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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Curiosity Killed the Exorcist

“And then, see here? You have to be on the lookout for subtle signs like these. This indicates that he’s…” Marinette nodded as Tim continued explaining, pointing out various body language and other clues out on the Batcomputer. It had only been about six months since the Batfam collectively adopted the little ladybug into their menagerie of heroes, and started teaching her deductive habits and skills. She would not allow them anywhere near Paris on pain of death (some of them had already tried, and Bruce was still recovering from the bruise to his ego. The bruise on his ass from being teleported out of the city and onto the stone of the Batcave was gone, though) but she welcomed any help they could give from within Gotham’s city limits.

Usually, at least in the beginning, they did their mentorship at a distance over video call. But then Tim found out her identity, and Marinette made the excuse of wanting to meet with them in person to gauge their trustworthiness for herself and erase their memories of her identity if they failed her test— and, well, it all snowballed from there until she was teleporting to the Batcave every few days for detective lessons. She was practically a Bat herself, if not for her out of theme codename. And she found herself surprisingly comfortable with the thought of them being a… very eccentric extended family.

Tim was flipping to another saved video in the Batcomputer archives to show another example of his current lesson, when Tikki flew up to Marinette in a hurry. She was holding Kaalki’s glasses. The little kwami whispered something in Marinette’s ear, instantly making the teen blanch and force on the glasses.

“Sorry Timmy, gotta cut this short! I’ll come back tomorrow to make up for it! Okay? Okay! Awesome, you’re the best, bye!” She ignored all of Tim’s protests and rapid fire questions, instead opening up a portal and jumping through it as fast as humanly possible. The portal has barely disappeared before an all-too-familiar voice rose up from behind Tim.

“Maybe I’m still drunk, ‘cause I could’a sworn I just saw a portal closing in the damned Batcave, of all places,” the British-accented drawl was accompanied by the flick of a lighter and accompanying fizzle of a flame. Tim groaned, mentally making a note to ask how in the world Marinette had known that John “Annoying asshole” Constantine was showing up soon, and if he could be in on the warning next time. Bruce, cowl still off, walked over from where he had been sparring with Damian and crossed his arms. He had also heard Marinette’s hasty exit, and made a few mental notes of his own before focusing on the exorcist in front of him.

“What do you want, Constantine?” he grumbled. Any time the blond brit showed up, things only got far more complicated than he ever enjoyed. And he always gave Bruce a migraine, to boot.

“Two things actually, Batsy,” John held up to fingers as his free hand tucked his lighter away in his pocket. His unlit cigarette stayed in his mouth though, probably just for the familiar feel of it. “One; I’m gonna need you to tell me why there was a portal closing when I walked in, because I’ll be honest. The implications there are way more interesting than what I came here for in the first place.”

“None of your business. What’s the second thing?” Bruce immediately shot him down, but John was not one to be deterred. He never fucking was.

“But you hate magic! You make sure I know that all too bloody well every time I pay you a visit, so why the sudden change in heart? Huh?”

“Drop it, Constantine. What. Do you. Want?”

“Fine, fine. I need your help with…”

— * — * — * — * — *

A week later, Marinette was sitting with Jason and Damian in one of the manor’s sitting rooms, the three of them just minding their own business and silently enjoying one another’s presence. Even if two of them would never admit it. Jason was reading Jane Eyre for the millionth time, Damian was leaning against Titus on the ground as he sketched, and Marinette was embroidering a sunhat. Unfortunately for her, Alfred the Cat was currently asleep on her lap and thus holding her hostage.

Even as Tikki flew up to her ear in a panic and whispered, making Marinette prick herself with her needle. She hissed for a second but shrugged off the familiar pain, much more concerned with whatever news Tikki had given her. Damian and Jason were already on high alert from the second that a whispered curse had left her lips, and were staring straight at her and her kwami and Marinette frantically tried to find a way to get up without awakening the cat sleeping on her.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Jason asked, feeling thoroughly confused and left out. On one hand, he knew that if they were in physical danger she would have moved Alfred the Cat without hesitation. On the other, he did not like the sheer amount of anxiety he could see her experiencing. Marinette’s frantic eyes shot over to him, pupils mere pinpricks and hands mouth agape as she tried to form some sort of plan.

“Uh— “

“Ah! You must be the fair maiden that the Bats are comfortable with using magic around them,” John goddamned Constantine threw the door to the sitting room open wide, making it bounce off of the wall and lightly smack back against his shoulder. He ignored it as he grinned at the three younger people in the room, waltzing in casual as anything. He wagged a finger at her playfully. “I’ve been awfully curious about you, ya know? Brucie boy knows a shit ton of magic users, but he never likes seein’ any of us do our thing. And to not only allow you to teleport without any apparent discomfort but to actively protect your identity from me? Now that’s a damn accomplishment and I really gotta applaud you for it,” he mockingly clapped his hands a few times. “So what’s your secret, huh? I won’t tattle.”

“No thanks. Kaalki, a little help?” Marinette carefully pushed Alfred the Cat off of her lap before diving into the portal that Kaalki whipped up for her, the entire process happening so fast that Constantine couldn’t even get out a proper “hey!” before she was gone and the portal closed. He just nodded, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.

“Ya know what? Fair. That’s fair.”

“Goddamn it, Constantine!” Jason threw up his hands in frustration. “Why the fuck do you have to scare away one of the only sane people in this family?”

“Part of my charm, little red riding hood.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“You know, I’ve been pretty damn nice not teleporting right over to you whenever you disappear. So why don’t you just tell me why you’re avoiding me now that we happen to be in the same room by complete accident, huh?” John asked from where he sat in one of Bruce’s lounge chairs sipping on a beer. Marinette mimed choking him, clearly fed up. He had been trying to have a conversation with her for the past three months, ever since that one time he caught the tail end of her portal closing in the Batcave. Three. Long. Months. And he hadn’t given up, because something about this little Parisian teenager intrigued him. She was sixteen, that much he had gathered from the Bats. But to be sixteen and not only in possession of the Horse miraculous but also clearly the Ladybugs, since he had seen Tikki more than once as well, now that was interesting.

Anybody being in the possession of more than one Miraculous was already cause enough to be keeping an eye on them, which was why he had been keeping an eye on the Paris situation and had pieced together on his own that the presence of Tikki meant that this little parisian teenager was none other than Ladybug herself. Now, that? That was a whole new level of concerning, especially since he knew firsthand that the old Grand Guardian was gone and passed his title down to— yeah, Ladybug.

After that deduction, his interest in Marinette had swiftly switched from curiosity to fuck-I-need-to-know-what’s-going-on-here. Because no kid should have to deal with that kind of weight, and Constantine always looked out for kids when he could.

But right then, Marinette was glaring at him. She had been just coming over for a normal “family” dinner with the Waynes, which she attended from time to time. And apparently they had decided to have Constantine already over so that they could chaperone a meeting between them that would hopefully appease the stupid british magic user enough that he left them all alone again until the next time he needed help.

“Believe me when I say, you’d rather not know,” she replied sharply, glaring Dick. He was the one who had convinced her to come despite her recent close calls with Constantine in the past few days. He studiously avoided her gaze. “I just would rather not cross your path, and there’s no reason for us to interact. Why do you care, anyway?”

“You see, now that is an excellent question!” he chugged the last of his beer and gestured to her with the empty bottle. “Normally, I wouldn’t give a flying rat’s ass. But I’ve put two and two together, since I know who Tikki is,” he nodded to the red and black Kwami. “And maybe I just wanna keep an eye on the new Grand Guardian to make sure she’s doin’ alright. That’s an awful lot of magic and responsibility that you don’t deserve, but I’m not about to try to take it away. Keepin’ an eye on you is the next best thing.”

“Try again,” Marinette shot back, crossing her arms. “You were interested in me before you learned about me being Ladybug.”

“I’m nosy, what do you want me to say? I saw a portal in Batman’s man-cave, I get curious. Sue me.”

“Well. I have Bruce and everyone else already watching out for me, so you can leave me alone now. If I need your help, I’ll make sure to ask every other magic user first before contacting you.”

“Woah, now what’s all this venom for?”

“Uh, maybe we should go and actually eat dinner?” Dick tried to step in, hands up. Constantine had stood up from the chair he was in, which was usually a cue to change the subject as fast as possible. “Before Alfred has to come get us?”

“Maybe I’ll be less venomous if you let the subject drop and leave me alone!”

“Context would be nice, though.”

“Seriously guys, let’s go! Food!” Dick was once again ignored.

“Context is the last thing you need in this situation,” Marinette’s voice was suddenly soft, her arms dropping to her sides. “We’ve had this conversation so many times in so many now-deleted timelines. Just drop it this time.”

“If those timelines are now-deleted, then I obviously don’t remember what’s so bad about telling me why you’re acting like I’m some hated family member you’re avoiding!”

Silence.

Pure. Fucking. Silence. As they all watch with front row seats as Marinette flinches at the word ‘family’.

Pure silence as Constantine’s shoulders drop at the sight of her flinch, realization slapping itself on his face.

“No.”

“See? I fucking knew you would— that this would happen. This always happens, you always hate finding it out, but you’re so— so stubborn!” Marinette was blinking away tears, digging in her pockets and bringing out Kaalki’s glasses. “You’ll drop it now, at least. You always do.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Constantine rubbed his forehead, still trying to sort through his amalgam of emotions. Marinette just shook her head, turning to Kaalki.

“Do you mind showing Monsieur Constantine the way out, Kaalki? I’ll grab you a load of sugar cubes afterward.”

“No, wait, hang on a second!”

A portal opened up under him, making John “Stubborn Idiot” Constantine drop ten feet down onto the hardwood, polished floor of his house. His bruised tailbone would take a while to heal, but his frazzled mind was by far the more concerning development. He staggered to his feet, reaching for the nearest bottle of tequila.

“Ugh, fuck my damn life.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“Marinette..?” Damian nudged the girl with his shoulder, frowning. It was after dinner that same day, and as much as he hated to admit it he had grown to actually like having her around. She was a good friend to have. And seeing her slumped back on one of their sofas, sketchbook covering her face and not a single rambling conversation to be had or heard? It was very concerning. She just made a groaning sound to answer him, prompting his frown to deepen. “Are you alright?”

“I just can’t believe that such a sweet, adorable thing like you is half made up of Constantine’s genes,” Jason mused bluntly from the opposite couch, where he tossed a rubber ball up and down out of boredom. “But now I see where you get all of your Disaster Bi-ness from.”

“Shut uuuuup,” She groaned, chucking her sketchbook at him. He caught it in midair, replacing his rubber ball with it and tossing it up and down in the air. “I’m just frustrated. This timeline is still perfectly stable, so I can’t erase it. And I can’t exactly ask ‘hey, can someone commit a horrid atrocity that makes this timeline split from the main one so that I can erase it and we can start over from four months ago?’ because that would be horribly irresponsible of me. But seriously, Jason. If you’re gonna ever commit, like, city-wise arson? I’d probably condone it right now if only so I have an excuse to use time travel to get out of this situation.”

“Not committing arson unless you give me a better reason for it, Pigtails.”

“Damn.”

“But are you okay?” Damian asked again, seeing as she had completely ignored him.

“I’m fine, Damian,” she finally sighed. “And I know how this is gonna go. He’s going to totally ignore me now, until we meet during some magical crisis and he only interacts with me when necessary. Then he pretends we never met, we have a private little one-sided whisper-argument about how he will never make a good father figure and I would be better off leaving him alone, blah blah blah. Avoidance is a coping mechanism I guess I inherited from him.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m trying to bite that in the bud then, eh?” Marinette startled out of her sitting position, seeing John stumble into the room…

Drunk off his ass. But apparently still at least mildly coherent.

“I agree with deleted-me’s, I’m not gonna be a dad. Not me,” he tripped, landing on his still-bruised ass and hissing in pain before continuing from the floor; “So if you’re looking for another Daddy dearest, that ain’t me.”

“See, I knew this is how you’d—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted. “I don’t know how long the booze is gonna last and I need it’s courage here. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. Where was I? Right. But I know magic, ya know. The kind that doesn’t rely on little bobblehead gods to do. I got— like, a million books. Shit ton of books. At my place. Ya can read ‘em. My books. At my place. But I ain’t gonna parent, but I can lend ya books. Maybe give magic advice. Teach a little. Little bit. Didn’t think I’d have a child, but apparently I do and she’s the fuckin’ grand guardian and a damn hero, and I don’t know how the fuck I was able to help make someone like that. But whatever, it’s not like the world’s ever fuckin’ been easy on me,” He pulled out a sample-sized bottle of whiskey from one of the pockets on the inside of his trench coat and chugged it. After a brief wince and hiss at the burn, he kept rambling. “My door’s open, is what I’m tryin’ to say. No guarantee I’ll be in any state to talk to when you walk through it, but it’s open.”

Deciding to steadfastly ignore the tears streaming down her face, Marinette just swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I, uh. I think I can work with that.”

John barely made it to the nearby bin in time to vomit into it.

— * — * — * — * — *

I hate my imagination sometimes, guys. I started imagining a convo between Mari and Constantine at like 4am and it wouldn't leave me alone until I got it down. but by the time I wrote it, I kinda forgot like 60% of the original convo and just winged it. And this was born. I 100% blame @multifandomscribette because their Bio!dad John Constantine headcannons are amazing and even though this isn't in that universe, those headcannons are exactly what inspired this. So blame them, lol.

#dc x mlb #ml x dc #mlb x dc #maribat fanfic #maribat #maribat fic #miraculous ladybug x dc #bio!dad John Constantine

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marauderundercover · 3 years

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This Side of Normal Ch. 6

AO3

Jason walks into the hospital room, heart breaking at the sight. Adrien, a huge bandage covering what was left of his arm and part of his shoulder. And next to him… This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be there to make sure the kids didn’t get hurt. Instead, Ladybug- no, Marinette, he reminded himself. She had told him her name through sobs as he held her on the roof after they gave their statements to the police. Marinette blamed herself. He could see it in everything she did, the way she responded to people, her body language around Adrien and Jason. He knew she blamed herself. But she shouldn’t. She wasn’t the one who had been trained to fight villains like that. Villains willing to kill kids to get ahead. But Jason was trained. He was supposed to be prepared and know what to do. But now, Adrien would have to relearn how to do everything with just one arm. Sure, he could get a prosthetic, but that wouldn’t be for several weeks. And even if he chooses to get a prosthetic, he’d have to relearn everything. Again. And it was all because Jason couldn’t save him. He couldn’t save anyone. Jason turns to leave, not ready to talk to the boy who lost an arm because Jason wasn’t fast enough.

“Jay?” A soft voice from the bed calls, making Jason freeze. Whirling around, he rushes over to the bed, immediately looking the boy over to see if he’s okay.

“Hey kiddo, how ya feeling? Are you- I’m so sorry.” Jason rambles, falling onto the spare chair next to Adrien’s bed. A chair that should’ve held a parent. If Gabriel wasn’t a piece of shit supervillain who cut off his own son’s arm and kept his wife’s corpse in a hidden basement. Yeah, that investigation must’ve sucked.

“It’s weird.” He says, and Jason frowns at the tears filling the boy’s eyes. “My arm hurts, Jay. Really bad. But every time I try to hold it, or move it to a position that doesn’t hurt- it’s not there.”

“Oh kid.” Jason clamps his mouth shut, determined to not let the kid hear his voice cracks, determined not to let the kid see him cry. What did he have to cry about? He’s the one that wasn’t good enough to protect these kids. Jason leans forward and gently wraps his arms around Adrien, letting the boy sob into his shoulder. Holding onto a sobbing Adrien, Jason’s able to see Marinette wake up and instantly leap into a fighting position. When she notices him, she relaxes slightly, until she sees the crying boy. Then her face morphs into pain and she backs up away from the bed, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Mari?” Adrien says, pulling away from Jason and sniffling.

“I’m so sorry Adrien. It’s, it’s all my fault.” She says, still keeping her distance. Jason sighs and stands, moving across the room in two large strides and wrapping her into a hug. She stiffens for a moment before basically collapsing in his arms. Jason just holds her and lets her cry, just as he let her on the roof two nights ago. After years of not being able to feel anything other than happy, Jason would support these kids and encourage them to feel. Even if it hurt. They deserved to feel.

---

Sitting and talking to Adrien about anything and everything after school had become a daily occurrence for Marinette. Jason walking her from school to the hospital had also become a daily occurrence. So walking by herself was weird. Doable, because she was Ladybug and could walk across Paris alone, but still weird. Especially since Jason was so insistent on her being more careful now that Hawkmoth- Gabriel- was behind bars. Jay was convinced that that meant that the regular, run of the mill bad guys would come back out of the woodwork now that they didn’t have to deal with possible akumas. Regardless, that hadn’t happened yet and she could easily walk by herself. It was still weird though. Walking into the hospital, Marinette frowns at Jason who was pacing and rapidly arguing with someone on the phone in English. Quickly reminding herself that, no he wouldn’t be akumatized, and yes, he was allowed to have negative feelings, she moves so that she’s in his line of sight. Making eye contact with him, she raises an eyebrow as a silent question. He frowns, but doesn’t do anything else except nod towards Adrien’s room. Rolling her eyes in annoyance at his avoidance, Marinette lets herself into Adrien’s room, smiling softly at her friend. The first two days after the battle, she could barely look at him. She blamed herself completely and didn’t feel like she was worthy of being his friend anymore. Now, almost a week after the battle, she still blamed herself. But it was easier to look at him, easier to talk to him.

“Hey kitty.” She says, walking over and sitting in the chair on the left side of his bed.

“Hey bug. Jay still on the phone?” He asks, and that’s when she notices the tell-tale signs of worry on his face.

“Yeah...how long has he been on the phone?” She asks, frowning at his wince.

“Well, he tried to ignore the person the first three times they called. And then he finally answered, said ‘leave me alone’ and hung up. And then they called again, and that’s when the yelling and arguing started and he left the room. That was…” He trails off, looking towards the clock on the wall. “Almost two hours ago.” “Two hours? On the phone? You don’t think he’s in trouble, do you? I mean, I know he has a life back where he lives, and I’m sure his boss is probably getting frustrated with him. But-” Marinette stops herself, not wanting to say something selfish. She knew that Jason had a life outside of Paris. But he was the only grown up to care that Ladybug and Chat Noir were just kids, that they needed help. He was the one to make sure they weren’t spending too much time being heroes and not enough time sleeping and doing homework. He was their big brother, and she wasn’t ready to say bye yet. Even if they could still call him. It wasn’t the same.

---

Jason Todd was livid, and for the millionth time that week, thankful that Gabriel Agreste was rotting in a prison cell instead of manipulating people who were having a bad day. Cause this was not a good day.

“B, I’m not sure what you want from me.” He finally huffs out, glancing towards Adrien’s shut door.

“I just want to know why you haven’t returned. Dick informed me of the flooding your first day, and how things seemed to magically fix themselves. You told us that everything was taken care of, and then you stopped answering any questions about the situation. Seeing as there is apparently no immediate danger to anyone there, I think it’s time you returned home. You have responsibilities here, Jason. Your family is here.” Bruce says simply, and Jason has to bite his tongue from arguing. How was he supposed to tell Bruce about these kids who needed support that they weren’t getting anywhere else. That there were two young superheroes in Paris who needed someone to understand what they were going through, since they couldn’t (or wouldn’t) tell anyone else? Bruce would have adoption papers written up in minutes, and taking the two from their city didn’t seem right. Plus he would never let Bruce adopt them, the kids had enough emotional baggage to deal with without being a Wayne.

“I just haven’t, Bruce. I’m a grown man. I-” “You have responsibilities, Jason. I let you take this vacation because I could see you needed it. But now we need you. I- your brothers miss you.” Bruce says, and Jason rolls his eyes at the man’s inability to be emotional. He would’ve done great in Hawkmoth’s Paris.

“Okay, I’ll start looking for a ticket. I should be home in two or three weeks-”

“I’ve already ordered a ticket for you. Your flight leaves Paris at noon tomorrow. See you then.” Bruce says, hanging up before Jason has the chance to argue more. Not that he had the energy after going back and forth between arguing with Dick and Bruce for two goddamned hours. Resisting the urge to throw his phone against the wall, Jason takes a couple deep breaths to ground himself. No need to upset Mari and Adrien and if he goes in there pissed off, they’re gonna get upset. Shaking his head to try and clear it, Jason throws open Adrien’s door, grinning at the two, sitting side by side on Adrien’s bed.

“Pixie Pop, you’re gonna piss off the nurse if she sees you up there again.” He says, walking over to his usual chair.

“You’re upset.” She says, instead of arguing and reminding him that she can take anything the nurses can dish out (they’d had the exact conversation yesterday….and the day before.) Jason blinks, acting confused.

“Don’t even try and act like you’re not Jay. Mari’s scary good at reading people.” Adrien says with a frown. Jason huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, okay, I’m pissed.” He admits, slumping back in his chair and crossing his arms. Marinette turns to Adrien and whispers something to him, Adrien nodding before she turns back to look at him.

“You’re gonna need our phone numbers.” She says, and Jason frowns in actual confusion this time.

“Gonna need a little more than that, Pix.” He says.

“Well, we knew that you’re not from here. And that eventually you’d have to go back. I mean, I’m sure your boss wasn’t planning on you taking a vacation quite this long. But-” Marinette pauses and lets out a shaky breath. “But neither of us want to lose you. You care about both sides of us, and you’re the only one. You’re our big brother, Jay, but we both know that you have another life somewhere else. And I’m sure those people miss you too. I mean, you’re kinda cool or whatever.” Marinette teases, but he can tell behind the smirk that she’s close to tears. Jason sighs and stands, bringing both of them into a big hug.

“I don’t wanna leave, ya know.” He mumbles, frowning when he feels his shirt getting wet from tears.

“I know. But you have to. And that’s okay. It’s not goodbye forever.” Marinette says, her voice breaking as she holds onto him tighter.

“Expect a lot of calls and face times. Especially once I get my arm. I have so many jokes to make, you’re gonna be sick of it.” Adrien says, and despite the joke, Jason can tell the boy is crying too. Jason squeezes a little tighter, accepting the fact that he’d be leaving. And that he wasn’t sure when he’d see the two again.

Tag list (open): @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat

#maribat #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #platonic maribat adrienette #maribat platonic adrienette #fanfic #ao3fic #platonic jasonette #This Side of Normal #maribat big brother Jason Todd #maribat bruce wayne #maribat fic

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absolutelyfizzing · 3 years

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potions class confessions (james potter x reader)

description - Reader is a potions natural and she gets paired up with James in class. While trying to make conversation they both let it slip that they might have a crush on each other. oops?

word count - about 1800

warning - Fluff!! avoidance and awkwardness, James being maybe a little shy ooc. Reader is a badass. House not specified but non Gryffindor is implied. Some negative self talk. There is also wolfstar!

MASTERLIST

Potions was by far your favorite class. The professor loved you and you had it with Gryffindor. This meant that you got to see him. James Potter. The golden boy of his year. You knew he was probably out of your league but you were pretty badass as well if you did say so yourself. You had top marks and were the seeker of Y/H. You were also widely liked, even though you weren't as loud or outspoken as the troublesome group of four in Gryffindor house. Your attention was drawn to your professor when he began to call out partners for the next couple weeks of the course. Your heart nearly stopped when he said you would be partners with none other than James Potter. Your heart picked up speed. You had a crush on the boy but you knew he was deeply infatuated with the beautiful Lily Evans of his own house. You knew better than to try to compete.

You looked over to where he sat with his friends and they were all giving him looks and shoving his shoulders. You thought they might be making fun of him for having to be partnered with you. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. He looked over and you made eye contact. Both of you looked away as quickly as possible and your cheeks darkened in color.

By the middle of class you had all migrated into your potion pairs and your assignment was to make a very simple healing potion that you could make in your sleep. It was more for practice than anything else. You hadn't spoken a word to James and he seemed unusually quiet. You had a suspicion that he didn't like you. He got pretty quiet whenever you were around and he sometimes would even leave the room when you entered. You didn't know why he didn't like you but you pressed on. And your crush persisted nonetheless.

"Quit staring at me, you're making me nervous." You mumbled as you began pouring in ingredients but you could feel his gaze on the side of your head.

You didn't look up when you heard him mutter a small, "Sorry." It was a short response and your heart sped up a bit at even the sound of his voice. Oh you were whipped and he wouldn't even talk to you.

"Do you wanna do this next part? You should participate if you want full marks on the assignment but I can keep going if you want me to." You offered, finally looking up at him. He was taller than you but his eyes were piercing. You held the spoon out a bit for him to take if he wanted and he smiled a bit at you before grabbing it. His hand brushing against yours had your heart fluttering and you thought you might just throw up. You both stared at the potion as James began to stir and he counted his rotations. When he got to 20 you threw something else in and he began to stir again, counting to 20 again. It was a bit tedious and ridiculously quiet.

"So, are you looking forward to the match tomorrow?" you tried to find a common discussion topic. He smiled a bit and took the spoon out of the cauldron. You looked to the clock and began the countdown of 5 minutes for the potion to sit before the next step.

"I'm very much looking forward to it. We are for sure gonna beat Y/H" he looked over at you slyly. You gasped dramatically.

"How dare you! I will have you know that I have caught the snitch in every match this year but one and that was because your beater hit me early in the game. I will be beating you tomorrow." You smirked. He looked at you with amusement in his eyes and he giggled a bit. He wasn't nearly as cocky alone as he was in large crowds.

"You're probably right. Our seeker is a bloody dud and it's unfair that we have to deal with him while Y/H has you, you're the best seeker Hogwarts has had in 50 years." He smiled at you, his volume matching yours, louder than your previous murmurs. You blushed under his gaze and under the praise that you hadn't expected. You thought he would tease you back instead of showering you with compliments.

