flashed you one of his winning smiles. "Yeah, but you knew that, didn't you? Since you know aaall about who I am behind that oh-so-handsome face."

A big smile spreading on your grimy face, you nodded, holding out your dirty hand. "Yes. Yes I do."

Billy slid the now blood-smeared ring onto your even bloodier finger. There was no time to admire it anyway, since you were immediately pulled into another kiss.

#billy russo #n*fw #wolf talks

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itoshit · 3 years

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I was desperate to jump, but I've noticed how time passed, and how I didn't move. Thirty minutes after and I was still on the edge, feet dangerously close to the void. I just wanted to see Vee one last time, to hear her voice, to feel her lips on mine. To be with her. I knew I wasn't the best at expressing my feelings, especially positive feelings such as the one that I felt for her. That's also probably the reason why I was in this situation in the first place. I was dumb when it came to things like that. What would have happened if I decided to take her in my arms and tell her that I liked her? Instead of that, I made Vee hate me, because I'm a fucking bastard.

Sitting on the edge, feet dangling above the void, I closed my eyes.

If Vee was by my side, I could do it. But she wasn't, would never be anymore.

How did I end up like this? I would have loved to have, for once, someone who has stayed in my life. And I really thought she would be the one.

It was now 10 pm, an entire hour has passed, without me taking any decision. But why push the inevitable? Standing up, feet now halfway in the void, I closed my eyes again, feeling the strong wind on me, making me shiver a bit.

I seemed to hear a door open, and footsteps. But I wasn't sure, not that I cared anyway.

And as I was finally ready to let myself fall, I felt small arms wrapping around my waist, and pulling me to them.

Falling on the body, I could only hear cries and then, a broken voice.

You fucking idiot

Eyes opening wide at her voice, I straightened up, and turned my body, now facing her.

Vee...? What are you- oh. I see

Resting my head on her chest, I sighted, peaceful.

I'm already dead... and that's my last seconds. I've heard about it, people's brain still functions for a minute after the fall. Fuck that feels good to be in your arms one last time. You know. I always wanted to say it to you but never had the guts to, I love you. Or should I say I loved you? Since I'm not alive anymore. I wanted nothing more than spend my life with you but I wasted it away. I'm happy that my last breath is spent by your side.

Breathing deeply, I tightened my grip on her body, making sure to engrave every detail in my mind. The way her chest rose each and every time she was inhaling air, her scent, her voice, her hands on my body, and her heart beats.

Nuzzling my head deeper in her chest, I chuckled a bit.

God I miss you so so much Venus, if I had to redo everything, I would kiss you like there's no tomorrow in that hospital room. I would have taken you on that bed, and every morning, and every night of my damn existence. I would have never been able to assure you a happy and relaxed life, but what I've would have been sure of, would've been that: I would have feel you loved. I'm sorry, I probably don't have much more time. But be sure of something Venus, I wish you a lifetime of happiness.

I... you're not- Manji'. You're not dead...

-Mikey

So many 'would have', not even sure if I wrote them correctly lmao. Sorry for the long wait, I'm leaving tomorrow so I need to clean the place! And yeah I've eaten, hope you did too baby! I rlly loved your part 🥰

i love your part pls. this mf thought he died n went to heaven. boy open ur dumb ass eyes.

He really was stupid. Truly.

Staring at his hollow face, bags reinforced beneath his eyes—his whole hollow face, not deformed and warped from being split open on concrete, the fear of him dying seemed to vanish into thin air.

You’re so fucking selfish, Sano Manjirō.

He was about to confess he loved me, something I once would’ve died to hear come from his mouth, just because he thought he was dead? All that vulnerability, his deepest thoughts, supposed last moments and he thought because he was about to see God he should just air it all out now? It was cheap. So fucking cheap.

Were you just going to leave everybody here?

I pawed at my face furiously, trying to wipe away the tears that felt like magma streaming down my face. They didn’t stop. Neither did I.

What about your executives? Your allies? You think Sanzu’s equipped to run Bonten, especially after his leader went ahead and killed himself? Huh? That any of them would be ready to just keep going without you? Did you even think about them? Did you even think about me? How could you expect them to live with that? How could you expect me to live with that?

If Dante were to come up here, he would have most likely laughed. With me crying my eyes out and simultaneously shouting at Mikey from the top of my lungs and Mikey just looking dazed, slowly catching up to the fact that he was alive and I was really standing before him, we probably looked like a couple from a television novella.

But I wasn’t laughing. Mikey was just so selfish. He acted as if he was the only one who felt so strongly. As if he was the only one who was scared of what’ll happen to the people you cared for. As if he was the only one who loved hard and wanted to protect them. He was so selfless, he didn’t even notice when that warped into selfishness. I hated that about him. I hated how he carried the world on his shoulders, and I hated how he felt like only he deserved to do so. That only him needed to make sacrifices. I hated that he was about to end his life so soon because he couldn’t bear the weight alone. I hated that he thought he was the only one suffering these past six months. I hated that I still worried about him during that time, waking up after seeing his face in my dreams to reach over and pull him closer to me as if I could singlehandedly defeat anything coming to hurt him only to realize he wasn’t there.

I hated that I loved him still, after all this fucking time.

Leaning into his chest, feeling the steadiness of his heartbeat, a reminder of what he almost gave up, I shakily insulted him, throat burning with tears each time I slapped his chest. Idiot. You stupid, self-centered fucking id—

He cut me off with a kiss.

#🗝; citizen #🗝; mikey #🗝; chronicles of vee: vol. 1 #yeah if we’re doing cliches we’re doing ALL EM

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richie-rich-tozier · 6 years

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all i got -- richie tozier x oc (pt1)

pairing: richie tozier x oc

warnings: swearing, smoking, domestic abuse, mentions of sexual things??

word count: 2238 (pretty long tbh but that’s just how i write i guess)

summary: CJ and her family moved from Phoenix to Maine, taking their belongings and secrets with them. CJ has little hope for the change until a certain Trashmouth introduces some potential.

a/n: basically, this is my first post-a-ma-jig of, like, actual content. i wrote this before i started this account which is why it’s the protagonist is an OC. if people don’t like that, i can rewrite this to make it an x reader and write x readers in the future.

hope this doesn’t suck! xo

The clouds seemed to get darker and denser as I got closer and closer to what would soon be her new home. Derry, Maine was, from what she researched, a place quite unlike her hometown of Phoenix, Arizona. She was, unwillingly, trading crystal clear blue skies, golden sunshine, and closest friends for grey cloud-ridden skies, cold rain, and a bunch of small-town strangers.

The day she found out she was moving was a day she hated for more reasons than one. The first reason being, of course, that she had received the dreadful news that she was leaving Arizona. The second reason being that she told her boyfriend of a year that she didn’t love him. The third reason being she slept with Josh Herrin.

She also turned seventeen.

As she drove past a sign that announced her family had arrived in Derry, she tried her hardest to push these thoughts from her mind. She turned up the volume on her Walkman, she took in the town of Derry and what little it had to offer; not much. Pulling up at the traffic lights by a large statue of Paul Bunyan, she felt a light touch on her knee and looked from her window to see her mother with a small smile on her face.

“So, this is our new home, well, the surrounding area,” she grinned hopefully once I had removed my headphones. “What do you think?” I watched as her eyes flitted in the direction of my father and back again rapidly.

I chose my words carefully. “It’s nice,” I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

“Good, good...” my mother mumbled as she turned to sit properly in her seat once again. My father placed a hand on my mother’s thigh and she flinched. He didn’t stir, and she rested a feeble shaky hand on top of his. I resisted the urge to audibly wince.

The drive continued in silence as I decided to turn off my Walkman. We soon pulled up to a pale coloured home that looked too perfect to live in. It was eerily perfect against the dreary backdrop. As soon as my father stopped the car, my mother jumped out of the car and rushed to the door to unlock it, then hurried back to the trunk of the car before hastily grabbing a few bags and hustling it inside. I sighed before making my way outside of the vehicle.

“Hurry up, slow poke,” my father growled low as he walked past me. Shivers rolled my spine and I did as instructed, copying my mother.

