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thestarrynightslover · 1 year

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The Day You Finally Caught a Break

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 1,574

Warnings: FLUFF. Mentions of sex crimes and crimes involving special victims (all very slight).

Summary: After living in a boring routine, the detective (y/n) (y/l/n) catches a lucky break with her colleague Jay Halstead.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first fic in a while and I am aware that it is very cheesy but I just felt like writing something cheesy. Anyways, I hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

The day started just like any other would: waking up earlier than necessary, going for a run, doing some yoga, reading, and finally getting ready to go to work. Sure, to a lot of people that might have been a great morning, having all that time to do all that stuff… The only thing was: you’d been running on nothing beyond routine — one that had become quite boring, to be honest — for a couple of years now. Which made you that weird cop who actually enjoyed the worst cases just because it gave you some sort of purpose, some sort of change. Holding that thought, you were supposed to feel lucky once you and your team got deeper into your current case. But, even with the most boring of lives, a person — a decent human being — couldn’t feel lucky for even knowing something like that happens in the world, much less for having to know every sick and twisted detail of a case that involved sex trafficking, pregnant women, all sorts of assault and child abduction.

After it was “over”, around midnight, all of Intelligence seemed to silently agree on staying as long as necessary to finish their reports. Everybody thinking the same way: finishing this today, I can get outta here, get drunk, and put it in a box in the back of my head — where it’ll stay forever. As soon as someone would finish the paperwork, they’d grab their coat, mutter something resembling a goodbye, and rush out of there like the room was on fire. Molly’s wouldn’t be open anymore and none of you really wanted to spend time with each other to risk having to talk out what had happened. And then something strange happened.

Instead of just leaving like your partner Kim and his partner Kevin before her, Ruzek just stood at the door frame, waiting. For Upton. What? He kept looking at her desk so it was pretty obvious but the confirmation came when the detective got up saying: “Hey, Jay, I’mma get going now. You okay if we do our thing some other day?”

By the time Halstead looked up, she was almost reaching Adam which shocked the shit out of you but didn’t seem to faze him much, who only answered: “Yeah. Sure. Night, guys.” And then there were two—the only two Intelligence members who never exchanged more than a couple of polite measures.

Nevertheless, your gossip-starved soul got the best of you, who ended up blurting out a “They’re together?” to no one less than Jay Halstead. For a minute or so the other detective just looked around the room, as if expecting someone to jump out of nowhere and answer your question. But, after your eyes eventually met, he decided on answering.

“Eh… I don’t really know”, he started, while scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve asked, you know?”

“Ah…” Was all you found to say after he stopped for a moment, but he continued.

“That’s just not really how it works between us. But the other day he did show up at her place late at night, which was suspicious. To say the least.” The words just flew right out of his mouth, surprising both of you, who started chuckling awkwardly at the recognition, “this is the first actual conversation we’ve had after all this time working together, isn’t it?”, he asked, ultimately.

“Yeah, I think it is,” you said, now full-on laughing. “God, I can’t believe that the first time I worked up the courage to actually talk to you was to ask for gossip!” You exclaimed, knowing that your cheeks were probably burning up with embarrassment.

“To be honest, I kinda needed to share that with someone. Especially after this moment here.” He confessed, making you laugh and forcing himself to laugh a bit more to try and hide the fact that he couldn’t stop staring at you. It just went wrong when his mouth betrayed him by saying: “You look so damn cute right now!”

"Well, it isn't every day that one finds out that the detective Jay Halstead is a gossip. Which makes me wonder who the cute one really is…"

"Oh, so that's where you're going with this?" He asked with his eyes twinkling. "Because I can prove just how not cute I am…"

"Oh?" You replied simply wondering what kind of proof he could provide against that.

"In fact, I have just the perfect idea, but, for that, you'd have to agree on going out with me first." Jay himself couldn't believe he finally managed to invite you out.

"Ooh, as in a d- date?" Who were you? Stuttering? C'mon!

"A date, yes." He answered, making you feel relieved and nervous again all at the same time.

"Yeah, I, uh, I wouldn't mind that at all. We can try and think of a date that works for both of us…" You suggested.

"Well, on Wednesday I'll be off, how about you?" Jay asked quickly.

"Oh no, that day I have somethings Platt wanted me to do. How about next Monday?"

"That's a no for me, 'cause I'm pulling doubles next week.*

"Damn…"

“Maybe this is a crazy idea but have you finished your report yet?” He asked quizzically.

“Uh, hitting the send button right now. Why?

“Then what if we do it now?”

“The date thingy?” You asked shyly, afraid that had been just a momentaneous thought that came out of his mouth too fast.

At that, he looked at you in awe, mesmerized by how adorable you were. “Yes. The date thingy.”

A million thoughts crossed your mind, including the one that that was a lifetime opportunity and that you should be better dressed, but figuring that saying something like that would only make you miss the opportunity, you settled for asking: “But where would we go? Like, it’s past 1 a.m., Jay, I don’t think there are a lot of places open…”

“Well, I might have a few ideas… Do you trust me?” He asked, holding his hand out to you, who grabbed it at the same time as you grabbed your jacket and purse with your other hand.

“Do you really need to ask that?"

And, like that, some time later you found yourself pulling up to the address Jay had texted you, which was in Canaryville, and it turned out to be an old movie theater that apparently was doing a week of classics with sessions at all times of the day. How Jay knew about that, though, was a mystery to you.

"Hey!" You heard him calling as he crossed the street. "You made a better time getting here than I did!"

"Yeah, well, my car might be faster than your old one," you replied, shrugging innocently.

"Haha, very funny," he deadpanned.

"Hey, this is a cool idea but how did you know it is happening?" You asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, you just don't seem a lot like a movie nerd to me."

"Well, there are still many things you don't know about me. But this one specifically is because I grew up around here and the owner is a friend of my family, so he always lets Will and I know about what's going on with the place."

"Hmmm, that explains it!" You exclaimed with a tad of satisfaction for not being too far off about him.

"But I do enjoy movies, okay?" You made a face of disbelief at him. To which he replied with: "It's true, alright? I'll admit that these days I haven't had much time for it but when I was growing up around here, this place was practically my second home!"

"Oh, so you've brought many others here, I'll assume!" You teased, suddenly feeling more comfortable and consequently more confident.

"Don't! Don't assume that! Growing up I wasn't very successful with the ladies and after that changed I haven't come here often…"

"Ooh, so that means that I'm your first?" You mocked, putting your hand to your heart, "Wow, I'm truly touched now!"

"Yeah, sure, have your fun with me all you want! All I really care about is the fact that I finally managed to get you to go out with me, so I can only hope you'll enjoy yourself." Him saying that, while gazing so intently at you, was making you weak on your knees and got you blushing a bit as well. So you tried to get the attention off you.

"Okay! Then let's pick a movie and watch it already, 'cause tomorrow's probably not gonna be any shorter."

A couple of hours later you and Jay were walking down the street towards a Waffle House while chatting and laughing about the movie like two best friends, which felt really nice but also made you a little confused about the being a date of that date the two of you were on. But, after you both had cleaned your plates at the diner, Jay came onto your bench to clean the corner of your mouth with a napkin, and next thing you knew, you were kissing very passionately in public like a couple of teens, forgetting about the rest of the world altogether, which made you realized, once more, how dull and colorless your life was previous to that moment so you held on to it and you held on to the man behind it.

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goodboylupin · 8 months

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Better late than never! Welcome, one and all, to

The 4th Candy Hearts Challenge

A fun, stress-free Wolfstar mini-fest!

(If you remember how this goes , feel free to skip my introductory spiel and check for new rules!)

They’re sold by many companies and known by many names: Candy Hearts, Conversation Hearts, Sweethearts, and Love Hearts. Whatever the brand and whatever you call them, they’re the signature sweet of the season. Sure, you could buy your beloved a box of chocolates, but that’s an option any time of year! Good luck finding these bad boys in November!

Not that candy hearts are bad! Sure, they’re kinda chalky… and they taste stale no matter how fresh you bought them… but it’s not about the taste with candy hearts, it’s about the pastel, the experience, and above all else: the sayings! Who doesn’t remember going through a pack with friends, trying to find the kookiest message? Digging through a box to find one that was just the right level of romantic to give a certain special someone? (And maybe the heartbreak when you received one in turn where the message was just a big, pink smudge?)

Now, candy hearts have been around for a long time. And with a constant rotation of messages so we always got fun variety in a box, they’ve had a lot of sayings.

Through a great deal of internet sleuthing (and a little creativity on my part), I’ve collected over seven hundred of them.

Some are a little raunchy (TEASE ME), and some are downright rude (EW NO). They range from classic (BE MINE) to contemporary (SWIPE RIGHT) to were-at-one-point-contemporary (FAX ME). Some of them are, quite frankly so hyper specific it’s a wonder they made it into circulation at all (ME JULIE BEST MUM).

And they are all, even the weird ones, ripe with potential as fic prompts!

The way this mini-fest works is simple:

From 12:01am EST Feb 1 until 11:59pm EST March 1, drop me an ask containing these emojis: 🍬💕

If you don't want to send an ask from your main tumblr account (or don't have a tumblr account), you can do so anonymously. However, you must include the ao3 handle or tumblr sideblog from which you plan to complete the challenge.

I will shake my Great Big Box of Candy Hearts and pull out a unique candy heart for you and only you!

With your message in hand, create whatever that candy heart inspires and your own heart desires! Fanfic, art, graphics, playlists, head canons, shit posts, interpretive dances, cosplay, meta essays, it’s all great as long as its central focus is on Wolfstar, the relationship between Remus Lupin and Sirius Black!

You can either directly quote your candy heart message in your work or use it as a broader inspiration.

You are allowed to use the same candy heart as inspiration for multiple unrelated works and submit all of them to the fest.

You do not need a beta before submitting your work, but I do encourage you to get one. I want this to be as stress-free an event as it can possibly be, and in my personal experience, it reduces stress to have someone else look over your completed work for at least spelling and grammar so you don’t have to reread your own stuff and psych yourself out before posting. If you don’t have any fandom friends with whom you feel comfortable sharing your fanfiction, there are also online resources to find a friendly stranger (including, hopefully, our discord server — see rule 17). But if ultimately, you’d rather be your own editor, I certainly won’t reject your work!

Include the following caption at the beginning of the tumblr post or AO3 beginning notes: For @goodboylupin's Candy Hearts Challenge. My candy heart prompt was ____. I will not reblog your work or allow it in the collection until you have included the caption.

If posting on tumblr, please make sure the @-tag of your caption is working so I get a notification! It should show up on its own automatically as you type. Also tag the work with #RSCandyHearts, preferably within the first five tags.

If posting on AO3, post your work to the collection and tag it with goodboylupin's RS Candy Hearts Challenge (this tag will show up in the suggestions when you start typing it).

As long as the rules have been followed, I will reblog every work on Tumblr, and leave a kudos on every work on AO3. (If I haven't done so on your work and you see I've been active on this blog, then both the @-notification and #RSCandyHearts tag failed. Send me an ask with a link!)

If, after completing your first work, you want another helping of candy hearts, that’s more than welcome! Since I don’t want anyone to get a sugar crash, there is a two-day wait period between submitting a work and getting a second (or third or fourth or wherever you are) candy heart.

If you find you cannot come up with anything for your prompt, you can drop out and send a new ask to get a different candy heart. However, you need to give it an honest effort for at least one week before I give you a new one.

Works are expected by March 15, but this is a low-stakes, self-posting challenge! If you need more time, just message me or drop an ask. And if you want to drop out, that’s totally fine! I’ll even delete your first ask where you requested a candy heart if you prefer. I only need to know for the sake of my own record-keeping. Let’s all just be honest, considerate, and try to have a good time!

If you need a really long extension: Your candy heart is yours until January of next year, at which point, if I haven't heard back from you with an update or request for extension in the past few months, your prompt is going back in the Great Big Box of Candy Hearts so somebody else can have a go at it. The AO3 collection closes at the same time.

I will keep a masterlist of works pinned on my blog until at least March 22.

There's a discord! Feel free to join to discuss your prompts, your progress, your love of Wolfstar, or just to have another little circle in your sidebar.

Over the past two challenges, there have been a small handful of people who requested a candy heart, did not create anything and did not speak to me any further to tell me they were dropping out or having trouble. I work hard to make everyone a custom graphic and keep this fest running smoothly, therefore: Any creators with multiple instances of ghosting are suspended from getting another candy heart until next challenge.

Since this is not the usual timeframe for #RSCandyHearts, I'd love it if you could reblog this post to signal boost!

My ask box is open now to receive your candy heart requests 🍬💕

#rscandyhearts #wolfstar #hp fest #hpevents #remus x sirius #remus lupin #sirius black

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69bitterbeingz · 10 months

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IF YOU'RE GONNA BE DUMB || CH. 7

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DISCLAIMER: This is a reupload from my prev account! best to follow the fic through ao3 [linked below] to avoid any future issues PAIRINGS - johnny knoxville, bam margera, steve-o, chris pontius, ryan dunn x female reader WARNINGS - swearing, piss [non sexual], prescription drugs, alcohol mention

ao3 version

The warm morning sun started to filter through your slightly agape curtains, fanning over the bed where you lay; held to your ear was your landline phone, fighting through the tired haze in your head to focus on the conversation.

“ What’s the problem? From what I hear, you all get along very well.” Unlike you, Ville’s voice was fresh as a daisy - damn 10 hour time difference. Exhausted, you wiped your face as if trying to wipe away your eyebags.

“Yea, no we get on, that’s not…” You sighed, rolling over on the bed so you could rest your chin on the pillow. “It’s all just weird you know? It’s all happened quite fast…”

“ I think you’re used to being lonely.”

“Wow, just say it why don’t you?”

Ville chuckled. “ You told me yourself, the only friends you had before LA came with you. Just go with it, you’ll get used to it.” It felt a little dismissive, but ultimately, he had a point. You just needed to throw yourself into it, embrace being with people. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?

…You seemed to be saying that a lot lately.