"Flattery wont make me go easier on you, Potter. I'm still going to beat Gryffindor." you smiled., trying to bring the teasing back before the conversation got too serious and you revealed something you weren't supposed to. His eyes sparked at you and he smiled for a second longer before breaking your eye contact and chuckling.

"It was worth a try." He grinned, "You know, Remus was jealous I got to be your potions partner cause you're such a genius in potions and he's got to deal with stumble-y over there. " he nodded over to where you could see Remus trying to corral Sirius away from their cauldron as Sirius was a bit notorious for dropping things that happened to cause explosions. You laughed and blushed at the compliment.

"You do just fine on your own but thank you." You tried to calm your heart rate a bit. "Are they dating?" you questioned genuinely, still gazing at the duo across the room. You had seen them in the halls standing a bit close for friends and you thought you saw them holding hands once. James smiled like he was remembering something fondly and shakes his head.

"Not yet." he said simply. You quirked an eyebrow at him questioningly. "They've both got massive crushes on each other but refuse to see it. They'll figure it out eventually but for now its just endless flirting and it is downright exhausting." He said but all with a smile on his face, never an ounce of annoyance in his voice. "Have you had anyone catch your eye yet? I cant believe you aren't dating anyone." He continued to make conversation.

"I've thought about a few guys but the ones I like aren't the ones that like me." You tried to say lightly, avoiding eye contact with James. "But thats no big deal, I've got bigger things to worry about than who wants to take me to Hogsmeade next weekend or who's going to pick me up on the quidditch pitch when I've won that match tomorrow." You joked but James didn't really laugh.

"I want to." He looked at you before the timer you had set went off. Before you could say anything he started asking questions about what was next and you quickly threw the right ingredient in and stirred it three times. You raised your hand to call the professor over and while you were explaining your work you could feel James fidgeting behind you. The professor told you to sit tight the rest of class as you had finished early and you nodded at him before turning back to James.

"Are you pranking me or something?" You questioned lightly, already slightly upset that he would joke about something that you didn't want to joke about. You saw him look up into your eyes and furrow his eyebrows at you.

"No I'm not pranking you, why would you ask me that?" he asked, concern filled his voice. You looked down again and felt your heart pick up, your eyes stinging.

"Its just that I know that you have a think for Evans and I didn't know if you were kidding a second ago." you relied honestly. You felt a hand on yours before your pinkie was linked with his.

"I'm not pranking you. And I don't actually like Evans. I mean she's one of my best friends but me being in love with her was a rumor Sirius started as revenge for me telling Remus he liked him. I've.." He sighed a bit, "I've had a crush on you for a few years now actually." he looked sad. You moved so you were fully holding his hand and you squeezed.

"Look, if you're serious then I would love to go to Hogsmeade with you, I've liked you for a significant amount of time, I just don't want you to feel like you have to cause you pity me or something." you mumbled the last part. James looked at you inquisitively.

"Why would I pity you? As I've said you're the best seeker I've ever seen at Hogwarts and you can properly kick my ass in any class we happen to be in. And I promise I'm only half trying to get you to go easy on the match tomorrow." you smiled at the end and you chuckled a bit.

"Okay then, will you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?" You questioned, a bit more sure of yourself.

"Of course I will. I was also hoping I could steal a tie or two so I can properly represent when i'm at your matches. When you aren't actively crushing my team, that is." he smiled and your heart soared.

"I guess we will have to make a trade." you smiled and as soon as class let out you walked hand in hand into the corridor.

"Finally! Took you long enough, mate." you heard the voice of the raven haired boy behind you as he stood rather close to his not-yet-boyfriend. He pushed James a bit in the shoulder and held his hand out to Remus. Remus sighed and handed him a galleon.

"You couldn't have waited to make it official until the Hogsmeade trip? You've just cost me a galleon." he teased and you both laughed a bit.

"You should have let me in on the bet before hand and I could have kept it professional for another week." you smiled and James pushed you a bit from the side and you all laughed.

You looked over at him and his smile was so wide it made his eyes nearly close. You took a deep breath as you finished laughing and you started to pull him toward the dining hall where you were planning on getting dinner. His hand left yours and instead snaked up to you head so he could push your hair to press a kiss to the side of your head and you blushed deeply. You couldn’t have cared less when you heard a gagging sound behind you from the best friends of the man you hoped to be with for a longtime.

#james x reader #james potter #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp fluff #fluff #imagine #james imagine #wolfstar #the marauders #marauders x reader #marauders imagine

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

Text

Going Back Home

Summary: Claire never thought she would be back in the town she grew up in. But after her fiancé broke off their engagement, leaving her 5 months pregnant and alone she found herself calling Frankie Morales in the middle of the night, one of her childhood friends who insisted that she booked the next flight out. Trying to fix her life with a little help from her friends she would find out soon that going back would be the best decision she ever made.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Claire Beck

wordcount: 3.1k

Warnings: more or less unplanned pregnancy, break up, mentions of sexual encounters

A/N: I am a weak weak person so here it is, a chaptered fic. I will try to update this weekly, but no promises. Rating will go up later. I'm attempting slow burn. Let's see how slow lol Let me know what you think. Reblogs are, as always, appreciated 💙

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

Even Though most of her happiest memories were connected with this town, the town she spent most of her life in, Claire never thought she actually would be back here. And certainly not pregnant and all by herself.

It wasn’t that she had been unhappy here. Claire just always wanted something… bigger. Something more. Something exciting. After her parents died and most of her friends moved away, there was nothing holding her back. Well, that wasn’t true. Frankie and Santiago were there. But only when they weren’t overseas or god knows where, which left her with her dream of being a journalist in a small town where she had no chance to ever make it.

She still remembered Santi’s face when she announced that it was her turn to leave just before they were about to be gone for months again. She had gotten a job in New York and thought for days about what to do until she took the job. That was eight years ago and they hadn’t seen each other in person since then.

Yet when she called Frankie three days ago in tears, it was like no time had passed. She wanted to call Santiago first, but she knew him. If she had told him what happened to her he would have gotten into his car and gotten to her, no matter if it took 3 straight days. No, she had called Frankie. He had listened to her for hours until he made her promise to book the next flight out.

When the fuck did her life become such a shit show?

Only a week ago, she had the dream job, was engaged and 5 months pregnant.

Claire was happy. Until her fiance came back from a work trip and suddenly announced that he wanted nothing to do with the child and moved out within days, leaving her on her own. Not even his phone number was working and she wasn’t gonna show up at his work. She wasn’t that desperate. She should have seen it coming. John never planned to have kids. But when Clarie found out that she was pregnant he had already asked her to marry him and maybe he was too proud to end the engagement back then. Thinking back maybe this was the reason he stayed. Because a part of him wanted to spend his life with her. They didn’t fight. He just moved out, told her that he would take care financially of her and the child, but that he didn’t want to be a father.

The first days she was just numb. Trying to wrap her mind around the fact that the man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with, left her while she was pregnant with a child they didn’t plan but that she loved without a doubt. That was what kept her going. Her little bean. Claire would do anything to protect her little girl.

The guys to this day called her bean. She found herself thinking more of them since John left. Even without seeing them in the last years, they still stayed in contact. Not a week went by where she didn’t receive a letter. They had a group chat that was only used when they were at home and the bachelor was on. Cause fuck did they all hate that show but they watched it anyways.

Claire was okay with the whole suddenly being on her own thing, until she felt her baby move for the first time and turned in her bed to wake her fiance, finding the side empty and cold. For one tiny moment, she had forgotten that she was alone in a city where she had only a couple of friends who were his friends rather than hers. She had always had a hard time finding friends. That probably wouldn’t change.

Sucking her bottom lip in, she rested one hand on her belly as she waited for her luggage to arrive. She slept almost through the entire flight. Claire had gotten rid of the last eight years of her life in the last 48 hours. She wanted to start fresh. She needed a fresh start. Even if she had no idea how to deal with all of this on her own.

A woman next to her helped her get her suitcases on the cart, noticing that Claire was on her own. Pushing the cart through security she saw Frankie as soon as the door opened and next to him Ben, Will and Santiago who all smiled at her, while she felt the first tears escaping her eyes.

She had met Ben and Will only a couple times, they were living an hour away, but they became part of the group immediately. Once upon a time her childhood best friend, Leah, was in that group too. Claire hadn’t thought of Leah in a long time. She had died in a car accident almost 12 years ago.

Arms pulled her in a warm embrace and even after years of not seeing each other for such a long time, she still noticed Frankie’s scent.

“We got you,” he whispered, kissing her hair. She sobbed once before she was pulled into Santi’s arms.

“Look at you,” he smiled before he looked down at her belly.

“And look at you?” he smiled and leaned down.

“Hello, this is your favorite Uncle speaking,” he winked, bending down to speak directly to her belly, making her chuckle.

“Oh please, we all know I’m gonna be the favorite, hey bean,” Will hugged her.

“Don’t listen to them baby girl, we know they're all gonna spoil you rotten,” she grinned, letting Ben kiss her cheek.

“So you’re staying?” Frankie asked and you nodded.

“I already called some realtors. I wanna get this over as quickly as possible. Already sold everything back in New York,” Claire said, looking at the two men who formed most of her teenage years.

“Okay. Let’s get you out of this airport first. You okay to stay with Frankie? He has the biggest house,” Santiago asked, pushing the cart as you slowly walked towards the exit with Ben’s arm around her shoulder.

“Uh… I don’t wanna impose. I could just take a room…”

“Fuck no. Stay at my place. It’s my Pa’s old ranch. I’m renovating it.”

“What? No way!” she said surprised but Frankie only nodded.

“Yeah after Liz and South America I needed something to keep me busy. Also needed more space for Elena,” he explained. A small smile sneaked to Claire’s face.

“I still can’t believe you’re a dad Frankie.”

“Can’t believe you gonna be a mom. Fuck we’re really adults now, huh?” he winked and Claire sighed.

“Certainly didn’t plan it that way. Or planned it at all,” she said sadly before she shook her head as if to get rid of the sad thoughts clouding her mind.

“I meant it, Claire. We got you. We are bored most times anyways.”

“Hey speak for yourself, Fish. I got a business,” Santi said.

“Yeah. Yeah. Me too. But after work you’re either drunk or after some pussy so?” Ben grinned, making her chuckle.

“So still no ladies in your life, boys?” Claire asked as they reached what definitely was Frankie’s truck. It had his company name on it. “Morales gardening”

“Nope. But now that you’re here we could finally….” Will started only for Claire to look away in disgust, making them all laugh.

“You ready to become a Daddy, Will?” she asked, her hands both on her belly.

“Uhm… of course?” he answered and she chuckled.

“That’s what I thought,” she patted his cheek.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted,” Frankie said and opened the door for her.

“We’ll see you tomorrow for the BBQ,” they all waved. She waved back, letting Frankie help her inside before he closed the door behind her and hopped into the driver’s seat.

“BBQ?” she asked.

“Can’t blame the folks from wanting to welcome you, bean,” he winked.

“What folks?”

“Ya know. Folks. You gonna see,” he looked at Claire. He felt better now that she was here. Frankie had missed her these last years, the couple of calls throughout hadn’t nearly been enough. And when she called two days ago in tears… He would have gotten the chopper and flown over but he couldn’t risk it. He had to be on good behaviour to be able to keep seeing his daughter.

“I missed you, Francisco,” she whispered.

“Missed you too, Bean.”

The sun was already setting when Frankie drove down a familiar path. Claire had spent countless days on this ranch when she was younger.

“How is your Dad doing?” she asked softly and Frankie sighed as he killed the engine in front of the house.

“I fucking hate that I can’t take care of him on my own, but he’s hanging in there.”

“I’d like to visit him if you’re okay with that,” she reached over squeezing his hand and he looked at her with a small smile.

“I bet he would love that.”

“And I’m sure he would have wanted it this way, Francisco. You know your dad. He wouldn’t have wanted you to drop everything for him. Don’t be too hard on yourself,” she said quietly.

“Damn I really missed you Bean,” he shook his head.

“Missed you too,” she let her head fall against his shoulder.

Claire didn’t really have eyes for the house, all she wanted was to go to sleep.

“I finished the guest room this morning for you,” Frankie said, setting one of her suitcases down as he opened the door.

“Please tell me you didn’t work overnight to finish this,” she sighed looking at him. He was rubbing the back of his head, pulling the cap he was always wearing down and avoiding her eyes.

Knowingly she shook her head, but couldn’t help the smile sneaking to her face.

“I won’t say it. But please don’t touch the walls, they might still be wet,” he said and she chuckled.

“Okay. Bathroom is over there. The shower isn’t working yet but you’re welcome to use mine. Will is coming over to take a look and make this one work. Other than that if you need anything just ask. Until you found a place this is your home.”

“You really didn’t have to do this, Frankie,” she said quietly, feeling overwhelmed by all of this. So many things had changed in such a short amount of time for her and she only now seemed to realize that she was indeed about to be a single mom.

“I wanted to. You’re… You don’t deserve to be treated like this. So let us help you, okay?” he said softly and she nodded but avoided his eyes.

“Okay. Go to sleep. My room is down the hallway if you need anything,” he stepped closer, kissing her forehead and for one tiny moment, she felt like the 15 year old teenager again who was crushing on Frankie Morales.

“Good night, Francisco,” she smiled.

“Good night, bean,” he whispered before he turned around and closed the door behind him.

Claire looked around, in awe of the room, the bed looking so inviting to her. Sighing she walked over to the window, knowing she would be able to see the whole property during the day. Crossing her arms in front of her she closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of nature that she had no idea she had missed living in the city for all these years. She felt a fluttering in her belly, her hand wandering down to feel a kick.

“We’ll be happy here, I promise,” she vowed, rubbing over her belly.

She didn’t want to disturb Frankie, even though she could hear the TV running so she just washed herself at the sink before she put her Pajamas on and sat down on the bed. She would unpack tomorrow. For now she had to sleep.

The sun wasn’t even up when Claire woke up. She turned in bed, propping herself up so she could look out the window and watch the sunrise. She had to make a plan. A plan that included finding a house, a doctor and help. Though help would be her smallest problem. She already looked at houses in the area and it didn’t look good. If she had more time she would buy the house just down this road, but there was no way the house would be ready before her due date. She would ask Santi for help. He had a lot of connections through his business. Though Frankie too. Claire knew that he had a little gardening company since he lost his pilot’s license. He never really talked about it, but then again, they didn’t talk that much. She knew that he had some problems with drugs in the past, but that he has been clean for almost two years and was doing better. She also knew that there was a lot more to this story then he had told her. Maybe they would have time to talk. To really talk. Groaning to herself, her quiet and peaceful morning was interrupted by her bladder. Time to start the day.

For a minute she wondered if she could risk sneaking into Frankie’s room to take a shower when she heard music playing. Grabbing her bathrobe and toiletries she opened the door and walked down. Now being really awake she had time to take in the house. It seemed like there still was a lot to do. The walls were still unpainted, the floors still old, though she could see he already started with the floor the closer she got to the kitchen.

Frankie was sitting at the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in front of him as the radio quietly played in the background. He had a serious case of bed hair and she smiled to herself. He hadn’t noticed her yet and she found herself thinking back to all the times she had thought that maybe there was something more in between them than friendship. And maybe there was at one point a long time ago. But that was before he joined the military. She might be selfish for it, but she couldn’t be in a relationship where her partner was gone all the time. She needed someone to be there. Even Though there had been times in the past she had found herself asking if maybe she should have risked it.

Instead she had slept with Santiago.

Yeah, that was a big fuck up. Well it was also a pretty good fuck but it was just once and they definitely were better off as friends. She still didn’t know if Frankie knew. Not that she had to explain herself. Frankie always knew what effect he had on the women around him, and he sure as hell took advantage of it. And now she felt nothing more than love for him. As a friend, nothing more.

“Good Morning,” she said quietly and Frankie turned his head, yawning at her.

Chuckling she walked over taking in the kitchen, setting her toiletries down.

“You weren’t kidding when you say you were still renovating,” she sat down next to him. He got up from his seat walking over to fix her a mug of tea.

“Still hooked on Strawberry tea, I hope?” he asked and she nodded, surprised that he remembered.

“Yeah. Though the kitchen and living room are supposed to be finished by the end of next week. So sorry for the noise in the next couple days,” he walked over and set down the mug of tea in front of her.

“Hey it’s your house. I’m just thankful you let me stay.”

“Of course. Couldn’t let you stay in the dumpster motel in this town,” he winked. She took a sip of the tea and it was perfect.

“So what are you planning for today?” he asked.

“I probably should start looking into houses. I’m kind of on a timetable here,” she rested one hand on her belly and Frankie followed her movement.

“Yeah. I think Pope already called someone for some houses. It’s not looking good.”

“Yeah I thought so. Everything I found on the internet was in really bad shape,” she sighed.

“It’s gonna work out. And if you don’t find something, you’re welcome to stay. The place is big enough,” he shrugged and Claire laughed quietly.

“Yeah I bet you can’t wait to live with a hormonal pregnant woman and then with a newborn,” she joked.

“I lived with Pope. Nothing can be worse and…”

“And?” she asked.

“I already lived with a hormonal pregnant woman. It’s not that bad,” he shrugged with a small smile. She looked at him with a small smile on her face.

“You say that now. Wait till I’m craving your mug cake at 3am now that I’m living with you,” she joked. Frankie laughed.

“Wow I haven’t had one of those in at least 10 years.”

“Well then it’s about time.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, looking at Claire. She looked more relaxed today, like she had a good night’s sleep and he was thankful he put in an overnight to finish the guest room for her. She deserved to relax. When she told him that she not only was pregnant but dumped by her fiance Frankie was furious, yet at the same time he already decided that he would take care of her and help her with everything she needed. It was the least he could do.

Even though they grew apart in the last years, she still was one of his best friends.

“Okay. I’m gonna go take a shower. I got to drive out to check on a project. You gonna be okay here for a while?” Frankie asked. Claire nodded, grabbing her mug of tea.

“Just tell me when you’re going out so I can take a shower,” she said.

“Thank you, Frankie,” she whispered when she stopped next to him and softly kissed his cheek, before she walked down the hallway. Frankie looked after her with a soft smile before he got up to get ready to head out.

Next chapter

#my writing #going back home #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x ofc #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #frankie morales fanfiction

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nashibirne · 3 years

Text

Gimme Shelter - 2

Ready for chapter 2? Here it is. This whole fic, but especially this part, was inspired by this article/interview. Men's Journal Article In particular by Henry's statements about his time at boarding school.

In this chapter we learn about Henry's and Kat's past. I hope you enjoy it. If so, please leave me a comment, like or replog. 💜

Previous part -> Nashi's Masterlist

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Kat Spencer)

Words: ~3.4k

Summary: Henry has to deal with a personal crisis and he finds shelter with his old rugby mate Sam and his sister Kat. She used to be Henry’s best friend a very long time ago. Will they be able to become friends again or maybe even more? Chapter 2: Kat remembers the day Henry hurt her very much and they have the unavoidable conversation about it.

Warnings: RPF, mention of bullying, angst, humiliation

No beta! All mistakes are mine. English is not my mother tongue so expect bad grammar and wrong spelling.

Disclaimer: I don’t know the real Henry Cavill, this is pure fiction and nothing more

Credits: Pics for the moodboard from Pinterest. Faceclaims: Kat = Jennifer Connelly

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @madbaddic7ed @artandotherdelights @sweetlybigdragonn @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @rn7rocks

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And I say I'll never hurt her

But she knows it isn't true

'Cause although I never told her

I think she knows 'bout me and you."

From "When Susannah Cries", written by Amund Bjorklund/Espen Lind

****

Kat found herself confronted with Henry all alone after a week of avoiding him. Of course they had met when they had dinner together in the evenings but she had stayed out of Sam's and Henry's conversations most of the time and during the day she stayed in her office, busy with work. Sometimes she secretly watched him, peeking out of her window, when he played with Kal in the garden or when he was doing workouts or stretching when he came back from one of his runs, but she avoided meeting him.

She knew it was idiotic but she just couldn't forget their past. She felt childish and silly and of course it was unavoidable to talk about it at some point but she wasn't ready yet. On this Friday morning she was sitting in the kitchen having breakfast when he came back from his morning run unusually late.

"Morning, Kat." He flashed her a bright smile before he started to make a protein shake and an egg sandwich. He looked fantastic even when he was sweaty and worn out.

"Good morning." She avoided his gaze and concentrated on her porridge.

"Mind if I join you?" Henry pointed at the chair opposite of her.

"No. Please, sit." Kat gave him an awkward smile. It still felt so strange to have him around, it made her uncomfortable and tense.

"I already said this to Sam, the house is beautiful. I mean it always was, I remember it very well but what you made of it is great. Modern and traditional at the same time, perfect mixture."

"Thank you." She didn't know what else to say but Henry didn't seem to mind her taciturn reply, he kept on smiling and talking.

"I was pretty surprised when I heard that you moved here. I mean, you were always a big city girl, you hated Stowe, and then...St. Ives...not only for holidays but for good…"

"Yeah. At some point I was getting sick of the big city lights, of all the hectic and the noise and all the crowded places." Kat explained shrugging. "And when our parents thought about selling the house after their divorce, Sam and I decided to buy and renovate it. He was looking for a place to open a practise anyway and the old vet in town was giving up his, so it was the perfect opportunity for him and I can work from anywhere so we moved here."

"Right, Sam mentioned you're an editor."

"Yes. I have a little editing office and work as a freelancer for different publishing houses."

"That's great, Kat. You've always been good with words."

She smiled and this time it was more relaxed. "And you've always been a good entertainer."

Henry chuckled. "Most of the time you found my little performances annoying. I remember that very well."

Kat laughed. "You're right. When you tried your stand up comedy on me. That was a pain in the ass. But you were great on stage. You were a natural."

"We were a great team, all of our drama group."

"That's true but you were outstanding in Grease. Everyone said that. I remember our parents were gushing over your performance all night after the premiere." She laughed again and rolled her eyes.

"That must have sucked. Didn't your mother want to make you join the drama group too?" "Yes. And she hated that I preferred to write for the school newspaper. She thought I was wasting my creative potential."

"She was wrong. Your articles always were the most progressive, interesting and polarizing ones."

"Yeah, maybe. But she was right when she said you were extraordinarily talented. You're a great actor."

"Thanks, Kitty."

Her smile froze. Kitty. He was the only one who'd ever called her that. And he stopped doing it 22 years ago.

"I'm sorry, Kat. I don't know where that came from." He said with a remorseful frown.

"Just don't call me that ever again."

"Of course not. Unless you ask me to." He gave her a sheepish smile.

She shook her head, visibly annoyed. "Not gonna happen."

"Kat. Please, I'm really sorry and I know I lost every right to call you that a very long time ago but maybe we can start over again. Talk about what happened. I never got the chance to explain…"

"Don't even start, okay? I don't wanna hear it." She interrupted him mid-sentence and started to stir her coffee so angrily that she spilled half of it on the table.

Henry began to chew on his bottom lip. "It's just that my therapist told me to follow through my past, to take a close look at the mistakes I've made...to learn from them."

"My, my...too bad my therapist told me the exact opposite. Let the past die. Kill it if you have to. That's what he said."

Kat shrugged apologetically.

"That's not something a therapist would say, Kat. This is from Star Wars The Last Jedi. Ben Solo said this to Rey."

He knew the quote. Still a nerd, Kat thought. Still that damn cute dork.

"Never underestimate the wisdom of a Star Wars character."

"Ok, I get it. You don't wanna talk about it." Henry raised his hands in surrender.

"You catch on quick, don't you?" Kat said sarcastically.

Henry shook his head, rolling his eyes with an annoyed snort.

"Alright, let's keep it under the cloak of silence."

"Yup."

"Fine."

Kat crossed her arms and stared out of the window. Henry was fuming with anger. Why wouldn't she let him explain? Make a fresh start? They were 16 back then, stupid teenagers, why wasn't it possible to talk about this damn night now, 22 bloody years later? He bolted down his sandwich and his shake and left the room without another word.

****

Kat went upstairs after this unpleasant encounter and plopped down on her bed with a desperate sigh. She remembered that damn night so fucking well. Still. After all these years. It was burnt into her memory as the biggest humiliation of her life. The day her heart broke in a way, no man had ever been able to repair it. Superficially maybe but not to the core. That stupid summer dance. Kat closed her eyes and suddenly she was sixteen again.

I really don't know why I'm already wearing that silly dress three hours before I have to go, I didn't want to have it at all. At least not before Henry suggested going to the dance with me. As friends of course but nevertheless. It will be the two of us together. You and me, Kitty. Two lonely hearts. That's what Henry said to me. That was four weeks ago and ever since that day it's all I can think about. I look at my reflection in the mirror and I like what I see. The dress is cute, it's light blue and quite romantic with all the frills and the puffed sleeves and I feel like an Edwardian lady from one of the novels Henry and I love so much. I feel pretty and I want to be pretty for him. I want to look like a girl tonight, not like a tomboy. I even bought a headband with little flowers. I'd really love to hear Amy's opinion on my dress. She's my roommate and friend but she's at the hospital because she had an appendix operation.

The ringing of the phone in our room startles me. I take the call. It's Henry and he sounds awful. He says he has a very bad migraine and that he cannot go to the dance with me. He apologizes several times but of course it's not his fault. I know he has these attacks from time to time and I know he can't leave his bed when he does. He needs to sleep in complete silence and darkness and tomorrow he will be fine again. He tells me he wants me to go alone, to have fun tonight but of course I'm not going anywhere without him and he knows it. It's a shame, that's true but where's the point in going to a dance alone without my only friends, without Amy, without Henry.

I take off my dress and put on jeans and a hoodie. I look out of the window, the weather is wonderful and I decide to take a walk to distract myself from the disappointment.