I was sent upstairs after retrieving all the boxes from the trailer we had rented. I was instructed to unpack my room and the bathroom. I was relieved at the chance to escape my father’s eyes and rushed upstairs. I hadn’t taken much with me; partly because I wasn’t brought up to be the sentimental type and partly because I wasn’t allowed to. If I could’ve, I would’ve brought the Arizonan horizon with me. Instead, I brought a few photographs, a bed set, most of my clothes, my Walkman, my tapes and records, a record player, a boombox, and my makeup. I unpacked all of this fairly quickly, only taking two hours, and then set to work on the bathroom.

I had left the door open as I did so and could hear some commotion from downstairs as I unpacked the toiletries. It began with the shattering of a dish.

I heard my mother let out a shriek followed by the thundering of footsteps across the ground floor, a banging of cupboard doors, another shriek from mother and the sound of skin aggressively hitting skin.

“Now why would you do that?” I could hear my father spit. I snuck to the stairs and peered into the kitchen where I could see my mother cowered on the floor whilst my father hovered above her, a hand in her dark brown hair. She didn’t respond, she just whimpered and shook. “I said why!” he yelled.

My mother shakily sobbed. My father violently threw her head away from him, hitting her skull against the cabinet. He stomped towards the front door and I scurried up the stairs as he put on his boots and jacket.

“When I come back, this place better be unpacked and a cold beer waiting for me!” he announced before heading out the front door. I heard my mother’s sobs get louder as they escaped her fragile body. I was selfish and decided to save my self instead of helping her, fearful that my father may see me. I returned to unpacking the bathroom.

Once I had finished that, I returned to my room and sat down on my bed, staring out of the window. I could see the setting Derry sun and realised that it would be a long while until my father returned home. Mother’s crying had either stopped or quietened to a volume that CJ couldn’t hear. She proceeded to pull on her Chucks, throw her fake ID in her pocket with a handful of cash before going to find her mother downstairs. Tiffany Elizabeth Burlow was sitting at the dining room table, a glass of cloudy water in her pale hands, her posture impeccable and her expression unreadable. All CJ could read into her mother’s expression was that she would be passing out soon.

“Can I go to the pharmacy? I forgot to bring a toothbrush with me and I don’t want bad breath,” I nervously laughed.

My mother slowly moved her hazel eyes to my person, her expression dead and her dark circles aching. “Of course, sweetie, be safe,” she hummed, her lips twitching to a smile like a tick before returning to nothingness, her eyes settling on her drink.

I grabbed the keys to my mother’s car that had been waiting here for our arrival. Hopping into it, I took a deep breath before turning the keys in the admission and heading in the general direction of town, to where I recalled seeing the pharmacy earlier. It was a quiet drive with no traffic and little to see. Most residents seemed to be hidden away in their homes or elsewhere whilst a few kids and teenagers strolled between the diner and the movie theatre. I pulled up outside the pharmacy and headed inside to find it completely empty other than the cashier and myself.

I stood in the entrance for a moment meeting eyes with the boy behind the counter, clearing my throat before searching for a toothbrush, not that I had actually forgotten mine, but I needed the evidence that I had left the house to retrieve one. I also grabbed a packet of smokes when I was at the counter. The boy looked between me and the packet of Marlboro with and unconvinced expression. He priced up the toothbrush and then stopped.

“ID?” he asked, a small and outstretched towards me. The boy was just shorter than me with dark hair and a polo shirt. He didn’t seem very intimidating and so I felt confident. I pulled out my fake ID, batting my eyelashes at the boy who blushed lightly at the slight contact of my fingertips and his. He scanned the plastic, looking back up at me every now and then. “I’m sorry but—”

The boy was cut off as the doors of the pharmacy opened and another guy came strolling in, dark curly hair a mess around his pale and freckled face. I instantly spotted a purple mark on his neck and that he looked very dishevelled. “Eds!” the boy greeted loudly as he walked in, slightly out of breath.

“I told you not to call me that,” the boy at the counter sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Look, I’m not here to chit-chat, Eddie,” he said dismissively to the boy I now knew as Eddie. “I’m here on a mission.”

“A mission?” Eddie repeated.

“Condoms,” Richie stated. “Eds, I need condoms.”

Eddie sighed again. “Aisle 2,” was all he said before pricing up my cigarettes and handing them back to me. I shot him a small smile before reaching in my pocket for the cash.

The other customer, supposedly Eddie’s friend, approached the counter then, throwing a box of twelve condoms down with some money on top.

“No need to worry, doll. I got it,” he grinned as he leant against the counter beside me. He was rather close, too close.

I placed a finger on his chest and pushed him away lightly, taking my things and walking towards the doors. “Gee, thanks,” I mumbled sarcastically, loud enough for the tow boys to hear. Eddie sniggered, and the guy hit him on the chest.

I pulled a cigarette from the packet as soon as I exited the pharmacy, placing the butt between my lips and sparking it up. The smoke filled my lungs before I forced it out again. I leant against a brick wall just outside as I enjoyed my smoke. Soon enough, my time was disturbed.

“Forget something, Amanda Gould?” a voice asked from my right. I turned in the direction of the sound to see the tall and curly haired boy from before reading my fake ID as he approached me. He looked up when I didn’t reply and focused his chocolate brown eyes on my own. I noticed that he was very attractive, but he didn’t seem trustworthy.

“My name isn’t Amanda,” I replied once he was close enough for me to snatch the plastic away from him. I placed it in my pocket before taking another pull of my cigarette.

“I think Hot Stuff suits you better, anyways,” he joked, standing further away than he had inside the pharmacy. I didn’t react to his comment and looked away from him, disinterested. “This is the part where you laugh and tell me your actual name, sweetheart.”

“Oh really?” I said in a bored tone.

“I mean that’s usually how it goes.” Again, he was met with silence. “Well, if that’s how you’re gonna be, I’ve got better things to be doing.” The boy headed past me and slid into the driver’s seat of a car, a girl in the passenger seat giggling like a bimbo as the tow sped off. I scoffed, stomped out my cigarette, and headed towards my mother’s car.

Once I arrived home, I wasn’t surprised that my father’s car still hadn’t returned. What did surprise me was the car parked on the other side of the street. It was the car that belonged to the curl haired boy who needed condoms. I rolled my eyes at the sight, noticing that it was the only car at the residence and that the only light that was on was one on the second floor.

Inside my new home was quiet when I entered. I walked slowly around the downstairs to find it empty and walked upstairs to find my mother passed out on her bed. I sighed a quiet sigh before heading in to my room, getting washed and changed, and then crawling into bed having nothing else to do.

I was awoken by the slamming of the front door.

“Tiffany!” father bellowed, speech slurred. I soon heard my mother running from her bedroom down the stairs, then I heard some crashing. “You stupid bitch! You fell down the stairs!”

“I’ll get you a beer,” I heard her say, tears in her throat.

“You should’ve been waiting with one.”

I kept my eyes clenched tight together as I tried desperately to fall back to sleep.

“Here you go, John,” mother mumbled.

A moment of silence passed. “This is warm.” More silence, the sound of heavy footsteps moving slowly and clumsily against hardwood floors. “Was it not in the refrigerator?”

“I-I-I—” was all I heard my mother stutter before I heard my fathers hand connect to my mother skin.

“Stupid fucking bitch!” he yelled. I heard tin rattle against the floor. “CJ!”

My heart dropped and my pulse raced as I shot out of bed and sprinted to my father wordlessly. I stood on front of him with my head low. It seemed that he had thrown the can at my mother who was cowering against the wall, covered in beer with a handprint on her cheek and a bruise developing on her forehead.

I made the mistake of glancing up at my father. He snarled before pushing me hard against the front door, my face forced against the wood, Tears were flowing freely from my eyes as I supressed the sobs threatening to erupt from my throat.

“God forbid you turn out anything like your mother,” he spat lowly in my face. I could make out my mother quietly muttering to herself in the corner as she traced droplets of alcohol that ran down the wall, her fingers trembling, her body raked with tremors.

My father grabbed my cheeks in he meaty hand and turned my face towards him. Using his free hand, he brushed a dark strand of hair from my face and let the back of his fingers brush against my neck. I shivered against his touch and he smiled a small and terrifying smile before throwing me to the floor, my head smacking the floor causing me to pass out on the floor of the entryway to our brand-new home sweet home.