“Yeah… you’re right. I mean, it doesn’t make sense for me to be so reluctant, I’ve had more fun in the last month than in… ever .”

“ Just remember that. Besides, you’ve already gotten your plane ticket, right?”

You glanced at the envelope on the bedside table, sucking the air through your teeth. “Ah. Yeah.”

“ Then you don’t have a choice. ”

“They’re gonna destroy my parent’s place, Ville.”

He laughed over the phone, broken by the crackles of the line, and you snickered into the pillow. This was going to be a fucking mess.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Mila was leaning against your doorway again, watching you shove clothes into a suitcase; he does that, likes to observe and make smartass comments. He clicked his tongue, immediately putting you in a bad mood.

“Your flight’s when again?”

“Shut it.”

“2 hours, right?”

“Why the fuck did you ask if you know?”

“And you’re getting picked up in 10 minutes, right? Have I got that?”

Your head snapped to the side and you summoned the most venomous glare you could. He smiled, you scowled. “I’m gonna tell Dan to muzzle you.”

“Wow. Ok. What a concept.” Why did he say it like that? You don’t want a glimpse into their personal life . The blonde decided to wander into the room and leaned over your shoulder, and you had half a mind to elbow him in the ribs. “You do remember why we moved out to LA, right?” That was an odd question, especially when you needed to be out the house in very little time . Nonetheless, it was easier to follow his train of thought.

“Yeah for the band, work on music, make connections.” You summarised it mindlessly, throwing in your toiletries and smacking the suitcase shut. Mila hummed.

“Couldn’t help but notice you’re not doing much band shit . Hanging out with idiots, partying, trips to England.”

You cut off his whining as you threateningly held your hairbrush up to his face, startling him enough to jolt him backwards.

“Don’t start shit with me, you and Dan fucked off to Sicily for a week. I’m making connections! Hell, I’ve already met some big bands through Bam - the Bloodhound Gang.”

Mila looked downright offended. “ You met Bloodhound Gang and you didn’t tell me? ”

“Yeah, Jared says get fucked. Besides, being on the show is free publicity, if anything I’m doing more around here than you. When was the last time you plugged in a guitar, eh?” He didn’t respond, resigning himself to irate silence. With that, you jumped on the suitcase so it would be closed enough to zip up. “Now do me a favour and go bother someone–”

Ding dong!

“ Shitting hell.”

With the power of God and pure panic on your side, the suitcase zipped with little resistance, and you were down the stairs. Before you could rush out the door, Dan grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a quick hug.

“ Good luck .” He muttered, and lord knew you’d need it. You threw open the door to Johnny Knoxville, trademark shades hiding his deep brown eyes.

“You’re late.”

“Then what are you standing around for? C’mon.”

Thankfully, it wasn’t Chris’ Toyota, but instead a very flash Cadillac Eldorado. For a moment, you totally forgot the hurry you were in, in favour of whistling at the car like a catcaller. What could you say? It was a pretty sexy car.

“How come I’ve never seen this before?”

“You think I’ll let those animals around my car? I was lucky enough to have it in the shop when Bam decided to throw that party.”

You slid into the front passenger seat, revelling in the black leather interior. As much as you love your old ‘67 Dodge Charger, this was truly gorgeous. Johnny clearly took very good care of it. Your nerves calmed as you were finally on the road, though after hearing about Johnny’s penchant for falling asleep at the wheel [thanks Steve-O <3], you were a little wary of who was driving. No need to bring it up though, he was doing you a solid. Speaking of which–

“Thanks for driving me to the airport, wasn’t fair to take the car from my guys while we’re away.”

“Don’t sweat it, I was headin’ your way anyhow.”

“I could’ve called a cab.” You pointed out, running your finger over the polished frame of the open car window, but Johnny waved you off.

“Nah, no point, I’m happy to take ya.”

If he was happy to drive you then you were happy to ride. You automatically reached for the 8-track player like it was your car, but when he noticed you hesitate, he gave you the go ahead. The button was so damn satisfying to press, the second track of Ramones’ Rocket to Russia following the click.

“I know she’s pretty but you don’t have to be that precious.” Johnny commented, flashing you a grin. “You’re allowed to press a button if you wanna.”

“I should get you to drive me more often.” You replied, and he chuckled.

“Oh good, I’ve always dreamed of being a chauffeur.”

The ride passed quicker than expected, between the good music and pleasant conversation. It was a lot less chaotic in a confined space with just one of the boys, but you guessed that was because there was no manic energy for him to feed off of. Once you pulled into LAX car park and a uniformed worker took the beautiful wonderful Eldorado to car storage, it was a bit of a blur. A mad dash - briefly interrupted when Johnny got held back by airport security for the mousetrap in his back pocket - all the way to the plane’s gate, surprisingly in time. You felt uneasy when you didn’t spot Chris and Steve-O immediately, and to be honest, even when they did show up you didn’t feel any better. There was something… off about them, Chris especially. He seemed to be dazed, looking around the airport like he’d never seen anything like it. You tugged the bottom of Johnny’s shirt, leaning over without taking your eyes off of Chris.

“Is it just me or is he out of it…?”

“Probably taken the pill already.”

“The–” Your head snapped to the side. “The pill? Hang on, he got pills through security?”

Johnny giggled and shook his head, “No, he gets sleeping pills from a doctor to get him through flights.”

That made much more sense, but it raised another question.

“Is it such a good idea to give Chris sleeping pills?”

He grinned with the whites of his teeth. “No.”

Chris stumbled forward and practically fell on you - not hugging you or anything, just kinda… leaning his weight on you. You gave Steve-O an awkward look but he snickered, content to let Chris do as he pleased. You cleared your throat.

“Hey Chris.”

It took him a second, but his arms came up to hang onto your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Heyyy. ” The dopey giggle that followed was adorable, but you were relieved that he didn’t fight when Steve grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him into an upright position.

“Where’s Jeff?” Johnny asked as the four of you headed towards the gate. Steve-O shrugged.

“Think he went ahead of us, we had some, uh… business in the bathroom.

You weren’t gonna pry, you were going to focus on getting through this flight in one piece instead, because the longer you watched Chris try to operate , the less hope you had. He managed to get through the passport check with little more than an odd look from the attendant, but from the way he kept bumping into the wall, you doubted he’d make it on his own. He clumsily turned towards you when you took his wrist and placed his arm over your shoulders.

“I’ll be real Chris, you’re walking like you’re brain damaged.” You said dryly, but he just grinned and leaned his entire weight on you, nearly knocking you to the ground. The walkway to the plane was short so you didn’t have to support him for too long, though as you lead him through the entrance, you heard the stewardess say to Johnny: “ Has he taken drugs?” . Apparently, Chris heard too, as he whipped around to look at her, taking you with him.

“ No no, I don’t need a drink.”

That wasn’t what she asked at all. Before he could say anything else, you pushed him down the aisle. You thanked whatever god was above that all of you were seated at the very back of the plane, but you despaired at having to sit with Steve-O and Chris. As Steve-O happily settled into his seat and Chris stood in in the aisle, swaying slightly, you leaned over to the row in front where Johnny was getting comfy next to Jeff.

“There’s no way in hell you guys assigned me babysitter.”

“But you’re so good at it!” Johnny laughed gleefully, while Jeff just shrugged.

“Sorry, that was MTV’s decision. At least you didn’t pay for it.”

“Jesus christ.” This was gonna be a fucking mess, you already knew, especially when Jeff leaned up to look over your shoulder and made a face.

“Where did Chris go?”

“What?”

You spun on your heel - he was nowhere to be found. He was there literally a second ago, how the hell did he move so fast on sleeping pills? Johnny leaned up to peer over the seats, his eyebrows raising once he spotted him.

“I think he’s by the bathroom? Wow, he usually doesn’t make it, proud of him.”

“ The fuck do you mean ‘doesn’t make it’? ”

Suddenly, the sound of somebody jamming the service button was heard throughout the cabin, and you assumed it had something to do with Chris. You charged down the aisle towards him, but slowed as you saw the dark, wet spot on the carpet beneath his feet. He seemed to be completely unaware of his bodily malfunction, casually chatting to a random couple while the woman spammed that button like her life depended on it. Immediately, you took hold of his shoulders and steered him into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Chris tittered to himself as you turned on the tap.

“[Y/n]… y’wanna try the mile high club?” He asked, head barely supported by his neck. You blinked at him.

“You’re covered in piss.”

“Wow… didn’ know you’re into that…”

“For the love of god just give me your shorts.”

He complied without question, and you threw them into the filled sink. It wouldn’t clean them properly, but dammit it was the best you could do. While they soaked, you bundled up half the toilet roll in your hand and set to work cleaning up his legs. It was fucking grim, but if you had to sit next to him for the next 10 fucking hours you were making damn sure he didn’t smell like piss. At least he wasn’t making it difficult for you, humming to himself as he let you clean and redress him. Finally leaving the bathroom again, you noticed the pile of newspapers where the wet patch was, and the disgusted looks from the poor couple Chris had picked out. You didn’t waste anymore time getting him back to the seats. You ushered him into the middle seat, Steve-O taking note of Chris’ freshly ringed out shorts.

“Why are they wet?”

“I cleaned him up.”

"Cleaned up what?"

You gave him a weary expression that seemed to get the message across. You took your seat next to Chris, and he took it upon himself to cuddle up to your side, curling up like a drowsy cat. It would be so much cuter if it weren’t for what just happened. As if to prolong the second hand embarrassment, a stewardess approached your row, a concerned expression as she pointed to Chris. “Excuse me, has he… taken anything?”

Before you could answer, Steve-O did it for you.

“ Yeah, and so did I! But we took it before we got on the plane so it’s totally legal.”

“ Prescribed!” You interjected, shoving Steve-O back into his seat. “Prescribed sleeping pills, got him from a doctor, swear to god.”

She scrunched up her nose, a crease between her eyebrows, but she didn’t follow up. You shot Steve-O a glare once she left. “What the fuck was that?”

“What? She asked .”

The plane hadn’t even taken off yet, how had so much already happened? At least the pills seemed to be overpowering Chris, clinging to you with droopy eyelids. He was murmuring something incomprehensible, no chance in hell of you deciphering it, but he seemed happy. Everything was normal until the plane took off. You were distracted by talking to Johnny through the crack in the seats, when you heard something unzip. You curiously turned to look at Steve-O, then immediately looked away from anything below the belt. You eyed the digicam he had in his other hand, aimed at the window. The sound that followed was one you really wished you didn’t hear.

“ Steve. ” You hissed, and he looked at you expectantly. “ What the fuck are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, but he grinned mischievously, tilting the small cup of waste product towards Chris. Your face went white.

“Johnny switch seats with me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Johnny I will literally give you anything you want oh my god please– !”

But it was too late, the cup was thrown, Chris was drenched, unfortunately you were surprised by none of this. What the fuck is it with these guys and pee...? You quickly came to the conclusion that there was only one way you were getting through this.

“Do you have any more of those pills…?”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

You woke up 10 hours later, the groggiest you had ever felt in your life, but you knew damn well it was worth it. From the looks of it, most of the passengers had already gotten off the plane, leaving your rag tag group including a now conscious Chris Pontius. He was chatting idly with the others when he noticed you stir, giving you a smile. “Oh hey, you’re finally up.”

You sleepily blinked, system rebooting as your liver processed the last of the sleeping pill you took. Your thoughts were all muddy and slurred together, and you couldn’t remember much of what happened before you knocked out, but there was one thing very clear in your head.

“Chris. You were just… covered in piss.”

Steve-O was cackling like a hyena, and Chris quickly went from confused to sheepish; you could tell this wasn’t the first time.

“C’mon man, you took advantage of my drug-addled mind.” He complained, but Steve casually shoved his shoulder.

“I was on ‘em too, you knew the risk.”

Every flight attendant gave you guys the stink eye as you left, and though you didn’t blame them, you didn’t have it in you to give much of a shit.

“I’m never flying with you guys again.” You mumbled, some of the fatigue not yet gone. Affectionately, Johnny pulled you into his side and squeezed your shoulder.

“Good thing you got the flight back with us, huh?”

“Awesome. Can’t wait.”

There was already a car waiting for you guys, rented on MTV’s behalf. Since you were the one who knew the address, you were assigned the designated driver - probably not the best idea after taking sleeping pills but you were pretty sure it was all gone by the time you were behind the wheel. Besides, it’s not like you crashed in a blazing glory. Sure enough, 20 minutes out from the outskirts of London, there stood a large house on the left of a country road, surrounded by trees and fields. Whatever neighbours there may be were far from here. It was visibly aged, the paint on the outside cracked away, and the windows shadowed with dust. You pulled into the dirt drive and emerged from the driver door.

“It’s kinda spooky out here.” Johnny said, standing with his hands on his hips, craning his neck to look up at the house blocking out the twilight sky. You shrugged, rounding the car to pull your suitcase out of the boot.

“I bet it's nice on the inside.”

“How’d your parents afford this place?” Jeff asked as he followed the rest out of the car.

“I think inheritance… some distant Uncle owned it then passed it on in the will. That’s the story, at least.”

“This place is definitely haunted.” Chris’ reaction made you giggle; you twirled the keys on your fingers as you went up to the old wooden door, chipped and ancient. The key stuck in the lock, but with a hefty twist, it creaked open, revealing a dark hallway. Ok, you saw where Chris was coming from. Gazing into the unlit depth, you expected a pair of eyes to appear or a hand to reach out towards you.

“I think I saw a demon.” Steve-O chuckled.

“Dude don’t, I think I did too...” Chris replied, as you fished around in the dark for the light switch. Luckily, the lights still worked after… who knows how long. The interior looked normal - outdated for sure, you’d never seen a house straight out of the 70’s like this, but other than that it was just a house. It was odd, you’d never actually stepped foot in this house before… if you remembered correctly, your folks lived here for just a few years before they had you, then they moved to the city.

“Here it is, I guess... welcome to England.”

