#I remember I had a crush on this dude when I was like. Eleven or something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

electrospherevaults · 10 months ago

Text

Sorry About The Inconvenience

[Find other stories from the 2024 Friday Writing Challenge here]

The sun went out one day. Woke up one morning and it was nowhere to be found. You would think that the winter solstice would have something to do with that, but it was eleven in the morning by the time you checked again, and there was still no sun climbing over the horizon. The streetlights down the road were out too and everyone was walking about in flashlights and phones. It could not have been a solar eclipse either; there had been no warning for one, and most importantly – they do not last this long.

Maybe it was better to just admit that the sun, simply, had disappeared.

But it is not fair to say it disappeared. Stars go out all the time; such is theorized in deep fields of academia whose job is to look at the stars all night long. “Must be nice for them now,” mom said, “they can work during the day too.” You nodded and got out in the street, because, truth be told, you did still have that telescope stashed away in the garage, under a bunch of cobwebs and cardboard boxes labelled with letters you did not remember writing. It was a gift from her, acquired for your seventh birthday. You liked to gaze the stars that night, and then you kept it as an heirloom of their kindness for the next thirty-forty odd years. And now that it was properly unwrapped from plastic sheets and set up again for the first time in decades, you got it set on the stars blinking overhead, all in an effort to find the star that blinked closest to us.

The neighborhood soon started to gather around. Maurice was there, of course; he always claimed to be an expert in matters of the moon and the sun – neither to be found at the present moment. He chased eclipses around the world, successfully attending several, and he was near certain this was not one of them.

You shrugged. You would hope so. You could not imagine a world without light. You recalled mom’s plant by the windowsill; she had it for eleven years now. She loved her little dude so much. It kept her company as she worked from home on the sunny days and the rainy days and even the stormy ones. Those were the worst as the internet would cut out and make her upset over her inability to understand that you could not, in fact, slap the router to make it work again. Because it did not work like the old boxy cable television. No, a kick worked better.

“And you think we will find it again?”

Old-man Jenkins and his wife, Martha, joined you the next day, who taught in the primary school up until twelve years ago and now tried to enjoy a mostly-retired life. He still carried with him a fascination for space that most old men his age harbored from when they had witnessed the moon landing as kids. It was charming to listen to him talk about the reverence he held and still hoped to pass onto others-

“Also you call this a bean dip? It barely has any BEANS!”

-even if his grumpy ways got worse with his old age. You sighed. The bean dip had no beans because it was not a bean dip. It had lentils. You still could not understand how the old man confused the two.

“I still do not understand why you don’t cook something simple for once,” Jenny, from accounting, added; an old friend, an older crush, and an even older thorn in your rear.

“Well, they are healthier,” you argued, tossing another pistachio shell over the rooftop. Only half the houses now had lights on, even if it was merely noon. The electrical company was reported to have been unable to cope with the sudden demand, and a blackout had been hastily and unexpectedly scheduled. Meanwhile, mom had bought a generator on a whim last summer after that horrid thunderstorm had smitten the neighborhood. This was now the only house with a lamp turned on. And, as an added bonus, it had a premium view to the stars above too.

The balcony was spacious enough to hold a black metallic table with a white marble top and some fancy black metallic chairs (a gift from Grandma Nia that your parents could not keep in their tiny apartment anymore). It had to be pushed back to the wall, and old-man Jenkins and his wife, Martha, sat patiently, waiting for their turn to look through the telescope. Jenny was the one using it now. She looked curiously, her eyes filled with wonder; it had been long since a genuine smile like that had been painted over her face. And one of frustration too; the big guy was nowhere to be found. She argued you had not set the telescope right. She left after she stole a platter of bean dip with her, which you still argued was made of lentils and should not be called one.

She would be back the day after tomorrow as it was now the weekend and the sun was still to be found. Old-man Jenkins and Maurice had been exchanging theories all night long – a considerably longer time than one would believe given how long this night had already lasted. Once the battery drained out, they would pop in a new one with their freshly brewed coffee and exchange more ideas on what happened to our sun. Maybe it was stolen actually, and aliens held it hostage. Maybe it blew up and this was the afterlife. Maybe it just dimmed.

“Why would it dim, dimwit?”

“Well,” Maurice argued back, sipping his espresso, not realizing the clock said it was supposedly two in the morning, “ever heard of a white dwarf?” Old-man Jenkins nodded. “Ever seen one up close?” Old-man Jenkins now shook his head. “Me neither! So we COULD be witnessing a white dwarf now!”

Old-man Jenkins delivered a slap to Maurice’s head. It landed with the same thud Maurice dropped his piece of wisdom – very loudly, and without a hint of intelligence behind his actions.

“And you’re telling me these two come and bicker every day at your place?” Jenny asked bemusedly.

“Yep.”

“Are you that starved for miscommunication?”

“Beats thinking about anything else, really.”

She sipped on her cup of tea and nodded. It had not taken too much fiddling to position the telescope right actually back on the first day, nor did it take too much guesswork to realize where it should have been pointing. A hazarded guess was that the sun would actually still be out there, but that it just happened to be completely dim.

Instead, there was nothing to be found, no matter the time of the day.

You sighed as you leaned over the edge, letting the nightly breeze wash over you once more. A lone telephone pole stood across the street, and a single light was open. People walked around with flashlights on; from phones, from torches attached to the belt or the hat. Some braver ones attached them to their front pockets of their shirts, but soon realized that they were too small and would fall on the ground. One such pocket torch fell with a particularly loud crack, like a mirror shattering. The expletives were plenty. Jenny chuckled as she slid next to you.

“At least,” she said, turning herself around and looking back up to the night sky, “it is pretty.” You turned to look with her. Thousands of millions of billions of stars overhead – all blinking in and out of existence.

You blinked back to earth. There was a man in an ill-fitting orange jumpsuit standing underneath the telephone pole. He carried a briefcase. He kicked his feet on the ground and he started walking forward, crossing the street and making his way to the other side.

To your house.

To your door.

The man in the orange jumpsuit arrived at the front door. You all watched him from the balcony, ringing the same bell that had a clear label stating it was out of service repeatedly.

“Think he wants you?” your mom asked.

“I mean,” you replied, “nobody else lives here. Would be weird if he rang the wrong person.”

“Should we go downstairs about it then?” Maurice asked.

Old-man Jenkins slapped him on the back of his head again. “What, you eager to be on the headlines first thing in the morning tomorrow? Local dumbass opens door to stranger, six dead, killer at large?”

You shrugged. “Beats staying in the dark about it.”

“EXCUSE ME!”

Everyone looked down. The man in the orange jumpsuit had a longer face than you would expect one man to have. “Will you let me in?” he asked again, gentler this time.

“Why?”

“I am a representative of the Sunlight Company!”

“The what?”

“He means the electrical,” mom explained.

You turned back again down. “I paid it yesterday!”

The man checked again. “No, it says you have not.”

“Are you sure you got the right building?”

He looked around, without a flashlight. He seemed to know what he was doing. “No!” Evidently, he was not. “Everything looks the same to me.”

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No.” He looked again back on his paper. “Are you Mister Jonathan Harry Klinger?”

“Th-the President? No, he’s at the capital!”

“Well… This is addressed to you still, sir.”

“Are you sure you’re not pulling our leg?”

“I… cannot? I am on the ground and you are upstairs.”

You took a step back. Everyone followed suit. You stared at each other, looking expectantly at one another for answers.

“I think we should give him a chance,” mom argued. You turned to look at her with a side-eye. “He looks like an honest young man, but just a little confused.”

“You do not look human,” mom said later as she opened the front door. You held a rolling pin, whilst Jenny held a pitching fork. Maurice had grabbed a frying pan. And old-man Jenkins had his revolver on hand; his wife, Martha, carried it for him in her purse.

The man in the orange jumpsuit grabbed his face in a moment of panic, fixing up a wrinkle in a hurry. Had you seen him, you would have believed he had left his zipper down. “I am sorry about that; company policy, but they do not invest in proper critter generators.”

“I understand,” you lied through your teeth, loosing the grip on your rolling pin. There was a hint of truth, however; you had done customer support in the past, you can relate to a man struggling with a confused customer that made contact with a piece of technology they had no interest in understanding.

“So,” the man in the orange jumpsuit began. “Your planet has been overdue in its payment, so we had to turn the lights off.”

“And how much is the damage?”

The man in the orange jumpsuit who desperately tried to keep his legs straight and together looked back into the piece of paper. He turned to look back to you. “Oh I assure you, there is no damage! The star has simply been stored in a temporary pocket dimension until the rent has been paid back in full, along with interest. Thusly,” he took a breath and a quick glance on the paper; old-man Jenkins, who had graded many students in the past, would have failed him. “You owe the Company 314’496 Units.”

“Oh, that does not sound good dear,” your mom said as you ruffled through your wallet. Instead, all you had was a couple dollars and a dollar store coupon.

“How much is that in human money?” you said as he took a fancy calculator out next.

“What is your currency called?” he asked you back.

“Dollars.”

The man in the orange jumpsuit sighed with a gravelly voice; if you had not been observing his mouth, you would easily think it was a lawn mower revving up to go at full speed for an early and refreshing five in the morning lawn mowing that was specifically aimed to get you up and running on a Sunday. “There are twenty-five types of dollars in your planet.”

“American,” Jenny added.

The man contorted his face into a smile now. It seemed genuine enough for you to return the gesture. He seemed pleased with himself for getting the expression right this time. He pressed a few more buttons, and a few more raggedy clanking sounds came out, and the calculator spat out a piece of paper; a receipt that the man in the orange jumpsuit handed to your hands.

“Your rent is 78 cents in American Dollars, sir.”

You stared back at the man in the orange jumpsuit. You reached into your pocked and picked up some spare change you still happened to have from the kebab shop you visited earlier. You handed them over to him without counting. He was surprised, astounded even, much like a child whose father shows him how multiplication works.

“We are terribly sorry about the inconvenience,” the man in the orange jumpsuit added, handing you back the leftover change. You insisted on him keeping these coins, for his hard and meticulous work. You hazard, at least, that such work is hard and meticulous, and possibly arduous. “Your star will be back tomorrow.” The man in the orange jumpsuit left. You all turned to look at each other in disbelief, and next thing you know he was truly gone. He could not have turned right nor left without being still visible. Maurice sat down by the nearby chair.

“Screw the sun,” he said, plucking out his pin from his jacket. “Aliens are real…”

He departed soon thereafter, after old-man Jenkins and his wife, Martha, had left first. Jenny was the last one left. “You think this man in the orange jumpsuit was honest?”

“Well,” you said, “he only cost me eighty cents or so.”

She chuckled. “See you tomorrow morning.”

You went back to sleep. It was four in the morning.

Three hours later, sunrays hit your eyes through the blinds – and you had to wake up for work.

#2024 Friday Stories #letsrevince #my writing #writing #short fiction #comedic fiction

8 notes · View notes

ryttu3k · 1 year ago

Text

Durge asks, After the Nautiloid edition by @plethomacademia! I've actually got this far, at least, so I can do this for Tavias. Spoilers for the whole game, including everything with Withers.

1. How does your character figure out their class/subclass? Is it different than how they were before losing their memories?

"Okay, I a) have scales and horns and b) can set stuff on fire. I'm gonna assume Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer, then." Y'know. Once he remembered what a) dragons and b) sorcerers are.

2. Does your Dark Urge use a name? Is it one they remember or do they have to adopt a new one?

His name is Tavias. It's the first thing he remembers. He doesn't remember the surname he grew up with... nor that the one he used from age eleven onwards was 'Bhaalson'. 'Tavias', though - that one, he remembers, and it's the one thing he took from his foster family to the cult and onwards.

3. How does your character handle having allies?

"omg friends 🥺" There's this deep-seated loneliness that he always suppressed pre-Nautiloid; when he wakes up, he remembers the loneliness but not why, so as soon as someone shows a teeny bit of kindness - or, like, not immediate mutual attempted murder - or maybe a little attempted murder but that's okay he's sure Astarion was just stressed - he latches on like a puppy.

4. How is Gale doing right now? What drove your Dark Urge to put him in that state?

He's doing well! Tavias helped stablise the portal and pulled him out. Currently he's enjoying swapping notes on magic with him and giving him minor existential crises by pointing out, dude, you're totally a sorcerer. What you're doing? That's sorcery, because you're a sorcerer. They're close friends. Gale has an unrequited crush on Tavias, who's picked up on it and feels guilty about it, but also ensures he tells Gale that he really values their friendship.

5. How does your Dark Urge react to their urges in general? Are there specific urges that they have a strong reaction to?

They goddamn terrify him. He doesn't even want to acknowledge them - he'll have the reaction then immediately start yelling "ABSOLUTELY NOT" to them in his brain to try and drown them out. He's most horrified by urges to harm children or animals, so he was quite grateful when Gale talked to the squirrel in the Grove, because it meant the onus wasn't on him to respond, and was able to suppress his urge to get Arabella to try and - futilely - run.

He feels a lot of guilt about them, which has manifested in heroics to the point of recklessness, even if it'll cause him harm. He's borderline suicidal, although not necessarily consciously - it's more like he thinks that if he dies, well, that may not be such a bad thing.

6. The one urge you cannot avoid in the game is killing Alfira. Does that event have a particular impact on your character or do they take it in stride?

Traumatic as hell. He reacted extremely poorly and has pretty much been spending most of the game since then in a state of terror. It's been particularly bad since meeting Isobel a day or two ago (playtime-wise) and is going to be even worse when Sceleritas tells him to kill Astarion.

7. Does your character try to confide in any of their allies about their urges? Which ones?

He didn't until Alfira's death, and then he sort of… admitted that he has violent thoughts, that he's been trying his hardest to suppress them, and he doesn't know why that failed with Alfira but he genuinely wasn't cognizant of his actions and to maybe. Be careful around him :(

8. Are there any points in the game that you see as branching points for your dark urge? For example, are they torn between goblins/tieflings? Or are they clearly on one path or another?

He's sticking as closely as he can to Neutral Good (he's not quite Lawful). So like, he might have had vivid and satisfying images of the tieflings being massacred, but would immediately go, "ABSOLUTELY NOT" and work against them. Generally, it'd go 'violent imagery' -> 'immediate positive emotional response' -> 'active denial' -> 'deliberately work against violent image'.