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hsj-scenarios · 6 years

Text

Voicemail | Unprompted | Song inspo: Videotape- Radiohead (I realized later on I linked the wrong song so it was worse jfc 🙂)

Warning: May be triggering since it’s death related. You can depict this story as you’d like ^^ (Read at your own discretion if sad content isn’t your style)

Note: I wrote this as ‘They/Them’. Sorry for not using reader, I’m getting back up please bare with this random shot 😅

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you .. it’s been awhile since I’ve heard your voice. It’s Christmas and it’s the first family gathering since we broke up. I .. I wanted to call but my niece drove me to lock myself in my parents room, she uh .. she was asking about you. You know how she loves you ..”

Weakly Ryosuke chuckled against the phone. A quivering smile began to curve the corners of his lips as he aimlessly looked down his hands, it was then that he realized he was on the verge of crying. But as stubborn as he was, he didn’t care, he was alone after all. There was no reason for him to continue bottling up his emotions, there was no reason for him to act tough .. there were no reasons left for him to keep on lying.

It hurt then and it still hurts now ..

A year had passed and it was evident on his youthful features how said time had taken a toll on Ryosuke. His skin was dull and visible dark circles were underneath his once warm and tender brown eyes, it was almost as if life had been sucked right out his body.

“I wished you could see her, she’s so big and pretty; looks a lot like Chihiro .. I wished she’d stopped asking about you though,” Ryosuke paused. A shaky breath left his lips and his eyes wandered to the ceiling, perhaps doing that would stop the tears from trailing down his cheeks.

“It’s funny, actually. This is one of those good days, I’m with my family, some friends, it’s Christmas .. I have it all, but .. it’s not enough. I miss you, I really do ..”, he struggled with the words, a pained smile tugged his lips as he shut his eyes closed trying to regain some sort of composure, before he looses it that is ..

“I .. I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore; not sure why I’m leaving you this voicemail for all I know you probably won’t hear it. Still, I just .. I wanted to let you know I miss you and this has been hell for me,” again another pause. Ryosuke knew his time was short and he needed to get the voicemail over with, at any given moment it would stop recording.

“I feel .. like the devil is out to get me; he’s trying to reach me and ever since you left this is how I’ve been feeling, I’ve been lost and running away. You were my center and I just want you to come home .. please, just come home.”, the voicemail stopped.

Ryosuke’s fingers for short seconds went numb making the phone fall on his lap, he felt drained; defeated almost. Ryosuke allowed himself to cry for the first time in a few months, he poured himself out into a voicemail in which he knew no reply would come, countless times he tried and each time it was the same .. no response.

Ryosuke knew very well that his niece wasn’t the cause of his heartache, she wasn’t at fault here. He was well aware that this was bound to happen at any given moment. A child simply and harmlessly, pushed the last button.

“Yama-chan! Are you alright in there? Chihiro and Mana are leaving; come say goodbye!”, Misaki, his youngest sibling was at the door after a soft knock. Ryosuke could sense the slight hint of worry within her voice and decided to collect himself up.

“I’m coming! Just give me a moment—”, but right within his right hand his cellphone began vibrating, instantly his body froze and his attention was set on the small device, a look of pure bewilderment clinging to his gaze as he saw the name ID.

But it took less that 2 seconds for him to pick up that phone call, after all, Ryosuke swore he would never hear their voice again ..

“H-Hello?”, he stuttered and his tongue nearly turned into a knot similar to the one in his throat. Ryosuke’s limbs quivered with uncontrollable nerves, his knees felt weak and he could barely catch a good amount of air for his lungs. He was a trembling mess.

“Ryosuke, where are you?”, their voice echoed with playfulness on the other side of the line, cheerful curiosity.

The response should’ve been easy, or even short. But Ryosuke choked, air was short and his mind was in a frenzy, but he needed to answer.

“I’m here .. where are you?”, Ryosuke’s voice became croaky as he inquired, and within minutes his eyes began to sting, he felt the burning tears and the puffiness, yet somehow he couldn’t bring himself to blink.

Is this a dream?

“I’m home, silly! I’ve been waiting for you ..”, Ryosuke could practically hear the beaming smile on their face, he could perfectly visualize them cuddle up on the sofa waiting for him to come home.

“But ..”, seconds went by and Ryosuke could feel the change in his voice, he couldn’t speak—he didn’t want to say it.

“You never came home ..”, as the words came out he felt himself breaking inside, his limbs were as wobbly as his voice and his composure was long gone; he broke down.

“A year ago you never came home; it was on the news. You never came back that morning, you’re not home.”, in a breath full of sorrowful despair he tried explaining. Hot burning tears continue falling and air seemed impossible to catch as the call went on, there was a short silence after.

There’s no one home ..

“Ryosuke ..”, they call out his name softer than ever, in such a tender way it would’ve been enough to ease his pain. A smile was on the other line, he knew so.

“Do you remember that home video I made when you were on tour? The one where I tried making you a cake, remember?”, instantly a genuine chuckle managed to escape Ryosuke’s lips, a wide smile lingered behind as well as he indeed recalled the video.

“I do. You were wearing an apron with strawberries printed all over and the kitchen was a mess in the background ..”

“Yes, that one, babe. Come home and watch it till’ the end ..”, their voice was quiet and pleasant. A soft plea.

“I can’t .. I can’t go home, you’re not there.”, again talking became difficult. Reality was setting in hard and in a very torturous and bizarre way.

“Ryosuke, this is my way of saying goodbye ..”

This was coming and he knew it, he shouldn’t be afraid but he was, in all the ways possible. He knew a goodbye had to be made, but truth be told, Ryosuke wasn’t good with goodbyes if they meant forever.

“Why did you have to go to your office that day? Why did you have to go 15 minutes earlier? Why .. why are you gone?”, the ongoing questions strangled him, his chest was tight and the memories flooded his mind consuming him entirely too much of raw emotions.

“This is my way of saying goodbye because I can’t do it face to face. No matter what happens you shouldn’t be afraid, Ryosuke. I’m happy, I’m talking to you right now and that’s all I wanted. Today has been perfect because I’m home and you’re with me. Please, let me say goodbye ..”

Ryosuke didn’t need to ponder much on the request, but that didn’t mean it would be easy hanging up the phone. It was a simple task turned troublesome, but he did it anyways. Without an accurate explanation to his family and friends, Ryosuke left the building in a rush and with quick apologies to whoever asked.

He didn’t know what to expect back home, he didn’t know what the videotape had left to watch. As far as Ryosuke knows he has watched every little bit of home videos he owns since the incident last year .. but in the end, being home with home videos sounded far better than pretending to be alright in a family gathering, he was exhausted.

•••

[ Well .. at least I tried making you a stupid cake! Why do you like strawberry cakes so much anyways? So much sugar in these, ugh ]

Ryosuke sat on his living room sofa, lights off and a foolish teary smile tugging the corners of his lips.

[ I don’t even get why you like me so much! I can’t even bake you a cake, is this who you want to marry, Yamada Ryosuke? ]

He laughed wholeheartedly at the question. The television showed his kitchen being all around messy with flour and fruits as opposed to how truly spotless he kept it. Their hair had spots of white powder and so did their hands and face, quite the laughable sight for his previous heartache.

[ Oh well! I’ll just call your sisters and they’ll help me, though I’ll probably lie and tell you I made it myself ]

They smile with mischief while turning to the camera and giggled. Right then Ryosuke felt soothed and finally at ease, he understood why he needed to be home, it all felt right.

[ So, before I shut this down and clean this awful mess I made in your kitchen—that would surely get me killed, I just want to say I love you, Ryosuke. I miss you, please come home already .. ]

The puzzle was being cleared through the video, although this last goodbye felt excruciatingly painful, it was in a way, some closure. The type of closure Ryosuke needed from them, he couldn’t keep on lamenting what happened, he couldn’t take it back .. they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he couldn’t take it back.

[ I can’t wait to see you, please work hard but take care of your health—don’t try and do any stunts either! I’m very proud of you and I love you .. I guess this is goodbye for now, see you in a few weeks. I love you ]

That was their final goodbye, a goodbye that managed to ease the pain just a little, their smile and voice through the television made Ryosuke less miserable, he didn’t feel tormented anymore.

They finally said their goodbyes ..

For Ryosuke it would surely take a bit more than a few videotapes for him to forgive fate, or even his own self. He still had plenty of questions regarding their death, he didn’t understand why things happened the way they did, he couldn’t fathom why his lover had to be a victim but he needed some peace ..

And today, he finally found it within a videotape.

#THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A POST BREAKUP THING NOT THIS HEARBREAKING DEMON OF A SCENARIO 😭😭😭😭#ok im sorry this is kinda crappy and totally random but this just came up and took a whole other turn and this is the result SORRY 😭#Yamada Ryosuke #Ryosuke Yamada #山田涼介 #asianpopwritersnet #unprompted #Mod M #Drabble #Hey! Say! Jump

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showingthroughtome · 7 years

Text

out of our hands

“a five part study on the effects of eye contact on perceived closeness”

Or the one where Harry is a psychology grad student who is running a study, and Adalyn is the girl who signs up for it.

a one shot i wrote for ash last summer that i didnt post on tumblr for some odd reason

read below

Harry had been in school for a long time. A very long time. Years and years and years, is what he'd say if anyone asked.

He did thirteen years of school before he started college and then six since - four years of undergraduate where he got his bachelor's degree in psychology, and for the last two years he'd been working on his master's degree.

He was supposed to be almost done. He was supposed to have seven more weeks until he was out of the collegiate atmosphere. But the forces of nature, or magnetic energies, or maybe even God himself wasn't ready for that. Because somehow, his final research article had been skewed. So much so, that if he couldn't fix it, have it sent for review, and approved before the deadline, he'd have to stay around another semester and conduct his research study all over again.

One of his peer reviewers, this asshole Brennan, noted on his article that his findings could have been altered due to "unaccounted for manipulation". When the board saw that and questioned Harry, he knew right away Brennan was correct. His results wouldn't be significant enough to grant him a well-written article, and Harry wouldn't get his master’s degree.

Thankfully, he had enough time to conduct his study one last time, on one completely new participant. All he had to do was find someone he had never once met before, someone he had no chance of knowing. He went to a friend and asked them to spread the word. After only three days, he heard back, hearing about some other psych major who was always participating in studies - it was her thing, her love.

So here he was, with six weeks to do an entire study, get together a write up, and send it off. And all he had was a name.

Adalyn.

session one

Adalyn was ecstatic about life as of late. She was halfway through her sixth semester of college - only having seven weeks before summer break and having just turned 21 right before spring break. That meant she didn't have to sneak in bars with a fake ID anymore, or pretend to be sneaking when in reality the people just let her stay because her hair was pink and her eyelashes fluttered. She didn't mind having guys look at her in awe, but it did make her feel dirty, slightly sleazy, for using her looks to get her what she wanted.

Other than legal alcohol consumption, age came with a sense of assuredness for Adalyn. She was finally feeling confident in declaring her major, thinking psychology was the right path for her, especially after volunteering for all those research studies over the last two years - any that she qualified for, she would readily go to. It was probably because her freshman year Research Methods class taught her the value of a good sample size and how helpful it is to the experimenter when people actually participate in their study instead of ignoring it completely. (Life tip #1: always fill out a survey honestly and carefully. People work hard at developing those, and sometimes base their whole career on responses.)

Not only did she find the studies to be fun, but they also looked good for grad school applications. Her grades were looking excellent so far, not getting anything but A's since she took English 300 her sophomore year. (Life tip #2: don't take a 300-level class until junior year - not that it's actually that much harder, but they normally suck horribly, so just save yourself the heartache for one more year.)

That's why when her best friend heard from her friend that his friend was conducting a study that called for a new participant as soon as possible, she jumped on the opportunity, figuring it could only do everyone some good.

She had to be in the research building by 10am, not too early and not too late, but still, she found herself rushing there. Her first class of the day got out at 9:30, and the buildings weren't far from each other, but of course she spilt the last little bit of her coffee on her chest when she went to put her notebook in her backpack. She had to run back to her dorm and change into something else.

Originally she was dressed nice, wearing light-wash jeans, a polka dotted blouse, and her favorite pair of oxfords - classy chic was her goal. With the quick change though, she didn't have enough time to find a non-wrinkly shirt so she picked the first folded t-shirt she had in her dresser - a grungy old Nirvana one her older brother let her have (or she stole, who knows, really?).

To say the least, she was out of breath swinging the door open to room 3068 on the third floor of the psychology department's low-tech research wing. She was shocked to find no one in, first assuming she was early. Looking at her phone, it read 10:04, so nope, it wasn't a miracle, she wasn't early. It just happened the experimenter also had bad time management skills.

All that the room held was a table and two chairs placed on either side of it - reminiscent of interrogation rooms. Adalyn could've sworn she saw an exact replica of the room on one of those A&E shows where they recount the violent crimes of various criminals.

Staring at the empty room, she didn't know what to do with herself. Like any sane person would, she plopped her butt down on one of the cold metal chairs and waited. But not for too long, because after just a few scrolls through Instagram, the door was once again swung open and a man walked through - or more so rushed in.

Adalyn first noticed his height, his tall, lanky legs and arms. Then she noticed his age. He was younger than she expected - most people who ran studies were nearly greying or at least old enough to be rocking a wedding band on their finger. This guy, though, looked to be just a few years older than Adalyn.

“Hi!” She popped out of the chair, going in for a professional, strong handshake. The man reacted accordingly, shaking hers for just a second before going about the room, dropping his books off and picking up a clipboard.

��Running a bit late.” Were the first words he breathed. Turning back to Adalyn, he held out the clipboard to her. “These are the consent forms, pretty standard stuff. Just take a look through and sign please.”

“Of course!” Adalyn responded cheerily, not letting one ounce of her day’s misfortune carry into her interaction with this man. Still, he raked his hand through his hair and turned to gather materials.

She sat down and read over the paper. She could've just skimmed and signed it, but what can she say? She's a nerd for this kind of thing. She thought maybe research procedures and release forms could totally be her future. Or maybe after she spent a decade testing the effects of ambiguity on helping behaviors.

The paper had all kinds of fun information though. Not just procedures but researcher information - hypothesis, thesis, compensation. From it, Ashlyn learned the name of the man in front of her, the one who had taken a seat on the opposite side of the table and began fiddling with a timer: Harry Styles, a graduate student looking to explore eye contact in association with perceived closeness.

She signed the form and slid it to the side, waiting further instruction, but without looking up, Harry reached for another form and slid it across the table.

“This is just a self-report survey about any feelings you may have. Please answer as truthfully as possible. My colleagues will be gathering the data so I won't know who said what.” He still didn't look up, just spoke like a machine.

Adalyn nodded, not that it mattered or anything. It was just – well, she just hadn't felt that unnoticed in a long time. Harry didn't have to bask in all her beauty or anything, but maybe a little bit of acknowledgment would've been nice.

She went along with it anyway, because the guy clearly needed it and she was already this far into it. All of the 10 questions on the survey pertained to either how she felt at the moment or how she felt in accordance to the experimenter. It was on a 5 point Likert Scale. 1 being negatively, 3 being no feelings at all, 5 being positively.

Half were 5’s. Half were 2’s.

By the time she completed the survey, Harry was finally done setting up whatever he was doing.

“Alright, thanks.” He said, adding her survey to the pile of papers. “You're Adalyn, correct?”

She nodded. “Harry?”

“Yes. Nice to meet you.” He gave his first half-assed, tight-lipped smile.

It was better than nothing.

“Okay, well in this study,” Harry began reading from a sheet of paper. It was standard protocol for a research study. The conductor of the experiment would read from a sheet of paper detailing what the participant would be doing in the study. It was a way to account for variables across participants, making sure that outside factors, such as experimenter delivery, didn't have an effect on the outcome. “You, the participant, will hold eye contact to the best of your ability with the experimenter for five minutes over five sessions. After each session, you will fill out a survey containing the same questions as the one you did previously. Changes in answers will show an effect of eye contact, the dependent variable, on perceived closeness, the independent variable.”

Adalyn listened closely to the formality of it all. The obsessive compulsion of studies always delighted her in some strange way.

“You may blink, and if you need to stop at any time, feel free to tell the experimenter. Your participation is greatly appreciated.” Harry finished up the short paragraph, lifting his eyes. “Any questions?”

“Nope. Five minutes of eye contact. Got it.” Adalyn ran through.

“Okay, then we will begin when I start the clock.” Harry grabbed the small stopwatch, set it for five minutes. “Now.” He said, initiating eye contact and laying the small device on the table.

There was no way around it, it was fucking weird. Eye contact for a long period of time was just unnatural, anyone would agree. But she couldn’t really do anything about it, except for stare into the eyes of this man who would barely look at her a few moments before – not even other parts of his face, just his green eyes.