It took a while for everyone to pick their rooms, as they were far too busy exploring the creaky home and making fun of the tacky décor. There were some oddities; Chris wasn’t fond of the taxidermied animals in the hallway, especially when Steve-O dropped the fox on him from the second floor mezzanine. There were odd trinkets on every counter, collecting dust from the decades of absence, alongside old tvs that would probably give you cancer. However, the star of the show was definitely the small games room at the back of the house, heralding a pool table, a darts board, and more taxidermied animals but this time mounted on the walls - you know, for variety.

Eventually, fucking around got boring and everyone remembered what they were here for, so it was back in the car to London in search of some decent footage and a decent bar. You found yourselves in Soho, where Johnny had the bright idea of acting as goalie in somebody’s doorway and letting strangers kick a football at him. Admittedly, you didn’t have much faith in the outcome, but the passers-by had a great time, one even managing to hit him square in the head. It knocked him off kilter, but god knows he’s had worse. You all had a go as well, some as goalie and some as shooter. When you went up against Johnny, you managed to get him right in the balls, something you insisted was a total accident, but the boys praised it nonetheless. Johnny didn’t even let you apologise for it, simply asking if you managed to get it on tape - clearly he had his priorities in order.

It wasn’t long before an officer told you all to fuck off, but it was fun while it lasted; and with a stunt already under your belts, you all figured you deserved a drink after the long journey, so off to the Soho bars you went to christen your week of overseas shooting, the rented car long forgotten.

#jackass fanfic #jackass x reader #johnny knoxville x reader #bam margera x reader #steve o x reader #chris pontius x reader #ryan dunn x reader #if you're gonna be dumb

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watchtowerindistress · 2 years

Text

we are not our demons (18/24) - bruce wayne x batmom

Gif source: jokerous

Author's note: SHIT'S ABOUT TO GET REAL, BITCHES! instantly regrets the endearment A lot of things will be happening this chapter, so you'd better strap in, I'm serious. This chapter is actually longer than I expected, lol. It's one of the chapters I've been anticipating the most and therefore was most afraid to write.

This is the first time I did a Nolan/Tarantino and just switched the chronological timeline, but this time it was deliberate. I had big issues starting this off (what else is new?), so I just changed it up a bit.

Please excuse me using some 'The Killing Joke' quotes and butchering the whole everything of that comic. [Read more at the end.]

Beta-read by Heidi.

Words: 6.2k

Warning: language, violence, kinda dark themes

Please reblog/leave a comment.

Series Masterlist | Want to be tagged? | Read on AO3

Hang my head

Drown my fear

‘Til you all just disappear

- Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden -

“Gotta say, weirdest feeling ever being invited into Arkham,” Dick’s voice reverberated through the comms with an equal blend of weirded-out and teasing.

Behind her glasses, Ellie’s eyes narrowed when Dick’s blue-and-black superhero outfit came into view on the next CCTV camera. She tilted her head. “Are you walking on tiptoes right now?”

Dick’s lone figure tensed briefly and continued walking with a flatter stride, but ultimately his shoulders remained strained. “I was a circus artist. Learned ballet and stuff,” Dick defended with a calm voice.

“Please keep off the comms unless it’s important. Don’t get sidetracked,” Bruce’s modulated voice echoed in her ears with a deep timbre.

Someone meant business.

Ellie pressed her lips together to ward off her blushing cheeks. Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself due to her nerves and the excitement for tonight’s mission. “Check,” she conceded and studied the available cameras for the asylum, but Batman’s shape still remained to be seen. Judging from his tracker, he was in the elevator shaft getting closer to the crème de la crème of the place.

“Are we sure it’s tonight, Batman?” Damian asked dubiously and brought them back to the mission preparation they just had before in the Batcave.

“Wait, run that by me again.” Ellie licked her lips and felt herself blinking furiously at what Bruce just revealed impromptu.

He sent her a furtive glance when he jostled the phone prototype amid the quiet hum of the elevator leading its inhabitants down to the basement.

“What did that guy say exactly?”

His eyes paused on her, with his eyebrow lifted high on his forehead. “You mean verbatim?”

“Why don’t you start by revealing who that was on the Bat-phone?”

Other than his throat clearing, Bruce remained unfazed when he spoke, “I got someone in the inside of the asylum. He told me the patients have been acting restlessly as of late.”

Ellie merely pursed her lips and a crease formed on her forehead at the absurdity of that one confession.

Dick stated, “Okay, most eerie sentence ever,” and let his finger point in the air to share his playful opinion.

“I concur wholeheartedly,” Ellie agreed with a swaying head before a sigh left her lips. “And here I thought I’d get a more challenging task than the Asylum’s defense.”

“There is more than just Arkham Asylum out there. Trust me,” Bruce replied with an indulgent smirk.

Ellie’s shoulders dropped in accepting disappointment. “Alright.”

As soon as everyone filtered into the cave, Ellie could get to work. After a combination of soft keystrokes, the monitors came to life.

Damian was silently watching the live footage of an athletic Harley Quinn doing slow and relaxing Yoga poses. At the moment she was cultivating an elaborate handstand that would make Ellie envious if she wasn’t this distracted by more important matters.

Bruce nodded to himself, having made up his mind for their mission. “It’s tonight. It has to be.”

“Wait, what’s with this mood lighting?” Dick’s head whipped around, almost like he was noticing the atmosphere for the first time. His voice reached her ears in a mischievous lilt.

Ellie glanced up from her position to be more aware of her surroundings. Dick managed to wrap that truth with a shroud of playfulness once he had his first impression of the modified cave.

Just like Bruce had promised, Alfred had dimmed the lights considerably until the fluorescence was no longer blinding. It even astonished and left her heart aflutter. Not to mention seeing a few technical adjustments to their hideout.

There was always this fascination seeing new technology within her grasp. Especially when she moved towards the object that had the impression of a normal—if not pricey-looking—table standing in the middle of their base. Her fingers reverently touched the milk glass, almost like she could feel being in the presence of high tech, only to see a ripple effect forming underneath.

The words ‘Welcome Miss Rhodes’ conjured next to her right.

Ellie didn’t know whether to feel freaked out or mesmerized by this tech’s high prowess in knowing her identity.

“I adapted the tech to fit your needs.”

Behind her, the soothing warmth of Bruce’s body resembled that of a shield originating from her right side. Ellie’s mesmerized gaze moved away from the touchscreen display to shift over towards the new presence.

Before she could continue asking, Bruce explained like he had been reading her mind, “It’s linked to a satellite of Wayne Enterprises. We call it the Satellite Intelligence and Gravitational Network of Artificial Level. S.I.G.N.A.L. for short.”

“You have a satellite?” Her head turned in surprise before she muttered quietly, “Of course, you have a satellite.” Ellie shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just gifted me a satellite.”

Bruce shrugged with a quiet sigh. “The one we had to rebuild after Superman destroyed it, yes. And it’s a satellite link.”

The boys seemed to have noticed their exchange when—like a kid on Christmas awaiting their presents—Dick’s laser-focused glance switched over to her new toy.

“Oh dang, holy Batman!” he exclaimed before his emotional outburst morphed into a reverential murmur the closer he ventured towards them. “New gadgets,” Dick murmured with an awe-filled voice.

“Just for the HQ.” Bruce barely tamed his son’s elation with the lift of an eyebrow.

Dick shrugged haphazardly at that. “I don’t mind. Just so you know, my escrima sticks could use an upgrade too, you know?” It was hard to imagine how his pout could rival Tim’s. “An extra kick would be nice, y’know what I mean?”

Ellie didn’t see Bruce’s reaction, but his long sigh was the familiar epitome to Dick’s playful ideas, or maybe just the weariness of parenthood had been creeping up on him. Listening quietly, Ellie’s brows lifted high on her forehead. Half curious about their conversation and half expectant to get to their nightly mission.

“We’ll see,” Bruce mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe Alfred could try his hand at that,” he offered with a contemplative expression.

Dick’s arrogant pout was perfectly in sync with his head nodding in understanding.

Bruce’s eyes met Damian’s expectantly, whose arm leaned with a devil-may-care attitude against the edge of the table. Ellie absolutely loved this state-of-the-art technology. It was one of the reasons why her eyes lingered with deep fascination on the interface display slowly coming to life, and not Bruce’s response.

“Anything else to add to the shopping list, Damian?”

“I could use a flamethrower,” the young one replied with a blank expression, and kept going once he met the anticipating faces of his father and Ellie riveted on him. Damian pursed his lips in contemplation, racking his brain on how to indulge his lethal instincts.

“Too much? A taser?” Rapid-fire suggestions left his mouth when he was met with reluctance. “Something small to electrocute my enemies with? Like, let’s say … how does 300,000 Volt sound?”

His father’s eye twitched at the blatant display of just pure violence. Dick gazed at Damian while hugging his body with a cocked hip. “How about overkill?”

“You could incapacitate someone with that.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“How much AMP?”

"3.6 milliamp."

Bruce paused in thought before consenting ultimately. “Alright. But the moment someone loses their memory, we’ll adjust.”

“Fine.” Damian’s lips thinning was the only facial gesture revealing his emotions to that compromise.

“Wonderful.” Ellie lightly clapped her hands together to move things along. Her sideways glance met Bruce when she inquired, “Back to the task?”

He nodded briefly before saying, “Yes.”

At first, the modern technology was something to get used to. But Ellie still adored the integrative innovation—it just needed a few minutes to connect to the Batcomputer. The files she was looking for slowly pulled up when she swiped the blueprint of Arkham Asylum to the main screen of the milk glass surface.

“This might seem familiar to you, guys,” Ellie surmised once everyone had a good view of the access points.

“As of now, we have been formally invited to Arkham Asylum,” Bruce’s declaration sounded ominous enough as it was.

Ellie’s head nodded in severity while Dick’s blue eyes settled on the visual illustration and his hands braced against his hips. “What’s the game plan?”

“Damian and I go ahead. Dick, you’re following behind on the bike. We go in through the back entrance. Go in separate directions and cover as much ground as possible.”

Damian furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. “Divide and conquer,” he hummed, nodding carefully.

Ellie sent him a crooked smirk as her brown eyes twinkled in delight. “Someone’s really digging that strategy.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Damian explained, “What can I say? I deeply admire Caesar’s techniques.”

Dick’s eye moved confusedly in his sockets. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he muttered under his breath.

Bruce cleared his throat to get them back on track. “As I was saying, we move quickly. And always notify our status over the comms. Quinn is kept in the East Wing, in one of the maximum containment cells.”

Ellie only had one thing to add. “Not to mention, deemed highly dangerous. Security thought she’d incentivize people into riots if they kept her just in the violent ward with the others.”

Damian merely nodded in consent while Dick remained mild-mannered, and replied, “Duly noted.”

“Suit up,” Bruce commanded with an authoritative voice, leaving no room for objections.

“Yes,” Bruce offered, not leaving room for any argument. “Status on Quinn?”

“I’m sorry, but if you request contact to the command center of this Bat-Lair, you’re gonna have to use the designated code name.”

Bruce’s loud sigh made her lips twitch and judging by the snickers emanating from Dick and Damian, they too agreed with teasing Bruce just for a little bit. Several seconds passed, prompting Ellie to patiently raise her eyebrows and wonder if he was going to cave.

Bruce coughed before he finally uttered through clenched teeth, “Aether, tell me the status on Harley Quinn.”

“What’s with that look?”

Bruce tilted his head in fascination. “I don’t know. Maybe I was really afraid you’d still choose Lady Pumpkin.”

Ellie shrugged her shoulders. “Hey, Lady Pumpkin Patch, if I may. Besides, didn’t want to use my former grey hat hacker name—I mean, not that I would ever dabble in something like that.”

“Sure.” He pursed his lips mockingly with a nod. “How long did it take you to find the right alias?”

Ellie licked her lips, remembering all the possibilities and how most of them were either outlandish or already taken. Mentally, she pumped her clenched fist in frustration.

Damn you, Spectre.

“There were definitely some lists.”

“Why Aether then?”

“It originated from Greek mythology.”

Bruce hummed in acknowledgment. “Primordial deity.”

Ellie’s eyes widened in amazement at his lightning-fast intellect but admonished herself just as fast. Why was she still surprised by this man’s deep knowledge? “Exactly. The Aether is the epitome of the upper sky and basically the pure upper air that the Gods breathe.” Ellie shrugged her shoulders, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “Maybe I just like the idea of being your eye in the sky.”

Ellie could feel Dick’s presence behind her, especially when he used the back of her revolving chair she was sitting on as a support for his arms. Dick was leaning against it and casually steered her movements out of sheer amusement.

“I think it’s great,” Dick threw in and instantly managed to soothe her worries of sounding cheesy when she threw her head back to send him a grateful smile.

A certain someone sounded close to growling.

Ellie shut off her comm line to giggle to herself before she got serious again when she answered, “In her cell. Doing the plank pose…” Her eyes lingered in enthrallment on the woman’s steady core training while she was holding herself up with the underside of her arm. “Quite expertly if I do say so myself,” Ellie muttered under her breath.

“I’ll report to you when there are new status updates.”

“Ditto.”

Ellie exhaled loudly, shutting off her audio. This night turned out to be even more stressful than she anticipated. Her arms stretched out in front of her when a hand brushed her shoulder.

“Oh, dear God!” Ellie shrieked and pressed a hand against her chest. The spot where she was touched shifted from ice-cold shock to a hot mark of mortification. Her eyes wandered to her right side before her breathing turned back to normal. “You’re such a Ninja-Alfred—don’t do that to me, okay?”

Alfred’s lips twitched at the coined name before his hands clasped together inches away from his stomach. “My deepest apologies for my stealthiness, Miss Ellie.”

“Accepted,” Ellie conceded with an exhaling breath.

Tim’s small figure stepped away from behind Alfred’s tall frame like he had been silently standing there all along—

someone had been learning from Damian after all—

and clasped his fingertips on the edge of the table while gazing at the computer display.

“Hey, Timmy,” came Ellie’s softly spoken words. It was hard to resist the urge to comb her hand through his hair—the intelligent boy always had this rumpled look to him. Who didn’t want to squeeze those pinchable cheeks?

