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black-streak · 5 years

Text

Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - The Beginning

Part 1

So I came up with this partially fleshed out idea on discord and decided to try writing a prequel of sorts to my HCs? Anyways, Mari is like 20ish and Tim is around 25 here. Pre-relationship.

~---~

Marinette would forever be grateful that she had memorized the layout of the manor back in her first few visits. Otherwise she would have been absolutely lost by now; her sleep addled mind unwilling to give a single thought as to where she was walking. The only thought she could process was a cry for coffee whispering like a mantra through the back of her mind.

Turning a seemingly random corner, she found herself in the side kitchen standing in front of the coffee maker, already holding a fresh pot of the heavenly smelling life elixir. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but whatever, it's 3 am and she's entitled to her theatrics.

Pouring a cup into her favorite mug, having had it appear before her despite not recalling retrieving it, she held it close and made way to the sit-in table, slumping down into the closest seat.

It took about 10 minutes and half her mug down to realise she wasn't alone in the room. Turning her head slightly, she spotted Tim typing away at his laptop, his own mug just to the right of her arm.

'When the hell did he get there?' She couldn't remember hearing any footsteps or the coffee pot pouring but then… she also didn't remember turning it on…. 'He's been here the whole time, hasn't he?'

Turning back towards her own, she finished off the cup and got up to retrieve the pot, moving over to fill both of their mugs before returning it to its holder only to drop back into her seat beside him, leaning closer to see what he was working on.

"Thanks."

Jumping slightly, she just blinked at him for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

"Couldn't sleep?" Tim glanced at her, inquiry quiet and half incoherent in its murmur.

Humming softly she considered before truthfully admitting, "Rarely can."

"Damian asleep then?"

"Probably."

"You're not sure?"

"Didn't want to check his room and bother him if he was. Plus, he'd be cranky if I woke him for no reason."

That seemed to catch Tim's attention for whatever reason, because he turned his eyes off the document to look at her fully now.

"You don't sleep in his room?"

"Nah. I tend to cuddle in my sleep and he can't stand being confined like that. Puts him on edge, I think."

That only prompted an even more perplexed look from him. Unable to process that with so little sleep, she turned back to looking over his shoulder, trying to read what Tim was working on. Giving up, she looked back up to him.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Eh, just some last minute paperwork for a new deal WE is suppose to be negotiating next week."

"... At 3am?"

"You judging me," he asked, lifting one eyebrow slightly in amusement at the hypocrisy.

"You said the deal is for next week."

"It is. But if I get it done now, it's one less thing to stress over at the last second."

"But if you read it on a sleep deprived mind, you're less likely to recall anything you typed up. Meaning you'll have to reread it…. And depending on how dead tired you are, might have to rewrite it. Who knows what sleepy you thinks makes a good deal?"

"Hey! Sleepy me is perfectly capable of working without my brain's input."

Leaning over the counter to rest on her crossed arms, Mari tilted her head slightly to pout up at him.

"Yes but perhaps it'd be best to do so tomorrow and get your brain's input at the same time to save time? Come on, just put on a video or something mindless. I'll keep you company."

Her logic was sound. There was no argument Tim could give that would actually work in his favor on the matter, but hearing a slight sigh of defeat still gave her an immense sense of victory. Peering over at her, he decided turnaround was fair.

"Alright… but if we're not going to work, you should be trying to sleep. Im cutting you off." He said, pulling her mug out of her reach only to find it empty. Sighing, he moved to set it in the sink only to see her take up his own, carrying it over as well.

"In that case, so should you," she smirked, washing out both mugs and setting them to dry before taking up his laptop, grabbing his wrist, and tugging him towards the living room.

'How did I not see that coming? That was the obvious outcome… when Was the last time I slept,' Tim wondered, not really paying mind to Mari as she situated them both on the couch, turning the screen to face them both from the coffee table, youtube pulled up and a vine compilation being queued up to play.

…..

Half an hour later, the two were passing jokes back and forth, sleepy giggles and references whispered into the dark room, laptop forgotten and asleep before them, both too out of it to think of moving back to their rooms. Only to be broken up by a mewling yawn, Mari slumping further down, sleep finally pulling at her.

It didn't quite hit Tim that something about the situation was slightly off till Marinette curled into him from where he slouched into the corner of the couch, head dropping onto his chest.

Ah, Fuck. Damian was going to kill him.

Nudging her slightly till she hummed to him, he tried to gently wake her back up fully.

"Mari, shouldn't you go back to your room now?"

It had the opposite effect.

Mari sprung up, eyes wide, blush flushing up her cheeks, seemingly not having realized she had been cuddling up to him till just then.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! I keep forgetting you guys like warning beforehand. Either way I should have asked if you minded though. That was so invasive of me and the last thing I want is to invade your space when it's not warranted or wanted. I promise it won't happen again Tim, I'm so sorry."

Finally stopping to take a deep breath from her rambling, Tim jumped in, panicking to think he was causing her distress.

"No no, Marinette, it's fine! You're a very tactile person and frankly I don't mind it. I just know Damian wouldn't like finding you cuddling up to me, or anyone for that matter, especially in the middle of the night when he thought you were in your room, that's all."

That seemed to stop her in her tracks. Settling back down, she fixed him with a thrown look.

"I mean… I know Dami can be protective at times, but I don't think he'd be that upset by it. Maybe a touch put off, but I think he'd tease me more than anything?"

Now he was thrown for a loop. This went against everything he knew about his little brother… that could only mean bad things.

"... Really."

"Yeah, as I said, he knows I'm a cuddly person when I'm tired. Plus, your his brother. At least he knows and trusts you. He'd just make fun of me for being so clingy. Sorry again about that by the way."

Narrowing his eyes, Tim couldn't see a hint that she was lying, but still he had to push to be sure. The last thing he needed was Damian to feel like his position was being threatened. That's what sparked their rivalry the first time after all.

"Hmm... I took Damian to be the possessive type. Especially over someone he was seeing. Trust me, Mari, he's not going to like his girlfriend cuddling anyone. Especially not me."

"Holy Tikki, what?!"

"Tikki?"

" You think… you think Dami and I are dating?!?!"

"Be quiet, you're going to wake someone up!" He rushed out, trying to cover her mouth, only for her to evade, eyes blown wide with shock but still aware enough to dodge his grip.

"No, hold up. You seriously thought we were together?" She spoke in a startled tone, grabbing at his hands to make him stop reaching at her face and concentrate on her words.

Finally giving up on keeping her quiet, Tim actually started processing her words.

"You're… not?"

"No! Of course not! Did he say we were?"

"Well no but… I just assumed. He doesn't like anyone and yet acts like your his personal sunshine."

Giggling, she shook her head, settling back into the couch at his side.

"Yeah, that's only in front of others. Says no one needs to know what a chaotic being I am. His words not mine."

"Oh. So you guys really aren't..?"

"Nope," she chuckled, popping the p, slowly curling back into his side.

Stopping abruptly, she pulled back a bit and glanced up to him, blush dusting the top of her freckled cheeks.

"Is.. Is this okay?"

Now assured that he wouldn't be promptly attacked just for letting Marinette near him, he couldn't see why not. Plus, she obviously took comfort in it and needed sleep. Who knows if she'll find any alone in her room. Wrapping an arm around her and tugging her slowly down, he nodded.

"I already told you I don't mind. Plus, your warm."

Humming her thanks, she burrowed herself under his chin and promptly passed out, Tim following only moments after.

…..

Tim woke up late in the morning, having slid down the cushion and twisted up his limbs with Marinette's who was still half on top of him. By some stroke of luck, they hadn't been disturbed by anyone thus yet. (Dick had already passed through and took a picture to send to the group chat. Who knew the way to make Tim sleep was to pass out on top of him?) Feeling her shift, he looked down to see bleary blue eyes blinking back at him from under messy bangs. A small smile lit her lips and she moved up giving a light kiss to the underside of his jaw, before slowly getting up.

"Thanks Tim. Probably the best sleep I've had in a long time. We should nap sometime…. Maybe watch a movie first," she suggested, flushing but sending a coy, eager look his way.

Nodding, he could only think one thing.

'Welp. She's going to be the death of me."

#timari #timinette #dc x mlb #maribat

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lenniewip · 4 years

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Unknown (A Sterek Wrong Number/Celebrity AU)

11.09 PM Unknown Number

>I’m writing songs about you again.

11.20 PM Unknown Number

>its stiles btw.

>in case you deleted my number

>I did.

>I mean I deleted yours.

>but I still remember it apparently

11:41 PM Unknown Number

>I only have 2 lines so far

11:57 PM Unknown Number

>I bleed you from my veins.

>I grieve you like I love you.

>alone.

>its better with the chords.

>u were always better at writing lyrics than me

12:34 AM Unknown Number

>u were better everything than me

2:00 AM Unknown Number

>I hate that I miss you

2:07 AM Unknown Number

>do u want to hook up?

>I promise not to propose again

2:15 AM Unknown Number

>im sorry.

>ignore me.

>im drinking

Derek blinked bleary eyes. His phone screen was the only source of light in his room, as he read through the flurry text messages.

What the hell is a Stiles?

2:17 AM Unknown Number

<I think you have the wrong number

>Lydia?

<no

>oh thank fuck

>I mean

>I’m sorry

>for disturbing ur sleep

>but im just glad I didn’t drunk text my ex all of this

>bullet dodged right?

>is this what near death experiences feel like?

<I wouldn’t know.

>of course

>hey

>seeming as I have you here can I ask you a quick q?

>all my friends are asleep

<probably because its 3am

<everyone’s asleep

>2.39

>and ur not

>asleep that is

>so?

>I’ll take your silence as a go ahead

>what do you think?

>of the lyrics

<im the wrong person to ask

>never experienced heartbreak?

<no

<all song lyrics just look like bad poetry to me

>oh

>yeah I guess it does

>not everyone can be Rupi Kaur tho right?

<do you want to be rupi kaur?

>sure

>not to be dramatic or anything

>but

>I want to be anyone but me

>think id rather be someone like regina spektor tho

<regina spektor?

>singer/song writer

>shes my fucking inspiration

>her lyrics are like poetry to me

>you should listen to her music

<I dont really listen to music

>what the fuck?

>are you an alien?

<no?

>nice fucking try ET

>thats exactly what an alien would say

<…you got me there

>akdjfen

>is this you admitting I was right?

<no

<but this is me going to bed

<because its now 4AM

>already?

>fuck

>ive got an early start tomorrow

>good night random stranger

>and thanks

>for listening

>or reading ig

<good night

“You’re late.” Laura frowned, arms crossed.

“Are you going to let me in?” Derek grumbled, still feeling the affects of having stayed up until 4AM the previous night.

Laura didn’t argue she just stepped aside to let him through into her flat. “You’re grumpier than usual.” She noted.

“Didn’t sleep well.”

Derek hated the look she gave him then.

The look that said he was broken. The look that said she wanted to fix him.

“Is…Is it the nightmares again?” Laura’s voice dipped to a whisper, like the question alone would be enough to send him over the edge.

“No.”

An awkward silence defended over the two of them, neither knowing what to say.

Derek clung to the silence like a blanket, wishing things could go back to how they used to be. Back to when they knew how to speak to one another.

But this was enough.

It was enough to know that they were both trying. Failing. But trying.

2:40 PM Laura

>I’m here if you need to talk.

Derek isn’t good at art, but sometimes it’s the only way he can express himself. Words had never been his forte.

So instead he doodles.

Shitty toddler level doodles that he never shows anyone.

Sometimes he thinks if he could bring himself to show Laura she would like it. Maybe she would even understand it.

But there was a bigger chance that she wouldn’t, and he would feel even more like a stranger to his own sister than he already was.

10:18 PM Unknown Number

>I don’t remember it anymore

<You have the wrong number again

>No

>This is ‘not Lydia’ right?

<right

>So here’s the thing.

>I always thought if I needed to text her I could

>And I thought maybe I got her number wrong because I was drunk

>But I can’t remember it anymore

<Oh.

>I have some of her things still

>I don’t think I’ll ever get to return it now

>Unless she messages me first

<When did you two break up?

>Last year

>and I know what you’re thinking

>’it’s October’

>and I should be over her by now

>Trust me I know

>So you don’t need to lecture me

<I wasn’t going to

>Oh

<Stiles?

>That’s weird

<what is?

>I forgot I told you my name

<You should throw away the stuff she left behind.

>you’re right

>I don’t like it.

>but you’re right

>…thanks

<What for?

>for listening

>reading**

>my friends are pretty sick of hearing me complain

>so this is nice

<sure

<anytime

>dope

>no take backsies

<am I going to regret this?

>for definite

>you’re stuck with me now

That night Derek saves Stiles’ number as ‘Bad Poet’.

Stiles keeps messaging after that.

Stiles messages like they’ve been friends for years, and Derek very determinedly does not analyse why it is he always responds.

Even when there are messages dated from Laura from three days ago that he hasn’t even been able to bring himself to open yet.

He also ignores how when he’s messaging Stiles the gaping pit that had made residence in his chest feels just a little less inescapable.

Derek can’t bring himself to tell Stiles his name. He can’t bring himself open up, even though there’s a large part of him that wants to.

He’s not above admitting he’s scared.

Derek draws Stiles sometimes.

More accurately he draws a vague pair hands texting on a phone, because he has no idea what Stiles actually looks like.

Derek refuses to let himself dwell on that though, because they are happy drawings.

The pictures of Stiles are pretty much his only happy drawings right now.

They don’t always talk about Lydia.

Sometimes Stiles messages Derek song lyrics he’s working on.

Other times it’s memes, or just a bunch of emojis.

Once Stiles had just messaged him what Derek could only assume was a list of everything he had eaten that day.

Sometimes Stiles messages in rambles - and Derek can’t always keep up with the boy’s run away thoughts, but even then he never feels lost the way he does when he’s trying to interact with literally anyone else.

And sometimes it’s 2AM. Those are simultaneously Derek’s favourite and least favourite texts.

2:02 AM Bad Poet

>sometimes I feel like too much

>and too little

>at the same time

>u ever feel like that ET?

<not really

>its like I’m infinite, and meaningless

>like a never ending echo

>or a recurring decimal

>I just stretch on and on forever but theres no point to it

>I have no depth

<youre not meaningless

<you’re a rhythm.

<like breathing

>…

>was that a regina spektor reference?

<it might have been

>I thought you didn’t listen to music?

<well someone said her lyrics were like poetry

<so I thought I would check out a few songs

>well fuck

>what did you think?

<she’s good

>you spelt ‘amazing’ wrong

<I still prefer poetry

>of course you do

Derek stared at the texts an ache filling his chest.