9. What's the general vibe of your Dark Urge outside of their urges? If someone didn't know about their urges, what would they think of your character?

Sweet dragon boy sorcerer. He tries to be pleasant, helpful, and, well, sweet as much as he can be, which is why the images disturb him so much. He wants very much to be liked. He wants to be normal. Or, well, as normal as a golden-eyed, golden-scaled, horned dragon-blooded sorcerer who can set things on fire with his mind can be.

10. How does the appearance of Sceleratis influence your Dark Urge? Do they feel better knowing that something might explain what's happening or does it make it worse?

He knows that Something Fucky is going on now, has no idea what it is, and is scared shitless of what it might be. He doesn't suspect the actual truth, but I feel as soon as he hears the name 'Bhaal' he's going to start remembering, and be simultaneously relieved to know why he has the urges, but also terrified that he may not be able to escape them. When he does learn, he's going to ask Jaheira for advice, which I think would help a lot, and Withers Doing The Thing is going to be... literally life-changing/life-saving.

(Ultimately, he's going to end up as Jergal's Chosen, working to eliminate all traces of the Dead Three from Faerûn along with Astarion, who Withers resurrected as a mortal elf, then made immortal again via being one of his Chosen as well. This was Tavias' one big condition to agreeing to be Jergal's Chosen - that Astarion could, too.)

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #the dark urge #oc: tavias

6 notes · View notes

alyosiuscreightonward · 1 year ago

Text

Dear Diary. Recently I had heard from a friend who said that he had been cursed. I believe that was while at dinner, I had cruised a young man. He wasn’t our waiter but he was some eye candy and I knew that I could just look, make a comment and then in my mind, crumple him up and into the bin.

Thinking about this for a few days, I concluded that at our age, love is a thing however we have changed the dynamics of a relationship.

I will say that there have been a handful of people who were not able to see the love I had for them. Unrequited love is a thing also.

Yes, if I put effort into it I could find someone but I don’t want to settle just because I debased myself for the love of another. To find someone who wants me when I don’t want to be wanted or when I just want to be all up in my feelings and allow me to feel some kind of way about whatever. Yet I feel that they would want to process this situation. “Let’s talk about how you feel and how it impacts me”

At the right moment, a discussion could possibly take place between the two of us.

Today, I’d like a companion. I’d like to have some benefits too but not revolving around tangled sheets, tossing, turning, calling out my name. Despair? Desperation? Yeah, pretty much. No thank you.

I’ve been that person who was on the verge of becoming a stalker but I saw myself and I retreated as quickly as I possibly could. Then when I did end up seeing that person, I felt nothing but shame. Maybe I should stop being me.

Sorry to say but I’ve moved on from that version of myself.

I would like that companion and for us to share the same bed. We have rules. I expect you to have your own life as I have mine. I’d tell you that I’m going to get some ice cream but I’m going to Rhode Island to get it. You’re free to join me.

The household bills are shared as other things but those things are to be talked about. We can discuss how much we should share. As I mentioned before, look at as if it was a dodecahedron, we have eleven different sides to our separate lives but when we share the bed; you and I have our own spots in the bed.

I went into detail about this with someone else who jumped up and down screaming that he wasn’t gay. Dude. Draw the brakes. Pull over. There’s a shoulder to park on where you can catch your breath.

That is not what I ever wanted. Apparently there’s a skewed perception that has been planted in your head.

I went on to tell him, I want a hug. A nice warm meaningful hug and not a great big crushing bear hug. I’d like to kiss you all over but not fencing with our tongues. I feel that’s way too intimate for me and I have my reasons. I would like to nuzzle, snuggle and cuddle but I’m never going anywhere past your hips. If that happens, I’m out. The relationship has changed and I’m afraid it can’t.

He said nothing after that. He has to go there and stop thinking like that. I know I had mentioned that his dalliances with women and the fact that our age, we’re both not married. That gives me pause about him.

Then I remembered that he is an advocate for animals. His skills as a animal foster parent is beyond reproach. I’m sure that he nuzzles etc with his charges. If you have ever had your cat or dog in your bed, on your chair or couch, I’m not going out on a limb here to say that we’ve all cuddled up together and nuzzled.

Again, he said nothing.

Some people are probably flummoxed by this but I do have the natural ability to do two things: Piss You Off to where I fall into that category of “You’re dead to me,” or simply shut the conversation down. Either way, I walk away with my head held high.

He has several volumes of books about the his conquests and compared to him, I’m a prude. If memory serves me, it’s a total of fifty men. Plus, I currently hold the title of Miss Sahara Desert, and I’m in contention for the title of Miss Mojave Desert and Miss Gobi Desert. Unlike that Robert Redford movie, this property is not condemned. A little rusty and very much like Jack Haley once said, “Oil can.”

You get the gist.

So…therefore I can say that I’m okay with dying alone and unloved. Though in my dotage, to have another person there. I know, it’s a fantasy. Though I have a dachshund that is always happy to see me unlike people.

Though the comment. It is not everything. I now I’m not all that either but for fuck’s sake there had to have been a moment of truth.

As I reminisce, y’all can sing Polly Wolly Doodle all day and night long. For me personally, I’d rather like to have a companion instead of a lover. I have developed boundaries and I’m willing to negotiate but as we all know quite well, “I’d do anything for love but I won’t do that.”

This is where I am and that’s it. I know that there is a definite and unchangeable, a fucking absolute, constant between reality and pipe dreams.

I can go into explicit detail about it however what I am trying to say is, “..:something was missing…is that all there is,” to quote Peggy Lee.

I’m inside my head and I’m going to stop here. Whatever plays out in either of our lives, good bad and ugly, I wish you love.

#dear diary #i wrote this for me #no your not the only one #inside my mind #my words #my writing #pity party #ramblings

1 note · View note

skittlesfics · 2 years ago

Note

hii i wanted to request a argyle x byers!reader where he’s like obsessed with her and he’s all nervous when she’s around and she’s shy but she also likes him

so will, jonathan and eleven try to get them together and its all fluff (sorry for my bad english btw)

i love your writing!!!

Thanks for the request, and patience! I was writing this as a drabble/series of drabbles but this one really got away from me. Hope you enjoy! name: bewitched pairing: Argyle x Byers!Reader word count: 2951 content/warnings: she pronouns. silliness. fluff. some egregious pov switching near the end -

“No way, man. I can’t drive her alone. She’ll cast a hex on me or something.” Argyle said, throwing both hands up defensively. Jonathan raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“A hex.” He challenged. He knew that Argyle hit the bong a bit hard sometimes, but this was by far the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard from the other boy’s mouth, especially considering he didn’t even know about El’s powers.

“Yeah, man, another one! Your sister has some witchy shit going on.” Argyle wiggled his fingers to demonstrate his meaning, waving them around for emphasis. Jonathan watched him with pursed lips, still skeptical.

“Dude. Argyle. What are you talking about? Another hex? Witchy shit? She’s my sister, and she needs a ride to work later.” Jonathan wasn’t normally the type to get pushy when asking for a favor, but his best friend was truly not making any sense this time. Sure, you sometimes wore your eyeliner a little on the thick side, but that didn’t make you witchy.

“No, man, I’m serious. Like, dead serious. She did something to me last time I drove her alone. She like… whispered something right as she was getting around the van and BOOM!” He clapped his hands together for emphasis, the sudden noise making Jonathan jump, “I can’t stop thinking about her! At first I thought it was just because the van still smelled like her perfume, but nope. Someone ordered her favorite pizza toppings and I caught myself arranging them the way she likes them before I remembered it wasn’t for her.”

When Jonathan didn’t say anything, he continued, “Then I saw her favorite flowers in this neighborhood I was delivering to, and I started slowing down to pick them! I see her everywhere dude, in everything. I’m telling you, she cursed me.”

Jonathan stared as his friend, slack-jawed as he tried to deflect his painfully obvious curse into some sort of magical phenomenon. If Argyle wasn’t staring at him so earnestly, he would have laughed. He wanted to laugh anyway, but in a disbelieving sort of way. In a, am I really going to convince you that you’re in love with my baby sister kind of way.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a curse, Argyle.”

“Dude, are you listening? I can’t even talk around her anymore, man. I get all tongue tied, like, I just don’t know what to say. Or I know what I want to say but it never comes out right and she just gets this sweet look on her face and laughs. Doesn’t say anything, just laughs.”

Oh, he had it bad. Of course, Jonathan and the rest of the population of Lenora Hills, California already knew that Argyle had a crush on the Byers sister, but Jonathan had just laughed it off until now because it was Argyle and you were you and it was nothing serious. This was sounding serious.

“What if Jane rides with you?” Jonathan offered, glancing back at the house. He couldn’t miss his scheduled phone call with Nancy again, and his car had been giving him too many problems to reliably get you to work anyway.

Argyle hummed, considering.

“Come on, dude, please? She wouldn’t dare do anything in front of Jane, you know. She’s way too protective.” Jonathan knew he shouldn’t feed into it, but he needed this favor.

Argyle sighed but acquiesced, finally.

“Fine, but only if Jane rides with us. And no witchy shit!”

You drummed your fingers nervously on your lap as Argyle drove, something inoffensive playing quietly over the radio. He was uncharacteristically quiet, and you weren’t sure if you had done or said something to upset him. Under normal circumstances, you probably wouldn’t have asked, and with El being oddly insistent on riding with the two of you today, you certainly had nothing to say.

“Your hair looks good today; did you do something different?” El called from the back, surprisingly chipper. You turned your head to raise an eyebrow at her, but she just smiled at you, “Don’t you think it looks good, Argyle?”

You turned to look at Argyle, and caught his gaze when he glanced over at you. You offered him a confused smile, but he quickly turned his eyes back to the road.

“Uhhh, yeah, dude. It looks good. Looks great. Pretty.” He offered, his grip tightening slightly on the wheel as he rambled, “Pretty… hairy?” You giggled; you couldn’t help it. Argyle was always so adorable when he was tripping over words. Somehow, it made whatever he settled on even sweeter. Pretty. Hairy. You shook your head fondly.

“Thanks, but it’s really nothing different. Just showered.” You shrugged, teeth immediately finding your bottom lip. Listening to Argyle was easy, but talking to him was something else entirely. He was always just so calm, so self-assured. You were so in your head about everything that you worried it would scare him away if he caught onto that.

You could feel his eyes on you, briefly, but neither of you said anything else. You thought you heard a quiet sigh from the back seat, but when you looked back, El was just staring out the window. You weren’t sure why she had wanted to come along anyway.

The drive to your job was nothing special, just flat desert for miles. Sometimes you would be daring and try to pull a rant out of Argyle, but with El as an audience, you didn’t dare. You would usually quietly remark on something innocuous and he would latch on, turning it into a full on rant or story that would leave you in stitches. Without that, this was just… awkward.

Your salvation came in the form of the small diner you had been waitressing at appearing on the horizon. The drive to work had never felt so long.

Argyle pulled into the ‘No Parking’ zone and you gathered your belongings quickly, flashing a smile as you hurried to exit the van.

“Thanks for the ride, drive safe!” You waved your goodbye and hurried inside, glad to be free of the lingering awkwardness.

You found yourself thinking of Argyle for the entire first half of your shift. The way he said pretty before amending his statement. The brief eye contact you had made, his pretty brown eyes meeting yours. The way he hummed softly along with whatever was on the radio, even when he clearly didn’t know the song. You were glad that you could at least be friends with someone like him, since you'd never been able to work up the nerve to say something that might change that into something more.

Back at the Byers house, Will swung his legs as he sat on the edge of his bed, listening intently to El and Jonathan as they each filled him in on their side of the story. Internally, his brain was whirring. If only Dustin and Mike were here, this would be easy. They were good at meddling. Even Lucas would’ve known how to drop the right hints in the right places. Without those three, though, they would need a friend. But first, Will needed answers.

“Let me get this straight. You want to hook your best friend up with our sister?”

That was exactly what Jonathan wanted, it turns out.

You knew from the very beginning that your siblings were planning something.

Will had always been terrible at lying to you, and Jonathan always got this weird look on his face when he was planning something he didn’t want you to ask him about. Still, it was El that provided the final nail in the coffin. When she suddenly became very interested in what you were wearing to the drive-in that evening, you knew for sure.

“El, it’s just the drive-in. No one will even see me!” You protested, putting away the miniskirt your mother had bought for you during one of her rare “you’re young, go be young! Take advantage of it!” phases. You had never managed to convince yourself to wear it out of the house, not wanting the extra attention it would bring.

El snatched the skirt back from the top of the drawer and dropped it back onto your bed.

“Exactly, wear it.” She insisted stubbornly.

The two of you glared at each other over the clothes. You thought to call her out, the words ‘Friends don’t lie’ just at the tip of your tongue, but you simply huffed and gathered the clothes instead.

First Jonathan had announced a last-minute plan to take you to movie, and then Will was suddenly super excited about a movie he had never mentioned before, as if Will was even capable of being excited about something without talking your ear off about it. Now, El was being weird about your clothes, and of course your mother was all for whatever would get the lot of you out of the house, so long as Jonathan was there to keep a keen eye on everyone. If the four of them had aligned against you, you had never had a chance in the first place.

“Fine, I’ll wear the skirt, just let me get dressed.”

El flashed you a smile on her way out of your room that did nothing to make you feel reassured.

They were clearly planning something, but what? It wasn’t their style to embarrass you in public, despite the way you felt as you tugged on the miniskirt. (The top, thankfully, was full length.) There wasn’t much they could even do at a drive-in. Certainly nothing that involved you. It didn’t make any sense.

At least, it didn’t make any sense until you walked downstairs to see Argyle standing next to Jonathan at the door, talking animatedly about something that had happened on the last stop of his pizza delivery route.

“…And that was it. I told her that Surfer Boy Pizza only accepts cash payments and she slammed the door. Didn’t even come back for her pizza, so I figured we could add a fresh pie to our snacks instead of letting it go to waste. It was your sister's favorite toppings, too. ”

You couldn’t help but to smile at the sound of his voice even as you tugged at the bottom of your skirt, struggling to force it to cover any more skin.

“Oh, you’re coming, Argyle?” You asked, finally swiping your purse off a chair to hold in front of your legs.