“Hi, Ellie,” Tim replied with a barely audible voice. His moss-green eyes met hers for a fragment of a second before they were lingering on Harley’s hands talking to each other.

“I thought Master Tim here needed a breath of fresh air from one of his binge-reading sessions, as the young kids like to call it,” Alfred thankfully answered her unspoken question. “We’re not here to disrupt your progress. This young gentleman wants to observe my chore of upgrading equipment.”

Ellie’s head tilted to look at the side of Tim’s face. “Someone’s turning into a young Alfred, huh?” she praised the boy before she was forced to shift her focus back to the task she was initially assigned for. “Sorry, guys, gotta devote my time to some clowns for a bit, alright?”

“Proceed. We’ll be right around the corner at the workstation,” Alfred offered with the wave of his hand and stepped backwards, prompting Tim to move ahead. The small kid’s movements were awkward and slow-paced when his footsteps thudded lightly on the ground.

“Can I hold the screwdriver, Alfred?” he inquired curiously when he placed the wooden stool near his feet and elevated himself to a higher level.

“I need steady hands though. You think you can be my little assistant?”

Tim quietly nodded, with his eyes already focusing on the shock gloves needing another upgrade.

With a smile tugging on her lips, Ellie shifted her body back until she was facing the Batcomputer again.

“Robin, what’s your status?”

Silence followed Batman’s order. A predicament which made Ellie’s head do a double-take. Taking the second monitor to her advantage, the tips of her fingers pressed fluidly against the keypad to access the GPS tracker in the Robin suit.

Ellie frowned with an intense aura once Damian’s location became visible. “I can trace Robin’s position back to the hallway close to the containment cells.”

Before her alert status was even fully articulated, Batman’s figure rushed through the air on the security footage.

“I thought we were supposed to talk to each other,” Dick mused grumpily.

A statement which incited Bruce to retort with a growling voice, “Just focus on the task at hand.”

Deep suspicion throbbed at the back of her head when Harley looked straight ahead, with her blue eyes staring intensely at something behind the containment glass. The woman was standing so close to the barrier that it was hard to distinguish which kind of emotions boiled behind those ocean eyes. Menace was radiating in waves off of her.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, a masked Joker goon stepped into view, with his back turned towards her. Chills erupted on her forearms when the clown slowly turned his head until he was looking directly into the camera.

Disgust coiled her stomach into knots as she groaned, “Screw this Purge shit.”

Someone coughing barely reached her senses. “Everything alright there, Miss Rhodes?”

“Just splendid, Alfred,” Ellie replied instantaneously before she let her fingers do their hacker magic. Her brown eyes strained vehemently on the heat signature painting a vivid picture of the threat ahead.

“I detect about a dozen hostiles. Get ready, it’s starting.”

“Understood,” Bruce replied with an ominous voice after a moment of silence.

Tension wreaked through her body when she switched between the camera channels, but unfortunately the Joker was a no-show and only his crazy thugs roamed the halls without a care in the world. Not to mention, no sign of Damian either.

Ellie’s hand covered her clenched fist which shielded her mouth. “Please, be alright,” she whispered into her palms in a prayer. “I’ve sent you Robin’s location to the tracer device. You’re about 500 feet away from him.”

“We’ll find him,” the caped crusader assured her.

“Is that you, Batman?” The notoriously high voice resounded in her ears.

Ellie’s head whipped in the air once she connected the guffawing nature of the sound with the origin. She held her breath as the sensation of ants crawling underneath her skin made the extent of her worst fears for tonight’s mission come to fruition.

Son of a bitch.

With a gradual sweep, Ellie’s eyes shifted to the left side of the screen and identified the transforming waveform of the communication link next to the codename ‘Robin’. The muscles surrounding her mouth stiffened at the Joker’s violation.

“Why won’t you talk to me, Batsy?” Joker said after heavy silence hung in the air.

All-consuming tenacity infiltrated her veins like a parasite when her upper body shifted into a more agile stance. “I’ve opened a separate channel. Joker has access to our line with the help of Robin’s radio device. Keep him talking. I still have no visual on Joker or Robin yet.”

“Got it,” Dick stated hurriedly over the radio. “En route from the Southeast corridor.”

The clown’s voice was starting to grate on her ears. “I know you’re in here. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been desperate to get in touch with me. Is something the matter, Batsy?”

“Stop playing games, Joker,” Batman grunted lowly as his blinking dot got increasingly closer to the younger vigilante, and hopefully their target as well.

“And take all the fun away?” He giggled with a demented air that didn’t fail to leave shivers down her spine. “You’re just as humorless as this little bird here.” Joker’s pregnant pause gave way to something far more sinister lurking underneath.

“You have something to say to the good ol’ bat?” A humming noise reverberated from deep within his chest. “No, nothing to say? Looks like someone’s too stubborn for his own good. I got ways of making people talk,” Joker stressed every word of that last sentence with a ground whisper.

“Leave Robin out of this.”

“Why don’t you say that to my face? But first, you’ve got to find me,” he sing-songed devilishly.

Ellie’s eyes zeroed in on the scene she was witnessing when she leaned forward, pushing her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose. She whispered quietly into the microphone device, “I got visual on Robin and Joker. They’re on the platform leading to the containment cells.”

“All this attention just for little ol’ me? Tell me something, Batsy, when are you finally going to break your rules? You barely bent them for that little birdie. I wonder … how far are you willing to go for Commissioner Gordon’s niece?”

~ Bruce POV~

Bruce forced himself to remain calm in his composure as the halls surrounding him grew darker the closer he got to the blinking dot of his son. His jaw clenched at the reminder of Jason’s fate and the meaningless abuse on Barbara.

As much as Bruce wanted to release his inhibitions to hurt his nemesis in return, under no circumstances could he unveil his pressure point to him.

Bruce’s features twisted into a disgusted grimace. “You hurt Barbara … because you wanted to prove something? If you were half a man, you would stop being a coward and face me without hiding behind a child,” he enunciated the last word calmly despite the turmoil ravaging inside him. The dark cape swooshed near the ground behind him when he rounded the corner—

and faced the one thing he had been dreading for weeks on end.

Bruce sighed under his breath. Joker was standing on the opposite end of the bridge while his crazed thugs held Damian captive with the threat of using their firearms against him.

As usual, Damian was facing his opponents with a stubborn glare and a sharp jaw. Other than a red bruise forming on his cheek.

At last, Bruce’s eyes targeted the delighted expression in the Joker’s bright green-eyed gaze. His purple glove-covered hands stretched out in a flamboyant attitude on each side, a golf club clenched tightly in one glove. “Well, here I am,” the green-dyed man giggled from afar. “And it looks like I found another Robin.”

Bruce stopped in his tracks when the words he heard from a distance echoed like a haunting trigger in his ears as well. Stretching out his gloved fingers, he resisted the urge to create some friction at his fingertips and reveal another weakness. Not necessarily an outcome Bruce preferred in the grand scheme of things.

Disappointment was the predominant expression on his face when the Joker shook his head, dropping his hands at his waist. “Not the welcome I expected.”

“How did you expect me to react exactly?”

“Grateful,” he hissed with a menacing whisper, “I’m trying to open your eyes here, but you make it so much harder than it needs to be.”

“Keep him talking,” Ellie’s whispering voice said in his ear softly and calmed his thudding heart, “Nightwing is right underneath you and will act on your signal.”

Bruce’s gaze swerved to Damian’s right and subtly hummed in consent.

“I’m listening. What do you want to show me?”

“Your true self. Don’t you realize that all it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy?” Like the thought itself was hilarious, his voice pitched even higher. “That’s how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day. You had a bad day once. Surely, you must have. You had a bad day, and it drove you as crazy as everybody else… only you won’t admit it!”

This psychology lesson was starting to grate on his nerves the longer he had to listen to Joker’s delusions, especially since he couldn’t control his son getting even more hurt the further this was prolonged.

“Barbara was innocent in all of this.”

“She was necessary. A means to an end to the grand play.”

Every single word he uttered was pulled apart with a growling sensation. “Let. Robin. Go.”

Joker’s erratic scream echoed through the asylum, “As soon as you finally admit it!” before the sound transformed into maniacal laughter. “That we’re the same.” His hands hid behind his back as he casually walked around Damian’s body when he tried to prove his point. The threatening glint of the metal shone under the asylum’s lights. “Only I realized that nothing made sense—that code of yours, of value, of morality—it means nothing. You think those rules are protecting people?”

A twisted smirk drew on his curved lips as an icy expression took over his eyes. “When I saw what a dark, awful joke the world was, I went crazy as a nut! And I’m smart enough to admit it! So why can’t you!?” The green in his eyes only intensified with the crazed look. “You’re clinging to this reality, and you’re desperately denying the reality of the situation! Everything anybody’s ever valued or struggled for—it’s all just a bad joke.”

God, that guy needed psychological help.

The shoulders in his dark-purple suit shook with erupting chuckles that grew with intensity at the mere idea. “So why can’t you see the funny side!? WHY AREN’T YOU LAUGHING!!??”

“We are not the same,” Bruce replied calmly.

Joker exhaled loudly. “You disappoint me, Batman,” he muttered gravely. Before long, his face turned dark as he slowly lifted his head and sent him a diabolical glance from under his eyelashes.

“Don’t you see?” The gloves squeaked with its movement when his grip tightened on the metal equipment. “You’re just one bad day away from being me,” Joker breathed with exertion before whooping laughter wrenched free from his chest.

“Woohoohoo,” he exclaimed gleefully and swung his golf club, striking behind him.

“No!” Bruce’s voice scrambler contorted his outcry when his eyes widened.

~ Ellie POV ~

Tears gathered in the corner of Ellie’s eyes. Her palms covered her mouth in shock to ward off the scream in mid-cry. Soundless static rang in her ears at the horrifying video revealing the pained expression underneath Damian’s mask as he was brought to his knee, holding his arm to his chest.

Robin’s health stats were displayed above his audio waveform. His heartbeat intensified at the added injury, giving off bouts of anxiety.

“Damian,” Ellie heard behind her quietly. With a stricken face, the brunette stood up from her seat and detected Tim was standing behind her—and closer than she first realized.

Her back shielded most of the Batcomputer from any onlookers, but the boy still had seen enough. Her eyes wandered towards Alfred’s concerned gaze and hoped he understood what she was asking for here. “Alfred, could you—?” she begged with a thick voice.

“Certainly, Miss Ellie,” Alfred assured her and moved in the direction of Tim.

Ellie pleaded with him, “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t do that if—”

Alfred nodded once before soothing her worries. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll be on the floor below.”

Tim’s widened eyes looking back tore at her heartstrings. But unfortunately, Ellie needed to jump in the cold water again, she realized, when she sat in the chair. Her fingers were shaking nervously above the keyboard, feeling too stunned to react. The edges of her sight blurred with a throbbing pulse until she clenched her hands into fists. Trying to fend off the chill which had taken root in her body.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ellie worked on accessing the asylum’s power grid. Her heart only hammered more vigorously in her chest at witnessing Joker deliver a blow over the head when he was lying defenselessly on the platform.

Jesus. Ellie absolutely was starting to loathe this retro network.

“Wouldn’t it be a shame if this one endured the same fate as its predecessor? You love birds with broken wings, don’t you?”

She frowned deeply in perplexed stupor when Batman wasted no time in utilizing the grappling hook—generally intended for scaling walls—

and targeted the Joker’s throat. With the flick of his wrist the criminal was dragged like an accelerated magnet towards him. The tips of Joker’s feet crawled on the metal grid underneath before a hard punch so powerful sent him flying over the ledge. Without glancing back, Batman dropped the hook, letting the end of it anchor on the edge of the railing. A dangling Joker was gasping for breath and clawing for his throat.

Nightwing sprinted under the metal overpass and spoke incredulously on comms, “That was supposed to be the signal? Really?”

“We need to get the Joker. Just keep Robin safe,” Ellie reminded Dick with intense fervor.

His black-and-blue suit jumped from underneath and with a somersault kicked an assailant in the face before landing on his feet. “On it.”

Despite the grievous injuries, Damian tried his best to fend for himself when his stepbrother came to his defense, fighting together back-to-back.

The sound of quick keystrokes was a dull diversion thumping at the back of her head when her brain tried to comprehend her viewpoint. The mess of everything was truly starting to gnaw at Ellie once Bruce’s rigid stature stalked towards the ledge.

Ambiguity marred her features as soon as her eyes switched between Joker’s hollering face—notwithstanding the life-threatening situation he was in—and Bruce just silently staring at him with a blank face. The corners of her mouth twisted with torn emotion as Joker lifted his arm in surrender, pleading with Batman to be saved.

“Is this really how you want this to end, Batsy?” he taunted with a wheezing murmur.

This was seriously getting out of hand, Ellie perceived numbly.

The electric grid was laid in front of her eyes, including the code to initiate a lockdown. At the last second, Ellie opted for a lockout instead of merely a power grid outage to keep everyone contained. She felt close to tasting her success when the blueprint glared red before an error alert displayed ‘Electricity outage initiated’.

“What?” Ellie hissed, throwing her hands in the air in utter dismay. Her gaze twisted back to the live footage and found the asylum doused into darkness.

“What was that?” Batman’s voice inquired urgently.

“That wasn’t me,” she spoke into the microphone defensively. “You’ll get power back in a few seconds,” Ellie confided in them as her fingers entered its new command into the network. She closed her eyes in immense failure after studying the asylum halls and knowing the one thing for sure she had suspected.

The Joker had already disappeared.

Ellie’s breath released with a long exhale. Her hands were tightened into fists. Her jaw was clenched while she was trying with all her might to keep her cry of frustration in. With her wide eyes and mouth agape, she was facing the screen. Feeling so empty in a way she had never felt before.

“I didn’t do this,” she stated with a dazed sensation in her chest and pressed her lips together.

Her body was operating on auto-pilot when she called in everyone for a mission debrief. Everyone except Dick who stayed behind to placate the executives at Arkham Asylum.