Derek was the opposite of infinite. Everything he touched turned to flames.

10:30AM Bad Poet

<my sister bought me flower seeds

>I didn’t know you had a sister?

<she’s everything I have

>oh

<and I think she’s trying to trick me into therapy somehow

>…with flower seeds?

<yes

>you sound extremely paranoid

>maybe therapy wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you?

<shut up

>noted.

>keep me posted on how your gardening goes

>also

>as a side note

>you know you have me too right?

>if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m right here for you

<thanks

>anytime

On Derek’s birthday Laura insists the two of them spend the day together, and Derek knows better than to argue.

She buys him a cake and they spend hours sat next to one another silently. Two strangers desperately trying to keep hold of one another but with an ocean dividing them.

Once their family had been so alive.

And it was all Derek’s fault that was gone.

They both knew it.

Sometimes Derek wondered if Laura hated him as much as he did.

He was too scared to ask.

That night Derek chased the ache in his chest away with a drink.

And then several more followed.

1:14 AM Bad Poet

<seh haars me

>sorry bud, you’re going to have to try again

>try spell checking before hitting send

<she.hates mee

>who?

<larn

>are you drunk?

<yeh

<tyongs ndrf

*Out Going Call: Bad Poet*

The phone rings twice before being picked up. “Sorry. Stupid keyboard is so small. Impossible to type.” Derek mumbled, his words slightly muffled by his cheek being pressed into the sofa cushion.

“Wow. You’re really sloshed huh?”

“No.” Derek denied. “Just tipsy.”

“Right. So what was it you were trying to tell me? Someone hates you?”

“Laura.”

“Who’s Laura?”

“My sister.”

“Oh.”

“She looks at me like she wishes she could fix me.”

“That doesn’t sound like she hates you, bud.”

“She should. I can’t be fixed.”

“You’re right, because you’re not broken.”

Hearing Stiles say that Derek could almost believe it to be true.

“I mean it. You’re not broken. You’re just a different shape than you used to be. But the shape you are now is beautiful.”

Derek closes his eyes and lets the words wash over him. “Do you sing?” He finds himself asking.

“What?”

“I know you write songs, but do you ever sing?”

“Oh…” Stiles sounds uncomfortable. “I guess… Yeah. I do.”

Derek hummed in the back of his throat. “I bet you have a nice voice.”

“Th-thanks.”

Derek tried to say something else, but all that comes out is a yawn, which makes Stiles let out a jittery laugh.

Derek tries to memorise the sound of It, but it’s so fleeting, it’s already slipping away from him.

“I think you need to go sleep, ET.”

“Yeah.” Derek agrees.

“Goodnight bud.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Could you stay on the phone? Just for a bit longer.” Derek clutched on to the phone like if he could grip tightly enough it would make Stiles stay.

I don’t want to be alone. The words die on Derek’s tongue.

“Sure.” Stiles didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Sleep pulled at Derek’s consciousness, unravelling his grip on reality.

“Stiles?”

Stiles hummed in answer.

“Your shape is beautiful too.”

A small whimper came from the other end of the phone. “Thanks.”

7:50 AM Bad Poet

>how are you feeling today?

<better

>good <3

Derek holds his phone tightly and wishes that he had more to say. Just to keep the conversation going.

He also wishes (not for the first time) that Stiles was more than a faceless entity on the other end of the phone.

But it’s the first time he feels the want like a physical ache in his chest.

Derek had never been good with words, but if Stiles was here in front of him Derek would probably give him a hug.

But everything Derek touches eventually dies, and a larger part of him is relieved for the distance.

Derek plants the seeds his sister got him that day.

9:48 PM Bad Poet

>would it totally weird you out if I wanted to do another phone call?

>don’t feel like you need to say yes

>I just enjoyed talking to you

>and hearing your voice

>ugh.

>why are words so hard?

<I wouldn’t be opposed to a phone call

*Incoming Call: Bad Poet*

“Hey.” Derek feels breathless as he answers the phone, anxious excitement clawing it’s way up his throat.

“Hey.” Stiles sounds equally out of breath, and that helps.

Derek chews on his lip, scrambling for something to say. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles admitted. “Anything.”

“Helpful.” Derek said sarcastically.

“I mean. There’s one thing. I didn’t want to ask when you were drunk because it felt a little like taking advantage. And I don’t want you to think you have to answer-”

“Stiles.” Derek interrupts before Stiles could break into a full blown ramble.

“Tell me your name.” Stiles breaks. “Please.”

Anxiety grips his heart. But… he couldn’t stay scared forever.

“It’s Derek.”

“Derek.” Stiles repeats his name in a reverent whisper, as if committing it to memory.

And hearing Stiles say his name makes everything worth it.

Phone calls become a regular thing between the two of them over the next month. Always between late in the evening and the early hours of the day.

The next time Derek spirals he doesn’t drink before he calls Stiles, but he does cry on the phone.

The next morning he wakes up to a text from Stiles.

6:42 AM Bad Poet

>you need to talk to your sister

And Derek knows he’s right.

It’s not easy confronting Laura. He has two separate anxiety attacks on the walk to her apartment alone.

But he forces himself to take the dive.

“It’s okay if you hate me.” He tells her, even though it’s not okay. Laura’s hate might be the only thing in the world that could break him beyond repair.

Laura looks horrified as she stares at him. “I don’t- Obviously I don’t hate you Derek.”

“It’s my fault that they’re gone.” Derek addresses the elephant in the room.

If he hadn’t fallen in love with Kate.

If he hadn’t broken up with her, just to try and prove a point when she refused to say ‘I love you’ back…

There never would have been a fire.

Their family would still be here if it wasn’t for him.

“Fuck that!” Laura let out a harsh noise. “Derek, none of this was ever your fault. You were a kid, and even if you weren’t… You never set the fire.”

“I might as well have.”

“No. If anyone… I was your big sister- am your big sister. But I was so fucking wrapped up in myself. I didn’t even know about Kate.”

The last time Derek had seen Laura cry it had been at the funeral, so it took a second to fully sink in what he was seeing.

He found himself crying to.

“I’m so sorry, Der.”

Derek stumbled forwards pulling Laura into a crushing hug. Laura hugs him back just as tight.

They spend hours refusing to let go of one another.

He realises he fell asleep on Laura’s sofa when he woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. But he had no idea where it was, and he was too tired to move.

He feels Laura moving and the sound of the phone ringing gets louder before cutting off abruptly.

“Hello?”

“No - Derek’s asleep.”

“Maybe call at a more reasonable time?”

“Who is this?”

“Your voice sounds familiar.”

“Right.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Derek let sleep over take him once more.

2:29 AM Bad Poet

>sorry for calling so late

>you’re asleep so I’ll just take to you tomorrow

9:07 AM Bad Poet

<sorry, I was really tried

>no worries man

>you’re allowed to have a life outside of me

<was something wrong?

>no I was just bored, and didn’t realise how late it had gotten

>im fine

>how are you?

<im good actually

<I spoke to Laura

>yeah?

>I’m proud of you

>how’d that go?

<we both cried

<a lot

<and I ended up falling asleep on her couch

>look at you, opening up and shit.

>think I might cry now

<shut up

>literally never

>better men have tried and failed to silence me

2:40 PM Laura

>Want to see a movie on Friday?

<sure

One night Stiles calls Derek just to say his name in stupid ways, and laugh himself stupid after each one.

“Duhreek.”

“Doreck.”

“Fuck. I’m getting a stitch from laughing.”

“You’re so fucking dumb.” Derek is smiling as he said it.

“Deeruk.” Stiles wheezes out.

Derek just closes hie eyes and listens.

“I’m so fucking glad I know you, Stiles.” The words fall out of Derek’s mouth without much thought.

He only realises the weight of his words when Stile’s laughter pulls to a stop.

“I uh-” Stiles stammered. “Me too. Fuck. You’re the best thing to happen to me in…so fucking long. I’m glad I know you too Derek.”

Derek finally admits to himself that night that he’d fallen at least a little in love with the stranger from the unknown number.

He keeps trying to draw Stiles, but he can’t. Vague shapes just don’t cut it anymore.

He wants to map Stiles out with his eyes and translate it onto the page.

He wants to be able to see the smile behind the laughter.

He wants.

1:58 AM Bad Poet

>do you think you day we’ll actually meet?

>maybe not intentionally

>maybe one day we’d pass each other in the streets and not even know

>maybe we already have

Derek couldn’t imagine a scenario where he wouldn’t notice Stiles.

<is there ever a moment when you’re not talking?

<I think id recognise your voice and know it was you

>maybe your face would make me speechless ;)

<I think id still know

<but if you want to be sure… I could send you a picture?

<of me

>dkfajd

>for reals?

>you would do that?

>you?

<well…not for free

>there’s always a catch

>what do you want?

>my soul?

>a blood debt?

>you can have whatever it is

<I meant you’d have to send me a picture too

<geez stiles

The next text takes an unnervingly long time to come through.

>I could do that

>a photo for a photo

>I kind of look like shit rn

>so no judging me

Derek spends the next two minutes fussing and fidgeting to take a good photo. No matter what angle he took it from the bags under his eyes were noticeable, and so was the week’s worth of stubble he had yet to shave off.

And maybe this was a terrible, awful, idea.

But Derek would send one hundred bad pictures if it meant getting to see one of Stiles.

He forced himself to press send on the last picture he took.

As he pressed send another photo came in.

Derek’s fingers shook as he hit the button to download the image.

His heart stopped.

Stiles was beautiful in every sense of the word, and Derek found himself unable to look away. Even when he heard the small dings of incoming messages.

But he couldn’t ignore them for long, because it was Stiles. And when ever Stiles messaged Derek had to answer.

>Fucking hell

>are you for real?

>you gave me a heart attack

>am I being catfished right now?

>when do you think you were going to tell me you’re the most fucking beautiful man to exist ever?

>how the hell to you look like that as 2AM!?

>Derek

>oh my god

>you gotta respond my dude because I’m freaking out a little bit

>still there?

>did my selfie scare you away?

>I would have tried harder for a nice photo if I knew I was talking to an adonis

>Derek?

<still here

>of thank fuck

>so…

<so?

>come on

>your going to give me a complex

>the selfie…was it okay?

>I know it’s not much

>but we can’t all be greek gods

<its beautiful

<you’re beautiful, stiles

>oh

>thanks

Derek is so far gone that he makes the picture of Stiles the home screen on his phone.

9:49 AM Bad Poet

<Laura wants me to meet her boyfriend

<this is all your fault

>how is this my fault?

<because she never wanted to introduce us before

<and then you got me to talk to my sister

<and now she wants me to meet him

>…and this is a bad thing?

<yes

>because?

<I don’t make good first impressions

<it’s going to be awkward

>yeah probably

<you’re not helpful

>I wasn’t trying to be ;)

>have fun, Derek!

Meeting Laura’s boyfriend wasn’t as awkward as Derek thought it was going to be. But it was strange.

Derek hadn’t been expecting to meet someone so soft and kind. He was nothing like any one that Laura had dated before.

But he also wasn’t used to seeing Laura smile as much as she did around him.

Maybe not all change was bad.

Derek tells Laura about Stiles by accident. Or more accurately he mentions Stiles once by accident (not even by name) and Laura had badgered him until he admitted that he had made a friend through a wrong number.

“There’s a lot of weirdos out there.”

“I know.”

God did Derek ever know.

But Stiles is different.

“Just…be careful.”

“I am being. I promise.”

Laura reluctantly lets it go after that. “So…what’s he like?”

“He’s…he’s like bad poetry.”

“Oh god. You’re in love with him aren’t you?”

Derek can’t bring himself to deny it, but he does tell Laura to shut up.

Derek fully embraces being in love with Stiles on the day he tells Stiles about his drawings. He’d never told anyone about them before - not even Laura. But telling Stiles had been easy.

‘It reminds me of line art’ Stiles had said when Derek had sent him a photo of the doodle he had been working on. “I love it’.

A warmth flutters through Derek’s veins.

It all goes sideways on the day Laura goes on Derek’s phone to check the time.

She’d raised one eyebrow at him looking amused.

“I thought you didn’t listen to music?” She said, a teasing note to her voice.

“I don’t.” Derek shrugged.

“A huh. So why do you have a picture of Stiles Stilinski as your wallpaper?” She asks.

It’s so startling to hear Stiles name coming out of Laura’s mouth that Derek’s brain refuses to function properly. “How do you know Stiles?” He asks weakly.

Laura laughs. “He’s not exactly a niche celebrity Der. He was a really famous YouTuber before he started selling albums.”

Derek doesn’t know what to say to that. He blinks as his world slowly unravels before him.

No.

She had to be wrong, because Derek couldn’t be in love with a celebrity. Stiles couldn’t be…

“Hey are you okay? You look really sick?”

“He’s famous?” His throat is dry.

“Yes? Are you okay? What’s wrong? You’ve got to speak to me Der. Use your words.”

Derek just shakes his head because he can’t.

“It’s him.” He manages to get out.

“What are you talking about?”

“Laura. It’s him.”

It takes a moment to click but Derek knows when it does because a look of thunderous wrath takes over Laura’s face.

“I’ll kill him.” She seethes, shaking with anger. “What kind of fucking punk thinks that this is a good prank to play?”

“What?”

“No one is getting away with catfishing you, Der. I’m going to hunt this fucker down, and then I’ll rip him so many new ones that he going to look like SpongeBob when I’m done with him.”

And god, Derek hadn’t even considered the thought that Stiles might not even be Stiles. The thought of Stiles being a liar…

The gape in his heart grows a little bit bigger.

And it all falls apart.

It takes hours before Derek can convince himself to confront Stiles.

11:08 PM Bad Poet

<you’re stiles stilinki

>fuck

(And yeah, it was really him).

>how did you find out?

<Laura

>I was going to tell you

<Were you?

>Yes

>I’ve wanted to for ages

>It just never felt like the right time to bring it up

<I wish you had decided on the right time was sooner

>Me too

>I’m sorry

>Please don’t hate me

Derek did not think it was possible for him to hate any part of Stiles.

<I don’t

>Thank fuck

>seriously

>can I call you?

<sure

Derek closed his eyes after sending the text and waited for Stiles to ring. A heartbeat later his ringtone sounded off.

“Hey.”

“You believe me right?” And Stiles sounds more frantic than Derek had ever heard him before.

“I believe you, Stiles.”

“Are you sure, because I can prove it if you want? I can do a video call? Or I can tweet literally anythi-”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Stiles lets out a small whine, that reaches through the phone line and yanks at Derek’s already tattered heart, unraveling him just a little more.