You missed the look Argyle gave you, eyes wide, mouth half open, scanning the length of your bare legs. No one else missed it, though, and they shared a knowing look before Jonathan broke the silence.

“We figured both cars would be more comfortable. I’m taking these two, so I figured you could ride with Argyle.”

It was so heavy handed that you couldn’t even think of a legitimate reason to protest. You couldn’t say that you didn’t want to spend time alone with Argyle. Not when it wasn’t true, anyway, and certainly not when Argyle was still trying his best not to look at you all mystified. You could already see their plan playing out before their eyes, so you just smiled and went along with it, pretending not to notice the looks they shared over your shoulder.

What you didn’t expect was for the three of them not to show up at all. The two of you had found a good spot at the drive-in and laid out all the snacks, but the movie was starting and Jonathan’s car still hadn’t pulled up. Sure, he had car troubles sometimes, but this felt too convenient. Too intentional.

Being alone with Argyle wasn’t anything new to you, but the tension tonight was. He had always been a little nervous around you. He would talk a little too fast, laugh a little too loud, stare a little too long, but this was different.

He idly spun the spark wheel on his lighter back and forth, eyes focusing somewhere in the middle distance despite the movie playing on the screen up ahead. You tried your best to focus on From Beyond instead of the boy sitting across from you, but the repetitive rrrrrrrrrt sound drew you out of the movie enough times that you gave up, your eyes falling instead to an imaginary loose thread on your skirt. Anything to stop yourself from staring.

You wondered if he knew this was a setup. And if he did know, what did he think about it? Was he embarrassed, angry, uncomfortable? You supposed it would be too much for the boy you had been crushing on to feel the same way, especially when he was your big brother’s best friend. Especially when most interactions with him involved him doing favors for said big brother. The insecurity bloomed in your chest and you grit your teeth to keep it at bay. Maybe your siblings had read the whole situation wrong, maybe you had read the situation wrong.

“I’m not sure they’re coming.” You said quietly, picking at the hem of your skirt in a way that drew Argyle’s eyes back to your legs again.

He forced his gaze away, lighting his lighter proper to watch the flame dance in his hand before extinguishing it. When he didn’t respond, you frowned.

“Argyle, are you upset with me?” You asked, instead.

That got his attention. He looked up urgently from the lighter, eyes meeting yours across the spread of snacks in the van. He had the audacity to look like he was the one hurt, eyebrows high with concern.

“What? Dude, no!”

You frowned, unconvinced. He hadn’t even bothered to light the joint tucked behind his ear, and if that didn’t mean something, nothing did. His eyes lingered on the curve of your lips and you scooted forward, pushing the pizza further into the van so that you could get closer to him. He tensed, not quite freezing, but not relaxing either. You chewed your bottom lip, unsure of how to proceed now that you were next to him. How could you confront him when he was looking at you like that?

“It just, like, worked too well. You can stop now.” Argyle said after a moment. Your gaze snapped to him, but he was looking off again, still fidgeting with his lighter.

“It worked?” You asked, voice soft, unsure. He shook his head, long hair spilling messily around his shoulders.

“Dude, the curse. The hex. You know what I mean! You can stop it now, I already liked you before. You barely say anything, but all I can think about is you. Some guy ordered your pizza toppings and I started spreading them out the way you like. I see your favorite flowers and I want to pick them. I don’t know what you did to me, but…”

He sighed, trailing off as he realized you were staring, a smile playing across your plush lips. He didn’t explain the rest, you should be aware of your own curse. Still, your face was flushed a pretty pink and he had to force himself to look away. To fight the urge to reach out and touch you – to kiss you. He had never felt this way, and certainly wouldn’t without you doing whatever it was that you had done to him, right?

For weeks, his thoughts had been nothing but you and now that you were sitting all pretty in front of him with rosy cheeks and that impossible skirt on, he was confronted with the full force of whatever it was that he was feeling, had been feeling for a while. Maybe even before the curse.

“Argyle…” When you said his name this time, it was like music, and he could feel himself sinking further under your spell. You could have asked him anything, could have asked him to do anything, and when he opened his eyes and found you beaming at him he felt something clench in his chest and knew that he was lost. Everything he had done to avoid this had failed. He was utterly and completely at your whim.

He didn’t realize that he was leaning in until you were already kissing him. It was the slightest brush of lips, but it sent electricity down his spine and Argyle knew that he could never go back. You started to pull away, an excuse already falling, stuttered, from your lips, but he pulled you back in, lips seeking yours eagerly.

His lips were chapped, and he tasted vaguely of burnt weed and pineapples, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind when your hand was bunching up the bottom of his shirt, finally getting what you had wanted but had never dared to ask for. All the car rides spent yearning, all the diary entries with his name scribbled over, all the things that you had been too shy to say out loud; crystallized right now before you in the form of the boy with his lips on yours, smiling into your kiss, holding you close even when you had to pull away for air.

"If you're under a spell, what's my excuse?"

And then he was laughing, everything that he had been bottling up for the past few weeks bubbling out as he crushed you to his chest, words failing him as you took the chance to press kisses against his cheeks, his nose, his forehead.

He still wasn't convinced that you hadn't done something, changed something, but he couldn't find it in himself to care when you were this close, fighting a smile as you leaned in to kiss him once again. A guy could get used to being bewitched.

#Argyle x Reader #Argyle Reader Insert #Argyle Imagine #Argyle Fluff #Stranger Things Reader Insert #Stranger Things Imagine #Fluff #2500 - 3000 #she/her pronouns #fem reader

447 notes · View notes

gay-otlc · 2 years ago

Text

Won't Fall In Love At The End- 1

Remember that aroallo fake dating au I posted about? Yeah, I was bored, and I'm writing it now. No content warnings other than just general amatonormativity being a bitch. Enjoy.

"So- will you go to homecoming with me?" Anthony asks, holding the flower out in front of her. It is a pretty flower.

And he is cute. Nothing earth-shattering, but he has a good jawline, and she's seen him take his shirt off to run before, and... well, he's hot. She can appreciate that. Also, he's nice. She likes him. They aren't especially close friends, but they've sat near each other in a few classes and she always likes talking to him.

So, she should say yes. Obviously.

But she doesn't really want to be his girlfriend. There's no particular reason she doesn't want to be his girlfriend. She just doesn't want to.

"Um," Rana says, eloquently.

Anthony brings the flower back to his side. "So, I'm guessing that's a no?"

"Yeah. I guess. Sorry."

"That's okay. I'll, uh, see you around. I guess."

Rana wishes very desperately for the floor to swallow her whole. "Yeah, I'll see you around."

Aziza has the decency to wait for Anthony to be out of earshot before she turns to Rana, an incredulous look on her face. "Dude."

"What?"

"Dude, why would you turn him down?"

"Because... I'm not really interested in dating him?"

"He's hot, you know."

Any day now, floor. "I know. I have eyes. But just because he's hot doesn't mean I want him to be my boyfriend."

Aziza's face lights up. "Ohhh, you like someone else!"

"What?" How, exactly, did she come to that conclusion?

"Don't play dumb, you turned him down because you want to be with someone else. So? Who is he?"

"Or she," Eva adds.

"It's no one."

"Come on, you can tell us," Aziza says.

Rana takes a deep breath. Punching your friends is generally frowned upon, she reminds herself. "I would tell you if I had anything to tell, but it's no one at the moment, okay? Can we drop it?"

"Okay, fine. Eva? Anything exciting in your love life? A homecoming date?"

Eva sighs. "I'm still pining over the same straight girl I've been in love with for six months, thanks."

"That sucks."

"Seriously. I was blasting girl in red and crying into my pillow about this yesterday." Eva sniffs dramatically. "But, I soldier on."

Rana has learned, over eleven years of attending public school, that telling your peers their emotions make no sense doesn't go over well. So she just thinks it privately; that Eva should just get over Abigail already. It's been six months. Can it really be so painful, so heartbreaking, for someone you want to kiss to not want to kiss you back?

People don't always make a lot of sense to Rana.

At least she's found people who are okay with Rana not making sense to people.

"So, we're just all going to the dance as friends, then?"

"Yeah!" Truly, it's ridiculous that anyone things Rana would rather go with Anthony than with her best friends.

Eva frowns. "I still think Rana should try to get a date. Like, come on, you're sixteen and you've never had a boyfriend, girlfriend, anything."

"I resent that. I had a boyfriend when I was in first grade."

"I stand corrected. Still, that's a little sad. I mean, you're really pretty! If there's someone you're interested in, just tell them, and they'd be stupid not to be interested in you."

You're stupid to think I am enjoying this conversation. "I'll take that under consideration."

And she does. Consider it. Who should she tell that she's interested in them? Because she's probably interested in someone. Lately, she's been kind of busy with schoolwork and everything, but maybe there's been someone she's been thinking about subconsciously. So she looks around the school as she goes to her next classes and walks around the hallways, thinking maybe it's them. Maybe they're the one I have a crush on.

Sure, there are attractive people. There are some extremely attractive people. But she can't picture herself in a capital-R-Relationship with any of them.

"Hey. Rana. You good?"

She blinks. Asher is looking over at her. Am I attracted to Asher? They are very pretty, I love their hair, and it would be fun to kiss them. But I don't know about dating them.

"You were kind of spacing out," they explain. "Did calculus break your brain? Because I've totally been there."

"Nah, calculus isn't that bad. I was just thinking."

"About?"

"I don't understand all the hype about dating. Like, my friends are so obsessed with setting me up with someone, and I'm just... I don't really care? Like, a relationship might be nice, but it's just not high on my priority list or anything."

"Honestly, same. I don't get this whole romance thing. Like, what makes a partner different than a friend, exactly?"

It's kind of cool, that someone else is confused about the same thing she is. "I have no idea."

"Would you want to try to figure it out?"

"How do you plan on doing that?"

Asher shrugs. "We could date. Just to see what it's like."

Oh. "Listen, I- you're nice, but-"

"Not in, like, a 'I have a crush on you and I'm asking you out right now' way, don't worry. I kinda just want to date someone for my own intellectual curiosity, and I'd rather not do it with someone who actually has a crush on me, so I thought you might be a good fake girlfriend. No pressure or anything, though."

Rana considers. She would like to learn about this romance thing. And it would get her friends to shut up. "Alright. It'll be like a scientific experiment. As long as this isn't going to be like those fake dating fanfictions where they fall in love for real at the end."

"I doubt that's going to happen."

"Okay, then. I'll be your fake girlfriend."

"Sounds good."

#s's writing #guess who impulsively started a new story in favor of his other wips? this bitch!#aro #aroallo #won't fall in love at the end

59 notes · View notes

crystalizedirongoblin · 2 years ago

Text

Hospital Waiting Room (it’s not the place to get a crush)

Rating: Teen Pairing: Will Byers/Gareth, Will Byers & Gareth Tags: Comatose Maxine “Max” Mayfield, Eddie Munson Lives, He's also in a coma, Pre-Slash, i don't know how to write romance, just so you know, I'm in rarepair hell, No beta we die like Barb, Siblings Will Byers & Eleven | Jane Hopper, Of Course No One Dies, no one dies, Fix-It of Sorts, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary: It takes Gareth almost two weeks to convince her mother to let him go visit the hospital, another four days to gather the courage to actually do it, in the end he can't make himself open that door. At least he won't be alone in the waiting room, and hey, the guys keep talking about Will Byers, maybe he can say hi? Or, I've been watching @my_ownhell Will/Gareth tiktoks and if no one is writing about this rarepair, I might just have to do it myself.

Read on AO3

It takes Gareth almost two weeks to convince her mother to let him go visit the hospital, and another four days to gather the courage to actually do it.

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, he doesn’t know what he wants to say, the only thing he knows is that out of all of the members of Corroded Coffin, he’s the only one who’s even going to see Eddie, and that makes him so, so incredibly angry.

He thinks of Carver’s foot on his hand, pressing hard, hard, hard , he thinks of selling Dustin Henderson out and wants to punch himself. Henderson’s a year younger than him, he’s small, way too bubbly to stand up for himself, and he sent Jason Carver after him, the same psychopath that murdered his girlfriend and tried to frame Eddie for it. He thinks how betrayed he’d felt when he saw Lucas with them, of the broken skin above his eyebrow when they said Carver had punched him, trying to get rid of a witness after breaking Sinclair’s girlfriend bones. Had he outed Lucas as one of their club members then? Had he put him in danger?

He tells himself he’ll only work himself up more if he keeps like this, he had no idea of what was going on, still doesn’t, to be honest, but he knows that his friend is in a coma they don’t know if he’ll wake from, that he saved Henderson and that band chick during the earthquake, that he’d been hiding for days before that and Jeff and Grant, who are supposed to be his best friends are nowhere to be seen. So he steels himself, takes the stairs to a surprisingly empty hallway and marches on.

Outside the room where he knows Eddie is there’s two people; Erica Sinclair, curled up on one of the chairs, sleeping, and a guy he’s never seen before.

The guy tenses and turns when he hears him, and he looks incredibly familiar, but Gareth is not sure where from, but he seems to recognize him because he deflates and offers a tired smile.

“Hey” Gareth’s not sure what to do, he’s never been the best at social interactions, that’s why he always admired Eddie so much, even when he was in Middle School and he was just some dude four years older playing the guitar in the bar across the street from his apartment, even when the only reason he ever looked at Gareth was because his drummer had graduated and they needed someone to fill in, and a middle schooler who could hit the drums somewhat on beat was better than nothing.

Luckily the guy seems to notice he’s incredibly lost, because he offers;

“Hey, I’m just waiting for my sister, she’s in with Max, Mayfield. If you want to go see Eddie just know Dustin and Mike are in the room right now” He darts a quick look at the two closed doors, he swears he can hear Henderson from the one closest to him. The thought makes him remember the freshmen talking nonstop about someone else, the Byers kid, the one who went missing a couple years back. He looks older, but definitely the same guy, same bowl cut and everything, what was his name?

“You didn’t go in with them?”

“Ah, not really, I mean, I’ve heard a lot about him but I haven’t met him yet. The guys talk a lot about him but, you know, I’m not really comfortable going in when he’s not awake, you know?”

“I get it” Thinks of going in himself, watching Eddie laying on the bed. At least he could see him alive, but is it really? Is Eddie really Eddie without that manic energy, that constant noise? He sits on one of the chairs.