Ellie’s jaw hardened once this unfamiliar code was branded into her eyeballs. She rubbed the heel of her hand against her closed eyelids. Ellie just felt so drained, like she had persisted through the end of a therapy session.

A heavy exhale pushed through her chest when she stood up, only for her breathing to pick up as well. Ellie’s eyes didn’t meet anything in particular with her head bowed down.

With great and surprising finesse, her voice sounded without emotion when she called out, “I need some fresh air, okay, Alfred? The others will arrive in 15 minutes.”

Her unfocused eyes stared right ahead while Alfred said in return, “Duly noted, Miss Ellie.”

Her gait was unhurried and Ellie stroked the tips of her fingers together when she was struggling to understand why her heart started thudding in her ears while quiet tears crept in the corner of her eyes.

Why was it so hard to keep everything together?

Furiously, Ellie shook her head as the familiar walls of the corridor met her eyes. The fingertips of her right hand brushed against the wall to hold onto something as long as she wanted to remain conscious. Inhaling deep breaths turned out to be a mistake when her breathing stuttered with nervous energy. With every inhale and exhale, Ellie got closer to the entrance door of the manor—she could almost taste that whiff of relief.

She breathed out as soon as the biting air occupied her lungs. Stepping out onto the front entryway, Ellie’s hands vigorously brushed her wool cardigan, feeling grateful for the autumn chill.

Trying to find something—just anything to hold onto—her head anxiously swerved around. Every breath was starting to hurt. Even breathing in was a struggle not to break down. Hot tears only intensified the bout of frustration swelling up, threatening to swallow her whole. Ellie’s chest rose irregularly with every breath as her hands settled on her hips. Burning teardrops streamed relentlessly down her cheeks and it felt just so useless.

Damian’s anguished eyes flashing through her mind was the last and only thought taking over before control was an inconceivable sentiment.

Ellie’s hands were clenched into fists while she crouched low to her knees. A long wailing cry of despair pierced through the night sky until there was no longer any air left in her lungs. Until her vocal cords felt sore. Ellie’s chilling and stuttering breath was visible in front of her very eyes. A savage emotion lit up in those orbs when her breathing returned back to normal.

However, her lungs were still scorching ceaselessly.

“What was that?” Bruce’s cowl was still covering his face when he energetically jumped out of the Batmobile. His hardened jaw was the only thing she saw underneath that mask. His partial expression stood in frightening contrast when he walked briskly into the lair.

Ellie was still sitting behind the Batcomputer while her absentminded eyes followed Alfred helping a bruised Damian step out of the vehicle. There was a twinge in her chest just looking at him.

“There was another hacker tonight,” Ellie revealed numbly, just recalling that unexpected invasion hurt her pride enough. Something in Bruce’s eyes stood out to her. Ellie’s expression turned shocked. “You don’t believe me? I intended to initiate a lockdown and not a power outage. I meant to keep everyone contained. Not only that, but I mean, we still got Harley Quinn.”

“That’s all we got.” Bruce’s chest rumbled with emotion as another failure hit him. “We’ve got no guarantee that Joker is going to come after her again just for the fun of it.”

Alfred and Tim flanked Damian’s side when the older brother sent a silent but concerned glance towards him.

“You good?” Tim asked him with a low whisper and tilted his head in doing so.

A question to which Damian merely nodded briskly, without uttering a single word to display what he was currently feeling. The bruises on his forehead and cheek were starting to darken. Ellie believed there was more to the mask Damian was shielding behind to cover up the vulnerability, he would under no circumstances put on display.

Damian spoke up for the first time, “What’s done is done. We need to think about another strategy and regroup.”

A feeling of gratefulness hit her instantly that this kid was trying to alleviate budding tension which soon shifted into regret once her inquiring gaze lingered on the consequences of tonight. The Joker got him good—Ellie was honestly surprised how Damian was still standing upright.

Her eyes wandered back to Bruce again, worried about the effects the Joker left behind on all of them. “Do you want to talk about what just happened?”

“You mean that Damian sustained grave trauma or that I hesitated when Joker hung over the ledge?”

Ellie’s body winced at Bruce’s frankness that bordered on scathing. “He was trying to push you over the edge and there was a part of you that at least considered it.”

His eyes narrowed as his arms crossed over his chest, getting ready to push back. “You want to talk about my misgivings, that’s fine, but don’t forget that you let someone else get the better of you.”

Ellie’s features turned to stone when Bruce managed to hit the one spot she was still sore about. She was the only one who could put herself down due to her struck pride. Mortification heated up in her belly as the fight for control was hard enough, but she barely reined it in.

Alfred chose this moment to tame any more tension-filled conversations. “If I may say, I believe we all need to take a breather and get a good night’s sleep.”

Ellie could feel Bruce’s heavy stare on her while he was mutely just looking at her without saying anything.

“You’re probably right,” Bruce replied, sending the older man a brief glance before he walked off without another word.

Exhaling heavily, Ellie stared after him with unsaid emotions as her back sagged in her seat. She let a strained smile draw on her lips when her eyes met Damian’s again. “Let’s get you patched up, huh?”

The youngest Wayne child was escorted a floor below to the med bay. For the first time, his features twisted into a pained grimace once he was lying down on the operating table.

Wordlessly, Ellie’s eyes studied his injuries, and the young woman could feel her heart tear into pieces.

This was just so unfair.

Her inner upheaval must’ve shown on her expression when Damian’s chocolate-brown eyes met hers. The first droplets of sweat gathered above his eyebrows.

“I’ll survive,” he whispered with a tense voice, already understanding the inner thoughts she was stuck with.

And the tears were back in her eyes.

She forced a comforting smile on her face as much as it pained her to muster it up and nodded. Iron resolve settled in her bones the longer Ellie gazed at him. Damian might see himself as utterly wicked, but to her the young one was an innocent child who didn’t deserve this kind of pain. Only because of a man who wanted to corrupt the people around him.

Ellie ground her teeth as her decision was made final.

No more.

A/N: The following code names were in the run: Overlord, Nemesis, Corvus, Zero-Day and Grey Hat. To be honest, I wanted the alias to sound dope and have a profound meaning at the same time. Overlord would've been only cool because of the Led Zeppelin reference, lol.

Small trivia about Aether: he embodies the pure upper air that the gods breathe, as opposed to the normal air breathed by mortals. I chose Aether because Ellie's literally the eye in the sky, and I didn't want to steal "Watchtower" from Smallville.

Tagging:@mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @alwayshave-faith @ikranfuad @daydreaming-gemini @bluegalaxyprime @liadamerondjarin @steph21369 @andrewswifes-blog @yanna-banana @blackmagicwoman

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delicrieux · 4 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand)

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it.

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge.

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too.

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view.

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”.

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute.

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets.

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance.

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?”

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over.

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae.

looking hot, her message read.

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse social media au #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fic #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #myso #make you say oh

2K notes · View notes

tobesolonely · 4 years

Text

apartment 41

hi y’all! this is my very VERY late submission for @meetmeinfleetwood ‘s “To Lovers” challenge (thank u miss sadie for even still accepting this LOL) but here is some good ol fashioned strangers to lovers with the line, “will you stay the night?” . :D enjoy everyone!

warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, smut :)

word count: ~5.2k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

There were many things you loved about living on your own. You loved that your apartment was always clean. You loved that at the end of a long day, you could come back and brood in peace. You loved walking around in nothing but your underwear without the fear of anyone seeing you. You did things when you wanted, how you wanted. As a self-proclaimed introvert, there was nothing you loved more than living by yourself.

However, during slightly inconvenient moments like these, you wished you had someone else in the apartment with you.

You swore you’d been trying to get your favorite jar of pasta sauce open for at least the past ten minutes. It had been a long day at work, and at the moment all you wanted to do was heat the entire jar of sauce, boil a bunch of pasta, and call it a night. You were growing beyond frustrated–– you even contemplated just breaking the jar open. Ultimately, you decided against it lest you be met with a mouthful of glass.

Feeling defeated, you pick up your phone in frustration and hurriedly punch in your father’s number. The phone rings twice before he answers. “Hello? What’s up, hun?”

“Dad, what should I do if I can’t get this jar open? Like, it’s seriously glued shut,” you set it down on the counter probably a little too hard considering it was a glass jar. “I’m so hungry.”

“Did you try running it under hot water?”

You did.

“Hm. Try getting a good grip on it with a dish towel or something?”

Of course, you did.

“Well, I’m not driving over there just to open a jar for you,” your dad pauses. “You have neighbors, don’t you? Why don’t you knock on one of their doors?”

“Isn’t that weird?”

“No weirder than asking to borrow a cup of sugar.”

You thank your dad for the suggestion and hang up with him shortly after. He was right. You just needed someone to quickly open the jar for you and then you’d be back in your apartment, secluded from society until the next morning when you went into work. Besides, you’d been in your apartment for roughly three months now and you didn’t have a relationship with any of your neighbors. You figured now was as good a time as any to at least meet the person who lived directly across from you.

You slide on your slippers and clear the few steps it takes to reach your neighbor’s door. A faded ‘41’ was on their door, and a cheeky mat that read, ‘Did you call first?’ was at your feet.

You tried racking your brain for any memory of what your neighbor may look like, but you were drawing a blank. You were more to yourself than you initially thought you were and made a silent vow to become more social from this point on. You situate the jar of pasta sauce under your arm before placing two firm knocks against the door. Moments later, the door is flung open and you’re met with the smell of something delicious cooking, and a handsome, tall man donning a dirty apron.

“Hi, is everything alright?” he has a concerned look on his face as he looks over the top of your head and into your apartment.

“I— This is a little embarrassing,” you mumble, feeling your body grow warm. “I live by myself and I’ve been trying to get this jar of pasta sauce open for at least twenty minutes and I can’t. Do you think you can?”

His mouth slowly turns upwards into a smile before finally nodding, reaching out his hand to grab the jar of pasta sauce from you. “It’s pasta night at your place too, hmm?” His tongue is poked out of the corner of his mouth as he focuses on the task at hand.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’m just gonna heat up the entire jar of sauce, boil some spaghetti noodles, and call it a night.”

The pop! of the jar causes you to jump slightly. “That doesn’t sound like very good pasta.”

You retrieve the pasta sauce from him, quietly thanking him. “It gets the job done.”

Your neighbor hums in agreement. “‘M sure it does. If you ever wanna taste some really good pasta though, y’know where I’ll be.”

“I do,” you nod. “Well, thank you again. I’ll let you go back to making your pasta sauce that is just way better than mine.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “I appreciate it. It wasn’t any problem at all, I’m here most evenings if you ever need help opening anything else, uh…” He trails off.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. Beautiful name. I’m Harry, by the way.”

You look down at the dirty hallway carpet, a wide smile on your face. “Thank you, Harry. It was nice to finally meet you, by the way.”

“You too. Have a good night.”

You give him one more smile before turning on your heels and walking back inside your apartment, gently shutting the door. You quickly look out the peephole and catch him just as he’s closing his door, a dimpled-grin on his face.

It was Friday night when you finally got the chance to speak with him again. You were sitting on your kitchen stool nursing a glass of wine and waiting for your frozen pizza to heat in the oven when you heard someone coming down the hallway. As you had been doing all week since your interaction with Harry, you set your glass of wine down and shuffle over to your peephole, eyes scanning the small amount of hallway that was visible.

Harry comes into view seconds later, four overflowing bags of groceries precariously balanced along the length of his arms.

“Fuck.” You hear him mutter to himself. He attempts to reach in his pocket for his keys but once he realizes he can’t do so without setting at least one bag of groceries down, he lets out a loud huff in what you assume to be annoyance. You scuttle to your shoe rack and slip your shoes on before quickly flinging your door open.

“Hi! Need help?”

Harry jumps and you both watch as the contents of the bag he was getting ready to set down spill at his feet. “Now I do,” he’s already picking his groceries off the floor. “You scared the shit out of me. Also, were you watching me?”

Your face grows warm. “I heard someone coming down the hallway so I wanted to see who it was.”

“Oh, really?” Harry questions, pausing to look up at you. “You came out of your place so quickly, felt like I was bein’ watched or something.”

You know he’s teasing you but you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed that he caught onto what you were doing so quickly. Instead of dignifying his statement with an answer, you bend down and begin helping him pick up his spilled groceries. His hand grazes yours lightly as you both reach for a can of black beans, now slightly dented. It lingers for a moment before he retracts it to retrieve a different item. A quick, side-eyed glance reveals that his cheeks are tinged red.

“What are you making for dinner?” You ask him, standing up and dusting off the knees of your leggings.

“Uh, veggie chili. S’one of my favorites–– hey, is something burning?”

Your eyes widen and you abruptly turn away from Harry without so much as a goodbye, hurrying toward your kitchen that was starting to grow foggy from smoke produced by your oven. You were so preoccupied with helping Harry gather up his spilled groceries that you had totally forgotten you had a frozen pizza in the oven and if the smell was any indication of its current state, it was most likely inedible at this point.

Reaching for the oven mitt you kept next to the knives on the counter, you open the oven and fan the smoke out of your face, holding back a gag from the burnt smell. Your fire alarm immediately goes off once you open the oven and Harry appears a second later, a concerned look on his face. He looks around for your smoke detector and once he sees it he stands on his tiptoes to turn it off. You set your now blackened pizza on top of the oven and turn on the microwave fan. Harry’s already opening windows around your apartment, fanning the air with a throw pillow from your couch.

“Thanks,” you mumble, a wave of embarrassment washing over your body. You feared that Harry probably thought you were the most incompetent person on this planet–– first, you couldn’t get a jar open, and now here you are nearly setting your apartment on fire. “Guess I should’ve set a timer, huh?”

“Yeah, ‘spose you should’ve,” he replies. “It’s okay, though. ‘M about to get started on dinner, you can join me? If you’d like, that is. Maybe you’ll have a new recipe so you can stop eatin’ all this frozen shit.”

“Leave my frozen foods out of this,” you playfully scold him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Thank you for the invite though, that would be great, actually. I’m gonna get this cleaned up and then I’ll be right over?”