Of course I run right into my big brother Samuel. He asks me what I'm doing in the park. Why I'm not getting ready for the big party and for my date. He just can't stop making fun of me. He knows it's not a date, that Henry and I are just friends but he loves to tease me. He says I'm in love with Henry and of course he's right, I am in love with him, deeply, I'm in love for the first time in my life but I keep on denying it. Sam must never know that he's right because he would use it against me, that's for sure. When I tell him about Henry and the migraine he says I can't skip the dance, that I really need some fun and that I'm going to like it. He convinces me to go with him. His date has dumped him because he cheated on her. He's a notorious heartbreaker but deep inside he is a nice guy and -all in all- a pretty good big brother. I hesitate but then I think of the beautiful dress that's waiting for me in my room and so I finally agree.

I go to Henry's room to tell him I'm going with Sam and to explain why. I don't want him to be upset that I go without him. I knock but there's no answer. I guess he sleeps and I don't want to wake him up and so I leave.

Sam picks me up at nine. The dance starts at eight but he wants a big entrance. It's all about attention and drama, Kat, he says and I guess he's right.

When we arrive at the party Sam soon disappears with Molly Smith, one of his many exes and I stand alone beside the cold buffet. That's when I see him. At first I don't believe my eyes but it's really him. It's Henry. He's standing there with all the popular kids, chatting and laughing and holding hands with Poppy Edwards, the most beautiful girl of our school. No sign of a bad migraine. I feel like I'm going to pass out. I can't look away, I want to but I just can't turn my eyes away from him. When he notices me his face falls. He stares at me and so does everyone who's standing there with him. My first impulse is to turn around and run away but I don't. My pride is stronger than the stinging pain in my heart. He obviously doesn't want me to be here. To see him with his new friends and his date or girlfriend or whatever this is. I jut my chin defiantly and stand my ground. I watch in horror how Poppy takes Henry by the hand and drags him in my direction. Their friends follow them.

She greets me with a smile that's sweet as sugar but the words that come out of her mouth are like poison. "Katherine, what a pretty dress. Where did you get it?" Before I'm able to stammer an answer she keeps going. "Did you find it in the prop room of the drama group? You look like Eliza Doolittle." She gives me a fake smile and her stupid friends start to giggle. I know my face is flaming red with anger, embarrassment and humiliation but Poppy's not done with me yet. She turns to Henry. "I bet she wants you to be her Professor Higgins. Everybody knows she has a crush on you. Maybe she wants to kiss you. Do you want to kiss this dressed up tomboy, Henry? Or do you want to kiss me?" Now every single one of them bursts out laughing and it feels like a punch in the guts. I'm on the brink of tears. I look at Henry, searching for help, but there's no reaction. He doesn't speak up against them, does nothing to defend and protect me, he doesn't even look at me. He doesn't do anything, he just stands there staring holes in the ground, avoiding my gaze. I can't stand this anymore. Him. Her. All of them. I turn around and leave fully aware of the fact that this moment marks the end of our friendship.

When Kat woke up from that ghastly memory she felt just as terrible as 22 years ago. Humiliated and ashamed and angry. Very angry. She got up with a jolt, ran up the stairs to the second floor and headed right to Henry's rooms. She didn't knock, just stormed in, finding him standing there in only a pair of briefs. His curls were wet and he smelled heavenly. She stopped in her tracks and Henry stared at her. "Kat. What the fuck. Ever heard of privacy? Ever heard of knocking?"

She didn't answer, she just stood there unsure what to do or say. Henry put on a shirt and sweatpants and turned to her again. "Can I help you?"

"Explain." Kat said. "Explain to me what happened at the dance."

"Now?"

"Yes. Now. Is that a problem?"

He shook his head slowly. "Not at all. Wanna sit?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Come on, Kat. This may take a while."

With a sigh she sat down on the sofa while Henry plopped down in the arm chair beside the window.

"So?" Kat looked at him expectantly.

"Well, first of all I wanna say I was a stupid wank back then. I lied to you and I let you down. I know this now, I knew it then, but when Poppy asked me to go to the dance with her…"

"When?"

"What?"

"When did she ask you?"

"A week before the ball."

Kat nodded. "Okay. Go on."

"Right. When Poppy asked me I just couldn't say no. I mean she was the most popular girl in our school and she wanted to go with a nobody like me. With fat Cavill, the lemon. Her attention just felt so good. The thought that she might be interested in me...it was too tempting to not give it a try. I just couldn't refuse her. I faked that migraine because I thought it was the easiest way to keep you away from the dance. I was sure you'd never go without me but I was wrong. I considered telling you the truth, I really did because I hated lying to you, Kat, but I finally decided to keep it a secret because I was sure you would try to talk me out of it. I knew you hated Poppy..."

"Yes, I did. She was a bitch. A manipulative, arrogant bitch and a bully."

"Like Aaron Taylor you mean?" Henry snapped at her with an angry glance. After all these years he was still jealous of the guy. "Aaron was arrogant, yes, but he was never manipulating anyone. He was more honest and true to himself than every single one of you and your friends. And for sure he was no bully. I wouldn't have been with him if he'd bullied anyone. He was a good guy."

"Poppy wasn't that bad either. The real Poppy I mean. Not the queen bee she pretended to be."

Kat turned her eyes towards the ceiling and shook her head in disbelief. "Yeah, sure. She was an angel…You know, that was the hardest part. To process that you of all people were with a girl like her. She and her friends made fun of us and our love for literature so many times." Her voice got tense and she took a deep breath to calm down. Henry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before he continued to speak.

"Anyway. I never wanted to hurt you, Kat. I hope you know that. I didn't expect you to show up and I know the way I treated you was awful. I didn't defend you, I hurt your feelings, I betrayed you and behaved like an asshole. I know this is almost inexcusable but I want you to know that I'm really sorry. I was back then but I didn't dare to tell you. And I still am. I'm sorry and ashamed of my behaviour. I can only apologize and hope for forgiveness." He avoided her gaze, staring at his hands.

A long silent pause followed his statement but after a while Kat inhaled deeply and after clearing her throat she started to talk. "Thank you, Henry. This really means a lot to me. I mean, hearing you admit all that. And the betrayal, that's what hurt the most. I want you to know that it was never about the fact that you didn't return my feelings for you. I mean, of course I was jealous of Poppy, but…"

Now Henry was the one to cut in.

"Wait. Your feelings for me?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

"Come on, don't act stupid. You must have known how I felt about you. I was pretty obvious and Poppy told everyone at the dance that I had a crush on you." Kat knew she was blushing but it was embarrassing to say that out loud.

"Kat, I swear I had no idea. I thought Poppy was just joking. I never considered you'd see me this way." He looked her right in the eyes before he continued. "You told me that you don't see me as a boy. That I was -and that's a quote I will never be able to forget- 'just like a girl that has a teeny wiener' to you."

"Oh god, Henry. I was 13 when I said that and I was a brat with a loose tongue. I did see you as a boy when we got older. Of course I did…" Kat gave him an awkward smile.

"So you really had a crush on me? Why didn't you say anything?"

"To be honest it was a little more than a crush. I was in love with you. And when you said you'd go to the dance with me I thought that maybe there we would dance and get close and maybe share a special moment and a kiss or...I don't know. I just had these silly romantic fantasies…" Kat swallowed hard and shrugged.

"You hoped that we'd become a couple that night."

She nodded.

"I never knew this, Kat." Henry felt awful. If he'd only known, he would never have said yes to Poppy if he'd had the slightest notion that Kat was in love with him.

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore, does it. That was 22 years ago. I'm not that girl anymore and you most definitely aren't that boy."

Kat got up and clapped her hands.

"I guess it's a good thing we've talked this through. Your therapist is going to like it." She gave him a sarcastic smile and Henry got up too. He came closer but Kat took a step back and so he didn't move any further.

"Do you think you can forgive me?"

"I already have, Henry. I know you didn't do it on purpose or to hurt me. We were so young and now as an adult I somehow unterstand why you acted that way...but that's not the point. The problem is to forget and to trust you again."

He nodded slowly. "I understand that, Kat. Just give me a second chance, okay?"

She took a deep breath. "I'll try to. But I need time. Time to get used to you, to the whole situation."

"Sure." And then he pulled her into a hug that felt right and wrong at the same time and left her dizzy and with a racing heart. "I won't let you down again, Kat." Oh how she wished she could believe his whispered words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

tbc

#rpf #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #cavillry #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x ofc #friends to lovers #slow burn #henry cavill slow burn #henry cavill friends to lovers #friends to lovers fic #slow burn fic

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massivedrickhead · 3 years

Note

could you write maybe something about beca and chloe at a farmer's market at their first christmas together as a couple starting up new traditions? like getting hot chocolate, picking ornaments and a tree, stuff like that

Naturally I couldn’t write just normal Christmas fluff, I had to add a bit of angsty hurt/comfort in there. So, trigger warning: alcoholism is mentioned.

Read on AO3

Saturday mornings were Beca’s favourite time of the week for two reasons.

One, she got to sleep through them, catching up on all the sleep she’d lost through the week.

Two, she got to sleep through them with Chloe.

Chloe, the perpetual early bird, the seizer of every moment, had finally relented and given Beca this one lazy morning.

(Beca had tried to get Sunday morning too, but Chloe said she was pushing it.)

So on Saturdays they lay warm and comfortable, wrapped in each others arms, under layers of blankets because they couldn’t keep the heating 24 hours a day, and New York winters were cold.

They’d sleep late, waking up every few hours to exchange lazy kisses, before falling asleep again, eventually waking up to eat a late breakfast (read: lunch).

Except this Saturday was different.

Chloe was tugging the blankets away from Beca, or trying to at least, and telling her to get up and shower or they’d be late.

“Late for what?” Beca mumbled, her grip on the blankets surprisingly strong for 8 am.

“The Christmas market!”

“It is November 28th,” Beca said, incredulously, finally giving up and allowing Chloe to whip the blankets away.

“Exactly! So we need to go buy our decorations if we’re gonna stick to our plan!”

Beca sat up, brows furrowed, hair sticking up at every possible angle.

“I knew that plan would come back to bite me.”

“Come on, up! Up! Up!” Chloe said, each up punctuated by a clap of her hands.

Begrudgingly Beca climbed out of the safety and warmth of bed and made the quick cold dash to the shower. She felt herself relax as the hot water came sputtering out of the shower head and chased away the cold of their bathroom.

Their plan - or Beca and Chloe’s awesome best Christmas ever, as Chloe had dubbed it - had been finalised only a few days before.

It was their first real Christmas living together as a couple that would be spent just the two of them.

Chloe’s mom had video called her and said that as all her kids were grown up now, her and Chloe’s dad would be going on vacation for Christmas from now on.

Chloe had pouted and pleaded but her mom’s mind was made up. She said they had to start making new traditions now that they were getting older, and Chloe should do the same.

Chloe was still miserable when Beca had gotten home from work late that night.

“You know, we could start making our own traditions,” Beca said, trying to coax Chloe out of her bad mood. “That’s the fun part about growing up, right? When you’re a kid you just do what you’ve always done, but when you grow up and you start your new family, you get to try new things. Mix things up a bit. Create new traditions that you get to pass on.”

“I guess,” Chloe mumbled, allowing Beca to put an arm around her and squeeze her into a side hug.

“Come on,” Beca said, squeezing again, “let’s think of some things we can do.”

And so they spent the next hour making their plan.

“The Christmas decorations go up the first weekend in December,” Chloe said, writing the first part of their plan. “So we should buy decorations soon.”

“Okay,” Beca said. “But no lights that make noise or dancing Santas or anything.”

“Agreed,” Chloe said. “How do you feel about flashing lights?” Beca pulled a face. “Me too.”

“Christmas Eve we get take-out,” Beca said, realising this was her only Christmas tradition she wanted to carry over. “Chinese.”

“Sure,” Chloe said. “But you’re skipping ahead. We have a lot of December to fill. Christmas movies every weekend until Christmas Day.”

“Christmas movie,” Beca said. “You get one per weekend.”

“Two,” Chloe said, grinning, knowing she would win any negotiation.

“Fine. One on Saturday, one on Sunday,” Beca said.

“Deal,” Chloe said. “Naturally Christmas music while we decorate.”

“Naturally,” Beca said. “But no Glee cover versions.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Christmas sweaters?”

“Sure.”

“Matching?”

“Absolutely not.”

It carried on like that until they had their December planned out. And Beca wouldn’t admit it, but she was actually kind of excited about their first solo Christmas. They had spent last year with Chloe’s family, and the year before they hadn’t been dating so while Chloe had gone home, Beca had hung around in New York with anyone she could find who was still in town.

She’d had no desire to go back to her home town for Christmas for a long time now.

So she was excited to have Christmas plans that she could look forward to.

That was until Chloe had woken her up at 8 am on a Saturday so she could drag her around a Christmas market in New York.

“Is it gonna be crowded?” Beca asked, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee from Chloe as she left their bedroom, now fully dressed.

“Maybe,” Chloe said. “If we get there early enough it shouldn’t be too bad. Plus it’s not even December yet. I think it’ll get busier the longer we leave it.”

“Maybe next year we should do our Christmas shopping in June,” Beca said.

“I know you’re kidding but I promise you my Aunt Cheryl was fully wrapped by August,” Chloe said. “Anyway, don’t worry about the crowds. I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.”

“Okay, take it easy, you’re like an inch taller than me,” Beca said, rolling her eyes.

“If you say so,” Chloe said. “Okay, it opens soon, are you ready to go?”

They left their apartment, made the short but freezing walk to the subway, and about half an hour later they reached their stop.

“Hot chocolate?” Chloe asked, taking holding of Beca’s hand and pulling her towards where the market was set up.

“Good idea,” Beca said, shivering, her breath coming out in white clouds.

Beca looked around while Chloe ordered their drinks. It wasn’t too busy yet, she was glad to see, but she knew it was only likely to stay that way for another few hours. She hoped she’d be back in their apartment by lunch, but Chloe likely had other ideas.

“Here you go,” Chloe said, handing over a cup. “So, where first?”

“Lead the way,” Beca said, gesturing towards the many stalls laid out in front of them.

They spent the next few hours weaving through the crowds as they looked at every stall. Chloe bought them almost matching Christmas sweaters - one for Chloe reading ‘I’m on the nice list’ and one for Beca which said ‘I’m on the naughty list’ - to which Beca had tried to protest.

“Are you telling me you’ve been a good girl this year, Beca? After the noises you made last night?” Chloe asked with a wink, causing Beca to blush furiously and stop complaining.

“I’m not wearing it in public,” Beca muttered.

“Duh, they’re for Christmas Day,” Chloe had replied, pulling her towards another stall that sold Christmas tree ornaments.

Chloe picked up some generic baubles, as well as some that seemed more personal to her. She grabbed a dog, a treble clef, and a teacup.

“Spotted any that speak to you?” Chloe asked.

Beca shrugged, but her eyes were fixed on what looked like a little ornament of a carton of Chinese takeout.

“This one?” Chloe asked.

Beca cleared her throat. “Yeah,” she said, trying to avoid Chloe’s eyes as she picked it up.

“What about the red panda?”

“Oh I didn’t even see him!” Beca said, almost squealing.

“Get the guitar too,” Chloe said, laughing at Beca’s reaction. “Then we have three each.”

“Okay,” Beca said. “I’ll get these, you bought the sweaters. Do you wanna get a star?”

“My Mom is gonna send our old one with some other bits, if that’s okay?”

“Fine with me,” Beca said before she paid and they carried on walking, Chloe’s hand never leaving hers the entire time.

Chloe bought them some lunch once they reached what seemed to be the end of the first half of the market. They still had to walk down the other side so Beca was predicting they’d be here another hour at least.

“Doing okay?” Chloe asked, knowing how much Beca hated crowds.

Beca nodded, loosening the scarf around her neck as they sat at one of the picnic tables set out by the food stalls.”How much longer?”

“We can stop whenever you want, Becs, you know that right?” Chloe asked, looking at her with concern filled eyes.

“I know,” Beca said, smiling, waiting for her Mac and Cheese to cool. “I was just wondering.”

Chloe pulled up the list on her phone and started ticking things off.

“It looks like we’ve got everything we came for. We can head back now if you want?”

“You wanna see the rest though, right?” Beca asked.

“Well, yeah, but I can come back another time.” Chloe said.

Beca shook her head. “I’m good. We can see the rest. Just promise I won’t have to move out of bed until at least noon tomorrow.”

“And that’s different from how you normally spend your Sunday?”

“Sorry, I should have clarified, you’ll need to stay in bed with me.”

“I guess I can agree to that,” Chloe said.

It was a week later and Chloe was dragging their newly purchased tree into their living room, close to the window so it could be seen from outside.

She was wearing a Santa hat, had tinsel wrapped around her neck like a scarf, and was singing along to their Christmas playlist.

Beca was sitting on the arm of the sofa, getting seemingly more and more frustrated as she tried to untangle the lights.

“These are brand-new lights,” Beca muttered. “How are they already tangled?”

“Give them here,” Chloe said. “You just don’t have the magic touch.”

“That’s not what you said last night.”

“Very funny,” Chloe said, holding out her hands for the lights.

Beca handed them over but before she could say anything else, she was cut off by her phone buzzing in her pocket. She pulled it out and sighed, lowering the volume on the music.

“It’s my Mom,” she said, pressing the green button and moving out of the living room and towards the bedroom. “Hey mom.”

Chloe frowned and bit her lip, wondering if she should continue.

This was something they should be doing together, but she also knew Beca usually ended up in a crappy mood after she spoke to her Mom.

Their relationship had been strained for as long as Chloe had known Beca, but she never really found out much about it. Beca didn’t speak about her much, and always clammed up whenever Chloe would ask, even now.

Chloe focused on detangling the lights, but decided she wouldn’t do any of the actual decorating until Beca came back.

It was almost an hour later when Beca came out of their bedroom and dropped onto the sofa beside Chloe.

“You okay?” Chloe asked, looking up from her phone.

Beca gave a non-committal grunt and turned to look at the tree. “You didn’t make much progress. Couldn’t untangle the lights?”

“Please, I did that in like 5 minutes. I wanted to wait for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Beca said, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t mean to take that long but…” Beca shook her head as she trailed off. “It doesn’t matter.” She pulled out her phone and restarted their playlist which had ended while Beca had been talking to her Mom. “Ready to carry on?”

Chloe smiled and nodded, and the two returned to their tree.

When it was decorated with a combination of the new stuff they had bought together, and the old stuff Chloe’s Mom had sent they both stood for a minute, smiling at their handiwork. Chloe’s arms came to wrap around Beca’s waist, her chin resting on Beca’s shoulder.

“I love it,” Chloe said, giving Beca a squeeze and kissing the side of her neck.

“Me too,” Beca said.

The soft white lights wrapped around the tree glowed with warmth against the now dark sky, the streetlights below barely reaching the window of their apartment.

It filled Beca with a feeling of cosiness and contentment that she didn’t usually associate with this time of year. Or any time of year for that matter.

“You know, if you wanted to talk about stuff with your Mom you can?” Chloe said, cautiously, feeling Beca tense beneath her arms.

“I’m good,” Beca said. “What movie are we watching?”

“Elf,” Chloe said, squeezing Beca even tighter.

Two weeks later, Chloe woke up in the middle of the night freezing cold and instinctively reached out for Beca. When her hand met cold sheets instead of Beca’s warm body, she opened her eyes, frowning.

It was then she realised she could hear Beca’s voice coming from the next room. She checked her phone and saw it was almost 2 am.

Frowning, she stepped out of bed and into the living room, pulling on her robe as she went.

“Mom, I can’t have this conversation with you again,” Beca said, pinching the bridge of her nose as she paced the living room. “I’m not in Barden anymore, Mom, I can’t just come over. We’ve been through this, I’m in New York.”

Chloe watched as Beca traced one of the ornaments on their now dark tree with her finger.

“Look, I’m gonna go, okay? It’s late. Yeah. Yeah I know.”

Chloe heard Beca suck in a breath the way she always did when she was trying not to cry.

“I love you too,” Beca said, her voice breaking. She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. “I’m gonna call Grandma tomorrow, okay? She can check on you.”

When she ended the call she jumped as she felt Chloe’s arms wrap around her, but she soon relaxed into her. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Chloe said. She tugged Beca’s hand and pulled her towards the window. “Look, it’s snowing.”

They sat on the floor, the Chloe’s back against the wall, Beca’s back against Chloe’s front, and they looked looked out the window, watching the snow drift down, turning yellow as it fell under the light of the streetlights.

They were quiet for a while until Beca finally spoke.

“She’s drinking again,” Beca said, tapping her phone against her leg. “She’s been calling more and more. Wanting me to go over. She… She’s always had trouble with her short term memory, and it only gets worse when she drinks. She thinks I’m still in Georgia.”

“I’m sorry Becs,” Chloe said. “It must be hard being away from her at times like this.”

Beca sniffed and rested a hand on Chloe’s leg, her thumb brushing against the soft fabric of her pyjamas. “Does it make me a shitty person if I say I’m glad I’m not in Georgia right now?”

“No,” Chloe said. “Of course not.”

“I don’t… I don’t like seeing her like this. It just… It reminds me of being a kid, a while after after they got divorced but before my Mom lost custody. She drank a lot then. Sometimes it was kinda fun. She’d let me skip school and we’d go on these adventures together or we’d stay up late eating pizza and playing video games. And then… It was like flipping a switch. She’d just… change. She used to scare me.”

Chloe’s grip tightened around Beca’s waist, and she pressed her lips into the back of her head.

“She knows I’ll only visit when she’s sober. And maybe that makes me selfish. I know I should be there when she needs me. She’s my Mom. I love her,” Beca said, cutting herself off as her voice broke again.

“I know,” Chloe said, softly, pulling her closer. “You’re allowed to put yourself first. You shouldn’t go back to an environment that’s bad for you. And you’re the least selfish person I know. I love you, so so much.”

“I love you too,” Beca said, wiping her eyes as they continued to watch the snow which had only gotten heavier. “It wasn’t all bad,” Beca said, after a while. “Before she started really drinking, we had some good times together, just the two of us. For years. Christmas Eve was always my favourite day of the year.”

“Chinese takeout?”

“Yeah,” Beca said with a small laugh. “She’d order my favourite and we’d have like a slumber party in the living room, watching movies and drinking hot chocolate. She said if I could stay awake until midnight, I’d be allowed to open one present. I never made it,” Beca said, smiling at the memory. “Even when things were really bad, when her drinking was at its worst, that was the one day that would always be good. Christmas wasn’t really the same when I had to move in with my Dad and Sheila. He tried but I guess I was just too angry and closed off by then.” Beca turned to face Chloe now. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving me a proper Christmas. For giving me new traditions and letting me reconnect with old ones. For being you.” She leaned forward to kiss her, and Chloe knelt up to meet her halfway.

“Chlo’ if I’m out of scotch tape can I use masking tape?” Beca called from the bedroom, two days before Christmas.

“No,” Chloe called back from the living room. Beca’s last present for Chloe had finally arrived, so she had spent the last few hours locked in their bedroom wrapping presents.

“I have more clear tape,” Chloe said, rummaging in a kitchen drawer until she found some.

“Don’t come in!” Beca said, in a panicked voice. She opened the door and quickly closed it behind her.

“Here,” Chloe said. “Are you gonna be much longer? I’m bored.”

“Almost done,” Beca said, returning to their bedroom and shutting the door.

“Here you go,” Chloe said, handing Beca her container of take-out Chinese and a pair of chopsticks.

“Thank you,” Beca said, grinning as she dug in. Chloe set two mugs of hot chocolate down on the coffee table, and pressed play on Netflix.

“Thank you for tolerating all my movies this month,” Chloe said, smiling as the opening music for Home Alone played.

“This one gets a free pass. It’s a classic.”

“I agree.”

“So,” Beca said, swallowing a mouthful of orange chicken. “If I stay up until midnight do I get to open a present early?”

“Sure,” Chloe said, grinning. “But you’ve been yawning since 6:30, I don’t think you’re gonna make it.”

To her credit, Beca lasted until 10:30 pm, falling asleep with 20 minutes to go in Home Alone 2.

When Chloe switched the movie off, the only light in the room was coming from the tree and the string of fairy lights around their window. She thought that Beca looked beautiful in the soft glow of the lights, her face relaxed and free of the stress she had been carrying around the last few weeks.

Still, she was a little disappointed she hadn’t made it until midnight, there was one gift she had wanted to give her tonight.

The next morning, Chloe tried to coax Beca out of bed at 7 am, with promises of coffee and pancakes for breakfast, but Beca would not budge.

“But it’s Christmas morning,” Chloe pouted.

“It’ll still be Christmas morning in an hour,” Beca mumbled, tugging Chloe back to bed, and curling around her to stop her moving again. “You don’t need to be up so early, you’re not 6.”

“And you don’t need to sleep all morning, you’re not 15.”

“Touche,” Beca mumbled. “Merry Christmas by the way.”

“Merry Christmas,” Chloe said, grinning.

After another 40 minutes of dosing in bed, Beca finally let Chloe drag her up.

They ate breakfast in their Christmas pyjamas, and then, at Chloe’s request, they got dressed in their almost-matching sweaters and took a selfie in front of their tree.

As they exchanged gifts, they both got increasingly more nervous. Something neither of them realised as they were too preoccupied with their own nerves to be focused on the other person.

“I, um, actually have one more for you,” Beca said, standing. “Two seconds.” She moved into the bedroom.

“Yeah, I do too,” Chloe said, reaching towards the back of the tree where the final present was hidden.

After a few minutes of silence, Beca spoke up from the bedroom.

“Chlo’, can you come in here for a minute?”

Chloe suddenly got a weird feeling in her stomach, and the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile.

“Actually Beca, I kinda need you in here,” Chloe said.

There was a small silence.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“It can’t wait?”

“No.”

Another small silence.