“The guys talk a lot about you too, Will the Wise, right?” He really hopes he’s right.

“Yeah, they mentioned me?” He looks surprised, Gareth can’t fathom why, the way they talked about him, he was the missing fourth of the whole person the younger kids seemed to turn into some days, knowing what each other were thinking and holding entire conversations without making a single noise, he feels the sudden urge to make Will understand this.

“Mention you? They wouldn’t stop talking about you, they made you out to be so great that for a while I thought you were as imaginary as Henderson’s girlfriend”

“I’ll let you know Suzie is a very real person.” Will smiles at Gareth’s incredulous snort and holy shit he has a nice smile “I know, it surprised us too”

After that, getting to know Will is easy, the guy is incredibly sarcastic and doesn’t hold anything bad, gareth finds himself almost laughing more than once, and the only thing that stops him is the muffled voices on the other side of the doors, Eddie’s and the Mayfield girl’s rooms.

As it tends to go with him, the conversation moves to music, Will asks about the pins on his vest, and Gareth asks him what he listens to.

He doesn’t understand how that’s a sensitive question, but it clearly is, because Will goes silent. He opens his mouth, tries to talk and changes his mind one, two, three times; in the end he settles for

“I haven’t been listening to a lot of music lately” Gareth’s not sure if he should push, but music’s never been a taboo topic before (unless it’s someone trying to preach something non metal to Eddie, then it’s kind of a bloodbath)

“But there has to be something you like more than others, come on, give me a genre”

“I guess I listen to most of what my brother does, you know? So Punk, I guess” He laughs at Gareth’s grimace “Don’t be like that, there’s more than Metal out there, it doesn’t stop being music because you can actually understand the lyrics, you know?”

“Sure, sure, but that doesn’t make them good!”

“Oh my god, you’re a snob”

“I’m not a snob! Have you thought maybe you just have bad taste? Another little sheep listening to The Smiths”

“What’s wrong with The Smiths?” Bless hi, he looks so offended , Gareth bits back a smile

Keep Reading on AO3

#Stranger Things #Will Byers #Gareth Emerson #gareth stranger things #GreatWise #Gareth x Will #Will x Gareth #Fanfic #crystalizedwriting #my writing

81 notes · View notes

cersworld · 3 years ago

Text

scene eleven, part two

cast: idol!sunghoon x reader ft. enhypen, txt, stray kids, etc.

what happens when your crush and ‘friend’ start dating on what was supposed to be a good day? you go for a long walk and come home with a bag full of empty wrappers and a new found friendship with a random guy you found crying in a park at half past one in the morning, on a weekday, in the middle of winter. what could possibly go wrong? nothing. (read: everything)

warning(s): a lot of swearing, mentions of bad mental health and mental health conditions, mentions of injuries, mentions of food, toxic friend(s), etc

prev | masterlist | next

taglist: @ja4hyvn @studioreader @angel-hyuckie @hwalllllllelujah @a-vian @msxflower @rielleluvs @kac-chowsballs @abdiitcryy @s2elf-z @giyyuzz @amakumos @ncthpen @xithecherie @fullsun9890 @hiqhkey @navsnct @enthusiastforniki @hoewithnojams @leeis @c9tnoos @uauznaixla

“she got so close, i actually thought she was gonna kiss you or something.” laughed jake, remembering the way you stared into sunghoon’s eyes, of course now he knew that was just you checking his focus.

“yeah like the way she instantly flew to your side as soon as you fell, i thought she was, like, a fan who somehow got in.” replied ni-ki practically struggling to breath from how much he was laughing at the situation.

then it was jungwon’s turn to chime in, “no but she was so cool too. like the way she instantly knew what to do and how to handle the situation.”

that led sunoo to turn to sunghoon and tap him on the shoulder, “hey wait, if you were fine why didn’t you reply to her in the first few seconds.” he pouted, continuing, “we were all so worried that something was wrong.”

sunghoon, who had quietly been munching on his risotto, looked up when he felt everyone turn to look at him, waiting for his answer. he grinned sheepishly, putting down his fork to rub his neck before speaking, “yeah, s-sorry about that, i guess i was just in shock or something.”

heeseung, who could clearly see how uncomfortable the boy got, decided to change the topic, “yeah well i would be too if someone who looked like that, dressed in that got super close to me.”

jay snickered, “yeah, i’d faint. she was so pretty i thought she was an actress or a model or something at first.”

“right?! like, did you see her hair? i swear it looked so soft and smooth.”

that’s because it is, thought sunghoon as he went back to eating and listening.

"if i wasn't an idol, i would've asked for her number." stated jay, laughing.

that only got him a slap on the back from jake and laughter from everyone else, "i doubt she would've given it to you, dude."

#enhypen drabbles #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n

209 notes · View notes

sunjaesol · 3 years ago

Text

“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#jiara #outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #otp: cause i'll come #It's messy but in a cute way

86 notes · View notes

last-night-is-a-blur · 2 years ago

Text

Just imagine the comedic and dramatic potental if the byers move back and mike and eleven won’t break up, and WIll and el grow closer as siblings. WIll gets over his crush on Mike, but he starts seeing El more and more as his sister, not just as a friend he lives with, but actual sister.

Mike would be dating his best friends sister, with all the complications that come with it.

Imagine:

Two of them getting into a fight and the 3rd one tries to intervene, either playing peacemaker or taking someone’s side.

This could end with the 3rd party being told to stay out of it, accused of taking someone’s side or managing to give the fighting parties some perspective so they can understand each other and make up.

Maybe some lonnie related issues cause Will to be supscious or angry at hopper (hopper is gentle, especially with kids, but he is also a man’s man unlike bob and s3 showed he can be harsh to kids). El becomes defensive of her dad and argues with him. Mike tries to help, but gets told that this is a sibling issue, so he should back off. Later on though, mike uses his knowlegde about Lonnie's treatment of his family (or WIll simply talks to mike about it, because even if doesn’t want Mike to intervene when he argues with el, then he still wants to went about Hopper to him) explains Will’s perspective to El, and/or reminds Will that Hopper isn’t Lonnie and point out what makes them different.

Mike agreeing with someone saying it’s weird to date your friend’s sister and Will giving him a look.

Will becoming more and more grossed out by Mike and El, not in a “I am a kid who thinks kissing is gross and love is stupid” kind of way, but “dude, that’s my sister” kind of way. Like the boys are just casually talking about girls and Mike says something about el that implies they had sex, and Will just “dude, that’s my sister”.

Also like the idea of clothing being exchange alot among the three of them. Max gets in on it too, and Lucas if she and her are dating. Max is definatley the girlfriend that steals her boyfriend’s clothes. And she and el are the kind of friends that would exchange clothes. I can’t help tinking about all five of them arguing about clothes or asking each other who has their blue flannel shirt because they can’t remember what happened to it, while dustin just watches on the sidelines rolling his eyes. Then Nancy comes home for the summer and mike swears that the shirt he is wearing is his. Mom put it in his room. But Nancy insists it is hers, mom just made a mistake, his is in another shade. Meanwhile Jonathan is having similiar issues in his home with El and Will. But it isn’t even hers, she stole it from Jonathan years ago, Meanwhile Jonathan is having similiar issues in his home with El and Will. So now there are 7 of them debating who owns which item of clothing.

#will byers #eleven hopper #jane hopper #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #max mayfield

7 notes · View notes

chimielie · 3 years ago

Text

the lyre, and the player too

part six of favor the brave (o hand of fortune)

word count: 1.1k

cw: misunderstandings :(

a/n: the end is in sight y'all!! sorry for the late update, this week has been busy. it is unlikely to happen again before this story concludes <3 chapter title from come home with me from hadestown

Hajime wakes, his shoulders stinging with the ghost of a long faded sunburn, his lips chapped from the heat. He blinks, disoriented, wondering why it’s so damned hot, why he’s so twisted up in his blankets. It’s only when he’s standing in front of the sink, one hand holding a glass of water and the other bracing himself against the counter that he remembers.

“Hey,” his roommate greets him, yawning. “You were out late last night.”

Hajime, who distinctly remembers being awake around eleven, marking deep lines in his papers is about to question his comment, when he spills his water down his front, recalling turquoise water smelling of chlorine, drying hair sticking to his skin as you leaned your head on his shoulder, your lips, a hair’s breadth from his own, hovering just beneath him, your—

“Yeah, I guess,” he mutters, turning and reaching for the paper towels.

“Your girlfriend, right?”

“Who?”

“Y/N, right?” Your lips your bare skin your breath wisping over his face.

“We’re not dating,” Hajime says gruffly. The disappointment when he’d pulled away, the floor and every detail he took in to avoid your gaze. “But yeah, we were hanging out.”

“Nice.” His roommate arches a brow.

“Dude, not like that.” He doesn’t say anything. “Seriously, nothing’s ever happened between us.”

“Whatever,” he shrugs. “Hey, it’s still cool if my sister stays here during her college tours over spring break, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure,” Hajime agrees, distracted, still patting at the wet spot on his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere, but it shouldn’t be a problem anyway.”

The spectre of your almost-touch follows him around his day, into his morning shower (cold), lurking over his lunch (salad, rice, eggs), dancing around him as he vacuums the hallway carpet (loud).

He thinks he’s had a crush on you since the first time he saw you, picnicking with your friends on the green. You were sitting sidesaddle, legs tucked beneath you as you bent over a book, marking it up with bright post-it notes. One of your friends reached over to snatch your pen, laughter ringing over to him as she scribbled something haphazardly in her own book. You sat up, scowling, and lunged, flopping your entire upper body over her as you tried to grab it back. The second you succeeded, you sat back in your place, smoothing open the pages of your book with such an air of smugness he couldn’t help the snort bubbling up his throat.

When you slotted the pen between your lip and your teeth, Hajime was hooked.

He had never meant for it to turn into anything more. You were just a pretty girl on campus, then the girl with the loose papers, then in his class, your form admirable and your experience evident. When your friend walked up without you, he wasn’t even disappointed, his notice had been so slight.

“Hi, I’m Tamura Aika,” she introduced herself. “You like my roommate.”

“Sorry, I don’t know what you mean,” he’d said, crossing his arms, curious.

“Okay, bad phrasing. Do you know the girl I came here with?”

“Not really,” he hedged. She shrugged.

“Alright. The way you were looking at her confused me, I guess. Anyway! You’re from Japan, too, yeah?”

At the end of the conversation, he’d looked down at his feet.

“And your friend… what was her name?”

Hajime’s never met anyone like you. None of the girls who confessed to Oikawa told him that they thought he’d taste good; their compliments remained reserved and meek. Most of the people Hajime had dated (few though they were and not from lack of interest in him) had been the same. When he had come to California, he’d learned not only that he was attractive, but he'd learned to differentiate between flirting to get a date and flirting to get in his pants, although the lines blurred more than he often understood.

By the time he’d met you, he’d grown past his initial instant-gratification reaction to flirting, firm in his resolution that he wanted more than casual hookups in the relationships arena. You, though, were a veritable gladiator, looking at him across the table and licking your lips as his brain spasmed. He can’t understand you, always dancing just out of his grasp with laughter in your voice and a smile on your face.

He wants to understand you, and that scares him. He wants to know you, inside and out, the way only someone who loves could, and he’s not sure what your answer would be if he asked. If you were to tell him that you only flirt with him for fun, or for fun, he thinks he’d flee back to Japan in humiliation.

So he lets you fall asleep with your head in his lap and feed him bites of your food off your fork, and he keeps his mouth shut about indirect kisses and movie dates.

His roommate’s sister is seventeen, wide-eyed and wondrous at seeing the way her brother lives independently. She’s a better guest than Hajime could have asked for, scurrying out of the front room whenever he enters and barely speaking more than two quiet sentences to him at their introduction, although he’d argue that he’s not that intimidating. She’s out most of the day, anyway, so he barely pays her any mind.

Yo, my sister accidentally locked herself out of the apartment. Are you heading home anytime soon?

Yeah, Hajime types. I’m on the first floor actually LOL.

You, though, ready for an impromptu night in, store-bought snacks in hand, catch him just before he closes the door, the only image of whatever woman he’s with the long swish of dark hair in front of him.

You end up paying that mystery woman quite a lot of mind.

Back home, eating your snacks sadly alone in your room, you wonder if there’s another explanation for what you’d seen. You know Hajime doesn’t have too many female friends and none with the same shade and length of hair, know he isn’t prone to inviting people over unless he trusts them greatly, know he isn’t the kind of guy to date people to get his mind off of a crush.

One plus one equals three: Hajime doesn’t lo— like you back.

You pop a preservatives-laden confection into your mouth, chewing and swallowing without really tasting it. You’d still had a little hope, even after he’d refused to kiss you, that maybe he just wasn’t ready, that maybe it wasn’t the right time.

You accept, now, that you were just the wrong person.

You figure a little distance will help you get over this ridiculous, silly, tiny crush.

tagging: @bakugouswh0r3 , @p1nkphobia

#iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #series: favor the brave #iwaizumi x reader series #haikyuu x reader series #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi x reader angst

99 notes · View notes

when-they-write-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

SterekWeek2020: Day Six (Blue Moon)

“First of all,” Stiles said, pointing his fork at the red-haired banshee across from him. “The chances of Derek ever falling in love with me are like, once in a blue moon. Second of all, it’s just a quick college party to convince my college friends that I’m not single and lonely!”

“But you are single and lonely,” Lydia said, slicing delicately into her chicken as she ignored the fork in her face. “And there’s no way Derek is going to say yes.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I’m fairly sure,” Lydia said, finally glancing up. “And I’m sorry I can’t go, Stiles. I have a meeting with a professor who decided my paper wasn’t worth an A, and he’s going to regret that decision immensely.”

“On a Friday night?” Stiles frowned. “What, are you using dinner as a cover for an interrogation or something?”

“That’s precisely what it is.”

Stiles blinked, then rolled his eyes. “You can be terrifying sometimes.”

“That is the point.”

“Come on, Lyds,” Stiles said, jabbing his fork into his food, metal screeching against the plate. That earned a few glances from the other people in the relatively-cheap restaurant Stiles had picked out for his and Lydia’s reunion, but he didn’t really care. He was desperate here. “If Derek says no, then I have to go alone. And then my roommate will try to set me up with his douchey best friend and that guy gives me the creeps.”