“Meet me.” Stiles said, taking Derek by surprise.

“What?”

“Please. I meant to throw a please in there, I’m just really fucking nervous right now. Meet me please. In real life. I uh- I was going to ask when I finally told you about the whole being a celebrity thing. It’s still weird to say that out loud. That’s part of why it was so hard to tell you. But the point was you beat me to the punch with the whole reveal thing, but I still wanted to ask.”

“Stiles…”

“And it’s not that I was trying to use my influence or fame to pressure you into meeting me. I just wanted to be in a space where we were one hundred per cent honest with one another before I asked you. You can still say no. Of course you can, I don’t know why I’m- my point is I hope you don’t say no.”

Derek feels his heart break in two.

“Stiles…I can’t.”

“Oh.”

He hadn’t fully realised just how many worlds apart the two of them were when he had fallen in love with Stiles. It felt even more impossible than it had before.

“I’m sorry.” The words leave him feeling hollow.

“No. Don’t apologise. This is just me getting carried away. It’s okay.”

I love you. The words never leave Derek. They can’t leave him.

There was no way this could work, and he was far too scared of breaking the tentative connection they had with his useless words.

It was better for him to just… fall out of love.

6:17AM Laura

<it’s really him

>are you sure

<I’m sure

>what are you going to do?

<nothing

>Derek you’re in love with him

<I’m aware

<it doesn’t matter

<it wouldn’t ever work

>I’m sorry

<don’t be

<I’m going to be fine

>Im coming over with wine

That night Derek fills pages and pages of his notebook with drawings of Stiles.

When he gets a message from Stiles at 11PM- for the first time since they started messaging- Derek leaves it unopened.

He never ignores a message again after that, and life moves on. Stiles still messages him all the time, but he never asks to call anymore.

Derek misses his voice so much that he goes onto youtube and listens to his music.

He buys all three albums Stiles released and it still doesn’t feel like enough.

He fills an entire notebook with doodles of Stiles.

It’s still not enough.

1:11 PM Bad Poet

>I wrote you a song

>I know you don’t listen to music

>but it felt weird to not a least send you a link

>bad poetry at 2:00am

The link leads Derek to a youtube video of Stiles holding a ukulele and staring with a soft smile at the camera.

“Hey guys. It’s been a while, huh? But I guess I finally found inspiration. So here we go.”

The song is beautiful, but even more beautiful than that was Stiles.

When the song reached the end Derek doesn’t hesitate to hit replay.

He listens to the song ten times before he realises he’s crying - and he knows that he’s never going to ‘get over’ Stiles because he doesn’t want to.

3:00 PM Laura

>have you seen the video?

<he sent me a link

<he wrote a song for me Laura

<I love him so fucking much and he wrote a song for me

>fuck

<what do I do?

>what do you want to do?

<I don’t know

>I think you should look at his twitter

>I wasn’t going to say anything because you said you wanted to get over him

>but I think you need to see it

>@stilesstilinki

@stilesstilinski

I want to hug him

@stilesstilinski

Get you a guy that will stay up with you until 4AM talking about literally anything

@stilesstilinski

Why do I alway fall for people so far out of my league? rip me I guess.

@stilesstilinski

He makes me want to write poetry

Derek spends hours scrolling through Stiles’ twitter.

He scrolls far enough back that he gets to the part of his timeline where his twitter is littered with pictures of Lydia, which causes the ache in Derek’s chest to grow. But he can’t stop looking because Stiles looks so happy.

And Derek falls impossibly more in love.

He lets himself acknowledge for the first time that Stiles might love him back.

And everything else?

It’s worth it.

Because Stiles is worth everything to Derek.

2:00 AM Bad Poet

<so I looked at your twitter

>fuck.

>how much did you see?

<all of it

>tight

>please excuse me while I go die now

>bye

<don’t leave yet

<I had something I wanted to ask you

>did you want me to delete the tweets?

>I can do that

>I’ll just delete the whole account

>I am my own worst enemy so this won’t be a problem

>actually Jackson Whittemore is my worst enemy

>but I’m a close second

<stiles?

>yup?

<Will you go on a date with me?

>alkdjf

>yes?

>Ofc yes?

>are you being serious?

>because this would be a cruel prank if you’re not serious

<I’m serious

>yes.

>yes. yes. yes. yes. yes. yes.

>holy shit

>theres no fucking universe where I say ‘no’ to that question from you

>im so fucking in love with you

>is it too soon to say that?

>I don’t even care

>I’m speaking my truth

>you obviously don’t have to say it back

>im going to woo you so hard Derek

>you’ll have to love me back eventually

>I’m going to write you poetry

>hell I’ll even read poetry for you

>ill give the whole fucking moon to you

<why would I want the moon?

<im not gru?

>despicable me

>that was a despicable me reference.

>you don’t listen to music, but you watch despicable me?

>you’re such an enigma to me Derek

>god I love you so much

<stiles?

>too much?

<no

<I don’t think I could ever have too much of you

<I love you too stiles

<so much

<I just don’t want you to get your hopes up

<I might not be able to live up to it in real life

>impossible

<seriously stiles

>I am being serious

>I’m already in love with you Der

>you don’t have to do anything more than you’ve already done

>you could wear a potato sack, and spend the whole night not saying anything at all

>and I would still be in love with you

>all you have to do now is show up

<…I can do that

>perfect

TWO YEARS LATER

@stilesstilinski

Hey @JacksonWhittemore, remember when you told me I would die alone? Well I just got engaged to the love of my life. So checkmate fucker.

#sterek #eternal sterek #what am i even doing?#i just spent the last two days writing this and banging my head against the wall and nothing else #should i write this into a full fic one day?#i probably wont #hope you guys enjoy #sterek drabble #5k words of them being idiots #i cut so much out how is this still 5k?#stiles stilinki #derek hale #laura is the only other character that makes an appearance #im supposed to be sleeping #but here we are ig #texting #wrong number #celebrity stiles

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goodgodbean · 4 years

Text

East To West - Calum Hood

Hey guys! I got the cutest anon this past week! It should be on my profile if your curious or linked here! They were saying how they don’t usually read OC and I explained my decision to make an OC vs using Y/N. [Spoiler alert: it was so i could add more description to the character’s likes/dislikes] I also wanted to point out that i’m trying to limit my describing of my OC (Becca) so anybody reading could still imagine whoever they wanted (maybe themselves??). I hope you guys enjoy Part 4!

+++

Masterlist

Part 1 + Part 2 + Part 3 + Part 5

+++

Part 4. Saturn

He couldn’t call her.

Every time he tried, the breath swept out of him. His lungs stilled, desperate for a breath that would never come. His heart would race against the minutes until death, trying to keep him alive. He started referencing her number as The Holy Seven in his brain. The case file detailing his insanity has grown enough to call him a criminal.

The number is scribbled on almost every stray piece of paper in the house. As if he didn’t memorize it the moment he saw it.

Calum tries to lean back on his couch, before realizing how uncomfortable it is. It’s a modern style, extra long bottom cushion with a ridiculously low back, the worst design in Calum’s opinion. The decorator chose it to match the modern, white monochrome look to the house. The lack of color drives him crazy, like he’s been only in one room while walking through the whole house. All the furniture was low to the ground and designed so you could see the whole room from any position. The living room they were in had big floor to ceiling windows that had a dark blue tint. When the sun hit it right, it felt like you were sitting at the bottom of the ocean. The walls were mostly bare, spare the odd monochrome painting that probably cost too much in Calum’s opinion.

Luke looked more than natural in the space, somehow making the awful couches not look so bad. A fleeting thought - maybe Calum should just give the house to him. Luke puffs the weed. His dirty secret only came out at Calum’s house. Luke usually blamed Calum for being the stoner when Layla, Luke’s girl, would ask. Layla quit smoking when her brother was killed in a car accident while under the influence. One of the boundaries Layla set when she and Luke started dating was that Luke quit. Luke agreed, he’s been trying to get into her pants for weeks. It never took Luke so long to win over a girl and the chase was driving Luke insane.

When Luke came back that first night smelling like weed, he had blamed Calum. Calum never corrected him, so the running lie had begun. Calum had smoked a couple of times, but when the thrill of doing something slightly illegal wore off, he realized he didn’t even like how it made him feel. Every time he tried to relax while under the influence, his anxiety sky rocketed. It wasn’t worth it to Calum.

Luke passes the blunt to Ashton who also inhales some. Unlike Luke, Ashton’s girlfriend is sitting right next to Ashton. Ashton’s arm is around her shoulders as he holds the blunt up for her to take. It wasn’t much of a boy’s night like they said it would be. They convinced Calum to invite them over by saying they were going to have a boys night and bond a little before they go into the studio next week. Calum had blindly believed them, desperately believing that they finally saw how unhappy he was. Next thing Calum knew, the joint was being passed around and nobody noticed that Calum never took a hit.

The clock was closing in on midnight. Not exactly late by their standards, but enough time had pass to make Calum want to burst. Burst in anger, frustration, or maybe it was just sadness. Calum excuses himself, standing and walking up the stairs to his room.

It was then that he called the number. There was nobody else to call at that point.

The phone rang and rang. Calum held his breath for another disappointment. Why would she even pick up? It was during the custom voicemail greeting that someone picked up. Calum hadn’t even realized that was possible.

“Hello?” The voice was like molasses, slow and riddled with sleep.

“Hey,” Calum brilliantly answered.

“Benny? Is that you? He didn’t call yet and we do still have a three hour time difference so I’m going back to bed,” Her voice was rough and low. Something in Calum told him she only spoke quickly so she could hang up faster.

“Actually - it’s not Benny. But I did forget about the time difference.” Calum cursed himself in his head for forgetting she lived in New York. Its 3am for her. She was definitely asleep.

“Um who is this then?” She seemed a little bit more awake now, but definitely still groggy.

“It’s..uh…Calum. Calum Hood?” He said it like a question. Unsure of how else to phrase it.

Becca flips the light switch and drops into a chair. The kitchen illuminates in a murky yellow color, but she feels a little bit more awake.

“Uh…” She breathes out. It’s her turn to talk. “I’m Becca, Becca Woods. I’m sure you know that by now though,” her voice is too breathy and she’s rambling but she can’t seem to stop. “I heard you have a picture of me? That sounds creepy. Well I have a drawing of you too. Does that make it less creepy? Um…sorry. But yeah, sounds like I should be paying that psychic for drawing me and giving it to you. I mean - I didn’t! I didn’t pay her at all. Well I did pay her for the picture of you but….yeah. I didn’t pay her off.” The disaster grew with every word she spoke.

He lets out a low chuckle over the phone. Maybe she wasn’t that much of a disaster? “Love, I know.” A breath across the line, “I know.” Another breath, “I was hoping to get to know you? Um, I didn’t really think I’d get this far and that you’d be real. But…yeah? You live in New York? Maybe you can come out here or I’ll go there? I’m not good at the whole phone thing.” He slowly chuckles.

Becca had to remind herself to breath for a moment. “Yeah, we should! I -uh. Schedules for work just came out. I can’t request off until next month. Um - I don’t even have the money for a flight. I’m sorry. I’m rambling. and I’m tired. I’m sorry, I’m not exactly sure what I’m saying -“

Before Becca could keep going, Calum just breaths another laugh. “Don’t - don’t worry. We can figure it all out later. Just go to sleep, Love.”

“I-uh-okay. Goodnight…Calum.”

“Goodnight Becca.” A beat. “Thank you for picking up.”

“Well, that’s what you do when the phone rings.”

Becca places the phone back on the hook in the kitchen. She’s so tired, she doesn’t even realize that she didn’t remember to give Calum her cell phone number. Becca just stumbles back to her bed and collapses into a dreamless sleep.

Calum stares at the cell phone in his hands like it was the map to Atlantis. Confused on how he had gotten it, but he wasn’t going to let it go now. Something in him lit up from talking to her. A spark so small, someone like Luke wouldn’t have even noticed it. But when your chest is hollow and dark, the little light is more like a beacon of hope.

Calum descends the stairs back to the living room. He collapses on the sofa, the conversation around him not even faltering. It didn’t bother him as much this time though.

Becca messed up about 4 drinks the next morning, burnt her hands three times and overcharged a regular by double (he thankfully wasn’t mad). The regular, George, leaned up against the counter near the espresso machine as Becca steams the milk for his sugar free vanilla latte. Becca barely makes eye contact with him, a far cry from their usual banter. George is not quite middle-aged yet, in his 30’s with a 15 year old daughter (a result of a teen pregnancy), but still has a widow peak starting to show between his fine hair. George studies her, concerned, as she pours his latte a little too quickly making the latte art muddle together. Becca just pushes the drink across the counter.

George stares down at his drink, “Now I know something is wrong. You okay Becca?” His voice is slightly strained and awkward. Even though every morning, for the couple minutes it takes Becca to make his drink, they talk and banter a little, they have never talked about anything remotely serious. As it goes with most customers.

Becca is already starting on the next drink order as she speaks, “Yeah. Got a call at like 3am last night and I’m trying to figure out if it was a dream or not. Ha.” Her laugh is more like a hard breath, but it does the trick.

“Check your recent calls on your phone?” George awkwardly stands there, gripping his drink, not sure if he should leave or not.

“Picked it up on my old landline. No caller ID or way to check past calls. It’s a miracle that thing has voice mail,” Becca says absentmindedly, dumping espresso out of the basket. She grinds more espresso, filling the basket again.

“Is everything okay?” George is still hovering.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. Just - unexpected and weird. Feels more like a fever dream than a call.” Becca pauses for a moment. “It feels okay and not - all at the same time.” Becca positions the milk wand into the container and turns it on.

“I hope it works out!” George calls over the espresso machine. He turns to leave, and just before he walks out the door Becca responds.

“Me too!”

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furvios · 5 years

Text

Late Night Visit

Pairing: Leviathan X Reader

Summary: A new game gets released and just arrived at the House of Lamentation, meaning it was time to grind and not get any sleep for Leviathan. It was 3AM, about to be 4 soon but he gets a surprise visit.

"Come on, come on." Leviathan bit his lower lip, focusing on the screen as he tries to kill the last few remaining zombies. "Come on, Levi. Just two more-"

"Victory! Stage clear."

Leviathan gets on his legs and jumps enthusiastically, almost forgetting he was wearing headphones. "7 more stages and I can finally get a ticket to meet Idol☆Group." He exclaimed loudly before sitting back down on his leather office chair. Leviathan grabs the drink by his nightstand and takes a long sip from the straw. "Ah," he says victoriously, his fist in the air, "another one for Leviathan!" He cheered.

Knock, knock, knock..