“Meet halfway?” Beca asked.

“Okay,” Chloe said. She stood from where she was in the living room and moved so she was in front of the window.

Beca left the bedroom, something held behind her back, and she walked until she was standing in front of Chloe.

Without a word, they both dropped to one knee.

“Chloe Beale.”

“Rebeca Mitchell.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Will you marry me?”

“Duh.”

They both laughed and kissed until they had to stop, happy tears streaming down both of their faces.

“I know we haven’t been officially together that long,” Beca said, wiping her eyes as she slid the ring onto Chloe’s finger. “But you’re my soulmate. I don’t ever want to be with anybody else.”

“I love you so much, Beca. I feel like I waited my whole life for you,” Chloe said, sliding the ring onto Beca’s finger. “I want spend the rest of it with you.”

“Best Christmas ever,” Beca said, still laughing and crying.

“Almost as good as the year we got a Wii,” Chloe said, earning a smack on the arm from Beca.

“I love you.”

“Love you more.”

85 notes · View notes

gureishi · 3 years

Text

Hi hello hi.

I’ve got a bunch of wonderful prompts sitting in my inbox but I was feeling anxious af yesterday and today I had to go to a freakin Zoom funeral and my anxiety brain instead spewed out...this.

I was watching a playthrough of the Forgive ending to try and sort out the timeline for the Jihyun request I’m writing (which I should be posting tomorrow~ <3) and then I started thinking about the disturbing little hints that are in there about depressed Saeyoung and alcohol, and then my anxiety said I needed to write about it. So I transposed that thought into another timeline so my boy could have an mc cause god knows otherwise it would get way worse.

I know alcohol is a really sensitive topic when it pertains to the Choi twins because of their trauma relating specifically to alcohol and alcoholism. To be super super clear, drinking can be fine and okay and not harmful for lots of people, but that’s not the type of drinking I’m portraying here.

YEESH, I’ll stop rambling. Cw for alcohol abuse; if Saeyoung drinking alcohol is gonna be triggering for you please skip this one. Take care of yourself I love you <3

wanna be ok

The bunker is dark when you get home, and that is your first sign that something is wrong.

You’re off work a little early, and you fully expected to find the house bright and full of energy. Usually at this time, there would be at least one brother in the living room. There’d be a half-built robot croaking gibberish in a corner or an inexplicable mess from some overly enthusiastic project in the hall.

But when the door slides open (greeting you by name, of course), you’re met with darkness and a startling, eerie quiet. Could they both have fallen asleep…? You check your watch. It’s just after nine.

“Saeyoung…?” You slip off your shoes, calling quietly in case he really is asleep. He hasn’t been sleeping much since his father’s investigation began, waking up at night and pacing the house. Sometimes he does fall asleep at the computer, even these days…

No answer. You peek into the darkened living room. Nothing. No light from his office or the bedroom, either.

You hear a noise and spin, senses on high alert. All your instincts telling you that something is certainly off, you peer warily around the corner.

He’s in the kitchen.

“Babe?”

He’s perched precariously on one of the tall stools at the kitchen island. His arms are everywhere, splayed over the scrubbed wood; he’s slumped over, head in the crook of his elbow. His hair is mussed as though he’s been running his hands through it.

None of this surprises you too much—it’s much a difficult few days. But what does startle you is the stale, harsh smell in the air. There’s a bottle on the counter that looks suspiciously like…

Dread settles in your stomach like hot lead.

You call his name again, some foolishly optimistic part of your mind hopeful that this is an off-color prank. But this isn’t the kind of thing he jokes about.

At the sound of his name, he stirs, lifts his head. As he does, he slips to the side, almost falling off the stool—catching himself at the last minute on the island.

He blinks at you blearily, as if he’s trying to get you into focus, and you know in that moment that he’s not messing with you.

“Hiii, babe,” he slurs, his voice thick. He tries to say your name, stumbles over it. Laughs at himself.

“Honey.” You approach him cautiously. Closer up, the smell is unmistakable—it’s whiskey, mingling with his natural spicy-sweet scent in a way that you find particularly unsettling. “What did you do?”

He tries to spin around in the stool to face you and nearly falls again—you have to reach out an arm to grab him. He gazes at you dizzily, his eyes glazed over.

“Wha’ d’you mean?” he mumbles, his words running together. He sways dangerously on the stool and you put a hand on his shoulder, bracing him. Out of the corner of your eye, you peer at the bottle beside him—it’s one you’d gotten as a gift ages ago and put away in a closet. It’s more than half empty.

“Baby, why did you drink that?” You shift, taking his face in both your hands; he’s unstable again without your hand on his shoulder. You turn him, make him look you in the eye—and he tries, he tries, but his gaze slides over your face as though he can’t quite focus on it.

“You’re pretty,” he sings, and he leans forward as if to kiss you—and misses, his head falling onto your shoulder. “Missed,” he says, giggling. His hands reach clumsily for your waist.

It would be almost cute, you think, under other circumstances. If it weren’t Saeyoung, who doesn’t drink alcohol. Who’s promised himself never to drink alcohol—and for good reason.

He presses his lips against your neck, tilting sideways as he does so. Okay. Okay. One thing at a time. You know how to deal with drunk people, under normal circumstances. Just pretend it’s not Saeyoung. Just for now.

“Come with me, baby,” you say, expertly evading his grasp and offering him both your hands. “Let’s go sit somewhere a little more comfy, okay?”

“Don’wanna,” he mumbles, titling to the right. “Comfy here.”

“You’ll be comfier on the couch, I promise.” You keep your voice light. Taking both his hands, you give a gentle tug, and he obliges you, sliding off the stool without any of his usual grace or agility. He sways as he lands on his feet and you brace him with both hands again, waiting till his gaze clears.

You lead him to the living room and he comes obediently, albeit stumblingly.

“…m’too drunk for this,” he mutters, laughing at himself as he narrowly avoids running face-first into the door frame.

“Too drunk to walk to the living room?” You guide him more carefully now. Most people would be well and truly messed up from the amount that he drank—based on your cursory assessment of the kitchen, anyway. For him—someone who has, to your knowledge, quite literally never consumed alcohol before—it’s astonishing he’s even still conscious.

You steer him to the couch. He hesitates and you turn to him—his face has gone pale, and he claps a hand over his mouth.

“M’gonna…never mind.” He shuts his eyes.

With some difficulty, you get him onto the couch. He slides sideways immediately and you slip a pillow under his head. He smiles a sloppy, lopsided grin.

“…galaxy,” he murmurs, sinking heavily into the pillow. You don’t question it.

Confident that he’s not going anywhere, you make your way back to the kitchen, fill a big glass with water. Now that you’re alone, your hands are shaking.

It’s not the end of the world to get drunk, but it’s certainly less than great to do it alone. It’s worse, though, so much worse, because it’s him—because of the promise he made to himself, because of the memories of his mother’s violence, because of the fear you know he has of those same genes manifesting in him.

You know that the last few days have been difficult, that the trial’s brought up memories he’d long repressed. But you wouldn’t ever have anticipated…this.

What could possibly have happened?

You take in the havoc in the kitchen: in addition to the whiskey bottle, there’s a glass knocked over on its side as well as the usual debris from chips and other junk food. One of the stools is on the ground.

And where, you think suddenly, is Saeran?

You take a deep, steadying breath—care now, you remind yourself. Figure out the rest later.

When you return to the living room with the water, he’s crying.

His eyes are shut tight and he’s wrapped both arms around the pillow; there are tear tracks on his cheeks and as you approach he lets out a quiet, pitiful sob.

“Sweetheart…” You kneel beside him and he wriggles toward you like a wounded animal. You bring a hand to his face and wipe away the tears and he clumsily throws out one arm and dangles it over your body.

“Drink a little bit of this, please, love.” You tilt the cup toward his mouth and he opens his lips the tiniest bit. You get a little water in him; most of it ends up on the couch.

“…still hates me,” he mutters, pushing aside the cup, nuzzling his face into your chest. You stroke his messy, tangled hair with your free hand, pulling it off his forehead.

“Who does, baby?”

“Saeran…does.”

You run your fingers over his feverish skin; his cheeks are flushed and his forehead is warm to the touch.

“Saeran doesn’t hate you, honey. I promise he doesn’t.” You try again with the water. It’s a little more successful this time.

“Does. We hadda…fight,” he slurs. “Gotta…find’m.” Defying all logic, he tries to sit up again, using your shoulders for leverage. Even in this state, he’s stubborn as hell.

“Where is he?” you ask, not sure if Saeyoung will even be able to tell you. You help him wriggle into a sitting position, thinking it’s perhaps safer than lying down after all.

“Walk,” he murmurs. He’s trying to look at you again, his eyes wandering over your face. “Babe! Your face’s…blurry.”

You sigh. It’s not out of the ordinary Saeyoung to push Saeran too far, or for Saeran to snap at him and go for a walk to clear his head. You wonder if the confluence of circumstances—the trial, both twins’ tensions running extra high, the memories Saeyoung associates with his family and raised voices and a dark, empty house—led to this turn of events.

One of the cameras near the door flickers to life—someone’s coming into the garage. You sit up stick straight. Saeran was just on a walk—he couldn’t have gone far. Which means…

“Baby, I’m so sorry, but I need you to move again.”

He groans and mutters something you don’t understand, but you have no time to waste. Glad you’ve already got him sitting, you slide your hands under both his arms and pull. He sags like a rag doll, but he doesn’t weigh a lot, and you’re strong—you tug him to a standing position and he sways dangerously in place, his face pale again.

“Can’t,” he moans, and you don’t have time to pity him. You simply can’t risk the consequences—for both brothers—of Saeran finding him like this.

“C’mon, sweetheart, please try to walk. For me.” You kiss him firmly on the cheek and he perks up a little, reaching for you. You take both his hands again and walk backwards, guiding him to the bedroom.

“No more…” he moans, but you get him down the hall and into the room, giving the corners a wider berth this time.

Panting, you deposit him on the bed.

“…spinning,” he mutters, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“I swear I will be right back,” you gasp, and you run from the room before he can respond. You sprint to the kitchen, sweep the whiskey bottle into the cabinet under the sink. You dump the glass and throw it under there too for good measure. You right the stool, leaving the chips bags—that’s normal enough.

But the smell…

You hastily grab your bag, which you’d dropped on the floor earlier when you’d found him here—pull out the little bottle of perfume you carry, spritz it liberally over the kitchen island. You inhale. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than nothing.

You throw open the big window over the sink and, bag under your arm, slink back to your bedroom. As the bedroom door is shutting behind you, you hear the security system beeping, the front door sliding open. Just in time.

You spin around. Now where is…?

A soft moan from the en suite bathroom answers your question. You peer through the dark—sure enough, he’s sprawled on the ground, head bent over the toilet. The fact that he’s managed to drag himself there is impressive. You sigh—this was inevitable and is probably for the best.

You sit with him there for a long time: pressing a cool, wet washcloth to his head, plying him with tiny sips of water when you can. He apologizes to you again and again in a raw, miserable voice; you stroke his hair and rub his back and promise him that he’s going to be okay.

Eventually he slumps into your lap and, almost incoherently, whispers the word “bed.” So you hoist him up again, arms around his torso; he tries valiantly to help you, stumbling through the doorway, over the carpeted floor. You guide him onto the bed and he practically melts into it, his breathing immediately slowing, deepening.

You get him as comfortable as you can—wresting his jeans off and casting them aside, tucking the blankets all the way around him. He murmurs groggily as you press a soft kiss to his forehead and then he’s out, chest moving slowly up and down, face peaceful.

You’d never know, you think.

You retrieve his glasses from the bathroom floor, fold them neatly on the bedside table. And then, steeling yourself, you slip through the bedroom door as quietly as you can, tiptoe down the hall. As you’d suspected, Saeran is still in the living room.

“Hey,” he says, lifting his eyes from the book he’s reading. He’s draped over the couch, white hair tousled. He’s turned on a lamp—the dim light illuminates the red roots that are just starting to grow in.

“Hi,” you say. For something to do, you fetch the cup of water you’d left on the floor earlier. Saeran doesn’t bat an eyelash.

“We had a fight,” he offers, unprompted. He drums his fingers on his book—the same nervous habit his brother has. “Did he tell you?”

“Um…sort of.” You put the cup on a side table. Nervously straighten one of the fluffy throw blankets.

“I was mean,” Saeran says bluntly. “I shouldn’t have been.”

You perch on the arm of the couch. Once, he would have flinched away from you; now, he watches you impassively, green eyes unreadable.

“Was it about the trial?” you ask, with some hesitation.

Saeran shrugs. “I guess. He keeps all the TVs in the house on all day. I can’t stand hearing our father’s voice anymore.”

“Right.” You know this—know that the ongoing trial is wearing on them both, know that they’re coping in their own ways.

“Is he…” Saeran looks down and back up at you; his eyes are bright. “Is he mad?”

You take a shaky breath. “No,” you say honestly. “But he feels bad that you fought.”

“Should I talk to him?”

He is still looking at you. You’re surprised—he’s never asked you for advice before.

“Maybe in the morning,” you say, perhaps a little too firmly—but Saeran is unfazed.

“I get it,” he says. “I’m gonna go back to reading now.”

You smile, grateful as always for Saeran’s manner. There’s no risk of overstaying your welcome, because he’ll always tell you when he’s done.

“Good night,” you say. He looks up at you again, gives you a tiny smile.

“Night.”

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

You wake abruptly the next morning. Through the haze of half-dream, half-wakefulness, you hear an intrusive rustling sound—then clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Your eyes shoot open.

“Saeyoung…?” you murmur, the events of the previous night momentarily evading you. You blink the sleep out of your eyes, see a blur of red hair in your peripheral vision.

He’s…cleaning?

“Oh god.” His golden eyes go huge with panic as he sees that you’re awake. He drops the mop (why was it clunking?) and throws himself onto the bed, kneeling beside you. “Hi. Good morning. Um. I am. So, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry. I mean, I—uh. Gah. I practiced this. Hang on—”

“Shhh.” You put a finger to his lips, pushing yourself up in bed. He sits back on his heels like a guilty puppy, eyes huge, waiting for a scolding. “So you remember last night, huh?”

His cheeks match his hair. He lowers his gaze.

“I am so, so, so, so…”

“Hush.” You take his face in both hands again, just as you’d done the night before. Tilt it up, forcing him to meet your eyes. “You don’t need to apologize to me. But I would like to know how it happened.”

He hangs his head, one red curl falling into his eyes. You brush it away.

“I don’t know,” he mutters. “You know I’ve never done that before. Right?”

“Yes, I know.” You slip out of the blankets and sit cross-legged, facing him. “Do you remember why you did it? Why you went looking for the whiskey that I didn’t even think you knew was in the storage closet?”

“I’d known where it was for a while,” he says softly, shamefully. “I found it one day when I was looking for an old hard drive and I guess I thought, wow, glad I know that’s there in case I ever lose my mind.”

This surprises you. You didn’t know he’d ever give it any thought at all.

“I wasn’t seriously thinking I was gonna drink it!” he says hurriedly, his cheeks growing—if it were possible—redder. “It was like a…weird, bad joke. Like, haha, what a great way to escape my mind if I ever hate myself that much. I…dunno.”

You make yourself take a deep breath. You hate it when he says things like this. “Okay, fine. So why did you…?”

“I fought with Saeran,” he says, still looking down. He twiddles his hands in his lap, fiddles with the blanket. “It was stupid. We were just tense about the trial. And then he left, and it got dark, and I was alone, and I just couldn’t…stop thinking about her.”

“Your mother.”

“Yeah.”

He taps a pattern on his thigh, too fast, too hard. You take his hand, wrapping up his fingers in yours. He shoots you a grateful glance.

“It’s hard to explain,” he mutters. “It was like I was possessed. It was this feeling, like if I could…get inside her head somehow, I’d understand.”

“Understand what?” You realize you’re squeezing his hand too hard and you make a conscious effort to loosen your grip.

“Why she didn’t love us,” he says simply. You look up; there are tears in his eyes again. Automatically you reach for him, catching a tear on your fingertip. You kiss it away.

“Did you?” you ask quietly. Slowly, he shakes his head.

“I don’t think I ever will.”

“Oh, Saeyoung…” You hold open your arms for him and he bows his head, falling into you. You cradle his head against your chest, kiss the tears from his eyelashes.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers.

“You are a wonderful man, and you deserve the world,” you say firmly. You wrap your arms all the way around his waist and squeeze him tight and he exhales, like he’s letting out breath he’s been holding for a long time.

“I’ll never do it again,” he says, his voice muffled by your shirt. “I promise. I mean it.”

You thoughtfully run your fingers through his curls, de-tangling them, pulling them apart one by one. “Can I ask you something I’ve asked you before?” you say tentatively. He nods; you can feel it. “Would it be okay if I just…got some names? My therapist offered to make a list for you before, you know, and you don’t need to commit to anything, but I just—”

“Yes.” He pulls back enough to peer up at you. There are tear tracks on his cheeks again but his expression is sure. “I’d like that.”

His eagerness takes you by surprise. You smile and kiss the tip of his nose.

“Thank you.”

He leans his forehead against yours. “I’m meant to be the one thanking you. You shouldn’t have had to take care of me last night. You should’ve just left me there.”

“Never.” You take a deep breath and he breathes with you, exhaling against your lips, tickling you. “Now would you please explain to me what the hell you were doing that woke me up this morning?”

He giggles, a little guiltily—still, you’re relieved to hear him laugh. “I felt like crap, both physically and emotionally. I thought I could start apologizing by…”

“Slamming the mop against the wall?”

“I don’t…actually know how to use a mop.”

That makes you laugh, and it feels good, like a release. You wrap your arms around his neck and he sighs against you.

“You’re gonna be okay?” you whisper. He nods, gazing at you reverently.

“Because of you,” he says. He strokes your hair with his long, thin fingers—cautiously, gently, like he needs reassurance that you’re still there. “I’m gonna be okay.”

#mystic messenger #mysticmessenger #saeyoung choi #707 #cw drinking #cw alcohol abuse

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angellissy · 4 years

Text

the stars that lit up the sky

Based on this lovely request> Would you do another Cameron sibling one with rage and Sarah? I really loved the first one!

Thank you!! Means the world and I am so sorry it took so long.

Rafe Cameron x Sister Reader

AN> Sorry for my lack of writing but I will try to get more fics up. I am graduating tomorrow so hopefully, my first two weeks of summer will be spent writing outer banks fics for you guys. Shoutout to my bestie Ellie, who helped me come up with a concept and who also just exists. I love u @myjjbaby . Enjoy!

Tossing and turning, seemed to be the only thing you had been doing for the past hours. The white linen sheets always seemed to find a way to tangle themselves with your limbs, making sleeping impossible. The sun had gone down hours ago, bringing all the sound that usually echoed throughout the house, with it. The clock ticking on your wall served as a constant reminder of the hours of sleep you lost. Unintentionally causing your breath to quicken, the fear of never falling asleep had always been a factor of stress. You were unsure why, but it always lingered in your mind. Sometimes making it even harder for your mind to relax and escape into another world, which usually caused you to stay in this one.

As a child your mind would be restless, you could lay awake for hours. Your eyes would often be looking at your ceiling, at the bright yellow stars that your older brother had glued there. Using the stars, he had created yours and his zodiac sign. The two of you were not only bound together by blood, but also by the same stars. So when the sun went down, the stars lit up and gathered your attention for the next hours. It helped calm your mind and whenever your older brother opened the door to your room and peeked inside, you would be laying still, holding a teddy bear close to your chest.

And as a child, those illuminating stars would be enough to lull you to sleep. But when you had reached a certain age, your dad had them removed, arguing that stars were for children and that you no longer, in his opinion, were a child. So the stars disappeared, ending in up in some charity box that your dad gave to the less fortunate. From that day on, you had to find new strategies. One included not sleeping at all, and as you got older another one meant partying all night to avoid having to deal with trying to fall asleep.

Tonight it looked like you would be choosing the first option, so you sat up, pushing the countless blankets off your exhausted body. When your father removed the stars from the ceiling, your brother desperately tried to come up with a new idea that would lull you to sleep. His solution was to build something similar to a bed on your windowsill, making it possible for you to watch the stars once again, though this time they were real and sometimes covered by clouds. So that was where you went whenever your brain failed to relax. You brought one blanket with you as you climbed up on the windowsill. No stars were in view tonight, the only thing that lit up the sky was the white moon. But still, it was not as bright as it usually was. Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if your mood was reflected in the weather, it always seemed to be that way at least.

You furrowed your brows when you saw two shadows reflected on the ground beneath you, the porch light was giving them away. With quick finger movements, you pushed the window open, making it possible for you to lean out. The beats of your heart quickened as the adrenaline rushed through your veins. What if it was a burglar? Or one of Rafe’s peculiar friends? Nevertheless, you would probably not dare do anything about it, but maybe if you did your dad would finally give you some credit. Or even better, maybe your older brother would start paying more attention to you than those bags of white dust in his pockets. You leaned further out, this time the sound of hushed voices reached your ears.

“How are we supposed to get inside?” The only thing you could make up was that it was the voice of a female. It did sound pretty familiar, and you understood why when the second person opened their mouth.

“Well Sarah if you weren’t such an idiot and dropped the keys, we would’ve been fine.” That was the sometimes infuriating voice of your older brother, there was no doubt about it. You would have known that voice anywhere. When you were younger it was his voice that guided you away from the sadness that engulfed you whenever your father yelled at you, blaming him for mistakes that weren’t even yours. It was also his voice that managed to say something that would draw out a big laugh from you.

“Can you‐” Sarah sighed, breathing in and out. “Can you keep it down?” You heard Rafe mutter something in response and decided that it was your turn to shine since you also were their only way inside.

“You need some help or something?” They jumped at the sound of your voice, seemingly startled. Rafe was holding one of his hands against his chest, trying to calm his heartbeat into a normal rhythm. Meanwhile, Sarah was looking relieved by the sight of your face, as she also knew that you were their savior. Hoping to freak them out a little more you hopped down from the window on the floor without a word, quickly making your way down to the front door. As quietly as you could, you unlocked it and opened it, letting in both of your older siblings. Both reeking of alcohol and other substances, but you were used to it. Particularly the way the smell of alcohol had intertwined with Rafe’s perfume, it seemed to never leave. Always a lingering smell, no matter how hard he tried to hide it on those days when being intoxicated was not socially acceptable.

“Thank you very much.” Sarah gave you a small hug and a kiss on the cheek before dashing up to her bedroom, most likely to talk to that boy she just met. As soon as she was gone it was just you and Rafe. The sibling that constantly seemed to avoid you, always coming up with excuses not to hang out. His hand flew up to his hair, scratching it ever so lightly. You coughed a little, unsure of what to do.

“Yeah well uh‐” His eyes darted between you and the staircase behind your body “I should probably head up, but thanks.” He was about to walk past you when you stepped in front of him, blocking his way and making him look at you through furrowed brows.

“Why do you not wanna hang out with me anymore?” He gulped and backed a few steps away from you. “Um, come with me.” He turned around and walked towards the kitchen, even though you were confused you followed him. Not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to hang out with your older brother. He gestured for you to sit down on a barstool, and you did, watching him as he started to get things out from the refrigerator.

“What are you doing?” He gave you a small smile as he shrugged his shoulders. “ Well, I suppose you were too young to remember this.” He paused while he turned on the stove and placed a frying pan on it. “When you were younger and were upset with me or Sarah you would make us or the nanny make you a grilled cheese, it was the only way for us to be able to talk to you.”

Your lips parted slightly as you dug inside of your mind, trying to find this specific memory. “I don’t remember that.” You mumbled, feeling slightly ashamed that such a sweet memory could have disappeared. He nodded, stumbling a bit as he turned around to put the sandwiches in the pan. “So that’s what you are doing now then?” He gave you a small smile and nodded.

“Never been very good with expressing stuff.” You snorted and he furrowed his brows at you, but his smile did not falter. After a couple of minutes, he put the grilled cheese on a platter and served it to you. You took a bite, the taste instantly melted in your mouth, it was so good that you could have cried. You put it down and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before asking him once again, why he had been avoiding you.

He rested his head in his hands, looking down at the countertop. “I am supposed to be your big brother, a role model of some sort. But I am not exactly suited for that role anymore.” A bitter laugh escaped his lips and you swallowed hard, surprised that he was actually telling the truth and not some half-hearted lie.

“But I don’t need you to be a role model Rafe, I just need you to be my brother.” You paused, searching his eyes for some reaction, but he still looked down, making it very difficult. “You are going through some shit but that’s exactly the time when you shouldn’t push me away, just let me be your little sister again. And let me help you.” He looked up, a small smile on his lips as he walked around the kitchen isle just to wrap his arms around you.

“I don’t need your help, but I’ll try to regain the best big brother title you gave me as kids.” You nodded against his chest, that promise would be enough for now. As long as you got your best friend back.

“Care to tell me why you were still up at this hour?” He said when he let go. A small sigh escaped your lips “Couldn’t sleep.” He nodded, then gestured for you to follow him once again. This time you ended up in his room, you had not stepped foot in here for ages and you felt like neither had he since he looked a bit confused. After a bit of thought, he opened the door to his clothes, walked inside and asked you to follow.

“Turn the off the lights.” You did as he asked and the second you did, the room became illuminated by a different kind of light. The on that had adorned your childhood bedroom for several years.

“You kept the stars.” You whispered, astonished over the fact that he had done that and that he never told you.

“Yeah, I didn’t want dad to know so I kept them here, I should have told you sooner.” You brushed him off with a little wave, your eyes were still glued to the ceiling. You moved closer to his side and let him pull you into his chest, both of you were starving for hugs. The two kids that barely received any from your parents, that was why it was so important that you two were on the same side. If you were, you could dismiss the cold gazes and angry remarks from your father, together. So side by side you watched the stars, and side by side the two of you helped each other survive.