“Then just say no.”

“And risk pissing my roommate off? Do you realize how dangerous that is?”

Lydia sighed, setting down her utensils and reaching across the table, catching Stiles’s hand and giving a small squeeze. He hated how reassuring that was. “Why don’t you actually ask Derek before you freak out? It’s been a while since he’s visited anyway.”

“I’m not even that far away,” Stiles grumbled. He’d like to say he wasn’t hurt that Derek never came by Stanford to check-in, but that would be a total lie.

Even the betas visited more often, though it was usually just to complain about their lives or steal his clothes. But still, they came. Scott came. Stiles’s dad and Lydia came.

But Derek had only been by like, twice in the last semester. Sometimes, Stiles wondered if he was the man’s least favorite pack member.

Okay, he didn’t have to wonder.

Sighing, he poked at his food again, appetite long since gone. He’d ask Scott to go with him if the boy wasn’t basically his brother and a terrible actor. And Stiles had already decided he’d never ask the betas, because he didn’t need that kind of blackmail.

But Stiles had gone throughout his entire first year of college staying far away from everyone else. At first, it had been a supernatural thing. He had trust issues, okay? But then it was just the hassle of getting out there and yeah, Stiles ended up having one or two hookups along the way, but that’s all they were. Hookups.

And now the friends he had made were starting to get pushy. So, Lydia had been Stiles’s first choice, and Derek was his saving grace.

Dammit if that wasn’t a sentence he’d never thought he’d have to say out loud.

On a scale from one to ten about scared for his well being, asking Derek Hale to fake date him for a night was right up there at an eleven.

Stiles had long since come to terms with the fact that his hopeless pining was just that. Hopeless pining. He could totally look at Derek without getting butterflies now, but that’s just because he had accepted his fate.

This was crossing a line that Stiles had told himself he would never cross. And damn, if he wasn’t silently panicking.

Derek, on the other hand, just looked bored. “What did you want, Stiles?”

For a long moment, Stiles stayed silent. He’d practiced this in the mirror at least a dozen times, trying to imagine the different ways that Derek could-- would-- say no. And it really wouldn’t be that bad, would it? It wasn’t like Stiles was baring his soul to the werewolf or anything. He was just asking for a small favor.

A small, totally platonic favor.

“Stiles.”

“O- oh,” Stiles said, snapping back to reality. “Right. I need something from you.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles winced. He was already going off script and this was so not going to end well.

“Not like that,” he said, then winced again. “Actually, it’s exactly like that. See, I might have told a few friends that I was seeing someone to get them off my back about dating. But now I’m expected to have a date for some upcoming party.”

Derek’s face remained completely blank. Stiles hated him a little bit for that.

“Lydia can’t come, though.”

“Okay.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, burying his face in his hands. Why Derek? Why did his saving grace have to be Derek? “Yeah, okay. And I need you to come instead, dude.”

The words were said into his hands and for a long moment, the only sound was the rest of the cafe around them. Stiles kept his face hidden until he felt like it was safe, peering through his fingers at the werewolf to see that Derek’s expression hadn’t really changed much.

A long moment passed before Derek grunted. “No.”

“N-no?”

“No,” Derek said, taking a long, finishing drink of his coffee and setting it back on the table. The man started to stand and Stiles panicked, jumping to his feet so fast, the table nearly toppled over.

“Dude, hold up, you can’t just say no and leave!”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek said, still looking unbothered. He slipped a ten out of his wallet and set it on the table, covering both of their drinks before turning away, heading toward the door.

Stiles was almost too shocked to chase after the man.

“Derek, Derek, wait!”

He caught the man on the sidewalk and Derek sighed, turning around with a tight expression. Like Stiles was being the annoying stubborn one here. “I’m not pretending to be your date, Stiles.”

“It’s just for one night!”

“Why don’t you get an actual one?”

“Because I—” Stiles blinked, then glared. “Because I don’t want one, asshole. I just want to avoid a terrible situation with my roommate’s best friend.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles did his best not to flush red at that, ducking his head.

“Look, it’s one night. It’s not like you ever to come by Stanford to hang out or anything anyway. No one will even know it’s a lie. Just think of it like a miniature reunion that might involve straight-up lying to my friends one or two times!”

“And these people are really your friends?”

“I mean,” Stiles said, glancing back up. “They’re normal, you know? They’re not pack, of course, but it’s kind of nice sometimes. To be around normal people.”

Derek’s jaw tightened at that and for a moment, Stiles was worried he’d offended the man. But after a long-suffering second of silence, Derek stuffed his hands into his pockets and rolled his eyes. “Fine, one night. But I’m never doing anything like this again.”

Stiles grinned, pumping a fist into the air. “Yes, dude! Thank you!”

Derek just looked completely done with everything. Holding himself back from doing something stupid like hugging the man, Stiles patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

“I’ll be in touch then, Sourwolf. The party is this weekend, so I’m expecting both the leather jacket and Camaro. I get to arrive in style!”

“You’ll take what you get, Stiles.”

“Right, right,” Stiles said, waving a hand through the air. “See you Friday, dude!”

He didn’t get a response, but he hadn’t really expected one. Turning away before Derek could change his mind, Stiles hurried back down the street. And he could’ve sworn he felt the man’s gaze burning into his back.

Stiles’s heart was still slamming against his chest when he turned the corner. Because he couldn’t believe that had actually gone well. Derek Hale was his fake date in less than three days.

Stiles hated himself a little bit for how excited he was.

His roommate left for the party first, still talking up his friend who was ‘excited to see how things went tonight’ to which Stiles put on his best smile and just nodded.

There were a few things about Derek literally being the scariest person Stiles had ever met that might work to his favor. Well, maybe not the scariest person, but Derek could most certainly look terrifying when he wanted to. And Stiles was going to use that to his advantage tonight.

He’d texted Derek a few times over the week, but the man had never texted him back except for one reply that was a simple ‘OK’ to all the messages that Stiles had sent earlier.

And that totally wasn’t infuriating.

Look, Stiles knew this wasn’t an actual date. And he wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking this could ever go somewhere; his life wasn’t a movie. Yeah, Stiles had been crushing on Derek since he was a sixteen-year-old hyperactive teenager, but he also knew Derek would never feel the same.

Because Derek Hale was… well, Derek Hale. And Stiles was Stiles.

A lot of things had changed over the years and a lot of things hadn’t. And the things between them would never be anything different.

Stiles still hesitated a moment too long in his dorm room when Derek texted ‘here’. He totally didn’t almost have a panic attack, but things would have been so much easier if it was Lydia coming with him tonight instead of Derek.

Dammit.

Derek was leaning against the passenger side of the Camaro when Stiles got outside, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. And Stiles hated himself for the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of the man— because could he never wear jeans that actually fit? And Derek Hale in a v-neck should be a literal crime.

The man did not have any rights to be such a sexy… sex god. Fuck.

Stiles tried to calm himself down as he approached the Camaro. He was aware enough of the other people in the parking lot eyeing where Derek stood, cursing at the pang of jealousy he felt at that. Because he was totally over Derek Hale, remember?

Butterflies weren’t a thing when he looked at the werewolf anymore.

“Okay, dude,” Stiles said, pausing in front of the car. “So you came through. Leather jacket, Camaro, and everything. Should I be pleased or worried?”

“You should be thankful,” Derek said, opening the door. Stiles raised an eyebrow and the man rolled his eyes, leaving it open as he moved back around the car to the driver’s side. “I’m the fake date, right? Might as well have some manners.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done to Derek Hale?”

“Shut up,” Derek said, eyes turning a little red. Stiles swallowed hard and ducked down into the passenger’s seat.

Fucking Derek Hale.

Stiles had made a plan, though. He wasn’t staying at this party any longer than necessary and he was totally using Derek to scare off anyone that dared try to make a move. Because Stiles was doing this for a reason, okay? He missed his privacy. He also— almost— missed the days when he suspected everyone of being some kind of supernatural threat, sicing the betas on anyone he found suspicious.

He always came up empty-handed.

Maybe you just miss Beacon Hills, Scott had told him at one point. And Stiles had proceeded to laugh his ass off for the rest of the day.

Because missing Beacon Hills? Him? There was a threat nearly every other week back home, and Stiles totally didn’t miss running for his life through the preserve more often than not. No, he didn’t miss any of that at all.

Because there was his dad, yeah. But the Sheriff still came to visit when he could— and so did the pack. So honestly, Stiles absolutely had nothing to miss.

Nothing at all.

“Stiles?”

Stiles blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. He didn’t even realize they’d arrived until the faint sound of music reached his ears and then he silently cursed himself for zoning, meeting Derek's curious gaze.

“Right,” Stiles said, forcing a grin. “We’ll be in and out, I promise.”

“You don’t want to spend time with your friends?”

“Uh, do you?”

He could’ve sworn the man turned a little red at that. But it was probably just his imagination. Derek mumbled something intelligible and climbed out of the car, and Stiles hesitated for only a moment longer before following.

He’d been to enough college parties so far that he wasn’t terribly overwhelmed right away. Granted, this was the first one before the next semester, so there were a lot more people than he was used to, but Stiles didn’t have anything against crowds. Or, anything too much. It wasn’t like he stuck next to Derek’s side as his social anxiety slowly kicked in or whatever.

Except then, as if the man could read his mind, one arm wrapped around Stiles’s waist. Startling, Stiles shot Derek a confused look and the man only smirked a little before turning his gaze back to the rest of the party.

Stiles hated his treacherous heart skipping yet another beat.

“Okay,” Derek said. “Introduce me.”

Once more, Stiles gave him an open-mouthed look. Derek raised an expectant eyebrow, nodding to the rest of the room, and Stiles took a moment to regain his bearings. Then, shaking his head, he started toward the nearest familiar face.

The girl’s eyes snapped when they were less than a few feet away. Or, well, her eyes snapped to Derek, widening for a moment before fixing on Stiles. “Stiles, hey!”

Stiles grinned, fully aware of Derek’s arm still around his waist. He was tempted to glance over and gauge the man’s expression but forced his eyes to stay forward, trying to remain as relaxed as possible.

“Meg, this is Derek. Derek, this is Meg.”

This time, he did glance over. And the smile on Derek’s face was terrifyingly normal. “It’s nice to meet you, Meg.”

Meg’s smile was wide as she stayed focused on Derek’s face for a moment too long. But Stiles supposed he really couldn’t blame her as he continued to stare too, wondering when the hell Derek Hale had such a disarming smile?

Searching his brain, Stiles tried to remember the last time he’d seen Derek smile. And it left him feeling a little empty when he realized he couldn’t.

“Stiles?”

Blinking a few times, Stiles came snapping back to reality. The smile on Derek’s face had faded a little and he looked more intrigued than anything else now.

Stiles was pretty sure he blushed as he forced himself to look away. “Sorry,” he said, looking back at Meg. “Derek is a… friend of mine.”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Just a friend?”

“Uh—”

“New boyfriend,” Derek said, before Stiles could mess everything up. Though he might still have, jolting a little bit and giving Derek a bewildered stare.

The man returned his look with an easy smirk. Shaking his head, Stiles tore his gaze away. “Yeah,” he said, words sticking a little. “Boyfriend.”

He didn’t even know how to begin approaching any of this. But Meg just nodded, still smiling, and Stiles stayed stuck in his head for a moment longer before they were moving along again, toward yet another voice calling his name.

Derek smiled the entire time. Through every friend, every stranger. The man made polite small talk and only removed his arm from around Stiles’s waist to shake a hand or readjust, always pulling Stiles right back in seconds later.

There were a few times Stiles looked down into his drink and wondered faintly if it was spiked— and all of this was just some kind of massive hallucination.

He didn’t know how to deal with what was happening.

See, when he’d imagined tonight, staying up for hours panicking, he’d imagined it being awkward as hell. Sometimes, he worried Derek might rip his throat out if he said the wrong thing. In front of everyone would be how Stiles Stilinski went.

But it was all so normal. All so painfully normal that Stiles didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Yo, Stiles!”

He startled so hard, Derek glanced over in concern. But Stiles didn’t have a chance to say anything before his roommate was moving across the room, cup in hand with another guy at his side— one with an athletic build and the type of expression that reminded Stiles a little too much of Jackson.

He shuddered at that thought. “Hey, Vincent.”

“This is Brad,” Vincent said, nudging his friend in the ribs. Brad grinned and raised his cup, eyes raking up and down where Stiles stood. His skin crawled a little bit at that and, arm still circled around his waist, he was surprised to feel Derek’s grip tighten.

“Uh, yeah, right. Nice to meet you, Brad.”

“And this is?” Brad said, jerking his head toward Derek. When Stiles glanced over, Derek’s eyes were hard and his lips were pressed tightly together. And there was that type of murderous expression that Stiles had dragged the werewolf here for in the first place.

“This is Derek,” Stiles said, when it was clear Derek wasn’t going to say anything. Which was another first for the night.

Vincent looked a bit uncomfortable, offering a small nod. Brad almost looked nervous too, but he kept his chin up, that cocky smile slowly making its way back onto his face as the seconds ticked past.

“So, Stiles,” he said, turning his shoulder toward Derek. That’s when Stiles heard the first sound of a growl. “What are you doing after this?”

“Uh,” Stiles hesitated for a second. “I think we might just head back to the dorm.”

“We?”

“Derek and I.”

Brad’s smile tightened a fraction. He glanced back at Derek for only a second before scoffing. “Seriously?”

Stiles blinked. But before he could say a word, Vincent stepped in.

“There’s another party going on just down the street that we were going to check out,” he said, glancing sideways at his friend. Brad shrugged. “Then we’re gonna hit the bar on 18th street. You should come.”

Derek’s grip was tight enough that it was starting to hurt now. Stiles shifted, nudging the man in the side with his elbow. He could still swear he could hear the slightest growl coming from Derek’s throat— which wouldn’t prove to be good for anyone.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said. Because that wasn’t the plan. He hadn’t planned on going anywhere after the party except back to his dorm. “I think we might call it a night soon.”

“Lame,” Brad muttered, low enough that Stiles barely caught it. But Derek definitely growled this time and Brad looked at him in surprise. Then the boy’s eyes narrowed. “Dude, what the hell is wrong with your eyes?”