The demon freezes for a few seconds, looking at the door. He shrugs it off and was about to wear his headphones again but the knocks kept going, but not the violent knocking he would usually get from his brothers. "No, I'm not keeping my voice down." Was all he said before wearing his headphones and was about to click "Match Start" until he heard a gentle voice come thru the door.

"Levi, it's me. I was just wondering if I could have a few minutes with you." The demon wasn't too pleased. He didn't reply to the human and just clicked his tongue, "MC, I'm busy. Bother me another time, I can't risk losing my streak." He whines and hears the human heave a breath, "I know that you're busy. But please just let me in for a few minutes? I just need to say my thoughts out even though you don't have to listen. I just need someone present near me. Please, Levi?"

The demon sat there, rubbing his entire face in frustration. "If I let you in will you leave me alone?" He said unpleased. "Again, you don't need to listen to me. I just need someone around me right now." The demon takes his headphones off one last time and gets up, dragging his feet towards the door groaning silently to himself. The moment he opens the door, you shift your body inside and immediately land face first on the demon's bed. "What the-"

"Don't mind me." You said to the demon reassuringly but he wasn't convinced. Your sniffles could be clearly heard from the door where Leviathan was standing. "Can you not.. umm, get my bed all wet though?" You sit up, looking down at the wet spots on the demon's bed sheets, "fuck, I'm sorry." You sniffled, wiping away the tears in your eyes. "Whatever you're gonna blab about, make it fast. I don't want to get distracted by your emotions. Like I'm gonna listen anyway." He says and closes the door behind him, sitting back down on his chair and getting right back into the game.

"Levi, I don't know what to do. I was told this morning by our Professor privately that I'm failing Chemistry. I don't know what to do, what if Lucifer finds out or even Diavolo that my grades aren't at the best shape." You let out immediately without hesitation. "I don't want to leave this place." You said, your voice getting softer and unstable. "I don't want to leave the Devildom yet. Especially if it means to leave you guys." You grab onto one of the demon's pillows and hug it tightly, "I don't want to leave.."

Leviathan was silent the entire time, eyes on his screen, only MC's voice and the sound of Leviathan's mouse clicking were the only noises filling the room up.

"I love you all too much." You said with a sincere smile on your face, a chuckle leaving your lips. Leviathan's body relaxes a bit when those words left your mouth. He couldn't help but smile a bit. "I'm gonna miss Beel entering my room or waking me up just to ask for food or to cook him food."

"Don't get me started with Belphie's last minute sleepovers when he gets a nightmare." You chuckled, feeling your face getting warm a bit. "And Asmo's beauty talk this and that. Oh! And also Satan's book recommendations." You continued to ramble more and more, losing yourself in your train of thought. "Gonna miss Lucifer and Mammon arguing every single day too about something Mammon always ended up causing."

You were busy rambling, but little did you know Leviathan was burning inside with anger. Envy. The game he was playing got more violent than it was to begin with and was now killing more and more zombies, his eyes glaring at the screen as his body tenses up with aggression. "And I can't forget about y-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you're gonna miss my brothers. Every. Single. One. Of. Them." His clicking gets more and more aggressive each word that leaves his lips. "Levi-" he clicked his tongue, "I'm glad you're failing. So I won't be able to see your stupid face ever again. Good riddens."

"Victory! Stage Clear."

Leviathan looks down, heaving a deep breath. "What's the point. I'm always gonna be no one's favorite. An outcast. Like always. I'm used to it anyway. I should be, right?" He talks to himself for a few seconds before his body gives in. "Are you done?" He asked you, but his eyes didn't leave the screen.

Then it hits you. The otaku third-born was getting envious. The Avatar of Envy was silent now. No words left his lips.

"Y'know, I thought you would at least miss me in some way. Maybe just a little, I was hoping. Turns out I can never have any expectation. Even it is as little as dust." He grabs his drink and sucks ever last bit of it before tossing it across the room in anger.

The demon continues to sulk by his desk silently. "Stupid human. I can never trust them. Or anyone. They're useless, wastes of space, and I wish they could just disap-" his thoughts were interrupted by a warm feeling around his neck, making the demon's eyes grow wide and his ears reddening immediately. "I'm sorry if I made you upset." You said to him, almost in a whispering tone. Tingles down his spine as he felt your warm breath brush against his sensitive neck.

"I didn't wanna start off complimenting you because I thought that would make you uncomfortable.. so I was gonna talk about you last." You tried to explain to him. "MC-" he stops himself and shakes his head, continuing on his game.

"Please don't ignore me." You whined to the demon who was clearly embarrassed, nervous, and anxious, but tried to keep it cool nonetheless. You walk away a bit and made the demon worry. "Did they leave already? What have I done. I shouldn't have done that. Maybe I should've." He thought.

Suddenly you went by his side and attempted to get on top of him while he was in a sitting position, mid-game. "What are you doi-" his eyes widened while his entire face started to look like a tomato. You faced him and sat on his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around his body.

"Are you still gonna ignore me?" You asked him, almost laughing. Leviathan rolled his eyes at you, now resting his chin on your shoulder while you did the same for him. "If you won't listen to me, then that's good. At least I can say all these wonderful things about you without you finding out or getting freaked out about it, you dork." You teased the demon, almost tempting him.

"No matter what you say or anyone says, you're always gonna be a wonderful and caring person in my eyes. Yeah, you may be grumpy, weird, and get envious at times, but that's what makes you special and unique!" You laughed while he was silent as ever. "You might not have a lot of confidence like your brothers, but that doesn't mean I can't encourage you, support you, and love you! You're a wonderful demon, Levi. I want you to know that...."

Leviathan manages to smile, "I.. feel the same way about you, MC." He clears his throat, "I'm not the best at expressing. I'm not the most experienced when it comes to talking about feelings, and I'm gonna hate myself so hard for saying such a normie thing, but" he clears his throat again, caughing up a bit, "you're special to me, MC." He manages to say.

"We might have only just gotten closer because of the whole Mammon's credit card fiasco and the whole pact thing and I'm ashamed to say that we didn't even get on the right terms at first. But I'm glad we went past that and can now consider ourselves friends, partners, and maybe even.."

"Soulmates."

The room was silent which worries him. "Fuck, did I over so it? I'm sorry. MC?" He calls for you but no response. Your quiet little snore made Leviathan's insides melt, making him smile like an idiot. He puts his headphones down and tries to carry you. Because of your arms and legs wrapped around him, it was an easier and successful transfer. The demon places you on his bed and tucks you in, sitting right beside your sleeping beauty.

He plays with strands of your hair, caressing and stroking your facial features that was fascinating to him. This was the first time the demon was this close to you. Or anyone at all. He didn't want to leave or didn't want time to continue on. Leviathan wanted life to be this calming, relaxing... with you. He lands a peck on your forehead, "I love you." He says.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #leviathan #fanfiction #obey me leviathan #cute #soft #mammon #lucifer #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #x reader

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ichliebeschwanz · 6 years

Text

title: dreaming

fandom/ship: hetalia/gerita

genre: drabble

"Eehehehe!"

Romano snarled in irritation, kicking at his brother's shins again. His brother mumbled and shifted in his sleep, but didn't wake.

"Germanyyy, I'm getting tired from all this marching, it's been hooooours, let's stop and have some fun now, ve. Look, look, this is the perfect spot . . ."

"Shut. UP," Romano growled, squashing his pillow onto his own head, trying to drown out the noise. Bad enough that Veneziano rambled nonstop while he was awake, but the fact that he was constantly doing that while asleep too was just too fucking much for him. Especially since he was usually rambling about that stupid potato-obsessed freak.

Several minutes passed. To Romano's immense relief, it was in slience. Gradually, he relaxed, hoping he'd finally get the the chance to fall asleep before the moron next to him started back up again.

Romano was drifting gently, hovering between the realms of wake and sleep, when a mumbling voice next to him snapped him out of it again.

"Germanyyyy . . ."

Oh, for fuck's sake. Romano squinted his eyes tightly shut and sighed. Should he shake the idiot awake again? It didn't seem to do much good. He would always fall back asleep again in just a few minutes and just resume babbling.

"Oooh, Germany . . . mmmm, yes . . ."

Romano paled a little. He didn't like how that last part had sounded.

"Aaah . . . ngggh. D-d-dio santo, Germany . . ."

Yeah okay no, that sounded gross. Romno grabbed his pillow and whacked at his brother with it, hard.

"Wake up, idiot!"

Veneziano made a loud noise, so Romano assumed smacking him with the pillow had been sufficient for waking him. However, he soon learned that sadly, he was mistaken.

"Cazzo. Harder, Germany, harder . . ."

Romano, horrified, yanked at the covers til his brother went flying off the bed.

"STOP IT YOU SICK POTATO-SUCKER!"

Italy cried out as he hit the floor, startled and shocked, looking around in confusion.

"Wh-what . . . what?"

"You're banned from bed until you can stop fantasizing about your gross, stupid boyfriend!"

Italy gazed up at the angry man, still entirely confused.

"Romano? Why are you yelling at me? I don't understand . . ."

"Don't play dumb with me! You know exactly why I'm yelling!! Go finish your nasty dreams on the couch!"

Go finish his . . . dreams? Italy thought a moment. He felt vague flashes of memory.

"I guess I was dreaming, ve. It was nice, I think. Oh, and Germany was there. He was . . .he . . ."

As he trailed off, his eyes widened a little and a blush crept up slowly over his face--

"Uhh . . ."

"DON'T FREAKING TELL ME ABOUT IT, JUST LEAVE!"

Germany fumbled around for his bathrobe as the doorbell rang again. He finally located it and tossed it on. He abandoned his search for his slippers and quickly descended the stairs instead, calming his barking dogs on the way.

When he opened the door, he was surpirsed to find Italy standing there. The surprise wasn't so much at seeing Italy showing up at his house at 3am. The surprise was more in finding him actually ringing the doorbell instead of just . . . showing up in his bed somehow.

He even was dressed in his little striped pajamas, rather than buck-naked. Germany looked him over with a concerned eye.

"Italy? Are you all right?"

The country nodded.

"Hi Germany. Could I sleep here tonight? Brother kicked me out of bed and told me to sleep on the couch but our couch has a lumpy cushion and I can't fall asleep on it."

Wordlessly, Germany stood to one side and ushered Italy to come in. Italy grinned and bounded into the house.

After locking the door again, Germany turned and watched Italy playing with the lab for a bit. The odd man had apparently forgotten his troubles in the blink of an eye. Germany was almost reluctant to remind him, but cleared his throat.

"Italy, why did your brother refuse to allow you access to your own bed?"

Italy, smooshing the dog’s face goofily, glanced up.

"Oh, um. Sometimes I talk in my sleep and it wakes him up. You don't mind though, do you Germany?"

Germany brushed back his messey, bedraggled hair as he thought. Cetainly, it was not uncommon to hear Italy quietly mumbling as he slept, but he could hardly imagine anyone finding it disruptive. If anything, it was just sort of endearing and adorable.

"E-er," Germany started, trying to shut down his train of thought,

"I don't mind. But I am a heavy sleeper, so not much bothers me."

Italy looked very happy with this reponse.

"~Aah! You're way much more fun to sleep with. I wish I could sleep here all the time."

"Let's not make it a habit," Germany cautioned. It was already dangerously approaching a habit at the rate Italy showed up here.

"Would you like anything to snack on?" he asked, changing the subject. Food was pretty much always a safe bet with Italy.

"Do you have any of those cookies left?"

Several minutes later, Italy was perched on a stool at the kitchen counter nibbling on a cinnamon cookie while Germany heated some chocolate and milk over the stove.

"Germany always makes the best hot chocolate."

He frowned as he whisked the milk carefully.

"I don't do anything special."

"You must do something, it's always extra strong and nice."

He dotted a few drops of vanilla extract in and continued stirring.

"Really, it's a simple recipe, I think you give me too much credit."

"Hmm . . . you made these cookies too, didn't you?"

Germany glanced over at him.

". . .yes."

"And they're amazing too! Germany is a wonderful cook. You don't want to admit it?"

Germany stared down into the pot of hot chocolate, embarassed at the praise.

"I just follow recipies very precisely," he insisted stubbornly.

Italy laughed.

"We should cook together sometime, we would make great things together. I can show you the bolognese recipe I use when I make you those dinners."

Germany looked at him a moment, his heart smooshing into a dumb little mush. He'd always been reluctant to admit his fondness for baking and cooking, and certainly didn't think he'd measure up to Italy's talents in the kitchen. But Italy wished to actually collaborate? And share his family recipes? It was . . . touching, honestly.

"I'd like that," he answered gently, pouring out the chocolate into two mugs and sliding one over to Italy.

"Here. Be sure to drink it before it gets cold."

"Ow ow ow ow ow! It's too hot!"

"Nonsense. I used a thermometer."

Italy whined, still trying to drink it but failing.

"Aah, ooh! But it buuuurns! Blow on it for me?"

Germany sighed, but he took Italy's mug anyway and blew at the steam wafting off it. He doubted it made much difference, but after a minute handed it back to Italy, which seemed to satisfy him.

"Ah, thank you Germany~"

He sipped gingerly at the hot cocoa and then reported cheerfully,

"Perfetto!"

Germany gave a small nod of satisfaction, and then sipped his own drink. He made a careful mental note to reduce the temperature by five degrees next time.

"Do you and your brother fight often like this?"

Italy glanced up at him with his bright amber eyes, as if confused, but then seemed to remember. He laughed a little and busied himself with dunking his cookie in his hot chocolate.

"Oh, eh heh, you don't need to worry. My brother loves me very much, he's just hot-blooded. I think yelling is one of his favorite things."

"Hm."

Germany sipped his cocoa and settled down on a stool across from Italy.

"I can understand, I suppose. My brother and I don't always get along very smoothly either."

Italy nodded vigorously.

"Brothers are just like that. It is how they show they care, I think."

Germany briefly pondered some of his own family bickerings.

"Maybe. I always thought it was because I was so different from my brother. Sometimes it's hard to believe we're related."

"Mmm, yeah . . .that's true."

"Actually," Germany added,

"I thought much the same when I met your brother. It was very strange to see you both. He's so . . . . dour. And you're so . . . ah . . ."

Italy leaned his chin on a hand, looking at him eagerly.

"Yes?"

Germany cursed himself as he struggled to knit words together.

"Um . . . you're. Well, you know, you're very Italy."

Italy frowned in confusion.

"Well we're both Italy, actually--"

"Grahh, that's not what I-- I just mean, you're completely different. He can be so bleak and bitter. You couldn't be further from that. You are a brightness that fills the room."