#rafe cameron #rafe #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #sarah cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines

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brokutosan · 4 years

Text

Title. Burnt Out, Part Two

Pairing. Suna Rintaro x Fem!Reader

Summary. In which he’s intoxicated and opens up about things he never got the chance to. Part two of Burnt Out, Suna Rintaro’s point of view.

Warnings. Excessive intake of alcohol, cursing, and manga spoilers.

Suna Rintaro started dating his long-term girlfriend L/N Y/N in highschool. She was the type who kept to herself and had a small, yet golden, circle of friends. She got along well with his volleyball team because she had a great personality, and she went along with teasing their friend Miya Atsumu.

He met her when he was in preschool and he made her cry because he accidentally took her chuupet. His mom made him apologize and they bonded over a whole pack his mom bought for them to share. A few years later, he realized he liked her in his last year of middle school, when he got upset over losing his last competition with the team and she was there to cheer him up with a pack of chuupet.

He admits he’s not one for romantic gestures, but his feelings for her were always sincere. Growing up, Suna lacked the energy nor the personality to make much friends, so he was always relieved knowing she was there. They grew up together, and that’s something Suna would never replace. He associates his childhood with her and their love for chuupets.

Throughout their relationship he tried his best to show he appreciated her. Though what he liked best about her was that he didn’t need to try. He always assumed she knew and she understood his actions. After joining a pro team he got a bit busier, but he assumed she would understand.

“Quit assuming Y/N-chan’s gonna stick around for your shit. Sure, she’s always been the best of us for understanding your...detachment to everyone else, but she ain’t a saint. Get ‘yer shit together or she might just finally up and leave.” Atsumu once told him, but Suna tries not to dwell in anything the piss haired dumbass tells him. But what he said was true.

Which is why Suna decided to gamble. He told his teammates and the twins that if he won the next three consecutive games and the team placed top three in the league, he’d finally propose. Osamu told him not to gamble with life, his teammates told him not to blame them if they lose, and Atsumu rejoiced and called him brilliant. Suna’s not sure how he feels about their response, but he’s willing to risk it. Because it’s for her.

After the third win Suna went with his team to celebrate, mostly because he was in a good mood and because he was nervous yet excited at the same time. But then she called.

What if she found the ring he loosely hid in his sock drawer? What if she thinks it’s for someone else? Oh god, what if she thinks he’s cheating on her? What if-

“Actually-” “By the way-”

He lets her go first because he cares like that. But suddenly he wishes he didn’t.

“I don’t think we’re in love anymore.” Oh. With that one sentence all the pride and joy brimming up his body is flushed down by sorrow and dread. Color drains from his face and he feels like he’d stopped breathing. Suddenly all those “what-ifs” didn’t sound so bad anymore.

“I’ll pack my bags while you’re at work tomorrow.” Suna ends the call there because he’s scared she might hear his life crashing down through the phone. Still a bit shocked, Suna lets his body slide down the dingy alleyway. No tears fall because he’s not an emotional person like that, but the turmoil in his head makes him itch for a distraction.

He hears the loud cheers of his teammates inside the bar and finds the perfect solution.

“Rintaro-kun, get ahold of yourself!” Komori Motoya whisper-yells at his intoxicated teammate. Said intoxicated teammate is currently stumbling over his own two feet as he tries to walk in a straight line with one arm slung over Komori’s shoulders.

Komori mumbles a few strings of curses as he drags the man to the elevator. “Why did you even drink this much?” He asks no one in particular, mainly because the man in question was too busy laughing at his own reflection in the elevator mirror.

Komori remembers that MSBY has an away game, which probably means they’re all together in a hotel or probably running late with practice, and decides to call Sakusa for help. Much needed help, as he hears another groan from Suna. If he pukes - no, he won’t even think about it. Shaking his head, Komori pulls out his phone and dials a number. It rings four times, before his cousin’s cranky voice mumbles out, “Hello?”

“Sakusa! Is Miya still around?” Komori urgently grunts out, simultaneously hoisting up his teammate who’s currently being dragged down by gravity and alcohol. “What could you possibly need from that moron?” He can imagine the scowl on his cousin’s face, but he decides to focus on more important matters.

Like the idiot now hanging loosely on his shoulders. Suna’s a bit taller, so Komori has to drag his feet through the floor with one arm and keep his phone pressed to his ear with one hand. “Tell him it’s about Rintaro-kun.” There’s rustling and the sound of the phone being handed off to someone else, and then Atsumu’s croaking out a, “What-,” obvious that he was awoken from his sleep.

Komori’s not in the right state of mind to feel any remorse, so he gets to the point. “Miya, do you know Rintaro-kun’s girlfriend’s number?”

“Why?” Atsumu grumbles, still half asleep. The sound of a boisterous laughter through the phone snaps him awake, though, as he recognizes the familiar sound. “Holy shit!” He shoots up, sheets strewn on the floor. Sakusa looks like he’s about to commit a crime.

“Komori, listen - whatever he does, make sure you get it on camera!” (Komori hears Sakusa mumble, “You’re a shitty person,” and Atsumu bark back with a, “Shut ‘yer trap, Omi-kun!”) Choosing to ignore his idiocy, Komori urges on, “Do you know her number or not?”

“I mean yeah, but if ‘Taro’s that drunk then I’m pretty there’s problems with Y/N-chan.” Komori feels a vein pop, both because Suna’s weight is really starting to push down on his shoulders, and because Atsumu’s proving himself to be pretty useless in this situation.

“I don’t care anymore! Can you just text me her number so I can drop this idiot off?” Komori huffs. Atsumu hums and hangs up, seconds later texting him Y/N’s number. He hands Sakusa (who’s now unsurprisingly wearing gloves) back his phone and plops back down to his comfy hotel room bed, remembering to check on his friend the next morning.

Komori finally makes it to the address sent to him by Suna’s girlfriend after about thirty minutes of dragging the said man through crowds and avoiding the judgemental looks from people passing by.

He wastes no time in pressing the doorbell before he’s met face to face with the girlfriend-in-question. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she looks about as bad as Suna does, though a lot more sober. Miya was right. He thinks to himself. Relationship problems, huh?

“Ah, thank you for bringing him home safely, Komori-san!” She bows. Her voice is strangled and hoarsed, but the politeness is still there. “I’m so sorry for bothering you, I can take him from here.” Y/N holds out her arms, and perhaps because of how heartbroken she looks, Komori gently shakes his head.

“I can set him down on the couch. He’s not exactly lightweight, you see.” She simply nods, not having enough energy to go back and forth over the matter. “Thank you so much.” She says with another bow. Once Suna’s bodyweight is off his shoulders and he can feel his full body again, Komori waves his hand to show that it was no big deal.

He silently hopes he’s not overstepping, before mumbling on his way out, “I hope you two work it out.” She responds with a weak smile and another bow before locking the door behind him.

Finally alone again, Y/N steps towards her now-ex boyfriend, and decides to help him feel more comfortable by removing his shoes. Suna complies by grumbling something that can’t be understood, so Y/N continues with cleaning him up.

“Sit up real quick, ‘Taro.” She whispers. Suna obeys and sits up with his eyes still closed. His movement releases a whiff of beer and his usual cologne. Y/N has to hold her breath because of the pungent scent, but she continues to care for him with gentle hands.

Suna opens his eyes and though everything is still blurry, he could easily recognize her anywhere. He grabs hold of one of wrist that was busy yanking off his coat from his body and pulls her closer to him. She slightly falls down on where he’s seated on the couch, but she catches herself before she could completely crash down on him.

“Hi.” Suna mumbles into her neck.

“Hey. Let’s get you into some more comfortable clothes, ‘Taro.” Y/N tries to pry herself off him, but his hold on her tightens and now she finds herself engulfed into his chest with two strong arms wrapping around her frame. “Don’t wanna. Just wanna stay here.”

“Okay.” Y/N decides there’s point arguing with an intoxicated man and allows herself to melt into his hold.

But then she remembers their conversation from earlier, and her cruel decision of breaking it off without an explanation. Guilt overwhelms her and soon she attempts to pry herself off again, and this time she’s successful. Suna whines.

“Come back.” His voice is an unfamiliar pitch higher and he’s making grabby motions at her with his arms. “Try to sober up a little first, okay?” Y/N calms him down before heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

It only took ten seconds for Suna to follow suit, albeit still drunk and wobbly, but he is able to hold himself up until he grabs hold of her from behind, her warmth heating up his frozen body once again. “Don’t leave me.” Y/N’s not sure if he means now, or in general. Does he even remember their phone call?

Nontheless, he isn’t in his right mind, and Y/N doesn’t want to say anything that might cause him to react wildly. “Okay, let’s sit down though, yeah?” Suna nods, and his hair tickles the back of her neck. They awkwardly shuffle through the kitchen back to the couch, where Suna continues to snuggle into her chest. Y/N finds herself combing her hand through his tangled hair, somehow finding comfort in this rare display of affection.

They stay like that for a couple minutes, Y/N sitting awkwardly down on the couch and Suna’s overgrown body slumped over hers as he clings onto her waist for dear life. Y/N decides not to beat around the bush and tries to clear the elephant in the room.

“Did this happen because of what I said?” It’s a stupid question, and Y/N knows the answer to it, but she doesn’t know why she needs to hear it coming from him. Suna only nods, not once breaking away from his hold on her.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Y/N offers. Maybe, if he’s being this uncharacteristically clingy right now, then he’d be more comfortable with opening up.

“Don’t leave me.” Suna mumbles again, this time Y/N can feel the desperation in his voice.

“I won’t. Not right now, at least. But we need to talk about it.” Y/N’s hand is still combing through his dark locks, and for a second she thinks he fell asleep because of it, but he speaks up again.

“If I ignore it will you take back what you said?” Suna tries to bargain. Y/N lets herself laugh, though it comes out choked because of how dry her throat was from crying. The sound however, makes Suna lift his head up from its place on her chest, his chin resting just above her breasts as he stares straight into her eyes.

“I’m being serious right now.” Everything about him is delirious, but his eyes scream that she should listen to what he’s about to say.

“I don’t know what changed, but I’m sorry if it’s because of something I did.” Y/N can easily tell that he’s just starting to sober up, but not enough for him to totally pull away or stop talking yet. “It was because of something Atsumu said,” She finds herself confessing. Perhaps she hasn’t totally sobered up from the bottle of wine she finished a few hours ago.

“That bastard.”

“- back in highschool.” Suna shows no remose towards what he said. Highschool school or now, Atsumu is still Atsumu, and he said what he said.

“When you guys fought over who’s fault it was when you lost a game, he told me I was dating a rock.” Suna tilts his head in confusion (and Y/N tries not to make it too obvious that she’s getting ticklish every time he moves). “A rock?” He grumbles with a scowl on his face. (He totally looks like an angry puppy right now, but Y/N decides that this isn’t the right time to gush over it).

“And then I got a wedding invitation from Mika and Daishou-kun. I drank a little too much too, so my thoughts just spiraled down negatively.” Y/N sighs as she relives the emotional turmoil she went through that evening. “I let my emotions and something Atsumu said years ago get the best of me, and I really hurt you. I’m sorry, ‘Taro.” Y/N doesn’t notice the tears streaming down her face as she cups his face in her hands. Suna leans into her touch and hums.

“I think I can understand what Atsumu said, though.” Suna mumbles out. He gets up from his comfortable spot, and Y/N feels herself missing his warmth right away.

And then he heads into the bedroom, much more sober now, and Y/N stares at him him out of curiosity. He comes back out within seconds with something in his hand and sets it down on the coffee table as he sits back down next to her. Y/N gasps.

“I told myself that I was gonna do this after winning three consecutive games. I think I was gonna do it even if we didn’t, though.” Y/N switches her gaze between her lover and the velvet box that contained a ring.

The ring itself was simple, yet elegant. There’s a single big diamond sitting in the middle of a silver band, and its beauty makes up for its simplicity. The ring is true to Suna’s character, though she suspects some of his friends had a say in picking the ring (there’s no way Suna would have been able to decide on it himself).

“This wasn’t how I planned for it to go down, but I feel like if I don’t do it now, I might not get another chance.” There’s a certain sincerity in his eyes and desperation in his voice that makes Y/N’s heart ache, both out of happiness and guilt for what she did earlier that night.

“I know I’m not gonna be the best husband - hell, I wasn’t even close to being the best boyfriend - but what I do know for sure is that there’s no one else I’d want to be with other than you.” Suna grabs the box from the table and gets down on one knee in front of the couch, where she’s still seated with tears streaming down her face.

“I promise I’ll try my best to open up more. I won’t let you get bothered by something that idiot said in highschool again, and I’ll make sure you’ll never have to question my love again.” Suna finishes with a smile, “So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

Y/N doesn’t trust her voice so she chooses to nod vigorously instead, launching herself into his welcoming arms. He falls back from the impact but his hold on her is still tight. Everything is in place again, and the figurative fire between them sparks again. If they tried hard enough, even a burnt out match can still be relit.

“Wanna mess around and pretend we broke up because of what Atsumu said?”

A/N. Also another re-uplod. Thank you for reading! You can tell I was pushing my ‘komori is team mom’ agenda bc I love my boy. Anyways, sorry if the ending got a bit cheesy but I don’t really know how to write it without making it cheesy - chuu

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq oneshot #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #suna rintarou #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintaro scenario #suna rintaro oneshot #suna rintaro x reader

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gaaruto-kage · 4 years

Text

Bad Ideas - Kakashi x Reader

I hope that you don't think I'm rude

But I want to make out with you

And I'm a little awkward, sure

But I could touch my face to yours, oh

For the fourth time in the same amount of days, you found yourself ducking behind the nearest object as quick as you could in order to hide from someone. Not just anyone, though, you were hiding from the one and only Kakashi Hatake. You squeezed further into the doorway as Kakashi walked past your not-so-great hiding place hoping the long evening shadows would keep him from noticing you. Luckily he didn’t seem to, so you let out a long sigh of relief as you watched him round a corner further up the street. This couldn’t go on forever, you thought to yourself. Kakashi and you would end up working together again at some point, as was the nature of your jobs, and beyond that he was your friend, so this awkwardness you felt around him had to stop as soon as possible.

And no one ever called me smooth

But I just wanna see the grooves

Between your hands, your teeth, oh

Tell me, do you think about me?

You could not get the words Kakashi whispered to you the other day out of your head. It had been a long day of training with your respective teams so the two of you, along with Kurenai, Asuma, and Guy, decided to unwind a bit with some ramen and sake. It started off normal enough, with the five of you talking about your day, laughing when Guy challenged Kakashi to three different competitions, each one more ridiculous than the last, with nothing out of the ordinary happening. One by one your friends all left until it was just you and Kakashi left. He had drunk a bit more than usual, so you took it upon yourself to make sure he got home okay, not to say you didn’t think he could handle anything that could possibly happen ever if he was drunk. Regardless, the two of you walked towards his home together continuing the conversation from the ramen shop, words only dying out once you made it to his front door.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow Kakashi. Hopefully you don’t have too bad of a hangover in the morning,” you said. You moved to turn away, but immediately his hand shot out to grab your arm and stop you from leaving.

“Wait, Y/N, don’t go yet,” Kakashi said, his words slurring together just the slightest bit. You turned back to face him and were about to ask why he wanted you to stay, but before you could, you were suddenly wrapped up in his arms in a very un-Kakashi bear hug.

“Kakashi, what- what are you doing?” you stuttered out, confused. He mumbled something into your neck, the movement tickling you. “I can’t understand what you’re saying,” you said through a giggle. He pulled away so you could see his face, but still held you in his arms. The intensity of his eyes looking into yours made you shudder.

“You’re so beautiful, can I kiss you?” he repeated in a whisper. You tried to respond but it took you a few tries before any actual words came out.

“Kakashi, I- you’re drunk, you don’t mean that.”

“I may be drunk, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re beautiful right now. I’ve always thought you were beautiful, and you’ve only grown more so each day that I’ve known you.” He paused for a moment just looking at you, then opened his mouth as if he were going to say something else, but no words came out. You turned away from him to try and hide the blush that had creeped its way across your face. His grip tightened around your wrist in an attempt to keep you from leaving, but you panicked and ran down the road, not knowing what else you could or should do in this unexpected situation.

I just wanna kiss you

And even if I miss you

At least I'll know what it's like to have held your hand, oh

After your near-run in with Kakashi, you walked home, shoulders slumped and feeling dejected. Why did he have to go and say those things? Sure you thought Kakashi was handsome, but your mind never wandered further than that before. Now it took all you had to stop thinking about what would feel like for him to kiss you, your hands tangled up in his wild hair while his held onto your waist. You knew it could never happen because there was a chance it could ruin your friendship and your working relationship, and you could not put your personal feelings above your duty to the village. Despite this, you let yourself indulge in these daydreams more often than you probably should. More than once you found yourself thinking about his mouth on yours when you had more important things going on.

Bad ideas

I know where they lead

But I got too many to sleep

And I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

And if tomorrow makes me low

Well it'd be worth it just to know

'Cause I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

After staring at the wall for what seemed like ages, you groaned and sat up in bed to take a look at the clock. It read 2:14am. For hours you just tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, and you still had so much more of the night to go. You cursed the man whose silver hair and mismatched eyes you saw every time you closed your eyes. If he was going to occupy your mind at night, the least he could do is be in your dreams, rather than keeping you awake. You rolled over and pulled your pillow over your head as if that could block out the incessant thoughts, subconsciously leaving enough room for another person to fit in bed with you. You didn’t know how long it took, but eventually you fell asleep, though not quickly enough to get enough rest for the next day.

I don't know what compels me

To do the very thing that fells me

I wake up, still high on you

But by the night, I'm crashing through, so

You woke up to a summons from the Hokage to meet with her in her office, so you quickly got dressed and headed over to the Hokage Residence, running into Asuma and Kurenai on the way. They had recieved summons as well. When you all arrived Tsunade was sitting at her desk and to your surprise, Kakashi and Guy were standing in front of the desk. Guy seemed to be saying something to Kakashi, but the second you walked through the door it became apparent that Kakashi had stopped listening to him. He seemed as if he was going to take a step towards you but hesitated and instead turned to face Tsunade. The rest of you lined up to face her as well.

“Thank you all for getting here so quickly; I know my message came on very short notice,” Tsunade began. “I have a mission for some of you, and whoever does not go on this mission I would like to take over training of the others’ teams for the duration. Several shinobi from the Village Hidden in the Rocks have been seen camping just outside of our borders and while they haven’t done anything in the way of attacking our village yet, they also have not come to talk to me and that just doesn’t sit right. I would like some reconnaissance done to figure out what is going on. Kakashi and Guy have already volunteered to help me out with this, so Asuma, Kurenai, Y/N, which of you would like to join them and which would like to take on a few extra students for a little while?”

Asuma and Kurenai looked at each other without speaking, and before you could think about it you broke the silence yourself.

“I’ll help Kakashi and Guy with the reconnaissance.” As soon as the words slipped out you mentally berated yourself. You had been trying to keep away from Kakashi, why would you volunteer to go on a mission with him where the only other person you could interact with for who knows how long would be Guy? And the mission, you shouldn’t have jeopardized that when you know you’d be distracted the whole time. But it was too late, you already volunteered your services and now you had to deal with the consequences. Tsunade nodded at you.

“Thank you Y/N. Kurenai and Asuma, you can decide between the two of you which students you’ll each be teaching for the time being. As for the three of you, I trust you to come up with and execute your own plan for gaining information on our guests and that you will tell me anything you think I need to know.” With that you were all dismissed from the Hokage’s office.

Kurenai and Asuma walked down the hall, presumably to discuss their new temporary students, leaving the three of you on your own. You definitely did not want to be around Kakashi for any extended period of time, but at least Guy was there to act as a sort of buffer. If something was off between you and Kakashi, which it definitely was considering you refused to even look in his general direction or address him directly, Guy certainly was not picking up on it. Even so, the three of you managed to come up with a decent plan for your mission, which involved having a sort of home base at your home because it was right on the border of the village near where the mysterious Rock Village shinobi had set up their camp. You all agreed that Guy and Kakashi would gather anything they might need and meet you at your home later in the day.

Why I'd wanna kiss you

Even though I miss you

Guess I just want to know what it would feel like, oh

The second you got back to your apartment, you began pacing. Why, why, why would you put yourself in literally the most uncomfortable situation you could think of, given your current circumstances? This lasted for several minutes, before you realized you had your own things to get together and deal with before your partners on this mission arrived. You managed to lose yourself in thoughts of the mission ahead, so much so that you didn’t realize how quickly time was passing until there was a sharp knock on your door. Please be Guy, please be Guy, please be Guy, you thought to yourself as you walked over to open the door and - it was Kakashi. Of course. You mumbled something not even coherent to yourself and moved aside to let him in. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him, so instead you just faced the closed door as you heard him put his stuff down somewhere behind you.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said, not a hint of questioning in his voice.

“No, I-” you began. You realized lying to him now would be pointless, so you sighed and turned around, but still didn’t look at him. Instead you stared at the floor. “Yes,” you admitted.

You looked up at Kakashi. He was standing in the doorway to your kitchen, leaning against the door frame. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes. You both paused waiting for the other one to say something. He broke the silence first.

“What have I done wrong? What did I do to make you hate me so much that you’ve been avoiding me for nearly a week?” The hint of pain in his voice made you immediately feel like shit. You knew Kakashi wasn’t one to let onto his emotions that often, so you knew you really must have hurt him with the way you’ve been acting. You quickly shook your head, taking a step closer to him but not wanting to get too near.

“No, you’ve got this all wrong. I don’t hate you, Kakashi,” you assured. “I just- do you remember the other day when we all went out drinking and I walked you home?” He nodded. “Do you remember what you said to me when we got to your house?” This time he shook his head.

“I mean, I remember us talking, and then you ran away pretty fast, but I don’t really remember the specifics of the conversation. That’s why I thought you hated me, because I said something that upset you. I’ve been beating myself up these past few days, thinking I’ve ruined our friendship somehow,” he admitted. “So, what did I say to you to make you run away and avoid me?” You didn’t know how to respond, but luckily you were saved by one Might Guy suddenly bursting through the door.

“You two didn’t start the spying party without me, did you?” he joked, making you giggle. You silently thanked him for relieving some of the tension, even though you knew that you and Kakashi would have to deal with this unfinished business sooner or later.

The three of you went over your plan again and then set out to get into the positions you had planned on for watching the Rock Village shinobi. There were three vantage points on different sides of their camp that were far enough away that unless one of them was specifically looking for you or had a special jutsu that allowed them to detect where you were you wouldn’t be seen, but they were also close enough that if something went wrong you could make it to the camp or to one of your partners quickly. Thus began a long day of watching literally nothing happen, as the shinobi just seemed to be chilling out in their camp.

Bad ideas

I know where they lead

But I got too many to sleep

And I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

And if tomorrow makes me low

Well it'd be worth it just to know

'Cause I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

That night, well after the sun had set, you and Kakashi returned to your home, with Guy staying behind to hold down the fort overnight. He had napped during the day while you two kept watch, so he insisted he was fine to keep going. You didn’t bother to argue because you were tired and a little worried about the fact that the shinobi had done nothing worth noting all day. Were they still planning some sort of attack on the village? Did they already have a plan and were now just waiting for the perfect time to strike? Either way, you knew you wouldn’t be in shape for any fighting if you didn’t get a good night’s sleep, and though you offered to sleep in the field in case anything happened, Guy assured both you and Kakashi that you would be close enough to help should he need you for anything. So that was how you ended up alone with Kakashi once again. Without a word, he took a spare blanket out of your closet and started rolling it out on the floor.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you asked.

“I’m setting up a place for me to sleep. I figured it would be fine using this blanket, but I’m sorry I should have asked,” he responded. He sat down on the blanket as if to get comfortable, but didn’t yet lie back.

“You can sleep in my bed, if you’d like to. I don’t want you to sleep on the hard floor if you don’t have to.” You felt bad for him after mistreating him all week, the last thing you wanted to do was make him physically uncomfortable on top of the emotional stuff.

“If I sleep in your bed, then where would you go?” he questioned. He cocked his one visible eyebrow in a gesture that showed he already knew the answer before you gave it.

“Well, I’d sleep on the floor, I guess.” He shook his head.

“I’m not gonna let you sacrifice your comfort for my own, Y/N.” You hesitated before responding.

“Well, we could always both sleep in my bed,” you said meekly. He gave an incredulous look, so you hurried to explain your reasoning. “The bed is big enough for the both of us to be in it without feeling crammed, you know. And that way neither of us will be in pain in the morning from sleeping on the floor.” You were certain he wouldn’t accept your offer, so you were shocked when he stood up and moved the blanket that was on the floor over to on your bed.

“That makes sense to me. Thank you, Y/N.”

The two of you finished getting ready for bed in silence before climbing into opposite sides of the bed. You were practically hanging off the side of it for fear that you would accidentally bump your body into Kakashi’s.

“So, is there any chance you’re willing to talk about why you’ve been avoiding me now that we’re alone?” he asked. You took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Kakashi. I can’t. I will soon, I promise. Just, not right now.” He let out a sigh and you could tell he was disappointed, but he didn’t push the matter any further. Soon you could hear a gentle snoring sound that meant he had fallen asleep, but the thoughts swirling around your head kept you awake and staring at the ceiling for a few more hours before you finally drifted off to sleep.

Smitten's a bad look on me

And if I'm talking honestly

It takes everything I got not to text, and

I just want a kiss to get me through

'Cause now all my bed-sheets smell like you, so

You woke up to your back pressed up against something and a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Naturally, you screamed. This made Kakashi, the owner of the arms wrapped around you and the thing your back was pressed against (his chest), instantly wake up and fall off the bed in shock. Your hands instantly went to your mouth as you gasped.