Stiles’s heart stopped and he whipped sideways, meeting Derek’s gaze. And yep, that was a hint of red in Derek’s usually grey-green eyes. Vincent started to follow his friend’s gaze too but before he could, Stiles stepped between them, taking both of Derek’s hands.

“Dude,” he hissed, alarm rising in his throat. “What are you doing?”

Derek just clenched his jaw, lowering his eyes to the floor. Glancing over his shoulder, Stiles chuckled nervously and situated himself so he was still standing as Derek’s only barrier.

“We’re just gonna go now. Bad, uh, dinner earlier.”

“What?”

“See you later, Vinc.”

Before either Stiles’s roommate or his douche of a best friend could say anything, Stiles steered Derek away. The party had worn down some and he was able to make it to the front door without incident, ducking past a few people crowded around it and pulling Derek out into the night.

The moment they were across the lawn and close enough to the Camaro, Stiles spun right back around.

“Derek, what the hell was that about?”

Derek pulled his hands away, folding his arms over his chest and shooting a venomous glance toward the frat house. “I did what you asked of me, didn’t I? Brad won’t be asking you out anywhere if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Dude,” Stiles said, staring. “You nearly went Alpha on his ass.”

“Would that have been a bad thing?”

“Would that have been a— yes, Sourwolf, that would have been a very bad thing!”

Derek just grunted, not looking convinced. And the entire one-eighty was so sudden, Stiles’s head was spinning. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay, well that party is over.”

“You didn’t seem to be having much fun anyway,” Derek said. Stiles blinked at him.

“What?”

“You were anxious and bored the entire time,” Derek said. “A combination which I didn’t know was possible until tonight.”

“I was— I was not.”

Derek gave him a flat look. Stiles frowned.

“Whatever. I just wanted to get it over with.”

“Which is why you brought me along,” Derek said. For a moment, the entire ‘Alpha’ bravado actually seemed to drop and he looked a little bothered. “To scare off your supposed friends and make sure they never invited you anywhere ever again, right?”

“Woah, woah, wait. My supposed friends?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles’s frown turned to a glare as anger crashed over him.

“That’s nowhere near true.”

“You said it yourself,” Derek said hotly. “They’re not pack. They’re normal. But that’s not what you want, is it, Stiles?”

“Why the hell isn’t that something I would want?”

“Because you’re not normal!”

Stiles drew back, a pang shooting through him at the sight of Derek’s red eyes and furious expression. For a moment, he just looked at Derek, Derek looked back, and then the man growled, turning his face away until his eyes were back to normal again.

“I did what you asked, Stiles. Should I drive you back to your dorm now?”

Stiles stood there for another second, throat tight. Then, without a word, he turned toward the Camaro. Because he really didn’t trust himself with words at the moment.

Derek took a little while longer to follow. There was no opening of the passenger side door when he stalked over, unlocking the car and climbing into the driver’s seat before slamming it closed.

There was no talking either, when the man slid the keys into the ignition. Stiles clicked his seatbelt in and glared out the window, listening to the faint sound of music where the frat house seemed to glow neon blue from the lights inside.

And damn, if he hadn’t imagined this night going a lot of different ways.

But somehow, it had still gone off the rails.

When they pulled up in front of his dorm, the parking lot was empty and the one street light barely cast enough light for Stiles to see ten feet in front of him.

He climbed silently out of the Camaro, surprised to see Derek do the same. The man looked at him over the top of the car and Stiles swallowed hard, holding his gaze for a moment before turning away.

“Stiles.”

He froze, cursing himself silently. Stiles could hear the man’s footsteps on the asphalt as Derek moved around the car, finally lifting his eyes to meet grey-green again.

“Look, Derek, I know tonight went worse than expected, but—”

“Did you like what happened back there?”

Stiles blinked, clamping his mouth shut again. Derek’s face turned a little red and he dropped his gaze.

“I mean, do you like how normal things here usually are?”

Oh.

Stiles stayed quiet, thinking Derek’s words over for a moment. In truth, something about it had been unsettling. Not the party, not the crowd. Derek, maybe. Stiles thought he’d love to see the man smile more and engage in conversation that easily somewhere else. Anywhere else.

But only if it were real. It had to be real.

“Is all of this what you want?” Derek asked, voice barely a whisper. Stiles sighed.

“No,” he said. Derek glanced up, looking startled, and he shrugged. “Or… not like that.”

The man raised an eyebrow. Stiles swallowed hard.

“It’s nice sometimes, you know? I know who these people are, Derek. They’re not supernatural. They’re not going to rip my throat out one day or get killed by a bunch of psycho hunters who think they’d be better as trophies than people.”

Derek winced. Stiles scoffed.

“No,” he said. “They’re not pack. But I’ve spent enough of my life lying about everything that all of this doesn’t seem like much of an issue anymore.”

“So am I a part of the lie now too, then?”

Stiles met the man’s gaze carefully. He wasn’t sure if it was the dim light of the street lamp or the fact that he’d drunk a little too much at the party, but Derek looked downright vulnerable. And this time, it actually seemed real. “I don’t want you to be.”

There was a flicker of red in the werewolf’s eyes. Stiles shook his head.

“I mean, we can totally pretend this whole fake dating thing never happened and go back to our previous arrangement or whatever, but—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish that sentence.

Because suddenly, Derek was kissing him.

Stiles’s brain logged offline for a moment. There was the strangest noise and then he realized it had come from him, Derek’s hand cupping the back of his neck as the man kissed him hard and deep, something about the cool night air and the fact that Stiles was not dreaming making the entire world pause around him for a long moment.

Up close, Derek smelled like leather and pine. There was no alcohol on his breath, though Stiles was pretty sure the taste of college beer had to be on his. Which was a strange thought, he figured, closing his eyes as Derek carded a hand through his hair and then finally, finally, he surged forward to kiss the man back.

Maybe a little more hard and hungry. Maybe a little more wanting and hoping that this was real. That this wasn’t part of another lie.

This couldn’t be part of another lie.

Derek growled at the back of his throat, the sound sending shivers down Stiles’s spine. And it was all wolf and one-hundred percent possessive. Nothing normal, nothing ordinary about it.

And dammit, if Stiles had been dreaming about this since he was an idiot teenager ogling werewolf abs when he thought no one was looking.

What had he told Lydia? The chance of Derek ever falling for him was once in a blue moon. Stiles was pretty sure the moon was not blue-- so did this count as falling? He blinked when Derek broke the kiss, drawing away, and there were sparks of red in the man’s eyes that faded ever so slowly.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Derek watched him almost nervously, chest rising and falling a little faster than usual.

Stiles blinked again. Once, twice. He was pretty sure this wasn’t a dream.

“Stiles?”

“That was real,” Stiles said, finally taking a breath. The man’s eyebrows drew together and he actually looked a little amused.

“It was.”

“Derek Hale just kissed me, even though the moon was not blue.”

Grey-green eyes flicked upward and then Derek gave him a strange look. But Stiles was still trying to process, touching his lips experimentally and then squinting at the werewolf, reaching out to touch the man’s cheek.

And yeah, that was Derek Hale’s beard. Stiles breathed out a quiet ‘fuck’ and Derek rolled his eyes.

“Are you done?”

“One more time,” Stiles said, moving forward. Before Derek could react, he was kissing the man again, one hundred percent online this time as Derek stiffened in surprise, then growled, kissing him hard back. Stiles couldn’t tell which was more hungry this time.

It wasn’t normal. Nothing about this was normal.

But Stiles figured if anything was going to be out of the ordinary, it would be who he was not single and lonely with. There was something about Derek Hale happening once in a blue moon and dammit, if Stiles wasn’t going to latch on and never let go.

Once in a blue moon, he thought. But this moon wasn’t blue.

And maybe that made it so much better.

#sterek #teen wolf #sterekweek2020 #derek hale #stiles stilinski #derek hale x stiles stilinski #teen wolf edits #sterek edits #sterek au #sterek moodboard #fake dating #all the fluff and humor

466 notes · View notes

babymetaldoll · 3 years ago

Text

Danger days - Chapter two: "I'm the kinda that you wanna"

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x OC + My Chemical Romance.

Word count: 5.5K

Summary: Joey faces MCR after their awful first meeting. Matthew supports whatever she decides to do with her life. Gerard is still kind of an asshole, and Frank tries his best to be a better person.

Warnings: Cursing.

A/N: WOW!! I can't believe you are actually reading this!! thank you for the love!! I was gonna post this tomorrow, but... here it is.

Masterlist

::: Los Angeles, October 14th, 2010 :::

Mikey ate his breakfast alone, sitting at the kitchen island. He was thinking about the daily schedule, the band's upcoming tour, and clearly, the severe problems in his marriage, the one subject he kept trying to avoid.

His wife was still asleep, and he didn't want to be around when she woke up. He knew it only meant another fight. Whenever they were in the same room, it always meant an argument, and Mikey was tired of it all.

It was clear they had to get a divorce, but neither of them had brought it up just yet.

He and Alicia had grown apart in the latest months. It was hard with him touring for so long and his wife staying home, persuading her own future in the music industry. And after so much time apart, they were both tired of trying. It just wasn't working anymore.

Frank and Ray were staying at the same hotel. They drove together to the practice studio, doing their best to agree on their ideas about Joey. But they weren't really on the same page at all.

- "Just don't be an ass, ok?"- Ray said when he parked outside the studio, and Frank immediately lit a cigarette.

- "Yeah, whatever,"- Toro got out of the car and closed the door, staring at his friend leaning against the wall to smoke alone- "I'll be right there."

Iero grabbed his phone and read the messages in a vague attempt to think of anything else. But that didn't help at all; Joey parked her car just before him that very second.

- "Shit!"- the two of them said at the same time. Frank put on his dark sunglasses, and Joey grabbed all her things from the passenger seat.

- "I can't catch a break!"- she argued as she opened the door and decided to get over the horribly awkward moment- Hey!- she smiled and waved as Frank nodded- "How are you?"

- "Good, you?"

- "Good..."- and it was still awkward- "So, thank you for inviting me again,"- and Frank nodded again, not saying a word- "I'll... head... inside then."

Joey tried to smile, but it was too uncomfortable to bear. So she ran away.

- "Did you catch the game last night?"- Mikey asked as he sipped his coffee, while Ray grabbed a guitar and started tuning it.

- "No, I played video games until late."

- "What are you playing?"

- "Red dead redemption"

- "Cool, and Christa?"

- "She's back home with her parents,"- Ray kept turning the guitar and never noticed Mikey's sad face- "And Alicia?"

- "She's home. She was sleeping when I left."

- "Is everything ok?"

- "Yeah"- and again, Ray was so concentrated on his guitar, he didn't catch a glimpse of Mikey's sad look.

- "Hello"- Joey walked in, and the two guys smiled- "Am I too early?"

- "No, you are just on time,"- Ray stood up and grabbed a cup of coffee- "I got you this."

- "Oh! thank you!"- Joey was surprised by the gesture- "You shouldn't have."

- "I owed you,"- Toro kind of blushed as Joey held the cup and took a sip.

- "Black, no sugar. How did you know?"

- "I didn't know if you liked cream, and I got a lot of sugar on a side"- Ray quickly answered and showed Joey a bunch of sugar bags on a tray.

- "You nailed it."

- "Hey"- Mikey kinda whispered in a low voice- "I'm sorry, I thought you were getting us coffee and stuff yesterday."

- "Dude, it's ok, don't worry,"- Joey smiled and kept drinking her coffee- "Now I know if I get the job, I can get you black coffee with almond milk to brighten your day"- and he chuckled.

- "And thank you for coming over again."

- "My pleasure,"- Joey answered and stayed quiet looking at the two guys- "So... I saw Frank outside."

- "Yeah, he was smoking, and Gerard should be right here by now,"- Mikey took a look at his wristwatch. It was almost noon, and he knew his brother was going to be late.

Gerard was driving and smoking, trying to devise anything to avoid going to the studio and doing another audition with that woman. He didn't want to. Why? Way really didn't know. It was something inside of him that made him feel like he should stay the fuck away from her 'cos something terrible might happen. And he didn't want to find out what it was.

- "Hey"- Frank waved at Gee when he walked out of his car- "You are late."

- "Yeah, I didn't want to come,"- and Iero chuckled- "What are you doing here?"

- "I didn't want to get in just yet."

- "Is she here already?"

- "Yeah... she got here all happy like fifteen minutes ago."

- "Fine... let's get this over with,"- Gerard walked in and did his best not to look annoyed, which was virtually impossible, 'cos he couldn't stop frowning.

As soon as they walked into the studio, the image was Joey, Ray, and Mikey laughing like they were already best friends. And that got Gerard even more upset, if possible, and because of no reason at all.

- "Hey!"- Mikey stood up and hugged his brother.

- "Hi, nice to see you again,"- Joey reached out for Gerard's hand and smiled to do the same with Frank.

- "Thank you for coming,"- he whispered and cleared his throat. The drummer looked around at the band and started the speech she had prepared in her mind the whole morning.

- "Guys, I just wanted to clear the air here. If you don't want me to do this and you just called 'cos Tucker asked you to, there's no need to go through all this shit. I can go home, no hard feelings or anything"- and the band stayed quiet. Ray looked at Frank and waited for his words.

- "Joey, we just... why did you call Tucker? that was so rude!"

- "First of all, I didn't call him, he called and annoyed me for ten minutes before I told him what happened. And second, you were rude, you barely looked at me, you didn't even pay attention to what I did, and you clearly made up an interview to ask me to leave."

Joey directed those words looking right into Gerard's eyes and just spit the words, knowing that wasn't really gonna help her get the job.

- "Tucker didn't really lie, guys,"- Mikey said and tried to ease the mood- "You were rude at her, and I'm sorry to tell you, she's the best we've had so far."

- "Do you honestly think we can work together after what happened with Tucker?"- Gerard asked her, and she shrugged.

- "If you deal with the fact you were rude to me, then yeah, I've got no problem with it,"- and Frank huffed at that answer.

- "You made us look bad in front of a friend."

- "No, you looked bad in front of me, and when Tucker asked how had it been, were you expecting me to lie and tell him it was awesome? come on!"- Joey frowned, knowing that ship had sailed already- "This shit is high school all over again!"