Germany thoughtfully sipped his drink and continued,

"I just find it curious--"

"G-germany," Italy blurted, intterupting. Germany stopped and noticed Italy's wide eyes and absolutely enormous smile-- he was even tearing up a little. Why in the world? . . . Germany mentally played back what he had just said.

And found himself sort of wanting to disappear.

"U-uh. That is, I . . ."

Italy flung himself over the counter, hugging Germany and nearly spilling both drinks in the process, proclaiming,

"I knew Germany cared!~ He's fluffy and as sweet as cannoli siciliani!”

Germany wriggled in Italy's grip and complained,

"Italy, you're going to make a mess! Get off!"

"Hehehehe!"

Crash!

"Oops."

Germany sighed.

By the time the two had finished their late-night snack (and Germany had cleaned up the mess) and went to bed, it was probably more accurate to say it was early morning then late night. Still, Germany had no pressing morning meetings tomorrow, so it didn’t trouble him too terribly.

“Goodnight, Germany!”

He reached up and switched the light on his nightstand off.

“Goodnight.”

“Thank you for the cookies and hot chocolate.”

“You’re welcome.”

There was a pause.

“And thank you again for letting me sleep here!”

“. . . you’re welcome.”

Pause.

“Oh also I’ll try to dream quietly tonight!”

“Mmhm.”

Pause. Germany waited. The silence expanded. He sighed in relief, sinking further in his pillow.

Italy’s voice returned,

“Oh and if I don’t, you can always let me know and I’ll--”

“ITALY! BE QUIET!”

“--oh, aaah, sorry, sorry!”

The room fell silent again, the final words hanging in the air. Germany started to feel slightly bad over how harshly he’d snapped at him.

Ugh. It was hardly his fault. Italy had been rambling.

. . . it wasn’t a very nice final thing to hear before falling asleep, though.

Germany sighed, trying to end things on a more neutral note.

“I already told you, you don’t need to worry about that. Your dreaming won’t wake me. So relax.”

“Okay, well Romano said I was really really loud, but okay, I won’t worry. I’ll try to have boring dreams anyway though, I’ll think about boring things, that way I’ll be nice and quiet.”

Germany rolled his eyes.

“What were you dreaming so loudly over anyway?”

Italy rolled over in bed, stealing a little of the blankets as he replied,

“Oh, it was kind of weird, you were spanking me with a pasta spoon.”

Germany sat bolt-upright and made a choking noise.

“WH-WHAT.”

“Yeah, for some reason I wanted you to keep doing it. Funny, ve.”

Germany croaked.

“Anyway, goodnight Germany! Sleep well!”

#hetalia #gerita #fanfic #italy x germany #germany x italy #this ended up longer then intended #my fanfic

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maedhros-nelyafinwe · 6 years

Text

This turned out longer than I intended. I’m in a rambling mood and my sleep has been especially shitty for the past month. I don’t sleep the best to begin with, but every so often it just hits the fan and this has been for an extended period and I’m just exhausted.

I finally think I made headway in my sleep research. I keep forgetting to call the psych, who my gp said I should talk to him about it last month lol. Anyways, after doing some research into if it’s just adhd (which can cause insomnia) and doing my own sleep hygiene changes and hitting everything on the checklist for that, I’ve figured out that caffiene did affect me a little (my insomnia isn’t as extreme before, but I’ll test that out tomorrow for sure), it’s not fully the cause. I’m sleeping more so I’ll continue to watch when I have caffiene, but I still have problems falling asleep and staying asleep.

But instead of 3-5 hours of sleep (and a few days, 0 hours), since I cut caffiene I’m back to hitting 5-7 on average. Sooo much better, but still doesn’t address my difficulty falling asleep and general all day tiredness.

Sleep problems have plagued for as long as I can remember. I didn’t realize I had insomnia as a kid until my mom, one night somewhere around 5th or 6th grade, walked in on me reading a book around midnight, despite my bedtime around 8. Even at sleepovers, I was always the last one asleep, if I slept at all. Anyways, Mom came in and asked why I was still up and I was just like “????? reading of course????”

Then I learned about insomnia. I was also the only middle schooler that (at least admitted to it or said anything about it) who loved taking naps. Naps were wonderful. Still are. I’ve been napping for such a long time.

Anyways. Issues sleeping. Forever. So in middle school, again, I learned meditation before I knew what it was. The ‘super guaranteed trick to make you sleep in 20 mins!’ where you start at your feet, relax the muscles, then move up your body, mentally making your muscles to relax and learning to still my ever racing thoughts in it. It helped for sure. Suddenly I could sleep for more than a few hours (that was adhd helping keep me awake, the racing thoughts and mind). But I was still always tired.

Mornings were (and are) the absolute worst. I never woke up on time, my mom had to come in and force me up. Until I realized that I had to literally throw myself out of bed the second I heard my alarm. Like, I hear it, and chuck the covers off, throw my legs over and stand up, all before I can fully open my eyes or think a single thought. It’s still a struggle to get my thoughts to work. People call my morning self ‘zombie’ me, because its legit like a zombie. My eyes are barely open, i can’t think, it’s all just muscle memory of my morning routine.

I had to learn ways to keep awake during classes, during general school and university (though the latter was easier because i planned classes accordingly. that is, not early at all lol and then I chugged coffee in the afternoon). I started drinking coffee at 12 years old and it helped a little bit for a little while, but then it stopped working and now I’m just left with a caffiene addiction lol

So that’s kind of a history. Minus the common sleep paralysis and constant nightmares (which I’ve learned to fall right back asleep through because they’re common).

I was researching the difference between adhd insomnia and sleep disorder insomnia because I’ve no doubt that was most of my problem growing up and thought maybe its still got me in its clutches despite all my trying.

So, my natural sleep schedule, when there’s no school or work, is fall asleep around 3am and wake up around 10am. When I can stick to that schedule, I actually feel rested afterwards and its easy to fall asleep. I feel the best on that schedule. Because of that, I always worked evening shifts. After high school, I worked took the latest shift, often getting off at midnight. In university, I still managed to get jobs that wouldn’t ask me to do morning shifts, all evening, with the latest letting me off at midnight again. I also tried to plan classes around this, with no classes before 930.

But now, I’m stuck at a normal hours job and it fucking sucks. I wake up at 530 am and go to bed at 830 and its so fucking rough and I’m always tired, stealing naps in my few breaks and a nap at home after school (but it’s never restful because the falling asleep issue). After almost 2 years, it’s fucking awful. Everyone around says I should adjust, or I will adjust because that’s natural, but I’ve never been able to adjust. Never.

Anyways, in my research, something just dropped and I was like ‘fuck, that sounds spot on like me’ and it’s called Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder/Syndrome/Whatever. People who have this fall asleep between 1-3am and wake up somewhere around 10-Noon. They cannot adjust to another sleep pattern. So they have trouble falling asleep before that. It’s also like getting woken up in the normal feeling sleep schedule (so like being woken up to the equivalent of midnight or 1am) So they’re tired throughout the day.

This is opposed to people who like the nighttime more than daytime. Those people can switch their sleep schedule after a week or two and feel rested and sleep through the night. But with dspd, it’s fighting a losing battle and that’s cause its a problem with your internal alarm clock completely. It’s just got shifted hours. and it doesn’t want to shift to a normal time.

Anyways, if my continuing with sleep hygiene keeps going with no development on my overall tiredness, I’m likely to go in and talk to psych about that possibility.

for those who are curious, here is a list for sleep hygiene:

7-9 hours of sleep (different sources say different things): Sometimes check.

Go to bed at the same time every night, even weekends (This is also same for when you wake up): check (cause i’m already so tired on the weekends anyways).

Quiet place to sleep: Absolutely check. With Adhd, if there’s any noise, I will not sleep.

Keep bedroom dark and cool: check and check. Again, if there’s light, I will not sleep. I do keep it cool because it helps according to science, tho it doesn’t feel like it.

Your bed is only used for sleep or sex: check and check. I spend no extra in the bedroom except to sleep.

No screens (phones, tvs, etc): check-ish. I have an e-reader but it’s on night mode. so no blue light, very dim lighting, and black background.

Follow a bedtime routine: check. I don’t play video game an hour before, I stay off the computer, and I mindlessly zone out in front of the tv or do mindless apps on my phone, then at 830, i brush my teeth, take some heartburn medicine, go upstairs, and read until i can fall asleep.

Limit daytime naps: check. I ain’t got time to nap.

No caffiene after the afternoon: recently check. I’ll keep this test going to see if its an effect for me.

Exercise: lol no

That’s about what’s the same for every place that mentions sleep hygiene. I do almost every single one of these and still just ugh. Hence why I think it’s more.

I also forgot to mention that with dspd, when given the chance, its a very quick reversion back to the natural sleep wake times, which is also true. I have to be careful not to mess up what progress i have made, though i sincerely want to

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elenamatisstuff · 6 years

Text

Geetrick Teacher AU! That doesn’t have a title because i’m lazy by Panic! At The Disco

Shipping: Geetrick

Warning: i don’t know what i just did please don’t hate me, and no smut kjvoihspubfgw

Word count: 2358

i just don’t knooowwww

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

“I can’t believe you got a E in english. Gerard, you’re on of my best students, what happened?” Gerard Way just shrugged. He couldn’t admit that he was constantly thinking about his teacher, that he couldn’t sleep and that Mr. Stumph just made him crazy! Gerard spent to many nights just jerking off and touching himself, thinking about Mr. Stumph and his cute looked so good on him. Gerard just wanted to kiss his teacher so badly, he wanted to chuckles, his strong hands, his amazing voice and those lip.

“I’m worried, you look tired and sick. Are you sure you’re fine?” Gerard just nodded. Mr. Stumph rolled his sleeves up and run his hand through his dark blonde hair. He wanted squirm under his touch, he wanted to moan his lungs out while Mr. Stumph whispers dirty things into his ear.

“Is there something on your mind? Did something happen at home? Did a classmate make fun of you for being pansexual, again? If so, you need to tell me, i can help you,” Mr. Stumph said, honestly worried. Gerard is one of his best students, he needed to keep him.

“Everything’s fine, i promise,” Gerard assured, adding a yawn. Mr. Stumph swallowed hardly, before he cleared his throat and adjusted the bundle of paper on his desk.

“Are you getting enough sleep?” Gerard flinched, eyes glued on the desk, fingers nervously playing with the hem of his shirt. “Yes, i get enough sleep, Sir.” Mr. Stumph nodded. “You look tired, do you want me to help you get more sleep?” Gerard’s head shot up, a curious look decorating his eyes like expensive jewelry. “excuse me, w-what was that?” Mr. Stumph got up from his chair and walked behind Gerard, laying his hands on Gerard’s shoulders and slowly sliding them down Gerard’s chest, to his belt.

“I want to help you,” Mr. Stumph whispered hotly against Gerard’s neck, before he licked over Gerard’s sweet spot-

Gerard woke up in a cold sweat. These dreams haunt him and he doesn’t know what to do. He woke up with a pulsing erection, a headache and a feeling of guilt in his chest and gut, that gets worse when Gerard gets rid of his erection, of course thinking about his teacher.

Thank god Gerard graduated already, he didn’t have to see his teacher. He didn’t have to feel guilty about jerking off to a attractive guy that is 6 years older, but he still did. He felt as if it was wrong, as if he was wrong. Patrick Martin Stumph wasn’t just a attractive guy Gerard jerked off to, Gerard had a fucking crush on his teacher and that made everything worse, especially not seeing him anymore. Gerard missed hearing the beautiful chuckles of his teacher, hearing him ramble and make up kid-friendly swears, just to not swear in front of his class or others in general.

Gerard smiled at the thought of Patrick. He missed him, he missed the lossons, having lunch with him at school and the endless chats about music. He missed Patrick’s voice and that adorable smile as soon as he saw Gerard at the other end of the hall. He just missed everything.

Gerard decided to go back to sleep and think about work, about the music he’s writing on and not his teacher anymore, or maybe he should just get up, go to some club and wake up in someone else’s bed or with a cute girl next to him… Yeah, maybe.

The lights were sharp and colourful, the music was loud, the bass hit Gerard in the stomach what made it difficult to enjoy a drink. He just sat by the bar and drunk light beer, deciding to not want to wake up in a stranger’s bed. He felt awful. Why did it have to be his teacher? Why did it have to be that one teacher every girl crushed on and every guy wanted to hate for being such a nerd? Why did it have to be such an amazing person Gerard hasn’t seen in years. How old is Mr. Stumph now? 30? Gerard was sure Patrick still looked amazing, he just has to be every kids’ crush.

Gerard felt someone tip his shoulder. He flinched and turned around.

“Mr. Stumph?” Gerard asked, confused and surprised. he couldn't help himself from smiling when his old teacher smiled widely. “What are you doing here? Are you even allowed to drink?” The blonde chuckled, before he took place next to Gerard. Gerard chuckled too. His voice was still beautiful.

“I’m 22, i think i can.” Patrick sighed and looked at his old student. “God, i feel so old now. It’s good to see you, though. How is life going?” Gerard had no answer to that. How was life going? Not so good, since he’s barely sober and wakes up in stranger’s beds way too often.

“Pretty okay, i think. I’m finally done with college and i’m currently trying to sell my cartoons and comics.” Gerard lied. It wasn’t pretty okay, his comics and cartoons mostly failed and he gave up on them. The only thing Gerard did right in the past 4 years was college. School was something Gerard has always been good at, as long as it was just sitting class.

“What about you? Still teaching kids that swear words are bad?” Patrick chuckled, what made Gerard’s heart flip and the butterflies in his stomach cut deep wounds into Gerard. “No, i quit teaching after you graduated. I thought i should give music another try.” Gerard couldn’t believe it. “Why only after i graduated? You could have quit so much earlier.” Gerard felt his chest tighten when Patrick’s smile fell. “You were the reason i kept teaching. You needed me, and i needed you. You were such a smart and talented kid, i felt like i would have given up on you if i would’ve stopped being your teacher. Also, i was the only teacher that gave a damn about you being bullied, so…” Patrick shrugged, as if it was nothing, but it wasn’t nothing for Gerard. This meant the world to Gerard, just hearing that Patrick really cared about Gerard meant everything to him. Patrick laid his hand on Gerard’s shoulder and sighed again. “It’s was really great to see you, i’d love to see you again sometime.” When Patrick got up from his bar stool, Gerard quickly followed. Patrick gave him a asking look. “Do you need to leave already?” Gerard asked, worried to lose Patrick again. Patrick smiled nicely. “I mean, i don’t have to, but i was going to,” Patrick explained, before he took his phone out. “It’s.. 3am, we have the entire night time to catch up,” Gerard said, his heart beating fast, not wanting to lose Patrick again, he couldn’t lose him again, he just couldn’t. Patrick still looked exactly like 4 years ago, dark blonde hair, hat and a neatly buttoned jeans shirt. Gerard missed the suits, but he was sure Patrick still had them.