“Well, good morning to you too,” he grumbled as he picked himself up off of the floor.

“Kakashi, I’m so sorry, I woke up and you being there scared me!” you explained.

“Y/N, you’re the one who invited me to sleep in your bed, why would me being there scare you?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head where he hit it against your bed on the way down.

“Well yeah I know, I just didn’t expect you to be spooning me!” At that, his face turned red as a beet.

“Spooning? What do you mean I was spooning you?”

“I mean I woke up with you cuddled up behind me with your arms around me, what else would I mean?” you answered, exasperated. This was not how you planned on starting the morning.

“I… was not aware I was doing that, I’m sorry. Um, I’m gonna go grab something for breakfast,” Kakashi said before all but running out of the room. Not thirty seconds later he called for you to come out there.

That was how you came to find Might Guy sleeping on the floor of your kitchen with six tied up and possibly unconscious or else just unmoving Rock Village shinobi. Kakashi nudged Guy with his foot, making him immediately jump to his feet into a fighting stance.

“Ha! Oh, you two. Have a good night’s sleep?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Guy, what happened? Why are these shinobi on my kitchen floor?” you questioned.

“Right! Well, shortly after you left last night they all started moving around their camp, which I thought was weird because we had seen them all go to bed hours earlier and it was also very late. Once I saw them gathering quite a lot of weapons and strapping them to their persons, I knew something shady was going on. There were only six of them, so I figured I would be fine fighting them on my own, so I didn’t bother going to get you guys. Once I took care of them, I brought them back here. Don’t worry though, I left a note at the Hokage Residence to let everyone know what was going on and to tell them where they can find these six. I expect someone should be around shortly to pick them up,” he explained with the utmost confidence, as if what had transpired was the most normal thing in the world to happen.

“Okay,” Kakashi said. “Okay, well Guy, why don’t you stay here and wait for them. Y/N, do you want to go for a walk? Clearly we’re not needed here.”

“Yes, let’s go,” you agreed. You got dressed and ready for the day as quick as you could, and as you and Kakashi left out your front door, Guy called out a farewell.

“See you later you two! Have fun!” he said with his signature grin and a wink. Maybe he did realize something was up.

If you think you miss me

Come on back and kiss me

I just gotta know what you and I would feel like, oh no, hey

You and Kakashi walked around town, occasionally exchanging words but for the most part you were just walking in silence. You stopped at a stand to get some fresh fruit for breakfast and then continued your directionless wandering. Eventually you ended up in a part of the woods that many team leaders, you and Kakashi included, took your teams to for training. There were three logs sticking vertically out of the ground, and Kakashi jumped up to sit on top of one. He gestured for you to come closer, so you joined him by sitting on another of the logs.

“So, are we going to talk now?” he asked. You looked away into the distance, steeling yourself to face the truth before facing him.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” you answered. “The other day when I walked you home, it isn’t just what you said to me, it’s how you said it and what you did while you were saying it. It was just a really weird experience and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”

“Y/N, really, if I did anything to offend you, then I apologize a thousand times. Can you please just tell me what I said and did since I don’t remember?” he pleaded.

“Okay, well, it started off when I tried to leave and you kind of just grabbed my arm to keep me from going. You basically pulled me around in order to hug me which caught me so off guard. Then, you called me beautiful and said you wanted to kiss me. I was so shocked that I ran, but ever since then I haven’t been able to get the thought of us actually kissing out of my mind. I mean, it’s gotten to the point where I’m losing sleep over it and it’s starting to drive me crazy.” You started speaking so quickly to just get the words out that by the time you got to the end of it you didn’t know what you were saying. It took you a second to realize what you just admitted.

Yikes

Kakashi laughed. He laughed! Here you were, spilling your most mortifying secret to the one person that secret actually affects, and he was laughing at you!

“Is that all?” he asked.

“What do you mean is that all?” you practically yelled. “This has been tormenting me for a week!” He just chuckled again.

“You should have just talked to me about it and I would have cleared it up. I really do think you’re beautiful. It wasn’t just me saying things while drunk, although I do wish the first time I told you was when I was sober. I’d been thinking about it - thinking about you - a lot lately, so I guess drunk me just got impatient and let the cat out of the bag.”

You didn’t know how to react, so you looked down at your feet and said the one thing you could think of. “Oh.”

“Do you mean that though? You’ve been thinking about kissing me?” he asked, sounding a lot more timid than he was before.

“I mean… yeah. A handsome man tells me that he thinks I’m beautiful and he wants to kiss me, why wouldn’t I think about that?” you scoffed as if it were obvious. He reached over and grabbed your hand, causing you to look up at him. He was leaning closer to you than he had been before.

“In that case, Y/N, I am completely sober and I think you are insanely beautiful. Can I please kiss you?” he whispered, as if speaking any louder would ruin the moment.

“Yes,” you whispered back. You reached up to pull down his mask before your lips met in a tender, sweet kiss, the first of many.

Bad ideas

I know where they lead

But I got too many to sleep

And I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

And if tomorrow makes me low

Well it'd be worth it just to know

'Cause I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

________________________________________________________________

This is the first fanfic I’ve written in about a year and a half. After listening to Tessa Violet’s album non-stop I just felt really inspired, and so this happened. It feels really good to write something for myself instead of for school.

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto reader insert #kakashi reader insert #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #reader insert #bad ideas #tessa violet #song fic

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rosyrosethings · 4 years

Text

Y/n Harrys assistant and she moves in with Harry.

Y/n arrived to work as an assistant for Harry. He runs one of the number one bank companies in the world. But today she was stressed. She moved to London with her boyfriend from America and she caught her boyfriend in bed with another woman. She has no place to go so last night she slept in her crappy car and went to the next morning looking horrible.

“Hello Y/n you’re late today,” Harry said as she walked into his office.

“I’m sorry sir. Had a long night.” She said as she sat her desk in the corner of his huge office. Harry looked over at her and sighed. Y/n had been his assistant for a while now maybe 9 months going on a year.

“Is everything okay?” He asked Y/n couldn’t take it. She started to cry. Harry has always been an amazing boss. She hasn’t cried her since it happened. Harry immediately frowned and walked over to her desk. She put her hands over her eyes.

“Hey hey hey, what happened? Was it that asshole boyfriend of yours? I swear I can hire someone to beat his ass right now.” He said as rubbed her back standing beside her.

“Yea.. he cheated on me last night. So I left the house.” She sobbed.

“So where did you sleep?” He asked as he knelt down and turned her chair to face him. “In my car.” She sobbed hands still covering her face. He grabbed her hands and pulled them down and placed them in her lap his hands still holding to hers.

“Well your car is pretty shitty so I know you didn’t sleep well. Okay, how about this? You reschedule all my meetings for today. Can you do that for me?” He said looking up at her. She nodded and sniffled.

“Why?” She mumbled

“Just do that for me. Make sure I have a clear schedule. “ she sniffled and nodded. He stood up and walked over to his desk. He knew she didn’t sleep well in her car. She has a shitty car. It’s a two-seater and it’s old as fuck. But he pretty sure he pays her enough to get a hotel.

“Hey Y/n Why didn’t you get a hotel?” He asked she sighed.

“Well umm so Chris lost his job... so I had to take care of all the bills and we have joint accounts and he brought himself a brand new car with all our money...” she said avoiding eye contact with Harry. She knew he’d be angry at her. Harry always told her about how her boyfriend was an asshole.

“Y/n why were you even with that asshole?.” he asked, she shrugged.

“Your schedule is free... I sent emails to everyone letting them know you’d be out of the office for the day.” She mumbled He walked over to the door.

“C’mon we are leaving.” She got up and walk behind him.

“Where are we going? I just got here.” She said as they walked to the elevator.

“Don’t worry about that. Just trust me okay?” She nodded and wasn’t going to argue with her boss. They both made it to the parking garage. Walking over to Harry’s car.

“Harry I can’t leave my car here.” He laughed. “No one is going to steal your car. Trust me they don’t want it.” He said while opening the door for her to enter. She scrunched her nose up at Harry’s response. “People want my car actually.” She argued as she sat in the front passenger seat

“Sure they do.”

Harry took y/n to his home. Once they arrived at his home. She laid on the couch and was out. Harry didn't even get the chance to make her food. She was tired. She could barely sleep in her car it was uncomfortable. Harry didn't want to interrupt her do he laid a cover over her body and placed a pillow under her head and he watched her sleep peacefully. He thought maybe she could stay here with him. It wasn’t like she was a stranger and he needs his assistant a lot more than just to work things. He was tired of being alone.

Y/n jumped up out of her sleep looking around startled causing Harry to chuckle.

“Calm down love it’s just me and you.”

“sorry id be out your hair as soon as possible.”

”How about you move in?”

”what?”

“Move in here with me. I don’t want you going back to that house and besides you can work for me 24.7 plus free rent plus pay. You’re own room you can have the guest bedroom and bathroom. My days off are you and you can do whatever you want.” He said quickly like he was trying to sell his home to her. Y/n thought this was too good to be true. He already was an amazing boss now he’s asking for her to stay with him. Rent-free

“Harry are you sure?”

“Yes, as long as you don’t go back to that asshole you can stay here.”

“Deal!”

Ever since Harry and Y/n have been living together peacefully. They've been living together for about 3 weeks now and Y/n started to develop feelings or him. He always made dinner and breakfast for both of them because he says she sucks at cooking. He would talk to her about his work problems and how stress work made them but never about how he feels. He had problems talking about his emotions towards her. They always came out the opposite so he didn’t say anything but once she fell asleep on his shoulder while typing memo for office while Harry was typing up other stuff. He loved it he didn’t move her he just sat there happy that they actually touch.

Since Y/n is really awkward she would always apologize for touching Harry even though she wasn’t sorry. Whenever she bumped into him or touch him even though she wanted to touch him. She would always say sorry.

Today was different but was a normal day for y/n. Harry had left for a dinner meeting. Which meant hot businesswomen who are hot for Harry invite him for dinner to discuss “business.” Y/n knows all they want is him. They don’t care about his business but she couldn’t control Harry. But whenever when Harry was gone she’d go in his room and put on one of his huge button-up T-shirt. They were so comfortable she couldn’t help. They were so soft like Egyptian cotton. So she tiptoed to Harry’s room for the shirt and quickly ran to her room. She put on the shirt nothing underneath but her panties with only a few buttons Did up on the shirt showing her thighs and cleavage the pastel yellow shirt made her skin glow. She skipped down the stairs to get her ice cream. She grabbed her spoon and ice cream out the fridge eating the ice cream right out of the tub. She walked out of the kitchen on her way to her room but she was stopped by Harry and the lady who was really pretty.

Harry stood their shock as the half-naked girl in his shirt just came out of the kitchen. Shocked that she was in his shirt and shocked how amazing she looks in his shirt. He bit his lip but his thoughts were interrupted by Bridget.

“Harry who is this?” Bridget questioned, Y/n stood there with a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and holding the ice cream in the other hand.

“Umm, this is my assistant Y/n I was telling you about. She’s the one you talked to on the phone.” Y/n quickly took the spoonful ice cream out her mouth and placed the spoon in the other hand. “Hi, Bridget I’m Y/n, so sorry that you had to meet me like this.” She said as she shook Bridget's hand.

“Ohh it’s fine. Harry told me you live here I should've expected you were his girlfriend.” Y/n laughed at her response.

”Actually I'm not his girlfriend but my ex-boyfriend-..” she said but she looked over at Harry and he was giving her a look like a shut up. “Ya know what I’m gonna go upstairs before I say something that’s gonna make me lose my job. Bye Bridget.” She said as she quickly ran upstairs the back of the shirt barely covering her ass. Harry watched her ass until it disappeared in the hallway.

“She’s a delight,” Bridget said with a slight chuckle. Harry smiled at the idiot that he called his assistant. “She is.”

“But let’s get back to talking business. If people shop at your coffee shop they get 5% cashback on the credit card. ” Harry said as she followed him to his home office Harry sat in the big chair and she sat in the chair on the other side of the desk. Harry started to pull out the paperwork to seal the deal. She started to take off her coat. She stood up her high heels walking across the hardwood floor. She sat on the side of the desk.

“We’ve been talking business all day Harry. How about we wine down?” She said putting her fingers through his hair. Harry sighed and took her hand off his head. He was so tired of this happening all he wanted to just have a successful business meeting without getting hit on.

“Hey Bridget, you’re a beautiful woman and all but-.”

“You wanna take things slow? Huh? Okay, two can play that game. We love a gentleman.” She said as she took a pen and signed the paperwork quickly. She turned away.

“How about tomorrow night dinner me and you at 6 same places.” She said as she grabbed her coat.

“Umm.”

“It wasn’t a question.” She said with a smirk as she put on her coat. “I’d show myself out.” With that last remark, she was gone. She left out the office to the front door and left.

“Y/n!” Harry yelled. He heard her bare feet against the wood floor. She peaked her head in the room. He noticed she didn’t seem too far away which means she wasn’t in her room. Which means she was being nosy

“Hmm?”

“C‘mere,” he said as he gestured his two fingers for her to come she came into his office still in his button-up shirt.

“Firstly were you listening in our conversation?”

“Pshhh no.” He knew she was lying.

“When is my date?” He asked quickly.

“Tomorrow at 6.” She bit her lip knowing she was a horrible liar. But she walked over to his desk and hopped up on the side of the desk he was sitting at “But I put it in your schedule now you have a set reminder and I made you hair appointment tomorrow so you can look super nice.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” He questing leaning back in his chair looking up at her.

“Nothing honey just needs a touch up you know you’re handsome.” He chuckled and looked up and down.

“So how often do you wear my clothes while you’re gone?”

“Hmm, every time you’re gone. I only wear this one though. I’d stop if you want me to tho. It’s just really comfortable.”

“You can keep it, it looks better on you anyway.” He said with a smirk. She hopped up

“If you think this looks good. You should see me naked.” She mumbled walking alway.

“What was that?” He asked wanting her to say it louder.

“Nothing Mr. Styles.” She said quickly running away.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut

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abbythemewtwo · 3 years

Text

Based on a weird dream with @night-gladion-and-their-ghosts ‘s peeps

She had her body pressed close to the window as she tried to focus on the world outside moving quickly before her eyes. At her other side of the booth seat, Silvally sat, straight and in reach of Abby’s paw so she could keep petting the fluff on his neck. He was enjoying the attention, even if it was caused by social anxiety. Across from them sat Gladion, checking messages on his phone while leaning his elbows on the table in the middle of them.

Abby tilted her head back towards the aisle of the train, glancing at the people in their booths sitting and....staring. She quickly looked back to the window with a long sigh.

“Hey.”

She looked over at Gladion as he looked up from his phone. “Relax. They’re not going to do anything to you. They just never seen a Pokémon like you and Silvally before.”

“...I know they haven’t.” She bluntly replied. “And when oddities are out, people talk.” Gladion knew what she meant. He put his phone away so she had his full attention.

“He’s gone, Abby. He hadn’t done anything in years, and he won’t because he’s gone...they’re all gone.” He tried to reassure the clone. It’s true, she had not heard anything about Team Rocket activity, or of Giovanni. She had even looked into sleuthing through old bank accounts and pseudo names Giovanni used for business, and found everything erased or cleaned out. There was no trace left.

That didn’t ever stop her from worrying being out in the public eye. She was sure he wasn’t completely gone. Until she saw him die in front of her, she will never let her guard down.

“Besides, you need to get out. You’re either cooped up in your lab or in Cynthia’s. You haven’t stepped outside since you woke up.” Gladion was all for hermiting, but he knew she was a wild Pokémon at heart and needed to go outside. “Besides, Night and Cynthia agree you need to start feeling more comfortable round strangers. Not that I care...but in a way....I guess they’re right. Only because I know you want to go to the battle bot arena one day, and you’d have to deal with people there. Be somewhat sociable.”

“And your solution is a train ride to the middle of nowhere,” Abby drawled. Gladion shrugged.

“Figured after trying this you’ll want to be away from everyone as much as possible for a bit to ...like....recharge.” She knew what he meant by that; her social battery would be drained and isolation would be needed. But he thought of getting some fresh air in the mix instead of her retreating to the underground lab.

But this didn’t seem like a totally Gladion type of idea.

“Night put you up to this.” She deduced as the snack cart came by and put down a cup of honey tea for Abby and a coffee for Gladion. Gladion shrugged before taking a sip of coffee.

“Maybe. But if I’m going to have to go outside in the world, so do you.” Abby shook her head with a sigh, then lifted her cup.

“Gee, don’t I feel loved.”

Then from inside her cup came a reply, “Well, duh.”

Abby paused before putting the cup to her lips and instead pulled the cup back to look into it. Floating in the hot liquid was a tiny dragon ghost that always seemed to somehow know when she needed to drink something. Even though she was supposedly miles away from him.

She put the cup down while making a face before shoving it across the table to Gladion. The boy raised a brow at Abby before glancing into the tea to see what suddenly made Abby disgusted. “Wow, really?” Gladion said Into the cup.

“What? I thought I’d tag along for the fun!” Giratina stated as he wormed his way out of the cup and flopped onto the table like a larva.

“What about Night?”

“He’s a big boy. I don’t need to be on him 24-7.” He shook some tea off him before floating up to perch on Gladion’s shoulder. “Besides, I like spending time with our favorite clone~”

Abby grabbed her cup, half standing in her seat with a look of utter annoyance as she was poised to toss the liquid at Giratina. Gladion tensed and threw his arms up. “Wait, don’t! I don’t wanna get wet!” He said loud enough to make other travelers stare at the scene.

Gladion and Abby both noticed that right away and sat deep in their seats and tried to avoid looking at the other passengers. Giratina giggled. Abby tried to hide herself against Silvally the best she could.

“This is gonna be great.” Giratina chirped. Abby shot a tiny slap of psychic at Giratina to smack him against the headrest of Gladion’s seat. “Ow! Worth it...” he muttered as he slid down it.

——————

The tent was set up as Abby was laying on the cool evening grass, listening to the cracking of the fire as Gladion was setting up the sleeping bags inside. They just had dinner, some crazy curry that was popular in this region, told a few campfire stories and gossiped....it was relaxing. Abby was so relaxed just breathing in the damp air, smelling the oncoming rain that would hit when they went to bed. Even Giratina, being ever so annoying, wasn’t able to ruin it as he was laying across her stomach without asking. She just let him as she watched the clouds slowly cover the twinkling stars.

“...I like this a lot.” She muttered as Gladion came over to the lazing pokemon. Slally has already wiggled into the tent to find a good spot to lay down.

“If you want, we can try to fish a bit tomorrow if you really want the full camping experience,” Gladion told her as he nudged the lump of a ghost dragon with his foot. Giratina grunted before rolling into a ball and flopping down the grass. “I’ve never fished before though, just to warn you.”

“I’ll teach you, then. Wel, I can teach you the way without poles and bare handed, anyway.” Abby looked up to see the raised brow from Gladion. “...It’s fun.”

“Whatever you say.” He shrugged with a slight shake of his head. “Come on, let’s get in before it rains.” Abby got up as Gladion went into the tent first. As she went in, she went to the bigger sleeping bag on the left side. Silvally had a large pet bed between her and Gladion and was already asleep on it. As Gladion and Abby we’re getting adjusted, Giratina rolled into the tent.

“Hey, where’s my bed?” He grumbled.

“You weren’t invited, remember?” Gladion huffed as he rolled onto his side and turned off the little lamp that lit the tent up. “You can just Shafow sneek home if you don’t like it.”

“I can find room.” As Abby was closing her eyes, she felt her head lift up and rest on something that was breathing. Giratina curled into Abby, slightly shoving Silvally more into Gladion in the process. Silvally gave a tired bark then readjusted himself to go back to sleep. “Ah. Much better.”

Abby would have thrown him out if they were at home, but she was sleepy, and it was going to get cold so unfortunately having a warm pillow that also was a scarf was in her best interest to have right now. She sighed and closed her eyes again, b before she drifted off to sleep she muttered to Giratina; “Stay out of my dreams tonight or I’ll drown you in the morning.”

“Aw, fine, but you’ll have some weird dreams come Wednesday ~” he practically sung. Abby lazily hit the top of his head with the back of her hand before dozing off to sleep.

#night gladion and their ghosts #a short story #Gladion #Giratina #camping story

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sourbkg · 4 years

Text

ｔｒｏｉｓ

ｆｉｃｎａｖｉｇａｔｉｏｎ

ｗｏｒｄｃｏｕｎｔ: ２４５０

ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: ｃｕｒｓｉｎｇ

The day continued without a hitch, Mina coming over as promised and explaining everything you wanted to know about the daycare and then some, along with letting you know she wouldn’t be his teacher, but would be a classroom away if anything were to go awry. She also lets you know that due to her ties with you, Kiro could start as soon as possible. Meaning tomorrow. Meaning your plan to go job hunting could go on. She left after a few hours, but not without you pestering her about her favorite dishes. You were hellbent on keeping your promise, especially since her and Kirishima have been so helpful despite not knowing you.

Dinner came and went, and soon you were tucking Kiro in bed. He gave you a sleepy ‘goodnight’ that you returned before his door was shut and you were left to clean up any remaining messes, followed by getting another thirty minutes of unpacking done. After that, you decided it was time to sleep.

Sleep didn’t last as long as you would have liked. The sound of music brought you out of it. With a glance at your phone, you were made aware that it was only 3:16 in the morning. Who in their right mind would be up this late? Well-- early? You got up, despite the protests your brain gave, and pulled on a jacket. Peeking into Kiro’s room told you he was still asleep, thankfully, but not for long if the music continued to ring through the house. You pulled on some shoes and went out the door, immediately realising where the music was coming from.

Bakugou’s house.

The windows were open. You could tell due to flashes of light breaking through the curtains, and you could hear the sound of a videogame between pauses of the music. With a huff, you walked across the yard.

You knocked three times and made a face. There’s no way they’d hear you over all the noise. After a moment, you raise your fist to knock again, only for the door to be swung and you’re met with a red glare. You bring your fist down.

He gives you a look, eyebrows raised and you can hear what he’s saying without his mouth opening. What do you want?

You open your mouth to reply, only to be distracted by yelling coming from the house. With a glance past him, you see red and pink hair you’ve come to know, along with yellow-blonde and black all surrounding a TV, playing what you think is Mario Kart. Bakugou snaps in your face, bringing you out of your daze.

You blink.

“Sorry.” Your mouth is drier than you remember, but you push on, “do you guys mind keeping it down a little? I can hear you from inside my house and Kiro might wake up and he gets cranky--”

He scoffs at your rambling, which causes you to stop, eyebrow raised.

“Why should we care?” He asks, arms crossing over his chest as he leans against the doorframe, eyeing you up and down. You pull your jacket tighter around you.

“I’d just rather not have to deal with a crabby five-year-old and the easiest way to avoid that is by you guys quieting down. Please.” You add.

He seems amused for a moment, it dying in his throat the second he speaks, “I get you don’t want to deal with a shitty kid, but again, why should we care?”

Your surprise must amuse him even more, because he lets out a snicker.

“Shitty? He isn’t shitty, and you can take that opinion of him and shove it up your--”

Kirishima pops up behind Bakugou, clapping a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, “Hey, (l/n)! What’re you doing up so late? Or… early, I guess.” He laughs.

You look from Bakugou to him, scowl forming on your lips, “I just came over to ask if you guys could quiet down a little. Kiro gets irritable if he doesn’t get enough sleep…”

There’s a pause, and for a moment you think he might agree with Bakugou. Instead, he shoots you a smile and nods his head, shaking the blonde’s shoulder slightly, “Yeah, of course! So sorry if we woke you up, too, we’re not really used to Bakugou having someone so close by. We’ll do better.”

He gives you a wink and a wave before he’s turning around and telling his other friends to turn the TV and music down, while pulling closed the windows. Bakugou scoffs at how easily he complies, pushing himself up from the doorframe.

“Have a nice night.” He says, giving you a tightlipped smile, then closing the door a little too harshly to be considered nice. You scoff to yourself, walking back over to your own house and locking the door when you’re inside. You remove your shoes with your back turned and almost shriek when something tugs on the hem of your jacket. Whipping around, you’re met with the tired eyes of your brother, who looks like he might pass out on the spot.

“Why’re you up?” You ask, picking him up. He lays his head on your shoulder, mumbling his reply.

“Thought you left. Got scared.”

You rub his back, “I’d never leave you for long.”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” His question is quiet, but you hear it clearly in the silent house. You nod.

“Yeah. Just tonight, though. Don’t wanna make it a habit.” He yawns, offering no other reply as you settle him down in your bed before you lay down yourself.

———

You wake up a few hours later to the sound of your alarm, not the sound of a bike revving. Kiro’s curled against you with the blanket pulled to his chin, drool seeping out the corner of his mouth. You smile and get up as quietly as possible, doing your morning routine and eating a bowl of Kiro’s sugary cereal. Kiro’s up a little bit later, and you make him his own bowl, then push him to the bathroom and help him with his morning routine.

The two of you get dressed soon after, making yourself a little more presentable than usual. You are going to be applying for jobs, after all. First impressions and all that.

When you and Kiro are leaving, the black haired boy and blonde you’d had yet to meet were leaving Bakugou’s house, giving you a wave as they went. Bakugou was under a car today, instead of the motorcycle. You could barely see him from his position, the only telling feature being long legs sticking out from the front.

Kirishima takes notice of you before you do him, calling out, “Mina’s already at work! Be sure to give her my love!”

There’s a clank from the blonde working under him and a curse, followed by Bakugou rolling himself from under the car to send his friend a glare. It doesn’t last on Kirishima long, red eyes following his gaze only to settle on you with a scowl. You give a friendly wave that isn’t returned and put Kiro in his carseat.

After buckling him in, you’re climbing in the front seat and starting the car, giving Kirishima and co (it’s really just Bakugou) one final wave goodbye before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards the daycare they way Mina explained.