- "I feel the same!"- Ray said and stood up- "Ok, let's get this straight, you two were assholes! And that's the main problem here! if she did or did not call Tucker to tell him about it, that's not the point!"

- "But dude!"-Frank tied to argue, but Ray stopped him.

- "No! this is our job, and we have to be professional. So now you are gonna be a grown-up, and you are going to apologize for being an asshole with no reason to her, 'cos she just came to apply for a job, ok?"

Ray looked more like a dad than like a band colleague at that point.

- "Sorry, Joey"- Frank whispered and looked down at his shoes. Ray looked at Gerard and raised an eyebrow

- "I'm sorry I was a jerk"- he mumbled

- "And I'm sorry I told Tucker you were assholes. He was really excited about the audition, and he was just trying to help me out. It clearly didn't work out, but he meant good."

Joey tried to be as nice as possible, thinking shit had gotten way too bad to even think about playing with this band.

- "Ok, now I'm gonna go so you can continue your drummer hunt."

- "Wait!"- Mikey held her arm and cut her a smile- "You should jam with us for a while."

- "I don't think that's a good idea. This got too complicated. And whether I'm good or not, I don't want this to be awkward for you. You are looking for someone to work with, it's your band, and you should be comfortable with who you choose."- Joey smiled and grabbed her bag- "I just wanted to thank you for apologizing and for caring about what happened. I'm gonna tell Tucker you are all very nice."- she joked, and the band looked at each other.

- "No, really, stay. We didn't ask you to come because of Tucker. We did it because we really want to give your audition another go,"- Frank's word surprised Joey. She wasn't really able to say a word back; she just nodded and smiled.

- "Great!"- Mikey clapped once and grabbed a bunch of papers from his bag- "I printed you some of the sheets of our songs,"- Joey held them and read them

- "Cool"

- "So... wanna warm-up?"

- "I already played two hours before I left the house."- she whispered, embarrassed of her confession- "Sorry, I just have this weird routine. I work out, eat and play in the early morning, just to get me through the day not killing anyone."

And Mikey chuckled. Frank kinda bit his lips to don't smile. He found it funny.

- "Great, then let's set us up,"- Ray smiled and walked to grab his guitar- "We remembered you were left-handed, so Mikey and I rearranged the drum set for you,"- Gerard raised an eyebrow staring at the scene.

- "Why is Ray so nice with her? Is he crushed on that girl? no way! he is a married man! married guys don't have crushes! it is impossible".

Joey read the music sheets and nodded. She had studied most of the songs, and though she had never been a huge fan of the band, she liked it enough to easily follow the tempo of each tune.

Gerard looked at her playing and hated the fact Mikey was right. She kept following each change they were doing and even threw a few herself that worked perfectly. He hated it 'cos she made it fun, and he wanted to hate her. Very childish of him, but yet, that's how he could describe it.

Frank looked at Mikey and then at Ray as they all played "Thank you for the Venom" and knew in his guts this was it. Musically this is what they needed. And also knew it was a shitty situation 'cos he had already made an enormous fuss and didn't really know how to fix it.

- "Shit!"- Ray said as soon as the song ended.

- "Yeah, that was great."- Gerard said and smiled. He knew he couldn't get away with it. Shit worked. And it worked awesomely- "Can we do "Parade"?"

- "Sure, just let me read it first. That's a long one,"- Joey said and grabbed one of the sheets. Mikey walked to his brother and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to admit it.

- "I hate you."- Gerard whispered.

- "I know, just say it"

- "No"

- "Say it"- Mikey raised an eyebrow and kinda chuckled.

- "You were right. She's good,"- Gerard whispered, and his brother nodded.

- "God damn, I'm right!"

- "Ok, let's do this before I totally forget it..."- Joey said and smiled- "And who's gonna play the G note?"- the whole band stared at her, and she shrugged- "G note, not G spot, don't get scared"- Gerard chuckled, and he hated himself for it- "Come on pervs, let's do this!"

Somehow, Joey felt a little more in place between the guys, probably 'cos being a drummer, she was pretty used to hang out with men, from her teachers to classmates. She used to have girl bands growing up, but she found it easier working with guys professionally.

- "So, lunch?"- Ray asked and left his guitar aside. They had been jamming for over two hours.

- "Nice, I'm starving,"- Mikey did the same and turned to Joey- "Wanna come?"- she froze and looked at the whole band from behind the drums- "We are gonna go grab something to eat."

- "Yeah, then we can continue the practice,"- Gerard added and walked to the door. Joey kept in silence and looked at Mikey, smiling sweetly.

- "Ok... sure."

- "Great!"- Ray smiled- "Come on, are you a fan of Indian food? There's a fantastic place a few blocks from here!"

Frank sighed and walked outside to light a cigarette. He was sure Ray had a thing for Joey, and that upset him, most of all 'cos, just as Gerard had thought, Ray was a married man, and a happily married man, he shouldn't care about Joey that much. He was way into making her feel good. And that made Frank uncomfortable. And most of all, like a jerk for being mean to her in the first place.

- "Hey"- Joey appeared by his side all of a sudden and scared the shit out of him- "Sorry!"

- "I didn't know you were coming behind me."

- "Everybody had to pee. Apparently, they all have a small bladder,"- Frank grinned, lit a cigarette, and offered Joey one- "Thanks, I quit a few years ago."

- "Really? why?"

- "'Cos I stopped breathing... and found out I was asthmatic, which made total sense when I gave it a thought"- Frank nodded.

- "I shouldn't smoke either. My lungs are shit; I'm a bronchitis magnet."

- "I feel you"- Joey opened her backpack and took out her coconut butter hand cream. Frank looked at her and sort of smiled.

- "Do you want some? it's gonna be good to keep those tattoos from washing away"- Frank left the cigarette on his lips and grabbed the cream.

- "You are not even in the band yet, and you are making me use hand cream."

- "Tell you, what if I get the job I'll make sure I'll keep you moisturize every day,"- the young woman winked at him and saw the rest of the band walking towards them. She didn't notice Frank's face, who had turned purple after those words.

Matthew took a look at his clock as he walked outside the set. Joey should be back home by then, so he dialed her number and waited.

- "Hey, Akumu!"- he heard Joey's cheerful voice at the other side of the line and smiled.

- "Hey, Yami! How was it? Did you get the job? were those guys nice to you? are you ok?"

- "You are not gonna believe this, but we talked about it, and I have the feeling things are pretty much clear between us."

- "That's great, dorky! What are you doing now? are you back home?"

- "No, we came to grab something to eat, and then we'll continue rehearsing."

- "So you are still with the band then?"- Gubler was surprised, but happy things were working.

- "Yeah, and how's the reading going?"

- "Good, we've been at it the whole morning, now I'm about to eat something, and then I'll keep reading my lines."

- "Looking like a maniac pointing a fake gun made with your fingers?"

- "Just like any other day"- Matthew made a pause as he kept walking in circles, thinking about his girlfriend hanging somewhere with that band- "Hey, are those guys being nice to you?"

Joey looked back at the table where the band was eating and nodded, knowing her boyfriend couldn't see her.

- "Surprisingly, yes. They are all being very friendly. They apologize for being assholes yesterday."

- "Wow, really?"

- "Yeah, we had a weird deep talk in the morning. I think shit is cool now."

- "I'm glad, Yami."

- "Yeah, I've got the feeling they might actually give me the job."

- "That would be awesome."

- "I know! Anyway, Akumu, I have to go. I gotta do my best to be nice with these guys."

- "Please, don't be too nice. They don't really deserve it,"- Matthew joked, and Joey chuckled.

- "You are right, but mama needs to work."

- "But daddy can take care of you,"- Joey chuckled, making her best to process that information.

- "I love you so much, Gubler, but I can deal with this on my own."

- "I know you can."

- "Thank you."

- "I just wanna help."

- "Your support and love are all the help I need to make it."

- "So, what are we gonna do?"- Mikey asked his brother, and Gerard cleared his throat, looking at Joey talking on the phone on the other side of the diner.

- "I know you want her to stay, guessing Ray is dying to work with her,"- Gerard raised an eyebrow at his friend, and Frank nodded.

- "Yeah, you are way into that chick."

- "No way! I'm just trying to be nice 'cos you've been jerks."

- "Oh, come on!! you've got jizz all over your underwear!"- Frank's comment made Mikey laugh and almost choke with his lunch.

- "Dude, you went too far!"- Ray argued, disgusted- "And no, I don't have a crush on her, I just feel bad you made her so uncomfortable, and I'm trying to make it up for her."

The band looked at him in silence as Mikey kept coughing.

- "Dude, are you ok?"- Joey asked as she sat back at the table- "Do you want some water?"- and she reached out her glass to him, who took it and drank most of it.

- "Thanks"

- "What happened?"- the young woman asked, and Mikey smiled, breathing a little better.

- "We were talking about jizz"- Gerard covered his face with both hands as he heard his brother talking, and Joey laughed, nodding.

- "I'm so happy I was far away from you,"- Joey said and closed her eyes, pretending to be disgusted- "Anyway, Matthew says hi,"- she smiled at the band and continued eating.

- "Is he on set?"- Frank asked, staring at his food.

- "Table reading, tomorrow they start rehearsal and all those things I don't really remember 'cos I love him, but sometimes I don't follow all the steps into the shooting process."

They all smiled and nodded in silence for a moment. Gerard looked at Frank and lift his brows. Iero sighed and nodded.

- "So... do you wanna play with us for the next couple of months?"- Gerard just put out the question and stared directly into Joey's eyes. She looked at him surprised and didn't know what to say- "We have a very long tour, so we have to compromise to make it work."

- "I thought you hated me."

- "I don't hate you, none of us hates you... we just started with the wrong foot, but I think we can make it work,"- Gerard finished his words, nearly whispering. Joey's heart was racing. She couldn't believe she got the job, this was by far the best job Jo had ever have, and she couldn't wait to tell her parents. They were gonna be so proud.

- "I would love to play with you guys, thank you for the offering,"- Joey answered and grinned- "And again, I'm sorry for Tucker and all that shit."

- "Nah, forget it"- Ray quickly replied- "We know you are right for the band right now."

- "But if you are gonna be with us, we have to talk about the legal agreements"- Mikey said- "I hate that part, but we have to talk with our lawyers, do the paperwork."

- "Sure, not a problem."

- "And we are gonna need a tutorial to learn how to fucking spell your last name,"- Frank added and make everybody laugh. He looked at Joey smiling, and it felt like those few seconds were in slow motion, without any reason. Iero knew he was going to remember that particular moment for the rest of his life. He just didn't know why yet.

- "Yeah, what's the problem with your last name? when I called you yesterday, I had to practice it for a half-hour."

- "And you misspelled every single fucking letter in it, sorry"- she said to Ray and took a sip of her coke before she answered- "It's from Iceland, dad's from there. And my mom is from Colombia, which explains Maria Josefina ... I know, weirdest mix ever."

- "Wow, and what the fuck the last name thing?"- Frank asked and finished his food

- "Well, there your last name is defined by your father's name, so my dad's name is Sveinbjörn Sigmundsson"- the whole band stared at her with a blank look on their faces.

- "Sorry, what?"- Frank asked again

- "Sveinbjörn, it's a very common name."

- "Sure! sure it is!"- Iero laughed, and so did Joey.

- "Anyway, over there, your surname is your father's name and, in my case, the noun daughter, in Iceland, dottir, so my last name is Sveinbjörn, my dad's name, plus dottir, get it? Sveinbjörndottir, 'cos I am Sveinbjörn's daughter"- Gerard nodded and asked

- "And if you were a boy?"

- "I would be Sveinbjörnson... what's your dad's name?"

- "Donald"

- "In Iceland, you would be Gerard Donaldson"

- "Shit! my name would suck in Iceland!"- Frank grabbed his head and scratched it- "I would be Frank Frankson!"- and he burst out laughing

- "Dude! you are so lucky you are from Jersey!"- Ray said and turned to Joey- "So Maria Josefina is your mom's heritage and Sveinbjörndottir your father's."

- "Exactly, and that's why Joey is the best way to avoid people getting mistaken with my name."

- "Seems legit"- Gerard said and looked at everybody smiling. He turned to Joey and tried to study her face for a moment. Sure, her skin was paperwhite, and her eyes were slightly green, but she didn't look like the classic island chick you might imagine. Maybe there was too much Colombia on her.

- "What is it?"- she asked him when she found him staring at him.

- "Nothing"- he blushed and finished his coke- "I was just... trying to find any Icelandic feature on you"- she frowned immediately and didn't answer a word, obviously upset- "Sorry..."

Gerard drove back with Mikey. He wanted to avoid Ray being too nice at Joey, 'cos it still bothered him. And Mikey needed to talk about anything random with his brother to keep his mind busy.

- "Hey, maybe we should do something tonight"- Mikey asked his older brother.

- "Like what?"

- "I don't know... wanna go out? Maybe see some bands? Peter told me there are a few cool shows around this week."

- "Yeah, sure, let me ask Lynz if she wants to join us? what about Alicia?"- Mikey looked over the window and cleared his throat.

- "No, she told me she was meeting some friends tonight."

- "Everything ok?"

- "Yeah, it's all ok"- Mikey wasn't even making an effort to sound ok, but Gerard didn't notice- "So, thanks for what you did."

- "What did I do?"

- "You took an executive decision for the band"

- "I hope Frank doesn't kill me"

- "He won't"

- "And I stand by the fact Ray has a crush on her"

- "I don't think so"- Mikey's phone hummed, and he lazily read the text, "I'll stay with my parents tonight." Just what he needed, a confirmation of his lie. His wife was going to be nowhere to be seen that evening.

- "Hey, Lynz asked me to get something for dinner. Wanna grab something with us, and then we can go out?"

- "Sure."

Frank wouldn't stop talking. At some point during lunch, he just stopped trying to hate Joey. He ended up making joke after joke from the minute they got into the rented car until they reached the studio. He was so nice even Ray got worried. But then he thought Frank was probably overcompensating that girl for being such an ass before.

- "Ok so, Tucker ran naked from the studio, got into the car, and drove to get a burger wearing nothing but a cap?"- Joey nearly peed laughing at Frank's story.

- "Yeah!"- he reassured, laughing too- "And the studio was in this basement, and the family of our friend lived upstairs and completely saw him running around mooning everyone"- the drummer couldn't stop laughing, picturing her friend running naked all over.