“Gerard, that’s very sweet but it’s late and i have to go home to my dogs,” Patrick explained, before he pushed his phone back into his jeans pocket. “You can come with me, if you want to? I mean, you’re right, we still have time to catch up.” Gerard’s butterflies grew more, his heart was beating even faster and a smile formed on his lips. “Y-Yeah, i mean, sure, why not.” Patrick chuckled at Gerard’s nervous attempt to answer. Fuck, his chuckle. Gerard will never get over these chuckles.

Talking to Patrick after all these years made Gerard happy, seeing him smile, hearing his voice and his laugh- Gerard has never been this happy in his life! When they both arrived at Patrick’s house, Gerard felt like it was a goodbye, like they’re never gonna see each other ever again, and that hurt. Patrick unlocked the front door and bit into his bottom lip. He looked between the door and Gerard a couple of times, not sure if he should ask or not.

“Do you want to come in?” Patrick finally asked, in his eyes suddenly something Gerard has never seen in his teacher’s eyes before, something he couldn’t name, something dark, something Gerard wanted to discover.

Gerard entered the modernly designed house, shyly and not sure where this was going. When the door fell close behind Gerard, Gerard flinched and turned around to look at Patrick. Patrick was dangerously close to Gerard, so close, that Gerard couldn’t feel his body, he was numb and not able to move. He continued to stay as close as possible, and suddenly, Patrick’s hands were on Gerard’s waist, and Gerard’s hands around Patrick’s beautiful jaw.

“Mr. Stumph-” Patrick fell into Gerard’s words. “I’m not your teacher anymore, you can call me Patrick.” Gerard swallowed hardly.

“P-Patrick, what is going to happen?” Gerard felt Patrick’s lips brush against his, and it felt more than just amazing. Gerard’s body was reacting to the small touch in various ways, one of the most noticeable were the slowly growing bulge in Gerard’s jeans.

“Well, what do you want to happen, Gee? What do you want me to do?” Gerard’s body started to shake and he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or if he really went to the bar. Patrick’s breath was heavy on Gerard’s lips, just dying to finally kiss those beautiful lips, but he didn’t want to do something Gerard wouldn’t allow him to.

“Do whatever you want with me, kiss me, fuck me, use me, wear me out, kiss my entire body and mark me as yours. I wanted you to dominate me for so long, i don’t want to be able to walk when i wake up,” Gerard breathed hotly against Patrick’s lips, what caused the ex-teacher to shiver and flinch closer to Gerard. Patrick’s breathing hitched and a lazy smile formed on his lips. Patrick’s hands tightened in Gerard’s hips, pulling him closer and pressing his lips against Gerard’s. Gerard almost moaned when he first tasted his teacher’s tongue and felt it explore his mouth, exactly knowing what he was doing. Patrick’s tongue was careful, but experiences, he knew how to treat someone else’s tongue and he knew how to dominate someone else with just one kiss. Gerard felt like melting away, only Patrick’s hands kept him supported and pressed against the door. Patrick’s hips were pressed against Gerard’s, feeling Gerard’s semi, but not wanting to tease it yet. He wanted to do that later.

Gerard’s hands tightened in Patrick’s hair, slightly pulling at them, what made Patrick groan into the kiss and bite into Gerard’s bottom lip.

Gerard leaned his head back and watched Patrick through half lidded eyes, breath heavy and lips kiss swollen and pink. Gerard’s cheeks were inked in a soft red and his lashes looked even darker and longer than Patrick had remembered.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Patrick almost growled. He missed his student so much, he missed talking to him and he missed seeing his beautiful, beautiful face.

Gerard pushed himself off the door and kissed Patrick again, addicted to the feeling of Patrick’s lips, addicted to the taste on Patrick’s tongue, addicted to the little breaths and noises Patrick made without noticing. Gerard’s fingers worked on Patrick’s shirt, trying to unbutton it, carefully but still eagerly. Patrick didn’t mind it and kissed his way down Gerard’s perfect throat, sucking in marks, licking over sensitive spots, kissing marks and breathing against wet kisses. When Patrick’s shirt was gone, Gerard run his hand along Patrick’s chest, wanting to feel everything. Gerard’s hands kept moving, until they unbuckled Patrick’s belt. Patrick grabbed Gerard’s wrists and stopped him.

“We don’t want to rush anything, right? We have so much time left, just enjoy it,” Patrick whispered into Gerard’s ear before he kissed the spot right behind Gerard’s ear. Gerard made a noise of agreement, before he got dragged into the bedroom.

It was better than Gerard could have dreamed of, the feeling of Patrick’s naked body pressed against Gerard’s back, the heavy breathing on each other’s lips, the feeling of Patrick’s noises on Gerard’s neck. It was so much and so good, Gerard wanted this to last forever, but everything comes to and end.

Patrick’s lips trailed along Gerard’s neck and chest, leaving soft kisses. Gerard felt like falling asleep soon, but he didn’t want to, he wanted to cuddle and talk to Patrick, he wanted to hear him chuckle and laugh or complain about something. Fuck, Gerard didn’t want to fall asleep, laying so perfectly in Patrick’s arms, but he couldn’t help it and drifted off.

Sharp lights on Gerard’s eyelids made him see a warm and soft red-orange. Gerard didn’t want to move, he just wanted to sleep in Patrick’s arms, but when Gerard moved, he noticed that no one laid next to him. He opened his eyes and sat up. A dark room with drawings on the walls, posters of Bowie and a desk with tons and tons of comic books on.

Gerard laid in his bed, wearing his sweatpants and a old shirt. He should’ve known it was just a dream, he should’ve known Patrick would never like anyone like Gerard. God, he should have known.

It was 9am, Gerard had no coffee and no will to live, so he showered, changed his sheets and went to Starbucks, hoping to get killed by a bus or something. He just wanted black coffee and another cigarette. He kept staring at his still boiling coffee, trying to forget his dream, trying to forget how real everything felt, trying to forget how much he still loves Patrick.

“Gerard?” The emotional mess looked up, eyes dead and empty. Familiar dark blonde hair, blue eyes, beautiful smile and pale skin. Gerard’s eyes lit up, his lips formed a nice smile when the seat in front of him was taken by the beautiful man Gerard had thought of for so long.

Hopefully, it’s not a dream this time, but Gerard was hopeless enough to just go with it and let it happen.

#geetrick #fanfiction #my writing #you can reblog if you want to #pls don't hate me #this sucks so much ass #i'm so sorry #surprisingly no smut

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soft-sarcasm · 7 years

Text

im jaebum: standards.

Pairing: im jaebum x reader.

Request: vickyxmelonlove: Hello there!! May i request for a GOT7 scenario with JB or Mark where they're crush is a tsundere. ^^ please and thanks!!

Anonymous: Can you please write a Got7 JB smut with n i p p l e play? Thank you:)

Genre: smut, fluff, mild nipple play, some even milder drying humping.

Word count: 3.6+k.

a/n: so I didn’t intend to combine this two requests but it just kinda of worked so, yeah. I hope this is what you wanted, I don’t know how well it turned out because both of these things are not exactly things I’m very well versed in, so yeah. Thanks for reading.

"-Again."

"-Agai-"

"-If you say again one more time I'm going to explode." Came the voice of your boyfriend, the sound amplified as it filtered through the Mic and into the dimly lit producing booth you currently occupied.

You could understand his frustration. It was slowly going on 3am and you add been making him repeat the second half of his part in the third verse for a good ten to fifteen minutes, constantly interrupting when you deemed it necessary for a retake.

You rolled your eyes, pressing down your finger on the com button so that your voice filled the space behind the glass that currently separated you. "You're the one who wanted to make a song together Jaebummie and you knew well in advance how I operate."

You had been a music producer at JYP for years now, after being one of the few trainees who auditioned for the position and actually was hired. You had also worked on many of the most successful singles to come out of the entertainment company, songs like 'TT' by Twice that was a monster of a bit and GOT7's 'Never Ever.' That's where you had truly had gotten to know your boyfriend who was currently glaring at you from behind the glass. Of course, you both knew of each other from working in the same company for so long and having mutual friends, but you had only gotten to know each other during that time.

But while you had worked on the track, you had only assisted during the actual recording so this was the first time that he was in a session that you were leading entirely. And while he knew of your perfectionist attitude as it translated into your daily life, it seemed that he hadn't fully grasped just how ready you were to keep you both there all night until you were happy with it. You had warned him that you weren't going to compromise because of your relationship and he had simply brushed it off, eager to start on the project he had been nagging you for, for weeks after he had spent one too many times listening to some of your samples and base tracks. While he himself was no stranger to producing, he had always been fascinated by your ear for music and personal flourish that made most of the projects you touched instant hits.

"Just one more time Jae, and then I promise we're finished." You attempted to coax, putting on a pretty smile and bat of your eyelashes.

He simply scoffed but never the less slipped back on the headset. You started up the track to the right time and leaned back as he prepared to sing. Listening carefully for the correct flourishes and pronunciation that you wanted. The song cut off as did his voice, and you looked up from your notes to see him staring at you expectantly.

"Up to your standards then?"

You simply raised your shoulders, a coy smile threatening to curl at the edges of your lips. "It'll have to do. You can come out now."

There was a distinct huff that came through the Mic before you turned off the com and begun to resemble yourself as you finally prepared to leave. It wasn't that you tried to be a bitch. It was just who you were and one of the reasons why you had been able to accomplish what you had in your life. It had not been easy by any means to get yourself taken seriously as a music producer in the beginning and you had had to fight tooth and nail to get you to where you are simply due to age and being a gender which still remained unfavoured when it came to music producing.

You were a perfectionist and a borderline control freak which usually made you a pretty unlikeable person. There was also the fact that you were entirely dedicated to your just above almost everything else that had always made getting into relationships, whether platonic or romantic, rather difficult as most people rarely put up with someone who would rather stay holed up in their studio for days then replying to text messages or going outside even. You also were known to be quite harsh in your search for basic perfection and there was also your fundamentally standoffish personality. And yet, despite all these things, Im Jaebum had decided that he found you charming enough to want to date and you had found him tolerable enough to do the same. Almost 18 months later here you were.

"I should put Yugyeom in here with you, maybe then he'll stop complaining anytime I make him repeat a verse," Jaebum stated offhandedly as he entered in the sound booth area, making his way to settle in the chair next to you as he had noticed that you had favoured rerunning through the song opposed to getting fully ready to return to your apartment. "But I can't say anything; you definitely know your shit."

"Thanks," You mused, listening for any lasting imperfections for the umpteenth time that day. You had started working on this track a day or so ago, having finalised the instrumental and most of the lyrics to the point that all Jaebum would have to do is add the vocals and any lyrical choices of his own. Being in the industry had taught you both to move at an incredible pace with your own side projects being no exception.

"Ready to head home?"

You let out a non-committal hum, no longer focusing on the world around you as your mind drifted. "I just remembered there's this track Hui wanted me to smooth over that I never got around to doing."

"Good lord," Jaebum exclaimed, exasperation saturating his tone. "You cannot start anything right now. It is almost 3 and you have been up for nearly 24 hours. If you keep it any longer your eyes will literally pop out of your skull."

"Sounds fun," You stated offhandedly, now fully immersed in your own swirling brain. "I bet you I could have it done by 7."

"And die in the process?" Jaebum scoffed, pulling himself from the chair in a motion to leave. "I thought I was meant to be the tsundere one.”

“Please, that trifle you call angst is just a fraction of what I possess, so watch out,” You stated pointedly, making a flare gesture to yourself, “Because if your fans ever catch a sight of this; they’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, you’re very angsty dear.” He cooed mockingly like some patronizing grandmother causing you to scowl, “Now let’s get out of here, I’m already dead on my feet as it is.”

“But, but- the song, music, creativity,” You rambled pitifully, turning to pout and display your most endearing set of puppy dog eyes. “Just five more minutes, pwease?”

Jaebum physically cringed at the overwhelming sweetness and babyish texture of your voice, “Please, go back to being angsty that was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard.”

Taking this as a cue to go farther you suddenly were springing up from your chair, performing an impromptu display of the many different ageyo expressions you had watched idols do for years. “Please, I really want to finish this song. I promise I’ll love you forever,” And just to finish it off you ended with a small whine as you jutted out your bottom lip and hung on his arm, the cherry on top being the finger heart you shot over in his direction.

“I think I’m actually going to be sick,” He gaped, face covered in nothing but pure distaste and disbelief, “You’ve officially lost it, we’re going home.”

You abandoned your posture at that, falling back into your usual stance of indifference as you regained your composure, letting out a dissatisfied sound as you did, “All that work; just to be rejected. I guess it’s true, boys are only into what’s chic these days and when a girl shows her true emotions, they simply push them aside. I thought society had moved past this, but alas,” You let out a sorrowful sigh, “We have not.”

“If that was a true display of your emotions; we need to break up,” Jaebum stated plainly moving even closure to the door causing you to wonder if he had realised that the most movement you had made to leave was stand up from your chair. “Now can we please go, I want to at least get some form of sleep before you wake me up to no doubt re-do the second verse or maybe even the entire song.”

“Perfect idea,” You exclaimed, “You go home, I stay here. I’ll call you at 10 and we can go on from there, sorted. See you tomorrow!”

There was a loud groan and a muffled bang as Jaebum all but slammed his head into the door he was in the process of opening out of what you could only assume was frustration, he then turned back to you, “Fuck man, you are so insufferable sometimes. You are not a robot, you need to sleep-”

“-Sleep,” You dismissed, “Sleep is for the weak. I’m not even tired yet, so all that would happen would be that we would get home, you would pass out and I’d just lie there, all night, fixating on the work I should be doing. I’ll sleep when this is do-”

“-more like when you’re dead if you keep this up.” Dammit. You had done it now. Gone was the majority of the playfulness that up until this point that guided your conversation. You overworking yourself was a common topic of your conversation ever since a few months back where you had suddenly passed out after leaving a recording session at 3 am. Jaebum had been near furious to find out that it was mainly due to the fact that you hadn’t slept for two days and had eaten maybe half a meal during the same time period.

You wanted to say that he couldn’t say shit because there were times when he was injured or fatigued and he still performed, but he simply argued that at least he took care of himself enough that he could actually manage those performances without flaking out. Yeah, it was a touchy subject.