“Sounds good,” he neatly situates your pillow back on the couch. “I’ll see you in a bit, Y/N. Door will be unlocked.”

Once Harry’s gone, you move into action, quickly tossing the pizza into the trashcan before running to your bathroom. You try to remember if you brushed your teeth earlier that day but you can’t, so you brush them again just to be safe. You hastily examine yourself in the mirror before deciding you weren’t going to do anything more, not wanting to come off as trying too hard. You were almost one hundred percent certain Harry was just being neighborly–– nothing indicated that he found you attractive, so you didn’t want to make it too obvious that you found him to be the most stunning man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Locking your door, you clear the distance from your welcome mat to his in five steps flat, and take a deep breath before letting yourself in.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that Harry had more skill in the kitchen than an everyday home-chef did. He all but floated around the room, chopping with ease and finesse. The two of you had settled into a comfortable silence as he worked and you watched. Billy Joel played softly over his Bluetooth speaker, and he’d occasionally stop what he was doing to take a sip of his wine and look over his shoulder at you, almost as if he was checking if you were still there because you were being so quiet.

Your head was starting to grow fuzzy as you finished your third glass of wine that night, so you make the (responsible) decision to cut yourself off for the night. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“Course y’can,” he replies quietly, not stopping what he was doing. “Give me just a second and I’ll get ya––”

“Oh, I can get it myself. Just tell me where the cups are.”

Harry stops chopping and turns completely to face you, an amused look on his face. “You’re plastered, aren’t ya?”

“No? Why do you think that?”

Harry laughs. “You can’t hear yourself stumblin’ over your words, but I can. Jus’ stay right there and I’ll get your water. You want ice?”

“How do you know how to cook so well?”

“Culinary school,” he responds coolly. “Ice?”

You’re not sure if you are as drunk as Harry says you are, but you were currently finding the fact that Harry went to culinary school the coolest thing ever. “A chef? No way! What kind of chef?”

“I’m a Sous Chef. Gonna give ya a bit of ice.”

“I can’t believe I live across from a chef! No wonder you were giving me shit for eating canned pasta sauce,” you take the glass of water from Harry’s outstretched hand, thanking him. “Even your water tastes better than mine!”

“I think you’re just pissed, Y/N,” Harry responds, eyes crinkled from smiling. “Do y’like cooked carrots?” Your nose wrinkles in response to Harry’s question and he mutters something about how he’ll leave them out before turning back towards the stove to check on his food.

“How old are you, Harry?”

“Just turned twenty-seven. Yourself?”

“I’m twenty-four!” You exclaim, a little too excited. “Where are you from?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrow raised. “England. What gave it away?”

“Your accent.”

He hums, a small smirk on his lips. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from here. Just moved back home from my college town but didn’t wanna move back in with my parents, so here I am.”

“No roommates, you said?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’, taking a big gulp of water. “You don’t either, do you? I just realized I haven’t heard or seen anyone else since I’ve been here.”

“I do not. I had a roommate when I first moved in but he ended up gettin’ engaged and moving in with his fiancée, so it’s just me for now. I think I like livin’ on my own better, though.” You watch as Harry reaches into his cabinet and retrieves two bowls and starts spooning your dinner into them. He sets the bowl in front of you and hands you a spoon, nodding at you to try it.

You bring a spoonful up to your mouth, blowing a few times before shoving it into your mouth. Your eyes widen at the amazing flavor that fills your mouth, and your eyes diverge to his. “This is incredible!”

Harry looks down at his bowl of food, a shy grin on his face. “Thanks, Y/N. Glad you like it.” He grabs his glass of wine from behind him and moves around to the other side of the island to sit next to you.

“Are you a vegetarian?” You ask, mouth full.

“Somewhat. I’m a pescatarian,” he shovels a spoonful of the chili into his mouth. “More wine?”

“I better not,” you reply, mind still fuzzy from all you’ve drunk throughout the night. “This is seriously so good, Harry. You’re cute, you can cook, you’re nice… you’re like, a triple threat!”

“Callin’ me cute?”

“C’mon, you know you are,” you answer boldly. “I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he takes a sip of wine. “You’re a pretty big looker yourself.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“You flirted with me first.”

“So what if I did?”

Harry lets out a quiet scoff, going back to eating his food. After a moment he says, “I wouldn’t mind.” You smile to yourself and continue eating, bringing the bowl up to your lips and tipping your head back so you could get every last drop of Harry’s veggie chili. He gets up to get another helping of food as you get up to place your bowl in the sink, lifting your sleeves to wash it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he brushes past you, going back to where he was previously seated. “I’ll clean up later. Do y’want some dessert?”

“I think I will take some more wine,” you grab the bottle from the center of the island along with your glass, pouring a generous amount. “This is good. Nothing like the cheap bottles I get from Target.”

“I’m glad you like it. Thought I’d pull this one out tonight, always pairs well with dishes like this…” He trails off. “Anyway, yeah. Glad y’like it.”

You and Harry finish off the bottle of wine no more than thirty minutes later, having by now situated yourselves on his couch. He turned something onto the television (you think it was Iron Chef), but neither one of you were paying any attention to it. Harry was asking about what you studied in college, how you like your current career and your favorite things to do in your free time. You were asking him about England, his family back home, and why he chose to go to culinary school.

He has a way about him that captivates you— just completely pulls you in— and you never want to stop listening to him speak. Harry leans close to you when you talk, almost as if you’re telling him a secret that he doesn’t want to miss out on.

“I think ‘m jus’ as drunk as you are now,” Harry whispers, letting out an adorable giggle. “Goin’ into work tomorrow is gonna be a proper pain.”

“No one told you to try and outdrink me!” You yell, tucking your knees under your bottom. “Now we’re both drunk, what good does that do?”

“Think it’s more fun this way, don’t you?” Harry lets out a little burp, his face flushing. “Wanna help me clean the kitchen?”

“What happened to cleaning it later?” You stand up from the couch, wobbling slightly before catching your balance.

“Well, I didn’t think we’d get drunk off our arses and sit here talkin’ til one in the mornin’, did you?” He stands up as well, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back as he scooches past you.

“There’s no way it’s that late,” you retort, checking the time on your phone. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to overextend my stay. I’ll help you clean this place up and then get going.”

Harry swats a hand in front of his face, shaking his head. “Overextend your stay? Of course y’didn’t, more than happy to have you here. Do you wanna wash or dry?”

“I’ll wash since I don’t know where anything goes.” You move to the sink and roll up your sleeves, moving the small number of dishes in the sink all to one side so you can fill the other side with water. Silence falls over you again as you clean the dishes from dinner and soon enough you’re done, drying your hands on your t-shirt.

“Thank you, Y/N. We make a good team, huh? Got that done quickly, didn’t we?” He folds the dishtowel in half neatly and hangs it over the handle of his oven.

“Yeah,” you yawn, slipping on your shoes that had been discarded earlier in the night by the door. “I’ll get out your hair and let you get to bed, then. Thank you for having me over and for cooking that delicious dinner, I enjoyed it. I owe you.”

“If it’s frozen food, don’t worry about it,” he jokes, moving to open the door for you. “If you want to cook me something, though…”

“How about I take you out for dinner? I stay out of the kitchen, and you’ll get something edible and halfway decent. A win-win?”

Harry laughs. “‘M lookin’ forward to it. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“I couldn’t decide between Italian or sushi but since you’re a pescetarian, I figured sushi was our best bet.”

Harry looks away from the menu and at you, clearing his throat before speaking. “That was really thoughtful. Surprised you remembered considering how loaded you were.”

“For the last time, I was not that drunk,” you defend yourself, gently kicking his calf from underneath the table. “By the end of the night, you had way more than me!”

“Maybe so,” he replies nonchalantly, looking back at the menu. “Let’s not forget who can handle their alcohol better, though.”

You let out an indignant hmph, and get to scouring the menu yourself. You didn’t eat sushi very often so you figured you’d probably just get whatever Harry got.

“Let’s do sake bombs.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Sake bombs? Are you tryin’ to get me drunk again?”

“They’re fun! Just one?”

Harry shakes his head at you and grins before waving over the waitress, asking her politely for two sake bombs. She comes back a few minutes later with the alcohol and chopsticks balanced precariously on a tray, setting them in front of you and Harry respectively.

The waitress stands back and says, “Ichi… ni… san… sake bomb!” The two of you pound the table until your shot glasses fall into the cup and then you throw your heads back, chugging down the cocktail. When you finally finish chugging your drink and look back up at Harry, he’s staring at his watch as if he’s been waiting for you to finish for ages.

“Oh, you’re finally done? I was startin’ to grow old,” he teases, taking a sip of his water. “Do you know what you wanna order?”

“You’re annoying,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “But I’m gonna get whatever you get.”

“Really? You don’t have any preferences?”

You shake your head. “I don’t eat sushi very often so I honestly don’t know what I should get. I’ll try anything, though.”

“You really did pick this place just for me, didn’t you?” He has a teasing tone to his voice, but his gaze has softened.

“I told you I owed you, didn’t I?”

At this, Harry just gives you a small smirk and signals the waitress over once again to order for the both of you. While you wait for your food to come, you fall into easy conversation with Harry again. It seems like you can talk about anything under the sun with him–– no topic was off-limits, and nothing was awkward. He had to have been one of the most interesting people you’ve ever met in your life. He was well-traveled, knew several languages, and loved to sing and write music in his spare time. Although you felt your own life was rather boring in comparison to his, he made you feel just as accomplished and interesting as he was.

“That was good,” he tells you after you’ve both finished eating, wiping his mouth with his napkin and slouching in his chair slightly. “Think ‘m gonna need to unbutton my pants here in a second.”

“Me too,” you answer with a laugh, making eye contact with the waitress. You mouth, ‘check, please’ and she nods, reappearing at your table with the check. As you’re digging in your purse to pull out your wallet, Harry reaches over and grabs the check before you can even look at it. He reaches in his pants pocket for his wallet and slides his card in before you’ve even looked back up.

“What are you doing?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Did you forget that I’m the one that owes you?” He shrugs.

“You can make it up to me another way. Don’t worry about it,” his voice is low and gravelly. The waitress comes back to collect the check from Harry and after he receives his receipt, he reaches into his wallet to place a cash tip for her on the table. “Ready to get home?”

Home. You know he only worded it that way because you live directly across from him, but you would like going “home home” with Harry, at least for tonight. There was no denying the sexual tension between the two of you was electric–– anyone who was paying attention to the two of you could probably sense it. You wordlessly nod and follow Harry out of the restaurant, intertwining your fingers with his when he holds his hand back for you to grab.

He stands on the curb and expertly hauls a cab, opening the door and gesturing your in ahead of him. Harry’s hand moves to rest on your leg as he makes small-talk with the taxi driver, asking him if he was having a busy night and how much longer he thought he’d be out for. Harry pays the cab fare and wishes the driver a good rest of his night before all but dragging you out of the taxi.

“What’s got you in such a rush?” You ask Harry, a teasing

“Oh? Did I misread the situation? I thought–– this is embarrassing, never mind…” his tight grip loosens on your hand but you pull him back into you, laughing at how adorable he was.

“Harry! I’m joking, I know what’s going on,” you rub your thumb across the top of his. “I was just messing with you.” You see him visibly let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t mess with me like that, Y/N!” You’re still standing outside of your apartment complex in the dark, as close to one another as you can be without completely melting into each other. He releases his hand from your tight grip and places it gently on your face instead. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

“Please,” you reply breathlessly, standing on your toes. Harry cranes his neck to meet your lips and presses them to yours softly, pulling back only when the both of you are near gasping for air.

“Was that nice?” He asks, thumb caressing your face. Your noses are pressed together and you just nod, still too breathless to speak. “Maybe we can take this inside, then?”

Once inside Harry’s apartment, he nearly rips off the new shirt you bought specifically for your date with him, discarding it by his door.

“Careful with that,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I just got that today. Tag is still onnit.”

You feel Harry laugh into the side of your neck, walking your backward towards his couch. “I’ll cover the cost if it’s ruined then, how’s tha’?”

Harry sucks harshly on your neck, causing you to let out a low moan. “I guess that’s fine.”

“That’s fine?” Harry mocks you, guiding you onto the coach. You hum in agreement as you sink further down into the couch, letting out a sigh of bliss as he peppered kisses along your breast.

Your movements are needy— desperate. Neither one of you were trying to hide how badly you wanted to fuck the other. Harry smashing his lips onto yours once more, his breath warm and tongue salty from all the sushi he had earlier consumed. He attempts to pull his own shirt from his body while not breaking the kiss, and you let out a satisfied hum when he succeeds. Now you’re both shirtless and the only thing stopping you from fucking each other proper is being still fully clothed on your bottom halves.

“Can we get these off?” You ask, tugging at your own bottoms. Harry helps you pull down your tight jeans, struggling slightly to get them off your sweaty legs. Once your jeans are off your underwear follows immediately after, carelessly strewn around the room like the rest of your clothing.

“Y/N…” Harry hungrily takes the sight of your body in, eyes darkening with lust. “You might be the death of me, did ya know that?”

“I do now.”

He sucks on his index and middle fingers and lowers them down to your core, slipping them inside you with ease. You hadn’t realized how wet you were until Harry was knuckles deep, curling his fingers tantalizingly slow inside of you. “Do ya?”

You bite down hard on your lip, nodding at Harry’s rhetorical question. “Obviously.”

He flips the two of you over, so that you’re now straddling him and he’s laying below you. “Take what you want, then–– oh wait, condom?” You nod and move as Harry digs around in his pants, pulling out his wallet.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys that keeps a condom in their wallet.”

He rips it open with his teeth in one swift motion and unbuckles his pants, giving himself a couple of quick strokes before sliding it on. “What if I am? Was quick and effective, wasn’t it?” He rests his hands on your hips and pulls you back on top of him, connecting his lips with yours again. “Now you can take what you want.”