It felt like forever, like time was standing still and all she'd ever be able to see when she looked away was that shade of emerald. Or maybe they were more forest-y? Perhaps jade? Adalyn wasn't sure, though she was sure it had to have been five minutes already. The timer must not have gone off.

Right as she was about to drop her eyes, unable to do it any longer, it kind of got nice. Tension felt to have faded, and the awkwardness that is one human being staring into the eyes of a complete stranger fizzled. But before she could be sure that actually happened and she wasn't just imagining it, the timer did go off and Harry sunk back in his chair.

Quick enough, he handed her the second survey, and with just a short goodbye she was out of the door, blinking repeatedly to try to erase the one color was stuck in her mind.

---

Harry sat back in his chair for a long while after Adalyn had left the room. It was weird doing that again, after so many months of not. But even still, it never quite felt as intense with the past participants. Something about Adalyn, with the pink hair and icy blue eyes, had him shaken. Right from the start, he noted how beautiful she was, how happy she seemed, and the eye contact only added to it.

As he tried to gather himself, he couldn't help think of how Brennan would be kicking his own ass for the conclusive findings Harry was sure to get with this rarity of a girl.

That is, as long as he didn’t let the data skew.

session two

Adalyn saw Harry again after that, in between session one and two, when she was in the cafeteria with a group of her loud, obnoxious, lovable, freaky friends. They were quite an eclectic group, varying in race and status and major. They were breaking the rules of homogony on every front which is probably what thrilled them the most - knowing that just by being friends, they were defying societal pressures.

She was eating with them, or rather stealing celery and apple slices off of her best friend’s plate, and looked around to catch the set of eyes that shouldn’t have been as familiar as they were. She shouldn't have been able to look at a guy she spent maybe ten minutes with in total and know every variation of green his irises shifted from. But she did, so she waved, just like any normal person would, any self-respecting friendly human being would.

Harry seemed to snap out of a trance when Adalyn raised her hand, turning away without an ounce of acknowledgement, nodding to whatever his small group of friends were saying. They all kind of looked alike, but just a tiny bit. All but one had tattoos littering their arms. They all wore skinny jeans and easy smiles and joked with each other. Harry looked the most serious.

It was the cold vegetable hitting Adalyn lightly on the face that snapped her out of her examining of the table across the room. She turned towards the one person she knew as the vegetable thrower, her best friend, and gave her best death stare. As it turned out, Adalyn wasn't good at evil so her friend just ended up laughing.

She sat there for the rest of the meal wondering why the fuck she was so obviously ignored.

That was almost a week ago, and even remembering that couldn't throw her off her mood, because she had just gotten an A on a paper from one of the hardest classes she was taking that semester: Abnormal Psychology in Children. It had her bouncing with every step and cheeks aching from an unrelenting grin when she walked in room 3068.

Harry was already there this time, doing something on his phone, possibly texting those friends of his about how to properly blow off someone.

He didn't look up when Adalyn stepped in the room and the door closed behind her.

A, she thought, I got an A.

“Hello!” She chirped as she pulled her chair out. Even if he completely ignored her again, she wouldn't care, she wouldn't let it bother her. I got an A.

“Hello, are you ready to start?” Harry was nothing but business, hitting the lock button on his phone and throwing it into his open bag he had on the floor.

The thing was, he didn't look like a dick who ignored pretty girls or who never wanted to say hello. His face could be soft, in the second before he put a stern look on. The moment she saw him staring, before he realized it, he looked incredibly soft, like if she were to touch him it would be a euphoric experience. Then the fucker would open his mouth and was robotic.

“Yup!” She smiled. I got an A.

Harry nodded once, maybe let half his lips turn upward just a smidge, and then they were off. Adalyn did her survey – marking nearly all fives on this day – and then Harry got out his stopwatch.

This eye contact was like it was before, kind of awkward, mostly uncomfortable, but then about two minutes in (or what Adalyn guessed was two minutes because again, time was weird when you had no way of marking it) she remembered she was supposed to be in a good mood. She kept her eyes locked with this grumpy man and thought of how she could call her parents later and brag about how well she did, about how grad schools would want her, and those student loans would one day be paid off.

Without even realizing it, she felt her lips turning into a grin, how could they not with such positive vibes running rampant inside. It was awkward to sit in silence, stare at a guy, and smile for no apparent reason. She really tried to contain it, to tuck her lips together and keep them solid like Harry's.

It was an ongoing effort that she was certain would last the whole five minutes when suddenly, out of nowhere, it was like she stepped into an alternate universe where Harry could show emotion. Just barely, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and the green of his irises may have lightened just a little. If she were allowed to look away, Adalyn would’ve checked to see if he were actually smiling and that she wasn't just making assumptions due to her learnings in Social Psych about facial expressions.

It was pretty clear that they both were smiling though, so she didn't try to conceal hers anymore and sat – surely looking ridiculous – until the timer went off. And as soon as it did, Harry slid the second survey in her direction.

She filled it out without a problem. She had to remain objective, had to remember the survey was how she felt about the experimenter and not about life in general. Even then, for every question, the score increased by one point.

Finishing the survey, Adalyn thought what the hell and decided she might as well at least see why Harry totally ignored her the other day.

“So I saw you the other day?” It came out like a question when she could've sworn it was a statement.

Harry didn't show any indication that he actually heard her, not moving his focus from some stack of papers. What did he even have to read right in that moment that couldn't wait?

“Yeah,” she continued. “You completely ignored me even though I know you saw me so I didn't figure you'd say anything today.”

A lot can be said about Adalyn, probably just as much good as bad. But no one could never say that she didn't speak her mind. Adalyn would let people decide if that fell under the good or bad category themselves.

In that moment, it got Harry to look up even if his face was back to its cold, distant normality. She didn't falter under the heavy gaze of someone clearly unamused by her, instead sat like she had the entire time, trying her best at unamused as well.

“Listen, Adalyn,” Harry started, then shook his head back and forth, something about it made her feel like he would rather be a million places other than sitting across from her. And that's fair enough, but she wouldn't just let him make her feel invisible without an explanation. “It's best that we don't talk to each other except for the study.”

“Oh yeah?” She challenged, breathing in.

“Yes. It's best not to skew data. This is a study on human interaction at its very core. If we start chatting it up in the cafeteria, then who's to say why you fill out the surveys the way you do. I need to know it's because of the eye contact.”

“You know that's being fucked right now?”

“Then all I can do is ask you to forget about this and leave. If I see you on campus and don't go out of my way to be friendly, or if I seem cold any other time, please forget about it when you're filling out that survey.” He pointed to the paper Adalyn hadn't yet handed back.

Adalyn got the importance of validity to a research study, she took a whole damn class on the subject, so she couldn't really argue, nor did she want to. Not when Harry seemed like a good guy just trying to publish his findings.

Adalyn nodded her head, grabbed her book bag from the ground and swung it over her shoulder, leaving the survey on the table as she exited the barren study lab.

---

Harry didn't mean to be a dick, not really, not ever. Not to a nice girl he hardly knew.

He just couldn't have the study under question again. If he had to find someone else to fill in for Adalyn, then that was even more time and resources down the drain. All he really wanted was to finish his study, and the many many years he's spent learning the ins and outs of human behavior – at least from the psychological standpoint.

Though, something about Adalyn already had him questioning what was supposed to be - what he had learned years ago in Psych 330: Human and Animal Behavior. People weren't supposed to call you on your shit like she did, so upfront and uncaring. People normally don't go straight for the kill, without even properly knowing each other.

That's why, when Adalyn left session two, he went to his old Social Psychology professor and had a nonspecific talk about confrontation theories. And when his professor laughed at him due to his “clear girl trouble”, Harry snorted and cracked a joke instead.

session three

Harry was different at their third session – less grumpy, more easy going. And it wasn't even like he was smiling or making jokes, it just felt like he was less angry when Adalyn met him in that same room. Which was pretty fucking weird, if she did say so. Out of nowhere, he wasn't ignoring her when she showed up, or when she tripped just a tiny bit while sliding into the metal chair. He even smirked at her clumsiness, raised an eyebrow in question of how she could possibly do what she just had. Adalyn was in such shock at his acknowledgement that she couldn't make a sound.

She filled out the survey and all the while felt his eyes on her. It was beginning to make her feel like she had something on her face, or maybe she had forgotten a few buttons on her blouse, showing off her lace bralette that left little to the imagination. After subtlety feeling around her face and looking down at her own chest, she knew neither of those were the reason why.