Take a left down the street, then a right at the stop sign. Keep going until you’re past Sato’s Bakery, and take a left at the very next light. You’ll see the mall, and right beside it is the building. There’s signs near the mall’s parking lot that direct you where to go from there.

She was good at giving directions, you learned, and the daycare was no more than fifteen minutes from your house. You sat in your car for a few minutes, nervously chewing at your lip. This would be the first time Kiro’s ever really… been away from you. Especially in a school-like setting. With other kids his age. But, you’d have to push through. You can’t teach him your whole life, and he won’t get the right social skills being around just you all day (plus, you’re sure you won't be able to work while also maintaining a five-year old-- you’d dote on him too much).

“Why’re we here?” Kiro asks, already attempting to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“This is a daycare,” you start to explain, “they’re gonna watch you for a few hours while I go out job hunting, and I’ll probably bring you here a few days a week while I work.”

He made a face as you turned off the car and got out to properly unbuckle him, lifting him out of the seat and grabbing a bag you had packed and the paperwork you needed. Mina insisted on you bringing a change of clothes in case an ‘accident’ happened. She also let you know she may have sorta fibbed about her relationship with you-- the fib being you were her relative, a close cousin of sorts, and that’s why they’re allowing him in so early.

“Why can’t I stay with you?” He mumbled, hand gripping your fingers as you walked across the parking lot.

“I don’t think my job’ll allow that.” You squeezed his hand assuringly and gave him a smile, “You remember Mina?” A nod. “She’ll be a room or so down from you. If anything happens, you tell your teacher to tell Mina and she’ll call me A-S-A-P.”

“What does that mean?”

“As soon as possible. That sound good to you?” He seemed to weigh his options for a moment, but the doors were getting too close for him to back down. You gave him an offer, “we can have ice cream after I get you today.”

“Deal.”

Hook. Line. Sinker.

You held the door open for him and smiled at the woman behind the desk. “How can I help you?”

“I’m Mina’s cousin.” You explained quickly, passing her the papers, “this is my little brother.”

“Right! She told us about you yesterday. I’m Nejire Hado, I work here in the office.” She peeks over the desk to get a look at Kiro, who hides behind your legs, “we’ll just need you to sign a couple things in person and we can get you going to his class.” She gives him a small wave that he returns meekly.

You spend the next thirty minutes filling out papers of basic information while Nejire gets to know you without prying too much. You’re glad she doesn’t really ask about you and Mina. Soon, you’re being led past the office doors and further into the building, Nejire explaining things like what time breakfast, lunch, and snack time is and that the latest you can be there to pick Kiro up is 6:00, on the dot. You’re stopped at a door with music notes taped all over, kid’s faces put over the bases. Kiro hides even further behind you, hands gripping your shirt like when you were first being introduced to Bakugou.

Nejire walks in without knocking, peeking her head around the corner before throwing a smile behind her to the two of you and walking in further. Sitting in a circle are about eleven kids, a woman about your age with purple hair sitting between them and clapping along to ‘Wheels on the Bus’.

Her eyes flicker to the three of you and she sends a smile, the song finishing itself and she instructs the kids to stay put and clap along to whatever plays next before she’s standing moving to greet you. She offers her hand.

“Hi, I’m Jirou Kyoka, the teacher for the four and five year olds.” You shake her hand, then she moves to shake Kiro’s hand, who buries his face in your shirt.

“I’m (l/n) (y/n). This is Kiro.” You feel him glance around you to look at her.

She crouches down to his level and grins, “Have you ever been in a class with other students?” He shakes his head. She offers him her hand, “C’mon, we can introduce you to everyone, make some new friends, yeah?”

He looks to you, seeking assurance, and you give it with a small nod and smile, “I’ll be back in a couple hours. Then ice cream.”

The promise of ice cream gives him newfound courage, letting go of your shirt with less hesitance to take Jirou’s hand. You could cry. With a small tug, she’s pulling him towards the other students who look at him with raw curiosity. He glances to you one more time, and you give him a wave, before Nejire leads you out of the room.

With that, you’re back at the front desk and Nejire hands you a card. It has Kiro’s student number and a barcode, and she explains anyone who picks Kiro up will need it in order to sign him out. You stick it in your wallet behind your ID as you leave.

A few hours later, you’d gone to at least twelve places, asking if they were hiring and talking to managers. Most of the businesses were cafes or restaurants, and the majority explained they weren’t hiring at the moment, or had you fill out the application then and there, but were turned off by your schedule needing to be so specific.

Your last hope was an older looking diner in the downtown area of the city. It looked fairly busy, people and cars alike coming to and from the parking lot. You pull in and find a parking spot, before taking a deep breath and getting out. You could do this. When you walked in, there was an older man standing at a host stand while organizing something.

“How many?” he asks, not looking up.

“Oh, I’m not here to eat.I was wondering if you guys were hiring.”

He pauses, looking you up and down, “How early can you start?”

“As soon as you’d let me.”

He sets the papers down, rummaging through something else under the desk and hands you some papers, “Fill this out and bring it tomorrow. We can start training you after going over everything.”

You take the papers with surprise, not expecting to be... hired (if you could call it that?) so quickly.

“Thank you so much, what time should I come?”

“Eight.” He gives you a smile and offers his hand, “I’m Chihiro Nand, the owner.” You take his hand.

“(l/n) (y/n), I’ll be here at eight.”

“I’ll be waiting to see you.”

You leave with a pep in your step, excitement coursing through your veins. Life really seemed to be throwing you easy hits since your move. Maybe it really was for the better.

———————————

{𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓼} @mrsreina @cold-deep-water @pm4gal

#biker!bakugou #biker!au #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero acadamia #my hero acadamia x reader

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Four

***IMPORTANT: This was too long to put into one post apparently, so this is part 1 of this chapter, and the link for part 2 will be at the end of the chapter. Thank you and have good night/day***

Words: 5.8k

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, sexual situations

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“Damnit, bp is 183/111.” A nurse says after they get me on a gurney and she takes my blood pressure, twice. “Mrs. Sixx is your head or chest hurting, vision blurring?” She asks me and I nod my head, my eyes closed, still struggling to breathe, my skin beginning to get sticky with sweat.

“My head.” I tell her.

“Okay, I need you to keep your eyes open for me just for a little bit, so you can tell me if things start looking fuzzy, alright?”

I nod and she smiles reassuringly at me.

“Just stay as calm as possible and we’ll get your blood pressure under control.” She states, beforing looking at the nurse walking on the other side of the gurney. “I need an IV of Beta-blockers.” She tells her, and in what feels like seconds, she's scrubbing at the crook of my elbow with an alcohol pad, before I’m feeling the pinch of a needle sliding into my skin.

“Where’s Duff? The guy I came in here with?” I ask, trying to calm myself down, but I don’t think it’s working.

“He’s filling out some paperwork for you while the desk contacts your emergency contact to let them know the situation and then he will be right here with you as soon as we get you stable.” She informs me and I feel panic in my chest, as I try to sit up, only for them to gently push me back down. “Vivian, you are in a hypertensive crisis. You need to lay still and avoid getting yourself worked up even more.”

“My emergency contact is my husband and he is the last motherfucker I want to know about this!” I argue in between breaths. “Now tell the bitch at the front desk to leave him out of it or I will stroke out just to fucking spite you because I’ve got nothing to lose at this point!”

I sound pathetic, struggling to breathe, gasping out the words in the best scream I can muster, and she raises her brows at me.

They tried to stop Nikki from being contacted, but he was...well, they left a message to the machine at our house, which he ended up checking from his hotel room later that day.

They get my blood pressure down within a few minutes and keep me under watch for several hours, before my doctor finally decides it’s time to tell me what the hell happened, although with how many times I’ve heard the word “hypertension”, I’m assuming it’s not good.

“You had a transient ischemic attack, which, when you take the complicated sounding name away, is basically a ministroke.” He explains, and my eyes widen. “It’s not as major as a stroke, especially since this was caught before it could develop into something worse, but your brain was still not receiving the amount of oxygen needed in your blood because it’s pressure was way too high, but good news for you is that your brain isn’t showing signs of damage that can affect your mind like a stroke would. That being said, this does increase your risk of having a major stroke down the line. No one in your family has a history of stroke or high blood pressure, which typically suggests, more times than not, it is either something you took--medication, alcohol, drugs, etc. or it’s your environment. Is there anything you took, or drank, prior to experiencing your symptoms?”

“I took Nyquil...four doses worth in less than six hours.” I tell him and Duff looks at me, confused. “I couldn’t sleep.” I add.

“N-Nyquil?” Duff asks me, quietly, as if in disbelief. “You had a ministroke...because of an over the counter cold medicine?”

The doctor flips through my chart before pursing his lips.

“Are you still taking Nardil on a daily basis?” He asks me and I nod.

“Yes.”

“Okay, that’s where things went south.” He confirms. “There is a warning on the back of Nyquil syrup, stating that the way MAO Inhibitors, which is a class of antidepressant that phenelzine--Nardil--falls under, interact with the dextromethorphan HBr and the doxylamine succinate in Nyquil, has a high chance of causing hypertension--very high blood pressure-- which can really hurt the brain and the heart, and since you took eight tablespoons of it, it really is miraculous that you didn’t have a major stroke before you even got in the car to come here.” He adds and I feel shitty for being a complete dumbass. “I will give you a sheet of over the counter medicines to avoid before we get you checked out here in a couple hours.” He assures me before heading to the door of the tiny room.

“Thank you.” Duff says as he leaves, and he turns to look at me, trying to hide a smile. “Nyquil.” He states, raising his brows. “You can’t take Nyquil. Without--”

“--Shut up.” I state, trying not to start laughing because I could’ve really been in trouble.

“Oh, c’mon, Viv, you had me freaking out worried something horrible was wrong--which it was, really--but Nyquil?”

“I have seen idiots mix drugs with all types of mess and their bodies not even acknowledge it, but I take Nyquil…” I trail off, not being able to stop laughing. “...and it’s too much for me? Hell, at this point if I have one taste of a hard drug I’m just gonna croak over immediately.”

The two of us keep laughing for a couple minutes, until I’m sore in the stomach, and my watering eyes from laughter, are watering because the reality of everything that has happened to me in the past four three days, hits me.

Duff just sits on the tiny bed next to me, holding at my hand, wiping at my tears, giving me a big, encouraging smile.

“I love you.” I tell him and he nods, kissing my cheek.

“I love you, too.” He tells me. “This will blow over before you know it, Viv.”

Once I get checked out and we head back to Duff’s place, I quickly realize something I haven’t even thought about.

“Your album is coming out.” I say, looking at him and he glances at me, chuckling.

“Yeah.” He confirms. “In like, two days.”

“Holy shit.” I mumble. “I gotta take you guys out to dinner or something.” I rub my tired eyes and he shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s fine, Viv.”

“No, it’s not. This is a good time for you guys and I just came home all gloom and doom and shit all over it. I need to do something for you guys.” I explain.

“You’re not ‘gloom and doom’, you’re hurting. Which is normal for what you’ve been through, and being that we helped hide it from you, you don’t need to be worried about inconveniencing us. At all.” He argues.

“It’ll help me get my mind off of things.” I suggest.

“You don’t really need to get your mind off of it. You need to be processing everything and figuring out where you wanna go from here.” He politely tells me.

“I can’t go anywhere from here, Duff. Not until the tour’s over.” I laugh humorlessly and he furrows his brows.

“What?”

"Doc doesn't want us to split until the tour's over. Not that it should even matter. People don't give a damn about our marriage as much as Doc is convinced they are. It's not like the second fans hear we're filing for divorce they're gonna go on a strike over it." I roll my eyes.

"They won't care." Duff tells me.

"Exactly."

"...Do you want a divorce?" He asks next and I lick my lips.

"I don't know." I admit, tears coming to my eyes at the thought of it.

“Does he?”

“Duff, I don’t know, alright? We’ll just figure it out when the tour ends.”

“Vivian, that’s nearly a year from now.” He states.

“Well, then, I don’t fucking know! Okay?! I don’t fucking know!”

“I’m trying to get you to think about what you want to do because you’ll just end up putting it off and ignoring it like you do with all of your problems you’ve got with him.” He explains, keeping himself calm.

“I’ll deal with it later.”

“Viv--”

“--Duff. Please.” I give up, and he lets out a breath.

“I’m dropping it.” He mumbles.

After a few more minutes, he’s glancing at me again.

“We’re having a listening party for the album tomorrow night, by the way.” He tells me. “We’d really like for you to come, if you’re up for it.” He adds and a small smile comes to my lips.

“Yeah.” I nod.

“Yeah?” He asks, mimicking my smile.

“Yeah.”

The next day, I decide to go home and visit with Karen, trying to convince myself not to completely wreck the place the second I walk in.

She’s sitting on the couch with the TV playing in the background.

When I walk in, she looks up at me and gives me a soft smile.

“Hey.” She tells me, nervously, and I roll my jaw and look around.

I never noticed how many fucking pictures Nikki and I have up together from our wedding.

“Doc told me to keep an eye out for you, I was kinda worried when you didn’t come home.” She adds.

“I was staying with Duff.” I tell her, and she still tries to keep her smile on her face.

“Oh, um, you’ve got some mail, and Doc called and wanted you to call him back, and I’m sorry I wasn’t here when the hospital called. I just checked the messages late last night but Doc said Nikki had already heard the one the receptionist in the ER left.” She tells me and I let out a sigh.

“Great, something else to hear Doc bitch me out about.” I grumble, stepping to the phone in the kitchen, seeing the mail on the counter next to it.

I see she scribbled down the hotel phone number that they’re at now, and Doc’s hotel room number, on a paper pad and I punch the number in and request it to be put through to Doc.

Before I can get a breath out, I’m hearing all of it.

“Are you fucking out of your mind, Vivian? ‘Bless their hearts’?! I told you repeatedly what to tell the press and you don’t listen to a word of it?! And then you go home and end up in the fucking emergeny room?! What, did ya try to kill yourself or something, what the hell happened?!”

I raise my brows and blink a few times.

“I wasn’t paying attention to the warning label of some Nyquil and I took some to sleep, and it didn’t react well with my antidepressant. I’m alive, I’m fine, I wasn’t trying to kill myself, and would you rather me have said, ‘Vanity and Nikki fucked me over and everyone who was supposed to have my back, let them’?”

I hear his heavy breath exhaling on the other end of the line.

“Alright, Viv, alright. Just don’t say anything else to the press, please. The journalist at Rolling Stone is gonna be here in a couple of days, just please, please, please, be on your best behaviour. I’ve already talked to Nikki and he’s agreed to play nice, please, do so too.” He begs.

I didn’t want to “play nice” but I decided to so I wouldn’t make things harder for everybody, including myself, but just being blatantly hateful.

“Fine, Doc.” I agree and he sighs out in relief.

“Thank you, Viv.” He tells me and I roll my eyes.

“Yep.” I reply before hanging the phone up.

When I pick up the pile of mail, an envelope falls to the floor and I reach down to pick it up, seeing it’s addressed to me, from Playboy Enterprises.

I furrow my brows and open the envelope, grabbing at the paper inside and unfolding it before I read it.

“Dude.” I say to myself, furrowing my brows.

Someone had seen me half naked, demonstrating my flexibility, in the “Girls, Girls, Girls” video and a cover shoot for Playboy and a 12 page pictorial was on the table for $40,000, if I was up for it. Of course any other time I wouldn’t have thought twice...but this time, it was being considered.

“Forty-thousand?” Sharise asks me on the other end of the line later that day.

“Forty freaking thousand.” I reply.

“Who the hell wants to see you naked so bad?”

“I don’t know but I’m not mad at it.” I reply.

“Are you gonna do it?”

“I don’t know. Should I?”

“You just found out Nikki’s been cheating on you with one of your friends, Viv, I think you should take some time to think about it in case you make the decision to do it and then realize you shouldn’t have agreed to it, ya know?”

“I don’t have any money of my own, Sharise. If he leaves me, he’s not gonna leave me anything. I’m gonna be out of luck. I could use the money.” I explain. “And they didn’t say whether I had to be nude or not so I’ll look into the details and just go from there.”

“You are the absolute last person I would ever expect to take up an offer from Playboy.”

“Desperate times.” I shrug.

“More like, ‘what can I do to piss Nikki off’, times.” She points out.

“Vanity’s posed in Playboy before. Maybe he would've liked me enough not to cheat on me if I would've been more like her to begin with.” I sarcastically say, but there is a smile part of me that really feels that way.

"Don't compare yourself to her, Viv." She argues politely.

"I'm not." I lie, setting the letter from Playboy down.

I hear Skylar screaming and crying in the background and Sharise sighs out.

"I gotta go, Viv, I'll call you back later. Skylar just fell." She tells me.

"Alright, I'll come visit you guys before I leave." I assure her.

"Okay. We love you and we'll see you then."

"I love you, too, tell Sky I love her."

"I will."

"Bye."

I hang up and let out a soft breath, glancing at the number on the letter once again, rubbing my lips together before deciding to start getting ready to meet the guys for their album listening party before it drops.

For the first time in a few days, I look at myself in the mirror, taken back by how shitty I look.

The dark circles under my eyes are more prominent than usual, my eyes themselves look nearly dead, my hair is kinda nappy since I haven't brushed it in a couple days, and my mouth feels gross because I haven't bothered to brush my teeth.

I get in the shower, hoping it'll make me feel better.

The only thing it does is make me want to call Duff and tell him I can't make it tonight, but like I always do, I persist and finish getting ready, nearly fooling myself when I look in the mirror and make myself smile.

My doorbell is ringing within the next thirty minutes, and I'm spritzing on perfume as I hear Karen open the door to let the guys in.

I'm pulling my heels on, stepping into the living room.

"Hey." I greet Duff and Steven, and Steven's immediately hugging onto me.

"I'm sorry." He says, apologizing for the part he played in Nikki's bullshit.

I hug him back, not able to help but smile at how tightly he's hugging me.

"It's okay, Stevie." I tell him, genuinely.

He kisses my cheek and gives me one last tight squeeze before letting me go.

"Are we ready?" Duff asks me and I nod.

"Alright, we'll have her back home at a reasonable time." Steven tells Karen, and she chuckles.

"Stay out of trouble." She tells us as we head to the door.

"We will." I assure her as we head out the door to get in Duff's car.

All of their friends are there, everyone of them giving them wide smiles and big hugs as I hold onto Duff's hand as we weave through the crowd to the bar.

“Hi.” Slash says to me, sunglasses on, hat low, and I raise my brows at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep.” He replies, sipping from the Jack bottle in his hand, pulling out a cigarette.

“Can I have one?” Duff asks him.

“Yeah, if you’ve got a light.” Slash replies with a little grin and Duff pulls the lighter from his pocket and lights Slash’s cigarette before his own.

“You want a drink?” He asks me next and I look up at him.

“Water.” I tell him with a nod, suddenly feeling an arm slip over my shoulders.

It’s Izzy, and he looks like he’s been on cloud 9 for a little bit now, a loose smile on his lips as cigarette smoke flows from his mouth with his exhaled breath.

“Hey, you.” He tells me, and I lick my lips.

“Hey, asshole.” I shrug his arm off, remembering him yelling at me the other night.

“Ouch, am I on your shit list, too, now?” He asks me and I glance at him, making his smile widen, his eyes crinkling slightly. “I forget you’re sensitive, Viv.” He adds.

“Maybe me shoving my foot up your ass will remind you.” I state, Duff turning to hand me my water.

Izzy looks down at the clear liquid and frowns slightly.

“That’s why you’re sad.” He motions to it. “You need the strong stuff.”

I know what he means, but I try to play it off by saying, “what, sparkling water?”

“Izzy, man, she doesn’t drink.” Duff cuts in, lightly, but I know he’s being serious.

“Just making a suggestion.” Izzy shrugs, his eyes on a pretty blonde that passes. “I’ll be right back.”

He follows after her and I roll my eyes, taking a sip of water, as “Welcome to the Jungle” starts playing over the speakers.

Everyone starts cheering, all the guys stop what they’re doing, all of them sharing the same, proud smiles.

Once I’m done with my water, Duff, Slash, Izzy, Steven and Axl are all together, trying to gauge everyone’s reactions to their album so far.

Everyone seems to really like it.

“I’m gonna get another water.” I tell Duff, and he nods. “Do you need a refill?” I ask him, motioning to his cocktail.

“No, thanks though.” He tells me and I head to the bar, Izzy’s suggestion echoing in my mind as my eyes fall on the array of liquor bottles on display on the back wall shelf behind the bar.

My mind drifts to what would happen if I were to have a cocktail.

I step to the bar and order the last alcoholic drink I had, although accidental at the time.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m throwing back my shot of Tequila, nearly choking at the burn of it before feeling warmth radiate throughout my chest as it goes down.

Next thing I know, I’m seven shots in starting to feel less tense...even less tense when I try to walk and nearly faceplant, laughing instead of feeling embarrassed before walking as best as I can to the guys.

“Where’s your water?” Duff asks me, and I look at my hands, furrowing my brows.

“I don’t know.” I reply, honestly, and his brows raise and his eyes widen when he gets a whiff of my breath.

“Oh, shit, Viv, you smell like--”

“--Tequila!” I finish saying it in the way it’s said in “Tequila” by The Champs.

He’s stunned for a moment, and I’m trying to keep from looking him up and down.

“H-How much did you drink?” He asks me politely and I squint my eyes as I try to remember.

“I lost count after four.” I admit.

“Viv, I don’t think you’re supposed to be drinking with your medication.” He tells me.

“Doesn’t matter when the shit isn’t making me feel better anyway.” I reply without a thought, my speech starting to slur, my gaze focusing the best it can on the bottle in Slash's hand.

It reminds me of Nikki.

"I want Nikki." I say next and Duff can probably sense a storm coming, turning around and seeing the guys aren't paying attention.

"Hey, she's not feeling too good so I'm gonna take her home." He tells them. "I'll be back." He assures them.

"Alright, dude." Steven replies and Duff sits his drink down.

"Let's get outta here." He tells me, grabbing at my hand and leading me to his car, causing me to be sidetracked by the payphone.

"Gimme some change." I tell him.

"Viv, c'mon, you need to go home." He tries to guide me away but I refuse.

"I miss Nikki. I wanna talk to him."

"He's probably asleep right now, Viv. You can call him tomorrow." He suggests.

"He won't talk to me anyway. He hates me." I reply, stumbling to the passenger side of the car and he helps me stay balanced, opening the door for me and helping me get in before he shuts the door and walks around to the passenger seat.

It's a quiet drive home.

I miss Nikki.

He punches in the code of our gate and pulls into the driveway, helping me out.

I take my heels off and toss them down on the concrete, causing him to reach down and grab them for me as I clumsily make my way to the door.

"Here, here, I got it." He assures me when I try to open the door, singling out our house key from his car keys.

"I'm sorry for ruining your night." I tell him. "It was suppose to be a fun night--"

"--It was fun, Viv." He promises. "I'm going back anyway when I make sure you're settled here." He adds, opening the door. "I'll let Karen know what's up and--"

"Karen's out tonight, Duff." I cut him short, remembering that she told me earlier today about going out for one of her girl friends' birthdays, not able to keep my eyes off of him.

"Oh." He says. "Well, I can stay here until she comes back." He tells me. "I'll go ahead and get you some water." He heads to the kitchen, and a sick plan twists itself into my skull.

When he comes back with my water and hands it to me, I just sit it on the coffee table in the living room before turning to look at him.

"You need to drink that, Viv." He politely says, but I just step closer to him, and apparently he can tell what I'm thinking based off my expression because he's gently grasping my hand in his when I reach out to pull him closer to me. "We can't, Vivian."

"Why not? Because of Nikki? As if he gives a shit."

"But I do. I give a shit. And you're drunk. And you're heartbroken. And I'm not adding to the damage before you even process what's already been done." He states.

"You've wanted to fuck me for how long and here's your shot, and you're turning me down to spare my feelings?" I scoff out. "Where the fuck is Vince Neil when you need him?" I say to myself outloud, irritated with Duff, about to push past him to go to my room.

"Somewhere in the midwest, believing Nikki is still right for screwing Vanity." He argues, frustrated that I'm not understanding that he's trying to do the right thing.

I stop for a second, and turn to look at him, again.

"Vivian, I want to, but I can't--"

"--You didn't tell me about Nikki and Vanity, either." I remind him harshly. "So, when you think about it, you owe me, Duff." I hiss.

"I was protecting y--"

"--If you were protecting me, you would have told me!" I outburst, tears in my eyes. "You wouldn't have put me in a position that allowed me to be humiliated like that! Nobody would have if they were really looking out for me!"

He's got tears in his eyes now, and he exhales.

"I'm not gonna stay here and let you badger me for doing what I thought was the best thing to do." He says, walking to the door.

"Yeah, just leave me like Nikki! Just go get shitfaced and pout and end the night on top of another girl because that's how everybody else solves their fucking issues!"

He snaps around, causing me to bump into him from where I'm following at his heels.

"I'm not Nikki." He says through his teeth.

"You didn't tell me." I repeat weakly. "Nobody told me."

His frustration dissipates, and he takes a couple of steps to me, before leaning down, suddenly taking my lips with his.

The numbing effect of being kissed and held is potent, and a sick part of my mind pictures I'm with Nikki, and not Duff.

I try to keep my eyes closed the best I can to keep the illusion alive, even when clothes start being torn off, even when my legs are wrapped around his bare hips, my naked back against the wall and his tongue and mine dancing as adrenaline and ecstasy course through me.

With each thrust, I'm growing more sober, more conscious to the fact this isn't Nikki.

He stops abruptly, pulling away from me, furrowing his brows.

"Viv?"

"Yeah?" I ask, still not opening my eyes.