Your hands move up to grip Harry’s shoulders as you slowly sink onto him, wincing at the stretch and burn an unfamiliar partner sometimes brings. You make eye contact with Harry as you take a moment to adjust to his size, noting how his grip on your hips gets even tighter.

“S’big,” you mutter, rolling your hips slightly. Below you, Harry squeezes his eyes shut. “So big.”

“Tell me how badly you want it.”

“You already know. Don’t feel like being teased.”

Harry juts his hips up to meet you slamming down onto him, groaning out loudly from the pleasure the added motion brings. At one point he situates himself so he’s sitting straight up, using his left hand as a support for him to rest back on while his right hand is tweaking at your nipples. He’s letting out a slew of curse words, letting you know it felt just as good for him as it did for you.

“Ridin’ m’cock so good,” he says under his breath, bringing the hand that was playing with your nipples to rest in between your legs. Whenever you slam back onto him you feel him not only deep in the pit of your stomach but also on your clit, bringing you maximum pleasure. “Don’t be so quiet, let me know when ‘m makin’ you feel good, love.”

“I’m already close,” you admit, feeling a bit embarrassed at how it took Harry doing next to nothing to work an orgasm out of you. Well, not literally–– but it felt like it. “Feel s’good inside me, you’re so big.”

Harry lets out a low moan from your words, throwing his head back in pleasure. It hits the arm of his couch with a quiet thump but his pace doesn’t falter in the slightest. “You’re gonna make me cum if ya keep strokin’ my ego like that.”

“You asked for it,” you reply, changing your move from riding to grinding as you were starting to grow fatigued. “I’m close.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and let them roam the expanse of your body, wanting nothing more than to receive maximum pleasure.

“Can feel ya squeezin’ ‘round me,” Harry says, taking his lip in between his teeth. “Know you’re about to come, pet.”

"Harry..." you warn, your movements growing more desperate and sloppy. You weren't normally a selfish lover but your head was so clouded from pleasure, all you could think about at the moment was your release. Harry leans his head back on the couch again and now uses his two free hands to bring you to orgasm–– one is rubbing circles on your clit and the other one is gripping at your breasts as you use your last bit of strength to swivel your hips on him.

You're coming undone not ten seconds later, loudly moaning out the man's name who laid under you. You don't slow your movements, knowing he was right behind you.

"Y/N, fuck, 'm gonna come-" he lets out a low, guttural moan, coming immediately after announcing it.

The sounds of you trying to steady your breathing are the only sounds that fills the room as you both come down from your respective highs. Harry runs his hands along your bare body, eyes hooded from the orgasm that just wracked his body. As you’re beginning to uncurl yourself from Harry, he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Will you stay the night?”

You didn’t know what sleeping with Harry meant for your relationship going forward, but you were glad you knocked on Apartment 41.

#harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #apartment 41 #thanks for reading!

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years

Text

Part Two. Jackbox Shenanigans

warnings: swearing word count: 2.6k (not including pictures) behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

Y/n flinched awake, startled by the sounds traveling from the kitchen. Once again, the frosty air pricked her skin, trying to convince her to not move, to stay in bed under the warm blankets. Despite the feeling pulling her into her bed, she rubbed her eyes and sat up, grabbing her phone from her nightstand. Texts from Karl flooded her screen and she replied as she took her comforter off her mattress and wrapped it around herself. She pattered to the source of the noise to find her roommate was making food.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Naomi asked, eyes wide with concern as she looked at Y/n. "I dropped a pan."

Y/n, who was observing the world through one squinted eye, shook her head and she sat at the counter in the kitchen. "No, I should be awake anyway."

"You're usually awake much earlier. Late night?"

Y/n nodded. "George streamed and we all talked for a little after."

"Oh, yeah, I watched his stream this morning..." she started, eyes focused on the food in front of her but Y/n still caught the mischievous glint in her roommate's eyes.

"Of course you did," Y/n laughed through a yawn. "That's your lover."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Maybe if you gave me his number he would be."

"He doesn't give it to many people. I just barely got it and I've been friends with him for a year. I'm pretty sure Karl doesn't even have it."

Naomi groaned, though Y/n knew it was a joke... for the most part. She got another text from Karl, and consulted Naomi for a second opinion.

"Should I post this?" Y/n asked, lazily holding up her phone with a picture on the screen. Naomi squinted as she looked back over her shoulder. "Karl keeps yelling at me too."

"Yeah! That's a cute outfit. Make sure to credit Karl or he'll yell at you for that as well."

"No chance I'm doing that."

Incoming FaceTime... karol <3

Y/n hit accept and held the phone up to make a face at Karl. He mimicked the position. "Hello, sir."

"Hello, ma'am."

"What are you doing?" she asked him, walking to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her comforter dragging on the floor behind her as it continued to protect her from the cold.

Karl got distracted and started messing with something out of the camera view. "Um, trying to figure out what to do for my stream tonight. What about you?"

"I'm waiting for you to give me a fit check!" Y/n yelled. Karl quickly looked at the camera and smiled. He set his phone down on his desk and ran backward so his whole body was in frame. He posed awkwardly a few different ways before running back and resuming his position.

"Yes!" Y/n hyped with a mouthful of toothpaste. "Let's go, Karl! Karl with the old man sweater!!"

He giggled. "You're the one that told me to buy it."

"Because it's sick. Doesn't mean it didn't belong to an old man before you."

Karl pouted before his face lit up. "Guess what. I met a girl."

"Oh?" Y/n cooed. "Where? Do you have pictures? Is she cute?"

"She's Jimmy's new cameraman. Camerawoman. I don't have pictures, and yes. She's very cute." His cheeks turned red and Y/n smiled, flipping off the bathroom light and heading to her closet. She threw her comforter back on the bed and tried to pick out an outfit.

"Come on, bud, elaborate. What's her name? Have you asked her out yet?"

"You don’t get to know her name, I don’t want to jinx anything. Plus, you’ll just look ‘Mr Beast crew’ and find out anyway. Also, no, I haven’t. I'm pretty sure she thinks I hate her because I have not said a single word to her. I get so nervous when she's around I freeze up and just like... act weird. And then as soon as she's gone, Chris freaking roasts me so bad."

"Aw, I can teach you how to flirt if you want!"

"Yeah, okay," he scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"What's with the attitude? I'm great at flirting."

"No, you're not. I watched Gogy's stream last night."

"What does that have anything to do with anything?"

"I heard the way you spoke to Dream."

"What?!"

"You have zero game, Y/n. Absolutely none. Zilch, if you will."

"Yeah, because I wasn't flirting with him?"

"Not successfully, at least."

"Karl, what?" Y/n laughed but she was so confused. "No part of me was trying to flirt with anyone in that stream."

"Oh, come on," Karl groaned. "Don't do this again. Don't pretend to not like a guy and then cry to me when you're wack ass attempts don't win him over."

"Karl," Y/n started, looking directly at him. "I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about. I wasn't flirting with him. I do not like him."

"I'm just saying, you talk about him a lot. Like, you always panic when he interacts with your posts because you're scared he's going to DM you right after. And you gush about him a lot."

"I do not gush. I admire the hard work he puts into his videos but I talk the same about him as I do with George and Sapnap. The only difference is I'm friends with them and not Mr. Minecraft. He's intimidating, that doesn't mean I have a crush on him."

Karl stared for a moment, trying to read Y/n's expression to detect any lies. "You'd tell me if you did, right?"

"Karl, I tell you everything. I'd tell you if I murdered your family." They both laughed. "It's impossible to hide anything from you, you're my best friend."

"Okay, sweet, but please don't murder my family, just to be clear."

"I won't. I love your mom too much."

"Well, how was meeting Dream, then? Despite apparently not being in love with him?"

"It was cool. Terrifying because it felt very forced but the four of us hung out on the call after George ended his stream and he was much more relaxed."

"That's true. Aren't we all?"

"Not you! You're the exact same person on and off camera. Just a little ball of giggles."

Karl giggled which made them both laugh more. Suddenly, as if he completely forgot until that moment, Karl sat up quickly and yelled, "What am I going to do for the stream?"

Y/n shrugged. "See if anyone wants to play Jackbox. Chat always loves those and it's relatively easy to throw together last minute. You just need to find people that are free to play."

"Genius. Who should we invite?"

"We?"

"Yeah. It was your idea, you have to play."

"But, I've never played! And I barely know all your friends so I wouldn't get half the inside jokes. I'd be a boring addition."

"Please? They're your friends too! You just talked to Sapnap and George for four hours yesterday and George was the only one playing anything. That's friendship if I've ever seen it."

"But... others.... like literally everyone besides Sap and George...."

"Things like this are how you get to know them better. Besidessss, you're never boring."

"Fine, I'll play."

"YES!" he shouted. "Okay, who should we invite?"

**********

Y/n huffed and scooted her chair closer to her desk. She pulled up Discord and hovered over the voice chat everyone was in. An overwhelming number of voices chaotically spoke over each other as soon as she joined.

"Oh no," she mumbled.

"AYYEE!!" a voice yelled, the green bubble lighting around Quackity's name confirming her suspicions.

"Aye," she said back less enthusiastic. "Hi everyone."

"She's here!" George cheered.

Y/n could hear Sapnap huff. "Finally. Geesh."

"This isn't even your stream, calm down." Y/n's eyes scanned the names on the left to read who else was involved in tonight's games. She had suggested a few people to Karl but wasn't sure about the final list. Besides the boys who had already greeted her were BadBoyHalo and Dream.

"Hello, Bugsy! It's nice to meet you! I'm BadBoyHalo."

Y/n smiled widely at his voice. "Hi, BadBoyHalo! Nice to meet you too."

Her eyes slowly traveled to the last name on the list, which had yet to greet her. She wasn't bitter, but she was curious why he hadn't said anything yet. The boys hyped up him talking about her so much but she had yet to feel that energy from him. She picked at the bottom of her hoodie, eyes darting between the names as they lit up when someone spoke.

"Is Dream still AFK?" Sapnap asked.

"I think so," Bad replied.

Maybe that's the only reason he hadn't said anything. Y/n felt stupid for thinking it had anything to do with her.

"He's probably coding something or something like that," George teased.

"Haha nerdy ass man," Quackity cackled.

"Language."

"Don't you also code shit, George?" Sapnap called out. "You're probably helping him test something after this, huh? As Quackity said, nerdy ass man."

"You know what, Sapnap? I'm not sure I like your attitude all that much."

Y/n smiled. Despite feeling nervous, she was already having fun just listening to everyone talk. The real nerves would kick in when they were live in front of tens of thousands of people and she would have to be funny.

A message popped up in the general chat, notifying everyone that Karl was joining the voice call soon so they shouldn't say anything bad.

"Everyone say something weird," Quackity directed.

Discord dinged and Karl's name joined the list on the side. "AAAHHHH-!" he started yelling over everyone to let them know he was here in case they were saying anything bad. With his luck, they were going to say stuff anyway to mess with him.

"So, yeah, that's how I lost my virginity," Quackity said as if he just finished a story.

"To a prostitute?" Sapnap added quickly. "Wow, I never thought you... oh Karl!"

"Language!" Bad gasped.

"What the..." Karl laughed loudly. "What did I just join?"

"Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry," Quackity apologized, which was hard to make out since he was laughing so hard, surprised at what Sapnap added to his joke.

"Bad, you can't say language about a prostitute," Sapnap defended. "That's really rude of you. Maybe it's a little unconventional but they're just tryna make some money the best way they know how."

George laughed with Quackity as Bad sputtered. "I-I said language about what Quackity said!"

"What, virginity?" Karl asked innocently and Bad yelled again.

"Bad hates people who have had sex!" Y/n called, causing Quackity to laugh loudly.

"Bad! How could you?! That's so messed up!"

"Wait, guys, is everyone here?" Karl asked.

"Dream isn't. We don't know where he went."

Karl groaned and started typing something, presumably yelling at Dream to join.

"Let's goooo! We're popping off!" Quackity started saying, stalling. "We're popping off!" George joined him, becoming absolute fools to keep the chat entertained.

"Okay, he's here!" Karl said. "Everyone's here!"

"I'm here, I'm here, sorry. I was... yeah, sorry," Dream stuttered out.

"Welcome back, Dream!" Bad chirped.

"Hello!" he replied. Unexpectedly, his next greeting was directed at Y/n. "Hi, Bug."

Y/n instantly got shy for no discernable reason. She blamed it on his voice and its ability to manipulate emotions any way he wanted. That and she was getting attention from someone first. "Hi," she squeaked back, hoping the contrast of her icy hands would cool her face enough to focus on the game.

"Bugsy, you are adorable," Bad stated simply.

"Sapnap! What did you just send me?" George asked loudly, and just like that, the attention was off of her and she could breathe again.

"What?" Sapnap feigned innocence.

This was going to be a long game.

"Let's play!" Karl decided. "Should we warm up with some Quippy?"

Y/n focused intensely on her answers, silently hoping the others would find her funny.

"Oh my gosh," she mumbled as everyone else finished writing. "Y'all, I'm about to get Quiplashed so hard. Don't make fun of me."

"I seriously doubt it," Dream said. "You can't possibly be worse than George at this game."

"Shut up, we always- it's like 3 am my time. I can't, like, think of things 'cause my brain isn't functioning."

"Yeah, that's why," Sapnap teased.

"Surreee," Dream said.

The first round wasn't too bad. Y/n was in 5th place but she got quite a few laughs so she didn't care too much about where she stood. She got a notification from Dream on Twitter as everyone laughed at one of Quackity's answers.

Y/n looked back at her screen and saw the new prompt and answers. She read them quickly as everyone was laughing and with a few seconds left to choose, voted for the one on the left. It was funnier anyway.

She loosened up substantially after another round, and she knew it was mostly because Dream had reached out to her. Something about him comforted her and made her feel safe, which warmed her heart.

"Bugsy! What the hell, that's so messed up. You're so messed up," Quackity yelled, laughing at the answer on the screen. They were playing Survive the Internet and her comment got taken way out of context, just as the game intended.