“Okay, you ready?” Harry accepted the survey she passed to him, almost sounding happy and excited to be doing this.

The shock wasn't wearing off so a confused Adalyn nodded and pulled her seat closer to the table, getting ready.

She couldn't stop herself from watching every movement Harry made, trying to find the exact difference in him, as if it could be seen on his flesh why he was acting decent. It couldn't really, not by the way he reached over for his stopwatch then ran his hand through his long brown locks, tossing it so it fell just in place. That just seemed kind of… Well… Hot.

It was most likely due to his acknowledgement in addition to his obvious attractiveness that had Adalyn noticing how Harry did everything just slow enough to make it seem like a tease, like he was doing it so people would watch him, wait for him, to keep their attention to see what the end result would be.

“Alright.” He broke her out of her head with the word, bringing her to the task at hand. He moved his head in such a way that she knew he was going to start the timer.

Staring in the eyes of someone who could barely say hi to you was a lot different than someone who might possibly think you're alright, Adalyn learned. Because that time, it didn't take the constant reminder of a good grade, or a stroke of magic to make the situation less awkward. It just was.

The tension was still palpable, the air still thick, but it wasn't the same as before. It was easier. She just sat and stared at that same pair of green eyes - even though they might've seemed more vibrant.

Whatever was different about Harry, whatever was making him laugh at her tripping and smirking a hello, also had him bringing so much intensity into the room. Yeah, it was easy to stare at him when he was that way, and yeah, she liked it better, but also, it made her body feel stiff. Like she had to move just to shake off his gaze or else he'd figure out everything about her – every mannerism and quirk, every secret she had kept and lies she had told.

It was both a good and a bad feeling.

Her body was almost aching to move, when for the third time, she was saved by the bell in the form of four little beeps from a stopwatch.

At the sound, both fell back into their chairs, almost in complete sync with one another. A moment went by when the room stood still, and Adalyn felt like what they had just experienced was a moment, a spark in some weird way.

The sliding of a survey in her direction had her forgetting those thoughts. It was the experiment. Not a moment. Not a spark. Harry wasn't light or happy, he was angry. He was just having an off day. Maybe he had gotten a good grade back too, skewing his usual demeanor.

Adalyn stuck to answering the questions as truthfully as possible, getting out of her head about what it felt like to be looked at by Harry and instead only thinking of how she felt towards the experimenter - the random guy who held eye contact with her.

Each question raised one point.

---

Whatever was up with Adalyn that day wouldn't bother Harry, he wouldn't let it. She barely said anything, just nodded the whole time, and still, he wasn't going to let himself think about it as he put SPSS data into the program. He'd run his t-tests, check the p-value, and decide if the results were significant.

After he found out that he got that job at his Social Psychology professors research lab, the stress slid right off his shoulders, just like the bad mood he had been carrying around for weeks. And he wouldn't let some random participant in his study mess that up. No matter how much he enjoyed her hair that matched the color of her lips, or her eyes that could wear down anyone's resolve. She wouldn't ruin his good day. Not one bit.

session four

The weather outside was hot, people were sweaty, hair was frizzing. In psychology, you learn that crime rates go up during the summer for various reasons, one major reason being the fact that heat makes people angry. Adalyn wasn't one of those people, and apparently neither was Harry.

When Adalyn found him in the lab, he was relaxing in his chair, nearly giggling as he typed out some kind of message on his phone. The sight alone had Adalyn checking the sign outside of the door so she was sure she hadn't walked into the wrong room and found Harry's happy twin brother.

3068 the door read. She was in the right place.

Cautiously, and mainly uncertain, she stepped through the doorway, pulling Harry out of his own little world. Almost immediately she felt under pressure. Not only was it so hot outside that she had to wear a tank top and her favorite pair of jean shorts, but now Harry was gazing off at her like he liked what he saw. She could feel the sweat gather at her hairline.

Harry wasn't dressed that much different than normal – black jeans and a button up shirt. Except this time, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing a scattering of tattoos, and the first few buttons were undone, showing a bit of his collarbone and possibly more ink.

“Hi.” Adalyn greeted, because she wasn't sure what else to do, what else would get Harry to move and hand her the survey.

“Hi.” He snapped back, but not like he was angry like before, but more so like he was caught doing something and needed to distract from it.

Adalyn, of course, didn't miss his eyes move away from her body slowly, almost hesitantly.

She took a seat in the chair – her chair – and for once, she thanked God for the seats being metal due to them cooling her exponentially. She let every part of her body slouch into the cool metal, feeling no shame when Harry eyed her like she was insane.

Adalyn just wanted this to go as quick as possible so she could get back to her Arctic room and ice cream she had waiting for her. Without much thought at all, she filled out the survey as honestly as possible.

She handed it back to Harry with him asking if she were ready. Like always, she was and he set the timer.

Adalyn pretty much knew what was going to happen by the fourth time she locked eyes with the ex-grumpy man who sat across from her for five minutes. It would be slightly awkward, but with Harry's new found cheer and can do attitude, it wouldn't be so bad.

She tried not to overthink why, out of nowhere, he didn't scowl when she entered the room or why he started greeting her with a smile on his face. She didn't need to know really. It was just a better scenery she'd gladly accept.

They were halfway through the process and the chair Adalyn was sitting in wasn't so cool anymore, it wasn't hot exactly, but all that relief she got from it had worn away. Now she was getting hot again. The room was feeling stuffy, and she felt like she just had to move. So, she did. She inched forward in the chair, leaning her elbows on the table and shaking her hair off of her shoulder, being sure to keep eye contact at all times.

Even that didn't do much to make the heat feel less, causing her to question if maybe the room wasn't actually as warm as she thought it was. Maybe it was just the intent Harry had in his eyes that had her skin feeling on fire and shining from the tiniest bit of sweat.

Adalyn kind of liked that idea.

The idea of Harry looking into her eyes so hungrily that her body had a physical reaction. It had her tingling in that good way she never got enough of, so much so that she'd often egg it on.

So basically, she couldn't help that she leaned forward that little bit more, enough to make her small tank top cover even less skin.

It was like she could feel it in his green eyes – how irritating she was being to his study. Nothing else about Harry gave her any indication that he was enjoying her little show, but all it took was the eyes.

And if he let his slip down her neck for just a split second before they met hers once again, she pretended not to notice.

She pretended not to notice while she was filling out the survey, while she was grabbing her things and smiling a good bye to him.

She walked out proud of herself, thinking that the next session would be fun – the last session.

session five

They were staring into each other's eyes for the last time. And it finally felt completely normal, not even awkward at all. Just like two friends. Which Adalyn knew they weren't, she had no delusion of that. But now she thought maybe the next time she waved at him,he'd return a small one at the very least.

Or possibly a big one.

Because Harry was staring at her again, like he wouldn't be able to look away even if this wasn't all for a study, and Adalyn couldn't help but tease him. She couldn't help but slide off the light cardigan she wore in and move her hair to one shoulder - the weather had dropped again, just like usual for this part of the US. Now Harry had a perfect view of an expansive amount of skin, from the V-neck of her t-shirt all the way up her neck.

He was good though, not playing into her efforts, locking even more ferociously with her eyes. That was enough to get Adalyn to lose some of the upper hand, because one can't just stare at someone like that – so kind and wanting – without having the recipient feel something.

This time, Adalyn needed to shift, not because she was feeling stiff or pressure, but because she just had to. Warmth was wrapping around her again but this time it had to be because of Harry and Harry alone. It was on her neck and up her legs and she just had to.

Once she did, momentarily she was feeling a lot better, like she could contain herself and keep her eyes looking into those green fiery ones.

Harry, though, then moved himself, scooting to the edge of his chair and extending his legs under the table enough to bump into Adalyn's. She moved hers out of the way just barely, not so much that they weren’t still nearly touching.

And then the beeps went off, just four small ones. They should've been louder for the moment that it was – the end of the study. But they weren't, they were the same as all the other times.

Adalyn and Harry didn't react much to the noise, fixed on each other. Until Adalyn was moving, surging forward across the table to connect her mouth with Harry's. Harry had no problems responding to that, standing up so the effort wasn't solely left on her, and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Whoa.” Harry backed up, breaking the kiss and all body contact they had with each other. “Fuck!” He exclaimed, wiping all the evidence of the kiss from his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?” Adalyn wasn't sure what was so wrong with what she had just done. It was clear that Harry wanted her, he kissed her back so fully that there was no mistaking it. And she waited until the end of the sessions instead of doing it sooner even though she knew she could've. His reaction seemed a bit too much to her.