"Look at me." He says softly and I gently shake my head. "Viv--"

"--Just keep going." I tell him, my voice cracking, as a lump forms in my throat.

"Are you crying?" He asks next, and I finally look at him.

He looks horrified and guilty, as if he's screaming at himself internally for being shitty.

He's not shitty. I am.

"I'm sorry." I say next.

"Jesus Christ." He lets out, a single tear falls past his lashes and he's pulling out of me and putting me back on my feet as fast as he can.

"Duff."

He ignores me, pulling his clothes on.

"Duff, please." I grab at his arm and he shakes me off, putting his boots back on, sniffling, wiping his eye quickly, picking up his jacket and getting his car keys. "Duff, I'm sorry--"

"--I'm not Nikki." Is the last thing he says before slamming my front door shut.

"Vivian?" I'm snapping out of my daydream, seeing Steven furrowing his brows, the loud verse of "Mr. Brownstone" blaring in my ears from the club speakers.

"Yeah?" I reply to him.

"I was coming to get a refill, Duff wanted me to come check on you." He tells me and I look down at the empty water glass in my hand.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." I assure him with a smile.

"Okay, just making sure."

-> Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Four (pt. 2)

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

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breathinginthevapor · 5 years

Text

“At least think of me while you’re gone”

Summary: your relationship with Tom is a secret, and you hate it. At a party, your feelings are finally confronted.

A/N: This is a very, very, very late (im so sorry taylor!) entry for @plushparkers 2k writing challenge, so a big congrats to her on reaching on that amazing milestone! I hope you guys will give it a read and tell me what you think afterwards!

Word count: 5600+

T/W: alcohol and swearing

My masterlist

To: The Worst Spiderman Ever🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

When does your plane arrive?❤️ (heart emoji)

You hit send, putting your phone down on the sink. You pick up the mascara instead, painting your eyelashes black before the “Ping!”-sound from your phone startles you and causes you to draw a dark line just below your eyebrow.

“Fucking shit,” you curse, searching through your cabinet with frantic movements for a cotton pad and makeup remover.

While you try to remove your mistake, you look at your phone.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

Around 5. Don’t have to pick me up, though.

Throwing the cotton pad in the bin, you quickly type an answer.

To: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

You know I want to. Missed you😘 (kissing emoji)

You smile at the thought that you’ll see him today, and that these last months spent longing will finally be over. In just a couple of hours, you will be able to smell him, talk to him, touch him. And yeah, maybe he won’t kiss you at the airport, but he definitely will later, when it’s just the two of you.

Another “Ping” lets you know you’ve gotten a new message, and you try to keep your cool by applying some lipstick, but your whole body is buzzing, eager to see his answer.

Soon, your lips are coated in a beautiful red shade, perfectly kissable in your own, humble opinion. Tom loves having your lips mark him, his jaw often covered in lipstick marks after you’ve been hanging out, and the fact that the popping colour draws attention to your lips doesn’t hurt, either.

You want him to hug you in the airport while he’s yearning to kiss you, yearning to see if you taste like that cherry lip balm he likes, and maybe you won’t when he finally gets you alone, but by then it won’t matter.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

There’ll be a crowd, and I’ll be too tired to do anything but sleep anyway.

You don’t understand. Does that mean he doesn’t want you to come? Or that he thinks you’ll get uncomfortable surrounded by his screaming fans?

Because you can deal with the fans, you’ve done so before, but if it’s because he doesn’t want you there, you won’t know what to do.

Before you can answer, though, another text shows on the screen.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

I’ll just see you at the party🕺🎆 (dancing man and fireworks emoji)

The welcome home party might already be tomorrow, but you still feel stupid. Here you’ve been, ecstatic for his return for weeks while he doesn’t even want you to be there in the airport. Besides, who knows how much you’ll even see of him tomorrow, everyone’s there to see him, after all.

To: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

👍 (thumbs up emoji)

And yeah, maybe your answer is passive aggressive, but right now, you really don’t care. Not when you’ve spent days debating what to wear for picking him up and figured out exactly what amount of make-up you should go for to ensure you looking great but not over the top.

And now, he doesn’t even want to see you.

You find the makeup remover once more, this time removing all traces of the makeup you’ve just applied. You slide the cotton pad all over your face with harsh movements, and while it might not be the best way to clean your skin, it helps relieve some of the anger.

Both your skin and your eyes are red when you’re finished, but you don’t look at yourself in the mirror long enough to see the tears sliding down.

Instead, you go back to bed, crawl under the covers and cry to a sad teen movie you loved when you were younger.

The worst part is, you find that you still love the movie just as much as back then, all too similar to the way your love for Tom has done nothing but increase since you first discovered it in your teen years.

Tom’s parents’ house is filled up with people, but as Tom’s best friend through most of your life, you know the bigger part of them.

You spend a couple minutes talking to his aunt about her hip problems, but then you figure you want something to drink and excuse yourself.

There’s a lot to choose from, delicious sodas and expensive-looking bottles of champagne and wine, but you pick up a canned beer instead. You figure you need some alcohol as soon as possible. That way, you hope you’ll have the courage to face him when you have to.

You definitely can’t keep avoiding him, because even though the house isn’t small, it isn’t exactly a mansion, either.

You sip the beer, taking a few steps towards the wall to let Tom’s young cousins access the drink’s table.

Then, your eyes meet his, and you feel slightly dizzy as it seems almost unreal to finally see him in real life and not through a screen.

Still, you’re angry and hurt, and there’s a knot in your stomach. You can’t remember the last time you felt like this, the last you were angry at him. And maybe it’s petty, but you just hate the fact that you always plan everything around him, while he, when it comes down to it, doesn’t even want to see you after spending four months apart.

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile while still making his way to you, squeezing in between people and excusing himself.

“Hey,” you repeat, but your voice is cold as you take another sip of your beer. There’s a flicker of worry breaking through his confident, happy exterior, but it disappears quickly.

When he’s finally standing close enough to you, he engulfs you in a tight hug, and although you’ve dreamt about this reunion, this first hug in months, it doesn’t even feel that nice. Your body is tense, and your attempt to reciprocate his hug is half-hearted, so he finally lets you go and looks inquiring at you, still with a grip on your elbows.

“We cool?”

You swallow a lump, trying to put on a fake smile. You hope he doesn’t see through it, because although he used to be able to read your face as if it was a stop sign or a stupid brochure for a new pizzeria, it’s been a long time since you last saw each other.

“Sure.”

“Why are you acting weird then?” he asks, and you know he’s split between knowing you’re lying and the fact that it probably won’t help his situation to call you out on it.

You shake his hands off you to gulp down some beer.

“I’m not.”

He crooks his head, scrunching his eyes and looking down at his hands that hang loosely down his sides after returning from you. They start fiddling with the red polo he’s wearing, and you let your gaze wander slowly up his body, not missing how strong his biceps look or the broadness of his shoulder, before you get to his face to find him already watching you.

“You are.”

This time, you don’t argue. Why even bother?

A silence settles between you, so different to the happy chatter filling up the room, and you don’t know how to act. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced anything so awkward with Tom, he’s always been the one you could talk to for an endless number of hours, the one you could be quiet with, the one person in the world you were most comfortable around.

“Nice party,” you say when the silence becomes too much for you, but you hate yourself for being the first one to bow down. It seems that you always are.

He shrugs, “You know my mum. Always inviting people we don’t even talk with often.”

Perhaps it just runs in the family, you wonder; making people feel like they’re more important than they are.

“They’ve missed you,” you just tell him, knowing that it’s true. He tends to have that impact on people, squeezing himself into their hearts in a matter of five minutes. And once you’ve met him, it’s impossible to forget him.

“They?” he softly asks, and you know he wants you to elaborate.

When you don’t, he asks again, this time phrased so you have no chance to get out of answering, “What about you? Haven’t you missed me?”

You look away, your gaze landing on Harrison who’s laughing with Tom’s grandma.

“Don’t know why you would ask something so stupid,“ you mutter.

He steps closer, and you can feel his presence all over your body. His breath hits your face, and you can smell both beer and the homemade chips his dad is famous for.

“Wanna hear you say it.”

You look at him again, and like countless of times before, you are hit by his beauty. You don’t think there’s a single person in this world as handsome as him, but you might be biased.

Being in love with the same guy for years tends to do that to someone.

“Missed you so much it hurt,” you admit, and you watch his face soften. He’s so close that you could just lean forward and kiss him.

Needless to say, it takes everything in you not to.

Luckily, he steps back, and the enchantment is broken.

“I should probably talk to the other guests. Don’t want them to feel left out, do we?”

You force yourself to laugh, “Of course not.”

But everything in you is begging and hoping that he just takes your hand and leads you away from everyone.

You want him to say that he’s missed you too, that he’s been thinking of you constantly, but you know he hasn’t. Or, maybe he’s felt a pinch of pain occasionally, but then he’s moved on and forgotten about it. Unlike you, who has spent so many nights crying, wishing that he was laying right beside you. And you know that it’s not his fault, that your circumstances are different because he’s out there, doing what he loves most while you are drowning in boring schoolwork and waiting impatiently for his return.

He steps closer, and you think he’s going to kiss you, in front of all those people, and your heart starts beating terribly fast, but then he turns his head and whispers in your ear, “Will I see you later?”

You know what he means: Another quickie in the dark, no one finding out there’s any more than friendship between you. Because that’s how he wants your relationship to be, a secret, even from his own family.

It feels like a stake to the heart, and honestly, you don’t feel like he deserves an answer. Instead, you opt for a small smile that could mean anything and then you down your beer, leaving him there and walking over to your other curly haired friend, but not before handing him the empty can.

If he’s so determined to be the perfect host, he might as well clean up a bit.

“Hey Haz,” you mumble, throwing your arms around Harrison’s torso from behind.

He looks back at you and smiles widely, and contrary to what one might think, you aren’t completely oblivious to how good looking he is.

You wonder if you should have thought of getting some less pretty friends to make yourself shine a bit more in comparison, but you don’t think you’d be able to find someone who could make you laugh as much as Tom and Harrison can, not even if you searched the whole planet.

You just have to live with the unfairness of their unarguable attractiveness.

“Hey Y/N. Tired?” he asks softly.

You yawn, realizing that you actually are and confirming his question. He chuckles, and you press your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second.

“I like this sweater. Really soft.”

“Hi nan,” you then greet Tom’s grandmother who has always insisted that you treat her the same way her grandkids would.

Measured in how much time you’ve spent with her and the rest of the family, you might as well be.

“Hello, darling,” she says, sending you a sweet smile. “I have to serve the cake now, but come catch up with me later, won’t you?”

“Of course, nan,” you promise her, watching her leave and then letting go of Harrison.

“Everything alright?” he asks after turning around to face you.

You shrug, “I guess.”

He rolls his eyes, pointing his finger at you in a reprimanding manner, “Tell me what’s wrong or you know what will happen.”

You can’t help but smile, but then you play along and squeeze your eyes shut and crossing your arms, “I’m not scared of you.”

“You’re not? Then you won’t mind if I TICKLE YOU?”

Harrisons hands reach for you, but you run away, squealing, before he can catch you.

“You’ll never catch me,” you mock him, running up the stairs and into Tom’s bedroom before realizing the inevitable: that you’re trapped.

“NOOOOO,” you scream as he pushes you onto the bed and starts tickling you, hands gripping your sides.

“Let me go, please, Haz,” you beg in-between laughs.

“You know what you need to say, Y/N,” he grins, and you shake your head.

“Never.”

However, it doesn’t take long before you surrender, throwing your hands up and rolling your eyes.

“Alright, alright, you are the hottest, coolest, cleverest, funniest person in the world, Harrison Osterfield.”

He immediately lets you go, plopping down on the bed beside you.

“Finally. My arms were getting tired,” he sighs contently.

You grunt, “Should spend a bit more time in the gym, then.”

“Oh, shut up, Y/N.”

He hits you playfully, and you both laugh, looking up to the ceiling and catching your breaths.

When you’ve stopped panting, you speak up, “Would you be ashamed of me if we were dating?”

“How can you even ask me that? You’re the dopest person ever,” he reassures you, turning his head to the side to look at you.

You laugh, “I can believe you still say dope.”

“What can I say, I’m just a dope person, too, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes at his stupidity, before a pang of sadness rushes through you. For a second, you wonder why, but then you remember why you’re feeling down and repeat your question for Harrison.

“No, but honestly, would you be ashamed of me?”

His blue eyes watch you intensely like it’s very important to him that you understand what he says, “Never.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

He laces your little fingers together, the ‘pinky promise’ an old ritual of yours.

“But why are you asking?” he inquires softly.

“I just- I’m just so damn tired of being his secret, you know?”

He gives you an empathic smile, letting you continue instead of answering your rhetoric question.

“I’m not even sure he likes me like as more than a friend anymore.”

You don’t mention a name, but you both know who you’re talking about. Although neither of your families know, it was clear to both of you from the start that Harrison would figure it out no matter what, and that you might as well tell him yourself.

“That bad, huh?”

You sigh, “Yeah. Not even exaggerating, I’m really not sure.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, that sucks.”

“Sure does,” you agree, laughing involuntarily at the tragic situation, and Harrison soon joins you.

Then, he says softly, “If you aren’t happy, Y/N, you should let him go. You deserve better.”

“I know,” you whisper, “But I don’t think I can.”

He takes your hand, squeezing it and interlacing your hands, and no words are needed. You know he feels bad for you, and you both know there’s nothing he can do to ease your trouble.

“I wish it was you instead. We’d make such a great couple,” you tell him, trying to lift the mood.

He nods, grinning, “Legendary.”

“Shame we don’t like each other like that, really. Our kids would be so beautiful.”

“Maybe that’s why. Would be unfair to their peers when they’d be so much uglier.”

You shake your head, smiling at the thought.

Then, on a more serious note, “Thanks for being here, Haz.”

“Anytime, Y/N.”

He squeezes your hand once more and then helps you get up.

“If it makes you feel any better, he looked terribly jealous when you hugged me,” Harrison tells you, and though it shouldn’t, you catch yourself being happy with it. At least he’s not totally indifferent.

You return to the party, Harrisons hand laying comfortingly on the swell of your back the whole time, until it’s to go home. He presses a kiss to your cheek and tells you to hit him up soon, and you thank him for being such a good friend. He truly deserves the world.

You wish you could go with him, but still, you stay, having been tricked into helping with the cleaning by Tom’s mother, and really, you’d be happy to if it didn’t involve seeing Tom.

It’s hard to even remember what made you mad when you’re near him, and if that wasn’t enough, you’re afraid that you’ll say something you’ll regret later.

Because while this might be tearing you to pieces, you know it’d be much, much worse if you lost him completely.

Although you are deep in thought, you probably shouldn’t be as startled as you are when he speaks, considering you are cleaning the same room as him.

“I got a bit cold out by the grill, so I went to see if I had a sweater in my room, and I didn’t mean to, but I heard you and Harrison,” he softly tells you, eyes scanning your face for a reaction. You try not to give him one, pursing your lips tightly together and remaining silent.

He sighs, running a hand through the curly locks of his hair.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” you mutter, looking away.

You wish this conversation wasn’t happening. You don’t even dare to imagine the outcome.

“That you feel like I’m keeping you a secret.”

You scrunch your eyes, looking at him again, “What did you think I felt, Tom? Honestly? You haven’t even told your mom, and we both know you tell your mom everything. I feel like I’m nothing to you.”

Your words are harsh at the beginning, anger in your body, but it quickly deflates and leaves you sad instead, making your last words soft and fragile.

And Tom looks taken back by your statement, stuttering when he replies, “I- I- I guess I just thought we were on the same page. That you didn’t care whether people knew about us or not.”

You roll your eyes, “If you truly believed that, you don’t know me like I thought you did.”

You let go of your hold on the black rubbish bag you’re throwing empty cups into as you wait for his answer.

“I guess you’re right,” he admits with a whisper, “I guess I did know.”

You nod, throat tight.

“Yeah,” you just say.

You stand there, looking at each other in silence, and you don’t even try to hide your tears. If there was anyone but him watching, you probably would have tried, but this is Tom, your best friend, the person that has broken your heart but also someone with hands you wouldn’t hesitate to put your life into.

He takes a small step closer to you, looking at you with desperation.

“I wish we could tell everyone, Y/N, I really do. But you know how my agency feels about my image and my availability,” he pauses, swallowing down a lump in his throat before he continues, “But if my next movie just gets big enough, it will be different, Y/N, I promise. Then they can’t refuse.”

You shake your head, your vision to blurred to see anything, but your mind is surprisingly clear. You don’t believe his words, and really, you just wish he would tell the truth, because to you, it seems that this mess has gotten so bad because of lack of honesty, and you’re done with it.

You’re done with being anxious all the time, not knowing if he’s uncertain about his feelings for you, even doubting whether you’re the only one he goes home to. You’re done with feeling inadequate and unlovable and stupid, waiting around for someone who doesn’t want to come home.

“Far from home was one of the best-selling movies ever, but apparently, that still wasn’t big enough. So, what’ll it be, Tom?”

“Are you asking me to choose between you and my career?”

You shake your head violently, not understanding how he could accuse you for doing such a thing, but then you nod, realising that maybe you are. And surprisingly, you don’t feel selfish doing so.

“Not between me and your career, Tom, but yes, I am asking you to choose between me and the stupid rules of your agency.”

Now, he looks angry, brow scrunched and tight jawline, “My agency and their stupid rules,” he starts, emphasizing the last three words mockingly, “is what gets me jobs, Y/N! They are the reason I can live my dream, don’t you understand?”

You step closer to him, not believing he would dare to treat you like a stubborn child. “Of course, I understand, Tom! I’ve done nothing but understand ever since we started this damn relationship, but I’m fucking sick and tired of it!”

Your loudness seems to surprise Tom, who takes a few steps back from your anger, almost tripping over your discarded rubbish bag.

“Please don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t make me choose,” he begs, and there’s a part of you that wants to give in, but the bigger part of you knows that nothing will change if you do, and that you’ll just stay miserable.

“I’ve known you for most of my life, Tom, and I’ve been in love with you for years, but I can’t do this, not if you’re not in it like I am. I can’t keep giving you my everything when I only receive 30% in return.”

Then, he says those words that you know will haunt you forever, “I’m- I’m- I’m so sorry, Y/N, but I just can’t. Please understand, I just can’t.”

You nod, but you don’t, you don’t understand. He won’t even meet you halfway.

You look at each other, and you watch how he clearly fights to keep himself together, and you can’t stay mad at him when he looks so broken. You’re always putting him first.

“Will you- will you promise me one thing, though?” you ask, voice hoarse and broken.

He nods, eyes wet and lips pressed tight together.

When you speak, there’s a salty taste on your tongue, and it feels like goodbye, “I know there’s so many incredible things out there, and I promise I don’t expect anything else from you anymore, but at least- at least think of me while you’re gone, won’t you?”

A sob escapes his lips when he nods, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you gather your belongings in silence, walking into the hallway, Tom only a few steps behind you.

Your hand has just reached the doorknob when you realize that no matter how hurt you are, you can’t just leave him like this. So, you turn around, throw your things to the floor and hug him, relishing in the smell of his cologne and the soft material of his shirt against your cheek.

His chest is shaking with sobs, and his lips feel chapped when he kisses your forehead like he’s done so many times when you were nervous or sad, even before your friendship turned into something more.

There’s a wet spot on his shirt when you pull away, and you smile through your tears, watching him through your blurred vision.

“I’ll see you around,” you tell him, but you don’t know if you’re lying.

You pick up your things, and he looks like he wants to stop you from leaving, but he just nods and says goodbye with a broken whisper, “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

Then, you close the door behind you, your body a mess while nostalgia, sadness, despair and love fights for dominance in your body.

If you weren’t so busy being heartbroken, you might have wondered if it was worth losing your best friend in return for some months in paradise, spent kissing and making love under the covers. And you would quickly have come to the solution that it wasn’t, that if you could, you would go back and undo all this mess and settle for being his best friend.

Luckily, you don’t think any of these thoughts, not yet. That sorrow is for another day.

“Ping!”

The screen of your phone lights up along with the sound, telling you you’ve got a message. You figure it’s Jake, asking which chocolate you want or if you need more tampons. You smile at the thought, finding it funny how Jake’s biggest fear seems to be that you don’t run out of sweets and sanitary items when you’re on that time of the month. You wonder if he’s scared you’ll turn into some weird monster, but it’s probably just him being sweet.

However, the text isn’t from Jake.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

Hey. I’m home for a couple weeks and I really want to see you

You can’t believe he still has that stupid name on your phone.

You delete all the emojis and text and write his full name without any emojis to follow, but your index finger lingers over the save button. Then, you go back without changing anything.

It feels wrong to do so, like deleting a period of your life that should, at worst, be packed away in a box in your closet and not completely thrown out.

On the other hand, though, the box seems to have jumped out of the closet and into your living room instead, making its presence known where it isn’t appreciated.

Still, there’s a small part of you, the part that was Tom’s friend and nothing else, wants to meet him and see how he’s doing.

To: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

Hi Tom

You don’t want else to say, or write, so you just hit send and put the phone down again, your breath quicker and a spark of panic rising in your body. Even after all this time, he still gives you all the motions.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

Please don’t be like this

Be like what, Tom, you wonder, but you just text him the name of a coffee shop and ask him to meet you there in a few hours. If anything needs to be said between you, it should be in person and not through text.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

Thank you, Y/N. Really❤️ (heart emoji)

You really hope you’ve made the right decision.

“Y/N, I’ve been a fool, no, worse than that, I’ve been a big, stupid idiot, but I need you.”

His grip on your hands are tight, and you gently try to get him to let you go, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“We’ll do it properly this time, tell everyone, and we’ll go on the red carpet together and-“

“Tom,” you interrupt him softly, and you just want him to stop talking. This will get embarrassing for both of you if he keeps going, and you don’t want that.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t let you save him.

“And I’ll be home a lot more, Y/N, I promise. We can travel together, to Paris or Seoul or Rio, and I won’t care who’s watching-“

This time, your voice is a bit louder, hoping it’ll get through to him. “Tom, please, stop,” you plead. Still, it seems like he doesn’t hear you.

He leans closer to you and looks you right in the eye, “I love you, Y/N. More than anything, and I don’t know why it’s taking me so long to realize, but I do, and I’m terribly sor- Why are you crying?“

You haven’t even noticed your tears before he comments them, but then you carefully, as if he’s made of glass, untangle your hands from each other.

“I’m with someone, Tom,” you tell him, and it feels like a knife to your heart when his face slowly falters as he realizes what you mean.

“I- what- who? When?”

“You don’t know him, Tom. He’s from school.” There’s a flash of relief on his face when he finds out it isn’t someone he knows, maybe even one of his friends, but then the hurt returns.

“When, YN?”

You swallow a lump, looking down at your coffee.

“Almost a year ago,” you tell him, knowing that he won’t understand. That he’ll think that you got over in the span of a minute and moved on, but it isn’t true.

So, before he can say anything, you explain, “He was in one of my classes and had asked me out before, and when you left, I just needed to spend time with someone who didn’t know you, someone who wouldn’t ask or talk about you.”

Most of your friends were friends with Tom, too, or at least they knew him, but you needed to be someone who didn’t.

“I told him from the start that my heart was broken, but he was so patient and waited until I was sure I was ready. He really helped me a lot, Tom.”

Tom nods, and you know he understands. Everyone has different ways of coping, and for all you know, he could have slept with half of the world in this past year. You know he probably did with a couple, and the thought doesn’t make you sick like it used to do.

You’re just sad that he probably didn’t have anyone taking care of him like Jake had taken care of you.

“Does he make you happy, Y/N?”

“I-“ you start, but it’s hard to get the words past your lips when you know that they’ll hurt him.

For a long time, you wanted him to hurt, to know your pain and know that he had lost one of the best things in his life, but now, after doing a lot of growing up, you wish you could find a way not to hurt him. Maybe if you lied, but he’ll probably always be able to see through you.

Knowing you have no other choice, you answer him honestly, “Yeah. He does. He really does.”

He gulps, looking away for a moment. You follow his gaze, watch the busy streets of London packed with stylish locals and less stylish tourists, and you wonder if it still feels like home to him. If home becomes a fleeting place when the whole world is at your disposal. You wonder if you’ll ever know, but you don’t think you will.

And as for yourself, you might never get to travel the world like you used to dream of doing, but you’ve realized it doesn’t matter. You have so much else, so many wonderful people in your life, so much love around you.

“Do you love him?”

You look at his face and know that he wants you to say no, that he wants this to be like a movie where everything works out in the end, and the guy gets the girl, and everyone lives happily ever after.

But this isn’t one of his beloved movies. This is real life.

“Yeah.”

A tear slips out of his eyes, and you notice they are beginning to turn red. You don’t know if your next words will make him feel better or worse, probably the latter, but you still say them.

“Not the same way I loved you, though. Don’t think anything can really compare to that. But I really do love him.”

It’s clear he tries to contain it, but still, a broken sob leaves him, and every fibre of your body yearns to soothe him, to protect him, but you can’t, just like he couldn’t protect you.

“Do you remember that last day? You told me to think of you when I was gone. How could you think I’d do anything but?”

“Tom, please.”

“I think about you every single day, Y/N, knowing that I made the wrong decision.”

He grips your hands again, this time so tight it turns his knuckles white with desperation.

However, you both know it’s not only your hands you’re talking about when you beg, “Let me go, Tom, you’re hurting me.”

His grip on your hand disappears immediately, his face painted with both sadness and guilt, and you don’t know who’s to blame for the fact that both of you have lost your best friend.

And you wonder if the two of you can work it out, if you can get at least an inkling of your old friendship back, but to be honest, you don’t have the courage to try.

Instead, you leave him there, in a coffee shop in London you used to love. And you know you will never have the strength to go back, not to the coffee shop and not to Tom, both places too haunted by bad memories now.

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