- "Shitface never told me that story!!"

- "Oh, it's a good one!!!"- Frank chuckled and turned to look at Joey in the backseat- "So why were you touring with him?"

- "'Cos I had an awesome band, and we opened for Thursday for a few dates. I was still in college back then, and Tucker was like my older brother. He taught me a lot and saved me when I was drunk a couple of times, primarily for getting into fights."

Frank smiled and kept looking at Joey for a few seconds, and she cut him a big grin.

- "How come you don't have a band right now?"- Ray asked her and forced Frank to turn around and look at the road.

- "How says I don't?"

- "Do you?"- Joey laughed for a second.

- "No. My last band broke a few months ago, and I've been working on a few projects, but I haven't found people cool enough to share it with,"- Ray and Frank nodded in silence as they parked outside the studio.

- "Ok, kids. Back to work"- Ray said and opened the door. Joey did the same and smiled at Frank when he let her pass before him. She was sure he was extra nice to make up for being such an asshole with her before. And Frank was sure he had to stop being so nice at her 'cos he felt he was about to overstep the line, but he couldn't stop. It was like he stopped hating her to fully endorse a friendship with the girl one minute to the other

- "Get your fucking shit together, Frank."

Around five-thirty, Joey got into her car and sighed. She was exhausted and yet so fucking excited she felt she could run back to her place yelling. She had to wait until she was somewhere safe though, the band could walk out of the studio any minute, and it would be too embarrassing. Embarrassed herself in front of the band's first day working with them was something she wanted to avoid. It was too soon to show her real colors. No need to let them know she was a dork just yet. They had a whole tour to find out.

As she drove back home, she thought of everything that had happened that year. It surely didn't have a great start. Moving to Los Angeles to try to give it a go in music had been hard, really hard. If it hadn't been for her parent's support, she wouldn't have survived. But then she met Matthew, and it felt he could make everything better like magic. On top of that, she now had a real job playing with a huge band. That was a huge reason to celebrate.

- "So, what do you guys think?"- Gerard looked at the band and raised both eyebrows- "Is this shit gonna work?"

- "I don't see why not"- Mikey simply answered and grabbed his phone. Zero news from his wife. Not surprised either- Rehearsal was pretty well

- "No, I mean touring with a girl."

- "Oh, knock it, I thought we had passed that stupid problem,"- the youngest Way looked at brother pretty pissed- "Just grow up!"

- "Aren't you a little too sensitive?"- Gerard frowned and sat back on the couch.

- "No, I'm just tired. I don't wanna hear any more shit about how weird it will be touring with a girl or if Ray has a crush on her."

- "He totally does"- Frank quickly said, chuckling, though he felt slightly out of place saying that considering now he was extra nice with her too, and he didn't have a crush on her.

- "Very mature,"- Ray didn't pay attention to those words and looked at the band- "What we should be doing is preparing the setlist for the tour."

- "Is Brian coming tomorrow?"- Iero asked, walking around looking kind of bored.

- "Yeah, he said so, at ten, I think, to see the venues, schedules, crew. The usual,"- Ray answered and kept typing on his computer- "So, setlist?"- Frank's phone rang, and he walked away immediately.

- "Does anyone remember the name of the movie we watched the other day at my house?"- Gerard asked, looking at the ceiling.

- "The setlist"- Ray repeated.

- "No, it was the Hayao Miyazaki about the little girl."

- "Spirited away"- Ray quickly answered- "Now please! the setlist"

- "Do you think she was tripping?"- Ray looked at Gerard, annoyed, and closed the laptop- "What?"

- "I'm trying to work here, and you are not even listening!"

- "No one is. Why are you blaming me?"

- "Because you are not helping!!"

- "Wanna do the setlist, let's do the fucking setlist"- Gerard grabbed a notebook and a pen and started writing down the name of the songs- "There! A fucking setlist!"

- "What the fuck is your problem?"

- "I have no problem!!"- Gerard kind of shouted.

- "Can you guys please stop yelling?"- Frank asked, annoyed as he turned around, covering the cellphone and giving his bandmate a severe look.

- "Sorry"- Gerard whispered and look down at the sheet of paper.

- "What is going on there?"- Jamia asked her husband.

- "Shit has been kind of tense these last couple of days."

- "Why? preparing the tour?"

- "Yeah"

- "Did you guys find a new drummer?"- Frank sighed and walked outside to smoke a cigarette.

- "Yeah, we signed one today"

- "Great! What's his name?"

- "Joey, with an unpronounceable last name,"- Iero closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he added- "And it's her name... we booked a girl for the tour"- Jamia stayed quiet, processing the information- "She is friends with Tucker, he recommended her, and she is the best drummer we had."

- "Is she nice?"

- "Yeah, and her boyfriend is very nice too,"- Frank knew he had to add the boyfriend factor into the conversation quickly- "She is dating the nerd guy from Criminal Minds."

- "Really? he is hot"

- "I guess... anyway, we've been dealing with the drummer issue most of today, so shit is kind of sensitive."

- "Why? Someone didn't want to work with her?"

- "Well... I didn't"- Frank murmured

- "Why not?"

- "'Cos... I don't know. We've never included a girl in this band."

- "Maybe it's an excellent chance to do something different."

- "Wait, you are not upset we are touring with a girl?"- Frank frowned, not getting his wife's attitude.

- "Why should I?"

- "I don't know? 'cos bitches be crazy?"

- "Franklin Anthony Iero! you take that back!"

- Why are you middle naming me for?"

- "That was sexist!"

- "Sorry, I just thought you were going to be against this whole idea"

- "I think it's cool"

- "Really?"- Frank was in shock- "You are not going to freak out?"

- "No, I'm not going to freak out."

- "Thank you"

- "Besides, she has a really hot boyfriend. Do you think she can introduce him?"

- "Jamia Iero!!"

- "What? It's not like I'm gonna cheat on you. I just wanna stare at him... I bet he is tall"

- "Ok... that's weird for someone who has been a little too sensitive over fans lately,"- Frank joked, but that might have been just a huge mistake.

- "What are you saying? That I'm a psycho about girls around you?"

- "No, no, no honey, it was just a joke"

- "An awful joke"

- "I'm sorry"- Frank took a long drag of his cigarette and sighed- "How are the babies?"

- "Sleeping... I was gonna eat dinner and go to bed too 'cos I'm too fucking tired."

- "You should. Is your mom staying at home with you tonight?"

- "No, Evan is here today. He did some grocery shopping and cooked dinner"

- "He is awesome"

- "Yeah, he is on diaper duty until one, so I better get some rest"

- "Go, honey, talk to you tomorrow, ok?"

- "What are you gonna do tonight?"

- "Drive back to the hotel and play videogames with Ray"

- "Exciting"- Frank chuckled at his wife's words and stubbed out his cigarette.

- "Love you, honey"

- "Love you too"

Jamia was full of it. She hated the idea of Frank touring with a girl, but she knew making a tantrum was worse. They had had too many arguments about female fans already. The last thing she needed was to start a new one. But how was she going to deal with this new drummer? She seemed to be a major threat.

Joey walked into her apartment and jumped around in hyperventilation. She had tried her best to control her emotions all the way back home, but after she closed the door behind her back, there was no way she could stop her excitement.

- "I can't fucking believe this!!"- she yelled and jumped around the place until she finally laid on her bed and hugged a pillow. For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like a loser. And for the first time ever, she could call her dad and make him proud, giving him the news of her new job.

Taglist: @all-tings-diego

#my chemical romance #mcr #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #mikey way #ray toro #frank iero #fanfiction #babymetaldoll writes

43 notes · View notes

laudthingcat · 4 years ago

Text

I love you (Todoroki Shoto X Reader)

Hi yall~ This is my first time writing and posting a oneshot myself, but it was hella fun so i might as well just keep writing heh even if it’s shit y-y

I lost my damn text when my computer crashed before saving anything so i had to write everything twice i cri

Btw sorry if something sounds weird. I’m not a native so there’s that.

Word count: 1.4k

Masterlist

Your boyfriend was throwing a party over at his house. His family was rich, so his house was huge. His parents, being busy, were now abroad taking care of an unexpected problem. The house was full of drunk teenagers and the air was now replaced by cigarette smoke. “Yikes”, you said to yourself before getting out of the house. It was the beginning of march but it was still very cold outside, and you started regretting not having some warmer clothes. You sure enjoyed parties, but not this kind. A party where you could at least hear your own thoughts would have been nicer. Since it was your boyfriend’s party, you were automatically invited, and yet, he was nowhere to be found. Not picking up your phone calls or reading your texts, you started getting worried.

It was now almost 10 pm and you still didn’t get any sign from him so you decided checking every room was a must, even tho it was his house, he won’t get mad now, will he? You entered every room, carefully looking around. In a few you got a glimpse at people making out. Blushing and closing back the doors in seconds, you continued checking the rooms, one by one but he was still nowhere to be seen. Maybe he went outside to buy some more drinks? That could be a possibility.

It was just way too noisy inside so you went outside looking at your phone, hoping there would be a response from him by now. The fresh air helped you feel better. You relaxed and looked around the house. “Oh it’s his friends”, you said seeing some familiar faces. They were all smoking and laughing without a good reason. “They need Jesus”, you mumbled before backing away a few steps. But then something caught your eye. It was your boyfriend kissing another girl. He was kissing her so passionately and yet whenever you tried to get close, he’d push you away saying that “he’s not in the mood”. You watched them without saying a word, too shocked to do anything. You knew you should go there and confront him, but you couldn’t, at least not at the moment. You felt betrayed and your heart was broken. How could he? He noticed you standing there and immediately started running towards you, calling out your name. Facing him was the last thing you wanted, so you ran inside. He knew you had self esteem problems and that you always felt like you weren’t good enough. You opened up and let him know about your insecurities and he still played with your heart.

Thanks to the big number of people in the house, he couldn’t find you. You continued wondering around, looking for a place to sit and think things through. When you were sure he lost you, you couldn’t help but think about him, memories of him and that girl filling your mind. Your eyes got watery; you started crying, not giving a damn about other people seeing you like this. How was she better than you? Just because she had the guts to kiss a guy she barely met? She was hotter for sure, but you could be hot too if you wanted.

Not thinking straight, guided by the desire of being good enough for somebody, you went to the kitchen where you grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels. One, two, three, seven, ten shots; or maybe eleven? You lost count. Everything seemed easier now. Your head was spinning, yes, but you felt so much better. Needing to push every thought about him from your mind, you decided to go with the crowd, moving your body after the rhythm of the music. The song was so catchy, and your moves were so different from what your sober version would do. Not after too long, a random guy started dancing with you. He started touching your back, sending chills to your whole body. A few songs later, he started kissing you. His lips felt nothing like your boyfriend’s, so you started crying. That’s bad; that was bad. You knew it. But even so, you didn’t reject him, thinking that it may help you forget what happened.

Closing your eyes, you continued kissing the stranger. A few seconds later you didn’t feel that guy’s lips anymore. A boy was almost killing him in a fight. People got scared and a circle was made around the two of them. You didn’t really react in any way. You were just watching, thinking about how you’d like to eat some donuts. The boy woke you up from your daydreaming by grabbing your hand and leading you to an empty room. He turned the lights on, so now you could see his face. You recognized the face right away. It was Todoroki Shoto. You and him were very good friends, but recently he has been pretty busy with his classes and training, so you haven’t seen him in a few days. That was the last place you’d expect to see him, especially since he’s not a party person.

“ Todoroki?” you asked clearly surprised, being really embarrassed thinking about how he saw you kissing a random dude. He was probably disappointed. No, he certainly was disappointed, since you were disappointed yourself.

“ Yes”, he responded coldly. Ahh man. You knew you fucked up, but did he really have to make you feel so bad?

“ What are you doing here? I thought you hate parties.”

“ I do.”

“ Then why are you here?”

“ I came here for you. You invited me, remember?”

“ Ah, right” You did. But you didn’t expect him to actually show up.

“ But then i got here, and the first thing i see is you kissing some random. Do you even know the guy?” he asked clearly pissed, losing control over his quirk, small sparks of fire coming out of his left part of his body.

You looked down because you already realized how stupid that was. But now you were just too curious. He usually doesn’t give a damn about other people’s business. Why was he so pissed?

“ But why are you so angry with me kissing that guy? Maybe i like him ya know.”

Oh no, he got angry.

“ Why do i care?? He was almost fucking you right there, Y/N!! I am your damn friend! It’s my job to take care of you! I care about you…” His face got flustered saying those things. You thought to yourself how cute he was right there. He was usually a really cool guy, not showing emotions much.

You were at a loss of words. He has always been there, also listening to your problems and somehow always finding your whenever you were feeling down or needed somebody to talk to.

The silence was filling the room, until he broke it. “ But why were you kissing him anyways? I thought you have a boyfriend?”

“ Well, I saw him kissing another girl”, you said casually as if you were talking about somebody you didn’t care about.

“ Oh.. I told you he is a jerk. ” he said in a hushed voice.

Then you realized it. “ Actually I don’t really care. I thought about it and i didn’t really love him. He was my crush so I was really happy when he asked me out, but after a while I realized that I don’t like him. I wanted to break up with him, but everybody was saying that we look good together so i started believing that too.”

His eyes grew wide. “ What??”

“ Yeah..”

“ Are you out of your mind? You shouldn’t date someone just because people say you look good together, Y/N”

“ I know. But.. I wanted to feel loved.. I- I thought he loved me” , you said, tears falling down your cheeks.

“ You dumbass..” He said before pressing his lips against yours. His lips were soft. The feeling Todoroki’s kiss gave you was new. Not even your ex-boyfriend made you feel that way. He deepened the kiss, turning it into a passionate one. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted this moment to last forever. Todoroki made your heart beat incredibly fast, now thinking about how you felt loved by the guy you least expected. When he broke the kiss, you looked down, blushing. He was also looking away, too embarrassed and surprised by his own actions.

“ I love you” , he said grabbing your hand and squeezing it softly.

#mha #bnha #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto #todoroki shoto x y/n #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto oneshot #todoroki shoto fluff #mha x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki shoto x you #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #bnha oneshots #mha oneshot #anime #fanfic #mha fanfiction

97 notes · View notes