“Jae,” You started, softer now with the sudden change of tone, “I really think that even if I tried, I wouldn’t get any sleep right now and you know how much I hate that, just lying there when there’s something better I could be doing. I know what you’re saying is valid and you know better than anyone that I’ve been doing better, so just this once; let me stay here and then I promise I’ll sleep all of Saturday just for you.”

There was a beat of silence and then Jaebum was dropping down his bag and sighing, making his way over to you just in time for you catch an interesting flicker of something in his feline edged eyes, “Why don’t we rather do something else that I know will tire you out and then we can go home and then you can come back?”

“And what would this something else be?” You replied, now understanding the shift in his tone as you realised that you had been backed up so that you were now pressed against the desk behind you.

There was a twitch of something between coy and satisfaction at the corners of his lips as Jaebum leaned closer so that his mouth was up against your ear, giving him the access to nip the skin. “Maybe you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself.”

You wanted to laugh at the blatant seduction in his voice but any noise that could have possibly been wanting to come out quickly evaporated as Jaebum crushed his lips against yours, teeth and tongue instantly added to mix as soon as you parted your lips. Jaebum further nestled himself into the spot between your legs, hands gripping every part of your clothed frame with just enough pressure to set you all on fire. You pulled yourself closer so that your forms were pulled together so with each one of your movements you could perfectly full every ridge of him, lazily licking and biting at his mouth as your hands travelled south so that you were roughly grabbing his ass to further push him into you.

A distinct hiss left his lips as you grinded up into him, the friction a delicious mixture of pleasure and denial, “Fuck, you really are something.”

You simply hummed in answer, taking his moment of weakness to not only spread your lips over the expanse of his exposed neck but also push the bomber jacket from his shoulders so that only a thin shirt remained. “You’re the one who offered,” You reminded while you nipped at his collar bones, “So don’t flake out on me now.”

He couldn’t answer straight away as you twist your hips up, having to regain himself before he could. “I’m not flaking, just stating the facts.”

“Then I take the compliment and raise you one,” You chortled happily, wandering fingers making their way to grasp at his belt. “Or rather, you can raise one.”

An actual laugh escaped his lips, a breathy one as you made your way to cup him in your hands, but still a laugh before he was removing himself from you for a moment, “You sure know how to just sneak in those innuendos don’t you?”

“It’s a talent,” You shrugged while making quick work of kicking off your shoes and discarding your sweater, exposing your chest instantly to the chilly sound booth thanks to your lack of bra. “But while it is one of many, patience is not, so if we could get on with this whole ‘tiring me out thing’ I’d very much appreciate it.”

Your words seemed to knock the sense that Jaebum seemed to lose at the sight of your fully bare chest. In your opinion, there was not a lot to look at, but apparently, it was one of Im Jaebum’s many things, and who were you to judge? He moved like lightning, freeing himself from his shirt and latching himself back to your body by way of your neck within a few seconds of each other. You let out an overly satisfied sound as the heat that radiated from his body made contact with you, an even more pampered noise escaping when a warm hand clamped down on your right breast, nimble fingers further stimulating your nipple that had already become perked due to the contrast of temperature.

His tongue trailed down your neck, teeth sometimes joining so that a kaleidoscope of sensation greeted you with each ministration. He only stopped when he reached the left side of your chest that had seemed neglected until then, his breath stuttering for just a moment as you continued to twist your clothed core up into his. You let out a soft gasp when his mouth finally came into contact with your nipple, there being no time to recover was his other hand pinched down on your other one.

“Shit,” You cursed while tossing your head back, keeping yourself stable by pushing back on the desk space behind you to keep you stable. There was a nip at the sensitive flesh that you could only imagine was overly red due to his ministrations. “Jae.”

He perked up at the sound of his nickname, a look of pure satisfaction and mischief in his eyes as he gazed up at you, “Yes? You okay up there?”

You let out a frustrated huff, the sound finishing over as a stunted whine when he decided that now was the appropriate time to give you a small flick. “Can we skip this part already? I know it’s like, a thing, but I currently need a different thing if you get what I mean.”

You were answered with a noncommittal hum and a kiss to the side that had once been occupied by his left hand, “I don’t know, I think you may have to be more specific. I mean, how am I meant to successfully tire you out if I don’t know what you want?”

There was a shriek when he sunk his teeth down and suddenly all of your inhibitions were gone and you were thrusting up your hips, “If you don’t fuck me this fucking instant I swear to god Jaebum I will get myself off right here, right now and make you watch.”

That seemed to knock some sense into him, especially as he knew you were perfectly capable of going through with any and all threats. There had been this one time when he had attempted to distract you from your work for a good two hours because he was horny and wanted attention even though you had a deadline. Simply put, he never tried that ever again.

The memory of that torturous night was probably one of the things that set him into instant motion, making quick work of helping you lift yourself up enough to take off your leggings before doing the same to his own jeans, though it seemed he was slightly too eager to even finish the job as he regained his spacing as soon as they were far enough down his thighs so that he could push down his underwear. You understood why the mere thought of not being able to finish what he had started and made him act so quickly when you saw the sight of his cock, incredibly hard and dripping precum. You had seen his dick enough times to not be surprised by it anymore but that didn’t mean that you didn’t take the time to admire it, not that that’s what you were doing right now, right now you were more frustrated by the fact that you could still see it and it wasn’t inside of your rather than how unnaturally pretty it was.

He didn’t waste any time either, cloaking your body with his own, mouth mashing against your own as you felt the all too familiar, yet still exhilarating feeling of his head lined up to your thoroughly sopping entrance. Even though it had barely been a day since the last time you had fucked, it felt like you hadn’t felt his body this close to your own in months. That feeling was quickly extinguished when he slid into you, the stretch welcomed as you both moaned in content.

“Fuck yes,” You sighed in satisfaction, rotating your hips in appreciation of the filling sensation.

Jaebum pressed an overly mushy kiss to your lips before he begun to move, each thrust making you both more riled up and sedated, his empty hand that wasn’t busy keeping your leg up to allow better access, sneaking in between your bodies to latch onto your swollen clit.

You clenched at the added stimulation causing him to groan, “Fuck, you feel fucking amazing.”

“Thanks,” You hummed, clenching down again as your eyes fought to not flutter closed. You enjoyed seeing Jaebum like this, sweat beginning to drip from his dark hair, face flushed with exertion, not to mention basically naked.

“Stop that,” He berated as you tightened yet again, “This is about you if you keep doing that there’s not going to be much of me left.”

“Sorry,” You apologised though it lost its sincerity when you pressed down again causing him to glare at you and press down harder on your clit in retaliation causing you to unleash a loud curse as you threw your head back. There was a twist in your stomach that you knew all too well, the sensation sending shocks through your body. “Fuck.”

“Seems like I won’t have to hold on for that much longer,” Jaebum chortled while slamming back into you causing you to let out an almost shriek.

He was right though, you could see your finish line, the race coming to an end with each twist of his thumb and slam of his hips. Then there was an intruder at your already full entrance and you arched from the table as Jaebum slipped in another finger alongside his dick, successfully stealing the air from your very beginning. You were completely speechless at the sudden sensation that was only amplified by the finger both in you and the one of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You repeated like a mantra before you were cumming, clamping down on Jaebum with an additional tightness thanks to the extra component which sent him spiralling.

Heavy breathing filled the sound booth, sounding as pleasant to you as many of the songs that had been produced in the very same space. You were thoroughly satisfied and there was an overwhelming sense of numbing exhaustion taking over your very being. Jaebum regained his strength before you did, moving you both to the couch after pulling out, he set you down in a lying position before he went off to find something to clean you off with.

“You tired enough to go home no-” Jaebum begun as he returned with a cloth after having to put on his clothes to go retrieve one, only to be met with you already passed out on the couch, having obviously used the last of your strength to grab for his discarded jacket to cover yourself. He let out a laugh at the endearing sight of your innocent expression as you slept peacefully, muttering himself as he made his way over to you, “Tsundere indeed.”

#got7 #kpop #jb #jaebum #got7 smut #kpop smut #jaebum smut #jb smut #got7 scenarious #jaebum scenarious #jb scenarious #kpop scenarious #smut #writing

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anne-wentworth · 7 years

Text

Something About Her

Harvey meets Donna Paulsen when she shows up drunk at his door at 3am. Somehow it’s the best thing that ever happened to him. College au.

Chapter 1- Drunk and (Not) Alone

Read on ao3

Harvey was jolted awake by someone trying to break down his door. He sat up in bed, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on as he grabbed his phone to check the time. The confusion that clouded his brain only increased when he saw that it was three in the goddamn morning and what the fuck was going on? Some distant survival instinct within him whispered that an intruder was going to kill him and he should grab a weapon. At the same time, the logical part of his mind slowly awoke and told him that the chances of someone trying to kill him at his college dorm were extremely low. Suddenly, a voice joined in with the pounding that was beginning to hurt his ears. It sounded like...a girl? I knew you would be too much of a coward to let me in. You are such a piece of shit and you know what...fuck you. Just fuck you and fuck that girl who looks like a Victoria’s Secret model that you fucked behind my back when you were supposedly in love with me and...you’re the biggest asshole in the whole world... Harvey stared in the direction of the muffled outbursts with wide eyes as the ramblings stopped for a moment. What the fuck? But then the noise picked up again and he knew he needed to do something before the entire floor gathered outside his room with pitchforks. Climbing out of bed, he shuffled towards the door, his limbs still heavy with sleep. He was completely prepared to have it out with whoever dragged him out of his slumber at this ungodly hour on one of the rare occasions he didn’t need to pull an all nighter to finish some assignment but every angry word died on his tongue at the sight of the girl standing in the hallway. The first thing he noticed was her fiery hair and he couldn’t help but think that it matched her temper perfectly. The second thing that captured his attention were her swollen eyes rimmed in red. And the third was the fact that she smelled like a whole bar. Or maybe ten. Something within him also registered that she was beautiful but he quickly shoved the thought aside because now was not the time.

Those eyes of hers bulged in a mixture of horror and surprise as she took Harvey in. “You’re not Richard,” she stated after a moment. “No,” was his simple reply. The seconds ticked by, filled with silence as they stared at each other. “I’m..so sorry,” she blurted out suddenly. “I didn’t...I got the wrong room. Obviously. I didn’t mean to wake you I’m so- shit-” “Hey,” Harvey interrupted softly because she appeared to be on the verge of bursting into tears. “It’s okay.” The girl nodded, as if she didn’t trust herself to speak and his chest ached for her.

He hoped Richard was having a shit night wherever he was. “I um..I should go,” she said after a while. However, she was very drunk and not in the best place emotionally and Harvey didn’t think it was wise for her to wander around by herself in such a state. “Wait,” he said as she turned away, gently reaching out and grabbing ahold of her wrist. She looked up at him and a feeling Harvey never experienced before tugged at his stomach. “You could...you could crash here tonight if you want.” This time he was the one struggling to string together a decent sentence. “Oh I’m fine really,” she said weakly. It hit him then that of course she would refuse he was some strange guy not to mention he was still creepily holding on to her and this was probably raising so many red flags. In an instant he dropped her arm, pulling away as if she burned him. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean...I wasn’t trying...my roommate is staying with his girlfriend tonight so there’s an empty bed that you could sleep in. That’s all I meant I swear.” He was babbling. Harvey Specter didn’t babble and yet here he was like a damn fool. But for the first time since he laid eyes on her, she smiled. It was a little thing but it was still something. He wanted to see more of it. “Thank you,” she told him. “But it really is okay.” “Okay.” She gave him a small wave before whirling around. And didn’t make it two steps when she stumbled and ended up on the ground. Harvey raced to her side, concern lacing his features. “I’m fine,” she mumbled before he could even say anything, earning herself a dubious look. She sighed, an expression of defeat settling on her face. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” she said sheepishly and really Harvey had to wonder how she even made it to his dorm in the first place. He stood up and offered his arm to help her to her feet. She grasped his hand in hers and a shock of electricity ran through his veins. She leaned against him to steady herself and Harvey snaked an arm around her waist to ensure she wouldn’t fall again and every inch of him was on fire. As soon as they entered the room, she broke away from him and collapsed on his bed in a messy heap as a groan escaped her throat. Her breathing immediately deepened and Harvey could tell she already passed out. He watched her for a bit, head tilted as he studied this dramatic creature who by some twist of fate had accidentally found herself at his door.

An urge to know her better, to learn everything about her, encompassed him but he swiftly shook it off. She was just some drunk broken-hearted girl. Yet, even as he thought it, he found himself making his way over to his bed and pulling the blanket over her as best as he could, considering she was sprawled out on top of about half of it. He sighed before crawling into his roommate’s bed, hoping that Jeff wouldn’t be back until late tomorrow because he would be pissed about this. Harvey stared at the ceiling, desperately trying to regain some of the sleepiness that had consumed him mere minutes ago but it had all been wiped away by a mysterious redhead. Of course something like this would happen to him. But as he turned to look at the girl whose name he still didn’t know, her face barely visible in the low light that streamed in through the windows, he couldn’t find it in his heart to be annoyed. He wanted more.

#darvey #darvey fanfiction #darvey fic #darvey au #donna x harvey

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sincelight · 7 years

Text

I'm A Little Awkward, But Most People Like Me

Pairing: Yixing/Baekhyun Rating: pg-13 Genre: online friendship?

Summary: Baekhyun's a little awkward, spends too much time reading smutty gay fanfiction, and doesn't think twice before flying across the country to meet his favorite author.

He’s staring at the screen, the little line blinking, taunting him. He wants to say something. Anything. But what? Is it weird if he just gushes? Can he do that? Hi you don’t know me but I love ur fics and ur a great writer and i think i love you please be my friend. He quickly backspaces. “Definitely can’t send that.”

He lets his head fall onto his desk and pouts. “Come on Baekhyun, you’re a people person, you’re great at making friends. Just say hi.” He takes the bit of courage his little pep talk gives him and hurries to type something, not going back to reread it because he knows he’ll just backspace it all again. He lets out his held breath after hitting send and then hurries to exit out of the site, shutting his laptop and pushing it away from himself. It’s late and he should get to bed anyway, he has work in the morning.

He hates the sound of his alarm. It’s too loud. Each time it goes off, every five minutes for a half-hour straight, he silences it and forces himself not to cry into his pillow. He briefly wonders why his life can’t be like Kai’s in xingie’s latest fic. Why wasn’t he born into a rich family, with the luxury of never having to work a day in his life? He sighs, swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands.

After getting ready it’s a short walk to work, too short. He looks up at the building, the glass window with the stupid purple coffee mug smiling down at him, and is disappointed that, once again, it hasn’t burned down overnight. The sound of the bell chiming when he opens the door annoys him, but one annoyance is quickly replaced with another when his manager, Junmyeon, marches up to him with that overly happy smile on his face.