Instead of replying right away, Harry began pacing the small room, going back and forth in a single line.

“What did I do wrong?” Adalyn repeated. If she were someone different, this would've done a lot to hurt her ego – to see someone react so horribly to a kiss – and even though her ego wasn't hurt, her voice was.

Harry stopped his pacing at once, rushing to the stack of papers on the table. And that's when it hit her. She forgot the last survey – the last survey that could pretty much define his entire research study.

“Fuck!” She stomped her foot, mad at herself for letting desire do something so idiotic.

“Just fill it out truthfully and it'll be okay.” Harry spoke like he was convincing himself, like he needed to hear it so he didn't have to worry.

“Of course I will.” She grabbed the paper from his hands.

Obviously she would fill it out with as much honesty as all the others, because in all honesty, it was a no brainier. Clearly the eye contact had worked. Clearly her perceived closeness was at a five in every way – especially in the way where Harry's mouth tasted like the sweetest honey against hers and his big hand warmed her body.

It took her maybe seconds to fill out the form before handing it back to him. And somehow, in the time she looked away, Harry had appeared on her side of the table. They were closer than they had ever been before, Adalyn noted to herself.

“Good.” Harry looked at her answers for the first time, not putting them straight into an envelope like he normally did. “Where were we?” He asked in one breathe as he slammed the sheet down on the table and brought Adalyn back to his mouth, those hands back on her like they hadn't left. It was all enough to have her giggling while simultaneously trying to keep the room full of that lust.

Before she could even stop herself, she had her hands running down the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one. As more skin was revealed, so was more ink, and the need for her to run her tongue along every line. And she would've, too, if Harry hadn’t reconnected their lips as soon as she had disconnected them.

He was acting like he couldn't get enough of the taste of her, which she really didn't mind, not when he swung her around and had her sitting on the table that had kept them separated for the last five weeks.

It was then, with the cold against her legs, that she realized just what was going on and muttered the words, “This is so fucked.”

“What is?” Harry pulled back to look into her eyes. The two sets of eyes knew each other pretty well by then so if anything were wrong, he'd have known just by that.

Adalyn shook her head and laughed. “Your study.”

“Don't say that, it'll kill the mood.” He went back to kissing along the line of her neck.

“No seriously. I mean, you really proved something here.”

“What's that?”

“Stare at someone long enough and they'll want to have sex with you.”

“I've done this with a few other people, and Adalyn, you're the only person who I've ended the study with this way.”

“Damn, Harry. You have such a way with words.”

“Don't I?” Harry was playful it turned out, smiling against her neck. She had no way of knowing that before, but here he stood, slightly undressed and cracking a few jokes.

And his smirk? Well that was enough to drive anyone crazy, and have Adalyn undoing his belt buckle without a second thought – just knowing she wanted him so viscerally right then was enough for her.

Harry had her shirt off nearly as quick. Then, without warning, he slowed down, taking his time to touch every part of her skin, to kiss where he felt like she deserved and to slip her bottoms off gently.

Adalyn would've done well with a quick fuck, a onetime thing from a hot psych student, but she was finding the slowness pretty okay too. Because when he wrapped her legs around his hips, and slid into her like she was something special, her whole world went fuzzy.

She lulled her head back in pure ecstasy as Harry took his time with her, biting marks into her neck that were sure to show sooner rather than later. She felt herself being useless in his arms, and still she couldn't stop being completely wrecked by him – with every forward motion of his hips, pushing her closer to her end.

It was when she finally decided to look up again, to check that Harry was getting as much out of it as she was, that she met his eyes and reached her climax. It came with a mutter of Harry and then a slump of her body even closer to his. Like any respectable man, Harry followed with a little more coaxing of her mouth on his neck – she was determined to leave a few love bites of her own – and a swirl of her hips.

They were both getting dressed again when the first post-sex words were spoken. And from Harry no less.

“That was fun, huh?” He smiled lightly, testing the waters with his offhand question.

Adalyn pulled on her shirt, surveying the room to see no noticeable differences about it.

“Oh, I definitely have no complaints.” She spoke honestly and freely, living high off her orgasm.

That truth seemed to shock Harry. Probably not that she was satisfied but that she wasn't playing games about it.

“None?” He questioned.

“Nah.” She pretended to think on it, then continued. “And I'm not one for lying.”

“Good to know.”

“Yeah. I figure it might be nice for you to know something about me.” Adalyn stepped closer to Harry, who was fully dressed and grinning contentedly at her from the edge of the table he perched himself on.

“I think so too.” He nodded in agreement, checking his watch. “And so in that case, would you want to have lunch with me?”

#1dff #oooh #dusting off an oldie #im sure people who would read this already have but i wanted it here anyway lol #im posting lm tomorrow!

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writingknb · 7 years

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Takao, Kasamatsu, Sakurai, Himuro, and Nijimura find their crushes' notebook... and discover a well drawn sketch of them, surrounded by little hearts. What do they do next?

Omg! I love this, since I rarely get request from these characters! Wahh, I enjoyed writing this! 🌸

This is pretty long, too!

Thank you for requesting! 💋

♥︎ TAKAO:

“You’re actually that serious on becoming a composer?” Takao asked as she carefully flipped the pages of her notebook. She nodded, then glanced at the street basketball game across from them.

“Of course I am.” she replied, still not meeting his eyes. She hated it when they locked eyes anyway. Her calm composure would drop, and she would start stuttering on her words and other embarrassing things like that.

A basketball jumped over the fence and landed in front of them. One of their classmates, Ayato, shouted from behind the fence: “Hey, (Name)-chan, mind if you throw the ball over?”

Takao scoffed. “Hey look, it’s that guy you’ve been crushing on.” he said dully, grabbing the ball from the ground and giving it to (Name).

Another thing she hated, faking a crush on another person so she could distract her feelings. Yeah, it sounded immature, but it wasn’t her fault she fell for her bestfriend.

(Name) cleared her throat, before walking over to the fence and throwing it over. Ayato smiled once he caught it. “Nice throw, (Name)-chan!” he winked, before walking back to his friends.

“Sheesh, you should really confess, (Name)-chan.” Takao said, playing with her hair. She blushed deeply, shaking her head, partly so that Takao could stop what he was doing, and so that her hair could cover her blush.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked. “You seem.. odd.”

She shook her head again. “Nothing. Kazu, I have to go. I have something else to do. See you tomorrow.” she smiled half-heartedly, before shouldering her bag and sprinted off.

Takao was a bit offended. Your best friend ditching your time alone for some other thing, but it was probably important, right? For the past few weeks, (Name)’s been asking so nervous. Takao suspected the obvious, but he didn’t want to assume it to early. After all, she liked someone else.

Takao turned to the side and grew interested when he saw her notebook on the bench beside him, where she sat not too long ago.

She forgot it, obviously. Takao would give it to her tomorrow, but it was so tempting to open.

In the end, he got it and opened it anyways. He was just no fighter for temptations. He smiled at the lyrics she wrote, how much meaning they had, you could feel the emotion she wore when she wrote them.

It’s the same for the first few pages, until he reached by the middle of the notebook. He squinted his eyes to see if it were really him.

The sketch looked so accurate, it was creepy. But other than that, it was drawn well. Takao didn’t know she could draw, much less skilfully.

The drawing didn’t look like Ayato at all. And that was weird, since she had a crush on the guy, and the drawing had little hearts scribbled next to it.

His eyes dropped to some writings below the feet.

‘You’re annoying, Kazu’ it wrote. That was enough for him to realise what the hell was going on, he couldn’t help but smirk.

No wonder she acted so odd. And the drawing wasn’t drawn too long ago, either, considering she put a date in the lower right corner. He closed it and smiled to himself.

“Neh, (Name)-chan, I’m so going to get you tomorrow.” he smirked.

♥︎ KASAMATSU:

“Kasamatsu-senpai!” the annoying blonde squealed from afar, pointing at a certain bleacher as he ran to his captain. Kasamatsu blushed, but acted like it was normal, because it was.

“Look! (Name)-senpai is over there with her friends, they’re going to watch practice to write an article! This is your chance!” he said excitedly. Kasamatsu didn’t listen. He was too busy staring at her, awkwardly laughing as her friends pulled her to a bleacher closer to them.