“You’re late. Again.”

Baekhyun continues walking, thinking that if he ignores him he’ll go away. But Junmyeon only follows behind him, much too close.

“Third time this week, Baek. You need to be—“

“I know, Junmyeon,” he sighs as he ties his apron around his waist. “I know.” Junmyeon gives him a look, the one he uses when customers are being unreasonable, but doesn’t say anything more. “I’ll be on time tomorrow.”

He’s left alone after that to work. This part of his job he can handle, making coffee is something he’s always enjoyed. Plus, the sounds of the machines drown out potential conversations his coworkers might be tempted to have with him. On more than one occasion he’s turned the blender on specifically to drown out whatever nonsense Sehun was spewing, that kid seems to never stop talking. He’s cute, but god damn.

His first order of the day is a mocha latte and he smiles to himself. It reminds him of a fic by xingie he’d read not too long ago; the main character worked in a coffee shop and his super cute, much too flirty regular always ordered a mocha latte everyday. He’s torn from his daydream when he realizes he’s spilling milk all over the counter and it’s pouring onto the front of his apron. He curses under his breath, quickly grabbing a rag to wipe up his mess. Maybe if xingie actually replies to him he can tell him how he made a mess at work daydreaming about one of his steamy sex scenes from his coffee shop fic. He smiles.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Sehun’s voice calls suddenly, much too close to him. “You’re happy you just spilled milk all over yourself?” Baekhyun shoots Sehun a quick glare and then turns on the empty blender.

By the time he gets to sit down for his lunch break he’s ready to go home. His feet hurt and he looks like he pissed himself and he really just wants to finish the chaptered fic he’d started the night before. He sips from his coffee mug and looks to the clock on the wall above him. Fifteen minutes, thats enough time to at least get in half a chapter. So he pulls his phone out and quickly loads up the site, tapping on his subscriptions and smiling to himself.

It’s been a long read. He’s spent most of his free time for the better part of a week reading this fic. It’s by xingie, so of course it’s amazing, but this one. This one is it. This one is everything Baekhyun’s been looking for in a fic. He’s cried twice, gotten so angry at the main character he’s slammed his laptop shut, and had to stop reading to masturbate once. Okay, twice. Okay, it was three times, but xingie just knows how to write some good sex. Baekhyun pouts, he wishes he was having good sex. He sighs, rolls his eyes and refocuses. Ten minutes, start reading, he tells himself.

He’s just about to get to the part where Kai finally, finally, confesses to the short, big-eyed boy of his dreams when someone kicks his foot. He holds his breath to keep a shout in, because he’d rather not get in trouble. So he settles for an annoyed, “What?” Junmyeon doesn’t speak, just holds his wrist up to tap at the face of his watch. Oh, Baekhyun thinks, my break ended twenty minutes ago. He throws a charming smile Junmyeon’s way as he scrambles to his feet and rushes back to work.

He groans the entire walk home. Junmyeon had sat him down after work to explain to him the importance of punctuality. Sure, he drowned most of it out, but still annoying nonetheless. He unlocks his door and steps inside, “I’m not a child,” he pouts.

His apartment is small, but he has a cat so it’s okay. And, just like everyday, Socks the cat is sleeping in a little furry ball, curled up on the tattered old couch his friend Taehyung gave him as a move in gift. He curls up in a similar ball around Socks and pulls his phone out to finally finish what he’d started at work. “Alright Kai, lets see you finally admit your feelings.”

The message notification is a little unexpected, no one ever messages him. And then he remembers his half-asleep, 3am message to xingie.

From xingie: Hey, thanks for the message! I’m glad you’re enjoying my fics… it’s kinda cool to get like, fan mail. I’ve actually noticed you’ve left me a few comments before so thanks for that! Hope to hear back from you!

Baekhyun stares at his phone, rereads the message a few times, and then screeches into the couch cushion. Socks gets up and gives him a dirty look before rearranging himself at the opposite end of the couch. “Sorry,” he says, then hops up to sit cross-legged. “What do I say back?” he speaks aloud, looking at his reflection in his dark tv screen. “How do I reply without sounding creepy?”

From dontcallmebacon: Wow, okay. I kinda didn’t expect you to reply to me. I figured you must get a lot of messages because your fics are so good. Um, I don’t really know what to say now. I almost sent you a message yesterday telling you I think I love you, but I didn’t. I really love your last fic, Coffee House. I’m almost finished reading it right now. I got in trouble at work today trying to read instead of working. So thats your fault lol. Anyway, thanks for replying!

He hits send without thinking and immediately regrets. “Oh my god, I’m such a fucking creeper.”

From dontcallmebacon: Also I’m sorry for how creepy that message probably came out I literally just rambled on accident. I promise I’m not usually this awkward.

After this, they end up chatting regularly. Xingie, Baekhyun learns, is actually really cool. They eventually exchange Tumblr information and begin following each other. Messaging there is just much easier, and a lot faster. Baekhyun may or may not stalk through Xingie’s blog, trying to find pictures to put a face to the name. He’s cute, he’s really cute. Like, holy hell what a time to be alive and gay, please Jesus let him be gay, kinda cute. He spends only a very reasonable hour digging deeper to find more pictures, learning his name is Yixing and that he’s not only cute but he’s sexy as hell when he wants to be. Baekhyun may or may not totally save a black and white picture of him biting his lip to his computer.

dontcallmebacon: you're a guy

xingie: i am, yes xingie: is that bad?

dontcallemebacon: no i just… i guess i was expecting like a girl. since you know… its usually girls that write fics.

xingie: i can assure you there are plenty of guys that write fics. xingie: why do you think i have such extensive knowledge of anal? lol

Baekhyun has to sit back from his computer, hands still resting on the keys as he thinks. Is that Yixing’s way of telling him he’s gay? Because well, Baekhyun’s gay. Baekhyun is very gay and Yixing is very cute. And, “No, quit that. Quit that right now.”

dontcallmebacon: youre really cute

Baekhyun mentally kicks himself, physically slams his head onto his desk. That is totally not what he was wanting to say. He hurries to try and save the situation.

dontcallmebacon: i mean like i saw a picture of yu and youre cuet not that i was like stalkinh you or antyhing dontcallmebacon: wow that makes it sound liek i WAS stalking you which i wasnt i swear!

Baekhyun waits, watching the chat box, hoping he didn’t just freak Yixing out. It feels like hours, days, years that he waits for a reply.

xingie: so basically what ur saying is you stalked my blog?

dontcallmebacon: NO! dontcallmebacon: ok yes i did but i just wanted to see what you looked like

xingie: ….you think im cuuuuuuuuute ^.^ xingie: send me a picture of you now, its only fair

Baekhyun almost spits up his drink. Yixing wants a picture of him? He quickly goes through his facebook, trying to find the cutest picture of himself he can. He chooses one and sends it and waits for a reply, playing some dumb game on Facebook to distract himself.

xingie: cute

A few months go by like this, Baekhyun regularly chatting with Yixing nearly all day and all night. Well, until he has to go to sleep before Yixing, timezones be damned. They learn a lot about each other in a short amount of time. They have a shared love for photography, food, animals and more importantly, BTS. They discover they have the same bias and ultimately decide, jokingly of course, that they must be soulmates.

Baekhyun gets in trouble more often at work now. Showing up late more days than not because he decided to stay up much too late to chat with Yixing. Spending too much time looking at his phone instead of paying attention to his work. He makes Yixing laugh when he tells him that he’s solely responsible for the new no phones policy at work.

xingie: i cant wait to meet you

Baekhyun leans back and just stares. They’ve been talking for three months now and sure, the thought of actually meeting Yixing has crossed his mind, but he never thought Yixing was thinking the same thing. He smiles to himself and runs his fingers over the keys.

dontcallmebacon: really?

xingie: uh yea duh youre fuckin awesome why wouldnt i wanna meet you?? xingie: unless ur a serial killer….. are u a serial killer???

dontcallmebacon: i feel like thats what a serial killer would say to make someone think theyre not a serial killer… dontcallmebacon: are YOU a serial killer??

xingie: i would never kill you xingie: might kiss you tho

Baekhyun feels his heart skip. His mouth falls open into a small smile as he types his response.

dontcallmebacon: you want to kiss me?

xingie: have you seen you? like youve seen how cute you are, right? xingie: id totally kiss you

dontcallmebacon: well.. i never said id let you so..

xingie: would you let me?

Baekhyun’s smile widens and he bites into his bottom lip.

dontcallmebacon: totally

Baekhyun is wheezing as he throws himself into his computer chair; it rolls sideways and he catches himself with a hand on the edge of his desk. He opens his laptop with one hand, the other holding onto the cramp in his side, and quickly signs into Tumblr. As he’s waiting for his shitty internet to do its job he tries to catch his breath. “I need to start working out, jesus christ, it was only three blocks”.

He was at work when he got the notification. BTS was announced as one of the artists in the lineup for Kcon in LA this year. He likes BTS. Yixing likes BTS. Yixing lives in LA. It was so exciting and overwhelming all he could think to do was sprint the three blocks from his work to his apartment. He needed to talk to Yixing immediately.

The site finally loads and he has seven messages. Yixing already knows, he thinks to himself. And, sure enough, he opens the chat box to see a barrage of all caps, frantic messages.

xingie: KCON xingie: BTS KCON EMRGENCY REPLY TO MEEEEEE xingie: BAEK FUKCING REPLY TO ME YOU DICKBAG xingie: BAKHYUNNNNNMNN HURRY IM DYNING xingie: BTSSSS BAEK PAY ATTENTION TO ME xingie: GOD DAMN IT BTS AT KCON IM SCREECHING AND UR IGNORING ME xingie: IF YUO DONT REPLY TO ME THIS FRIENDSAHIP IS OVERR

dontcallmebacon: I WAS AT WORK IM SRORRY!!!!!! dontcallmebacon: are you gonna go? to kcon?? BTS????

xingie: thank fuck i thought u were dead xingie: uhmmm obviously im gonna go! bts in my city omgg

dontcallmebacon: im so jealous tell hobi i love him for me

xingie: dude just fly out here xingie: FLY OUT HERE AND MEET ME AND SEE BTS OMG YESS xingie: baek u gotta

Baekhyun reads the message over and over, thinking about it. He has extra money. He has time he can take off work. Why shouldn’t he fly out to LA? He’s always wanted to go. He’d get to see BTS and kiss a cute boy. He quickly checks his bank account, looks at a calendar, and then switches back to Tumblr.

dontcallmebacon: fuck it.. im in

I’m not gonna cry. I’m not gonna cry. Baekhyun repeats this in his head as he watches his mother walk away from him. She drove him to the airport so he wouldn't have to leave his car, and now she’s leaving. He’s never flown before and he’s moderately terrified. Where does he go? What does he do with his luggage? How does he get to his plane? A large group of people wearing matching shirts passes him, chatting animatedly in a foreign language and he’s jealous. He wishes he had thirty other people around him to tell him what to do. He looks at his phone to check the time. What if he misses his plane? He begins walking faster.

It takes a little time, getting into the wrong line two separate times, but he finally figures out what he has to do. He checks his bag, gets his ticket and then, sighs. “Another line,” he whines, looking over at security. This line moves faster. Each step he takes closer he begins to panic just a little more. He wishes Yixing was awake so he could message him, but it’s like 2am in LA right now, so he’s stuck with nothing but his own thoughts. He takes another step forward, heart beating fast. He begins running through everything in his head, everything he’d packed in his carryon. What if they find something I shouldn't have and I go to airport jail, he thinks.

He makes it through security, only slightly scarred for life, and from there it’s smooth sailing.

By the time he lands in Vegas for his connecting flight he’s starving and so ready to just be in California. He sits down to eat and excitedly messages Yixing, knowing he’ll finally be up.

dontcallmebacon: im in vegas now, coolest airport ever

xingie: ahhhhhhh so close!!! xingie: im so excited ur almost heeeeere

dontcallmebacon: i knowww i just wanna get there already dontcallmebacon: also i’ll have u know i only cried a little at the airport before i left dontcallmebacon: i had a brief hour of panic but im good now

xingie: lol nice xingie: well only a couple more hours left and then you'll be here

Baekhyun notices the time across the top of his phone and his eyes widen. He shoves the rest of his food in his mouth and quickly chugs the rest of his drink.

dontcallmebacon: gotta go, plane leaves in twenty and im at the opposite end of the airport eating. dontcallmebacon: ill message you when i land in la!

When Baekhyun lands he messages Yixing like he said he would and sets off to find his bag. He realizes, pretty quickly, that he has no idea how to find his bag. He wanders aimlessly, he thinks he’s following the signs correctly; he turns around because he was going the wrong way, but finally, he finds baggage claim.

He drags his bag behind him to wait outside. And then, he gets nervous. What if he’s awkward? What if Yixing doesn’t like him? What if Yixing isn't really coming and this was just a big elaborate joke and now he’s stranded all alone in California? He shakes his head, knowing he’s just being dramatic. A black car slows and stops in front of him, he gulps. Yixing steps out, tall, handsome, exactly how Baekhyun pictured him. He lets out a weird breathy chuckle as Yixing steps up to him, a little dimple in his cheek as he smiles.

“Hi.”

Baekhyun licks his lips, his mouth is dry. “Hi.”

Yixing smiles again, looks from Baekhyun’s face to his bag. “You want me to take your—“

“Kiss!”

Yixing’s eyebrows raise, his mouth forms a little ‘o’. “What?”

“Kiss,” Baekhyun repeats, physically unable to stop the word vomit. “Kiss me.”

Yixing’s lips twitch, trying to keep the smile from forming. He grabs Baekhyun’s bag and tosses it into the trunk of his car, turning back to Baekhyun after. He laughs and ruffles Baekhyun’s hair playfully. Baekhyun’s heart stops when Yixing leans forward, lips pursed, and presses their lips together quickly.

“Welcome to California,” Yixing says with a laugh as he walks to the driver’s side and opens the door. “And, nice to finally meet you.”

Baekhyun stares with his mouth open as Yixing gets into the car. He licks his lips and lets out an awkward laugh. The window rolls down and Yixing leans over, hand pulling the handle to push open the door. “You coming?”

Baekhyun smiles and nods, pulls the door open and gets in. He looks at Yixing with a bright smile as he buckles, “Lets do this.”

@seonweon-sonyeondan for you. looooooove you

#exo #exo fics #exo drabble #yixing #lay #baekhyun #laybaek #baekxing #baekxing fic #drabble

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