“Oh my, this is my chance for the girls to notice me.” Moriyama purred, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oi, everyone hurry up and practice, we don’t want to get couch to scold us again.” Kasamatsu announced, and everyone followed his orders.

For the first quarter, he was so distracted. She was just too pretty to not look at. When he dribbled and went to their court, the other players would bump into him and snatch the ball.

“Neh, Kasamatsu-senpai, don’t get too distracted now.” Kise teased. Before he even got to scold his teammate, KIse snatched a ball and went for a dunk. Girls cheered from all around.

The alarm blared, signalling the end of the first quarter. This was only a practice match, but it felt so real. Especially since they actually had an audience. There were only about 5 people, but hey, better than nothing.

Everyone made their way to the benches, sitting down to rest and others drinking their water. Kasamatsu slightly tiled his head, only to see her staring at him.

Her eyes widened when they locked eyes. She gulped and put a strand of hair behind her ear, looking away and started talking to her friend. Then proceeded to scribble something in her notebook.

Kasamatsu blushed. God, even from afar, they managed to look at each other? And they weren’t even together. He shook his head, trying to get his mind off of her in the time being.

“You should really ask her out.” Kobori said, stretching on the floor. “Or else Moriyama’s going to beat you to it.”

“Yeah.” Kise agreed.

“She doesn’t like me, bakas.” Kasamatsu growled. “And what if she says no? I’m going to look like an idiot, and-”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.” Moriyama winked. “And besides, she doesn’t look like she’ll reject you, doesn’t she?” he pointed to the bleachers, where she stared at Kasamatsu.

But this time, he was the one that broke eye contact, blushing madly. Damn, being caught staring at each other for two times a row, that’s a new record.

But Kasamatsu made up his mind. He had his doubts, but other than that, he was really going to try. Once the match was done, he made his way to the bleachers, but there was no sight of them.

Expect maybe… her notebook!

Thinking that it was full of reports, he grabbed it from the seat and started to flip through the pages, he almost passed out on doing so.

On one of the pages was him doing his signature drive, and wow, was it drawn really well. And it was just drawn on the previous game. He blushed madly and immediately closed her notebook.

His heart started pounding when he heart footsteps from behind, and there she was, panting and standing behind him.

“E-Excuse me?” she stuttered, her hand motioning over to her notebook. From the corner of his eye, Kasamatsu saw his team staring at them like they were their OTP. “I forgot my notebook.”

Kasamatsu glanced at the notebook in his hands, before handing it to her, gulping. “Excuse me..” he trailed off.

She looked up at him, clutching her notebook her to her chest. “W-Would.. you.. would you mind if I walk you home?”

She looked a bit taken back at first, but smiled warmly afterwards, shaking her head. “No, not at all.”

“Then.. please wait there. I’ll just go and get my things.”

“Wooh! That’s the spirit, Kasamatsu-senpai!” Kise cheered from below, earning a glare from Kasamatsu and a giggle from (Name).

♥︎ NIJIMURA:

Nijimura exhaustingly ran his fingers through his hair as he made his way over to his locker.

It was the end of a match from another school, and though they won, it was one of their most exhausting matches. Right now, all he wanted was to plop down on his bed and go to sleep. He was lucky it was friday.

But he had to get an article (Name) had written for their basketball team, and he had to review it and tell her if there was anything written in there he didn’t like and vice versa.

He raised the key hanging on his ID and unlocked his padlock. He grabbed the notebook resting inside, and sat on one of the benches, then started reading it.

Usually, he would’ve dozed off to read an article, but seeing what was written and or drawn inside her notebook, it kept him awake. It fascinated him more and more whenever he turned the page to see another drawing of him.

There were some drawings of him playing basketball, him doing one of his drives, and there were some obviously drawn in the middle of class. He appreciated them all, and he couldn’t help but blush.

He heard footsteps to his right, and turned his head, to see the person he wanted to see the most as of now. She panted, her hands resting on her knees, before standing up straight.

“Ah, Shuzo.” she gulped, putting one of her hands behind her back and motioning to her notebook. “Have you read the notebook? If so..” she pulled out from her bag another notebook. “I unnoticeably gave you.. a different one.”

Nijimura stood up from the bench and walked over to her. “Uh, yeah. I guess I opened the notebook..”

“Oh..” she trailed off, grabbing her notebook from him and handing him the other one. “I have to go.” she excused, bowing her head and proceeding to walk away but stopped when Nijimura grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to him.

“No.” he said, his voice low. As of now, he didn’t care that they were inside campus. No one but them were probably still there, the sun was setting, the soft breeze blew on their faces, sakura blossoms being blown by the wind.

Nijimura had one of his hands on her wrist, the other on the back of her head.

“If you like me, you should’ve said sooner.” he whispered. “We’ve been best friends for years, (Name).”

She didn’t answer.

“Go out with me.” he said, pulling away, both of his hands enveloping hers.

“Ah, you got me.” she smiled, moving closer to him and looping her fingers through his. “It’s a yes.”

♥︎ SAKURAI:

“Oi, Sakurai.” Aomine yawned from behind him. “I attended class for today. Can you be a saint and substitute yourself to clean the classrooms? I’m tired.”

As always, Sakurai obeyed his orders and lowered his hea lower than he should’ve. He sighed and looked out of the window, as most of his classmates scurried of outside to go home.

He grabbed a broom from the closet and started sweeping. He singed some tunes for a while until his eyes dropped on a notebook. It was placed on his crushes’ desk, and being his curious self, he opened it.

There were multiple drawings of him on some of the pages. Some were him bowing to someone, saying sorry over and over again. Some was him doing a 3-pointer, and some were him smiling genuinely.

It took him a while to realise this was the notebook of (Name), the girl he had a HUGE crush on. He hoped he didn’t look like an idiot next to her, but he doubted it.

Once he realised he was snooping in others’ privacy, he immediately closed it and started apologising to no one.

He decided he’ll ask her out tomorrow, but he didn’t even know how. Draw a picture of her, too? Just ask her out like that?

Nah, maybe he’ll cook something for her. And then he’ll ask her out. Maybe even get some help from Momoi and his teammates, specifically Aomine, whom he did a favour for..

Oh, he has it all planned already.

♥︎ HIMURO:

“That was great.” she smiled, as Himuro successfully did another mirage shot of his. Himuro smiled and sat next to her, wiping away the sweat on his forehead with a towel.

“I know.” Himuro said confidently, but laughed afterwards. Then he realised she was writing something on her notebook. Or drawing.. “What’s that?”

She looked around, then at her notebook. She laughed awkwardly, before hiding it from behind her back, hoping Himuro would lose interest, but she doubted it.

“Hey, when did you start hiding secrets?” Himuro frowned, but smirked afterwards as he tried to reach for her notebook. “We’re best of friends!”

“Oh please.” she rolled her eyes. “Just mind your own business, Tatsu. And I won’t get mad at you.”

“Really now?” Himuro cocked an eyebrow, then stood up from the bench. (Name) laughed, then started to run as Himuro chased after her. Obviously, in the end Himuro caught up with her when she grew tired.

“Why do you have to be so curious?” she narrowed her eyes. “God, I hate you sometimes. I’m leaving.” she said, blushing madly and handing Himuro her notebook, shouldering her bag and started to go.

But one Himuro saw what was inside her notebook, he grabbed her wrist. “What now?” she said, hoping she sounded stern.

“I didn’t know you were so good at drawing.” he said, pointing at a drawing of him juggling, and other things like that. Like cooking, shooting, laughing..

“Yeah, yeah..” she trailed off, yanking her hand away.

“Really?” he sighed, closing her notebook. “God, you’re way more denser than me. I like you too, (Name). I’ve liked you for so long.” he said, inching closer to her.

Her eyes widened when their foreheads touched. Himuro ran his fingers through her loose hair. “I’ll make it up to you, for forcing you so much.” he said, and before she even got to process everything, he pecked her lips.

“H-hey!” she stuttered, her finger touching on where he just kissed her.

“Well you better get used to that by now.” he smiled, grabbing the basketball from the floor and started practicing again.

#Takao Kazunari #Kasamatsu Yukio #Nijimura Shuzo #Sakurai Ryo #Himuro Tatsuya #KNB #Kuroko no Basket #Kuroko no Basuke

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