"Oh my gosh!" Karl cackled loudly. "Bugsy, I didn't know you felt that way. Oh my gosh? They're just kids?? Bugsy out the gang?"

Y/n hid her face in her hands and laughed. "Noooo!! Wait I never knew- I didn't know I was ever in the gang?"

"She really said, 'infant children? slaughter them all'," Sapnap joked.

"You know, I think you'd get along really well with Technoblade," Dream added. "Though his specialty is orphans, as it appears."

"No, no, no, whoever wrote that heading is SO messed up!" Y/n defended, rereading the heading that made her comment look bad. She knew it was a game but all the attention on her was making her embarrassed. "Who would think to put that?"

"Everyone cancel Busgy!" Karl yelled.

"Karl, no! You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I don't know how I feel about my best friend killing children..."

"Karl!!"

"Nooo," Bad protested softly. "I like Bugsy. Don't cancel her."

"Everyone vote!"

The article with Y/n's name turned out to be Dream's. "Dream! What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled, causing him to wheeze loudly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I wanted point."

The whole night ended up being like that. Y/n had a lot of fun and by the end, she felt a lot more comfortable with all of them. Quackity, Karl, and Sapnap were loud and very high energy while George and Bad were quieter. Dream was half and half, sometimes matching Quackity's volume and sometimes going a while without saying a word. Overall, Y/n had a lot of fun and hoped to let back in the gang in the future.

**********

PREVIOUS • NEXT

**********

A/N: WOOO PART TWOOO!! Hope you guys enjoyed this part! Also thank you so much for all the love on the first part!! I did not expect it to get as much attention as it did!!!!!

we clearly haven’t got to dream and yn being close yet bc they literally met the day before this but i added a small little dream/yn moment :] pls let me know how you liked this part!!!!!!!!!!!!

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan

#rpf #real person fiction #dream x reader #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #dreamwastaken smau #dream smau #social media fiction #social media au

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thatshithurted8 · 3 years

Text

Could’ve Been

Summary: In which Jeff deals with the repercussions of not acting on his feelings towards reader.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: angst, drinking and swear words.

You couldn’t help yourself, but to giggle while you made dinner for Jeff, Jonah and yourself. The sound of your laugh causes Jeff to look up from his barbers station and over to you, a smile appearing on his face at the sound of it.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just thinking about yours and Jonah’s bits.” You state. Jeff just finished filming a barbershop episode with Bryce Hall, but by now the crew and Bryce were long gone.

Jeff smiles to himself as he puts his multiple hair clippers away. Even though you told Jeff and Jonah from the beginning you didn’t want to be in any of the episodes you always found yourself being in them anyway. Whether that be you doing the boys hair for an episode to having your witty remarks and contagious laugh be heard in every video.

Little did you know though, there was a reason why you were such a consistent guest on the show. This reason being the developing feelings both Jeff and Jonah harbored for you. Despite both boys openly flirting with you in seemingly every episode you were in you still remained oblivious to their feelings. However, as time went on unbeknownst to either Jeff or Jonah you started to reciprocate feelings for Jeff. You loved Jonah, but he was more like a brother to you than anything.

As more episodes of you appearing in were published to YouTube it was clear to not only the fans, but to Jeff as well what was happening. Fans constantly pointed out that it was obvious there was a love triangle going on whether it be a bit or not. They concluded this from all of the clips of both boys openly flirting with you along with all of the longing stares they gave you. It made Jeff giddy to know you most likely felt the same way about him the way he felt about you, but he never acted on it. He couldn’t do that to Jonah especially with how obvious it was the boy was in love with you.

“What’re ya making?” Jeff asks walking into the kitchen and peering over your shoulder after finally cleaning up his station. Jonah looks up from his phone from his spot at the kitchen’s island and he can feel his stomach drop at the proximity of you two. He watches as you pick up the spoon you were using to stir and allowed Jeff to taste the homemade tomato sauce for the spaghetti you were making.

“Tastes like what my ma makes, maybe even better, but don’t let her know I said that.” Jeff compliments causing heat to rush to your face and ears as he smiles at your reaction. This seemingly wholesome interaction between you two gets cut short by Jonah coughing and standing up.

“I’m not feeling spaghetti tonight I’m gonna eat out instead.” He says pushing his chair in underneath the island before walking out of his apartment without saying another word.

You look over at Jeff confused, but he just looks down at the ground not knowing what to say while slowly moving away from you. Jeff knew why Jonah was upset. After all Jonah has told him many times he likes you and Jeff did go a little over board with the flirting with you in today’s episode.

“That was weird. What was that about?” You ask Jeff as he sits down at the island and pulls his phone out to text Jonah. Jonah loved your cooking and never missed an opportunity to have some.

Jeff shrugs his shoulders and puts his phone away. “He’s been stressed lately, I don’t know why.” He lies. “We should move up to my apartment he’s gonna probably want to be alone when he gets back.”

“Poor Jonah, I hope he can relax.” You pout while you turn off the stove to bring the food you were cooking up to Jeff’s. The brunette helps you, but can’t help but to feel guilty at your obliviousness. Jeff loved flirting with you after all his feelings for you were strong, but he felt bad for his best friend. It was obvious you didn’t reciprocate Jonah’s feelings let alone were you aware of them.

The two of you carefully maneuver up to Jeff’s apartment with kitchen towels underneath the hot pots so neither of you would burn yourselves. As you get back into the groove of cooking again Jeff turns his stereo on, the Beatles echoing throughout the apartment.

Ever since Jonah seemingly stormed off earlier Jeff has been acting kind of stand offish which you couldn’t help but to notice. However, as each Beatles track played he started to return back to his playful self and your laughs of encouragement egged him on to continue singing along horribly to the music.

After an intense performance of Jeff playing the air guitar and singing to Helter Skelter Come Together came on, making you squeal. That was your go to song for karaoke night. Jeff smiles at you as you grab a ladle and start to sing into it as if it was a microphone.

“He got hair down to his knees. He got to be a joker, he just do what he please.” You horribly sing out while slowly moving your hips back and forth while slowly making your way down to your knees in front of Jeff.

You continue your performance while Jeff tries his hardest to not let his mind wander due to the position you were in.

“One thing I can tell you, you just got to be free.” You sing getting up fast while shaking your head back and forth to the beat of the song. As you fully immerse yourself into your performance Jeff laughs at you with loving eyes, but he is interrupted from watching when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

It was a text from Jonah. “You know my feelings towards Y/N the least you can do is not flirt with her around me.”

Suddenly a wave of guilt washes over Jeff. The moment Jeff met you he could feel the spark between you two and just as he was about to tell Jonah how he was feeling about you he beat Jeff to it and started gushing about you the next time Jonah saw Jeff. This resulted in Jeff never opening up to his best friend to let him know he had feelings for you as well.

“What’s wrong?” You furrow your eyebrows while watching Jeff sit down at his dinning table with an upset facial expression.

Jeff quickly sends out an “I’m sorry” text to Jonah before putting his phone away and nervously running his fingers through his hair. “Nothin.”

Furrowing your eyebrows even more you put down the ladle and make your way over to Jeff, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders from behind. “Seriously what’s up?”

“Nothin Y/N.” Jeff says standing up abruptly and gently pushing you off of him, causing your heart to drop.

“Yea okay.” You sassily say back while returning to the stove to cook, the playful mood ruined. There was now an unwanted awkward tension in the air that both you and Jeff felt, but neither of you knew what to say.

Finally Jeff speaks up, not really wanting to say what he was about to, but he felt like he owed it to Jonah to. “Y/N I think you should give Jonah a shot.”

You slowly turn around from the stove to look at Jeff with a confused expression etched onto your face. “What?”

“You guys have so much in common and click well. You guys could be a solid couple.”

Your heart sank initially thinking Jeff didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but the way he was looking everywhere, but you while saying this had you thinking otherwise. “Where is this coming from?” You ask starting to connect the dots and stepping closer to Jeff who doesn’t move away this time.

He remains silent.

“Jeff? Does Jonah have feelings for me?”

Jeff simply nods his head yes as if it was hurting him to say that. He didn’t want you to find out this way. After all, it should be up to Jonah to tell you when he’s ready, but from what Jeff just said he had no choice to tell you.

You let out a sigh. This was not how things were supposed to happen. “I feel bad, but I don’t feel the same for him.” You say inching closer to Jeff. His heartbreaks for Jonah, but he can’t help but selfishly feel hopeful that he may get a chance with you.

“Do you know who I do have feelings for?” You ask placing your hand on Jeff’s chest while a spike of confidence flows through you. Jeff’s breath catches in his throat when you get closer to him, but he instinctively melts into your touch.

“Who Y/N?” He stutters out, nervous that you were going to say Todd or some shit. Jeff wasn’t typically a nervous person, but when it came to you and his strong feelings for you he was.

You roll your eyes at his obliviousness. “You for fuck’s sake. I thought it was obvious.”

A blush and smile washes over Jeff’s face as he looks down at you, but his smile quickly disappears when he remembers Jonah. Seeing his reaction makes you release an annoyed sigh. Although you were oblivious to Jonah’s feelings and sometimes got in your head about Jeff there was no denying he felt the same for you. You just knew he did.

“We can’t do this to Jonah.”

Rolling your eyes you move away from Jeff. The confidence that you had was now annoyance. From the moment you became friends with the two boys you learned that Jonah had a track record of seemingly liking every girl Jeff liked as well. Ultimately causing Jeff to step back so Jonah could have a shot. Yes, Jeff’s being a good friend, but you were sick and tired seeing Jeff’s happiness be put on the line for a guy who wouldn’t do the same for him.

“I know you feel what I feel. I’ve felt it the moment we met two years ago. For the love of everything good stop denying your feelings and finally own up to them for once! You have let Jonah stop you from being happy for so long now. Advocate for yourself Jeff, be selfish for once in your life cause I know you want this as much as I do!”

Jeff looks at you with wide eyes. He was happy that you finally confessed your feelings for him, but he didn’t see this outburst coming even though he knows every word you said was true.

“I can’t Jonah’s my best friend.”

You internally groan, getting even more agitated that Jeff wasn’t seeing what you were seeing. “I understand that, he’s my friend too, but given the opportunity he would push you to the side if that meant he had a shot. I’m not asking you to drop him. I’m asking you to allow yourself to be happy for once.” You say rolling your eyes before turning back to the food cooking on the stove that you seemingly abandoned.

The tension in the air was now thicker than before and Jeff felt awkward in his own apartment. A few minutes go by and he finally speaks up. “Y/N look at me.”

You look over at him with an unimpressed expression, but you notice how close he’s gotten to you. Jeff grabs your hand and starts to gently rub his thumb across the back of it. “You’re right. I do have feelings for you.” He says inching closer to you, causing your heart rate to speed up.

“Then act like it.” You say looking up into his beautiful brown eyes.

Without hesitating Jeff pulls you to his chest by your hand before smashing his lips against yours and caressing your cheek with his free hand. Automatically you kiss back, placing your hand on the nape of his neck while deepening the kiss.

You were the first to pull away, but you rest your forehead against his. “Wow.” That was probably the best kiss you’ve ever had.

Jeff’s cheeks were flushed red and you knew he felt the butterflies from the kiss as well. You two stare into each others eyes seemingly relishing in the moment before guilt begins to wash over Jeff’s face as he realizes what he just did.

“What?” You ask backing away concerned.

He sighs and scratches at his beard. “I want this as much as you do, but I can’t for Jonah’s sake.”

You close your eyes and let out a deep breathe at his words, trying your best to control your emotions. He just said the last thing you wanted to hear. Without saying another word you walk by the brunette and to the front door where you put on your shoes and grab your purse.

“Where are you goin?”

“I’m sorry Jeff, but I can’t be friends with you especially after that kiss. My feelings are just going to keep growing and there’s no point in torturing myself by being around you when I can’t be yours.” You simply state, hurt evident in your voice before opening the door and leaving Jeff’s apartment without another word.

As the door shuts the smoke alarm goes off signaling the food you were cooking was burning, which only made Jeff’s heartbroken mood worse.

“Oh my god Y/N is here! I haven’t seen her in so long!” Zane yells to Jeff over the music before rushing over to you who just arrived to Todd’s birthday party. Ever since that night 8 months ago in Jeff’s apartment you started to distance yourself from Jeff and Jonah along with the Vlog Squad since they were always with either boy. However, you weren’t going to miss Todd’s birthday for the world. After all he was one of your closest friends.

The moment Jeff’s eyes fall onto your frame while you greet the first few people you know his heart rate began to increase. You looked good. Hell even better than you did 8 months ago if that was possible.

You made your rounds through the party, saying hi and having conversations with your friends that you haven’t seen in almost a year while the music filled the large house. Although, it was Todd’s birthday you were hesitant to come. After all you knew Jonah was going to be there and more importantly Jeff as well. But today wasn’t about you it was about Todd. With that being said you decided to swallow your pride and show up for one of your best friends.

However, you tried your best to avoid Jonah and Jeff for the night. Which was working out fine until you ran into Jonah. You guys hugged and caught up and to your surprise Jonah introduces his girlfriend, Francesca to you. Of course you were happy for him, he deserved to be happy, but the two started dating two months after that night at Jeff’s. That meant if you stayed around you and Jeff could’ve been a couple. Yet, you couldn’t help, but to feel hurt. Surely Jeff would’ve jumped on the opportunity to make you his now that Jonah was off the market, but you haven’t heard from the Staten Island stud since a week after what happened. Clearly Jeff’s feelings towards you weren’t as strong as you thought.

As the night continues Jeff builds up enough confidence to approach you. So that’s what he did. Feeling a tap on your shoulder you turn around from your conversation with Todd and are shocked to see Jeff standing in front of you.

“Oh my gosh Jeff! It’s been so long!” You exclaim before pulling the brunette in for a hug, fighting off the awkward tension. This was seemingly a friendly hug, but as you were in his embrace all of the feelings you thought you didn’t feel anymore came rushing back. Jeff felt the same from the moment he saw you walk in. And the familiar but nostalgic smell of your perfume only amplified it.

“How’ve you been?” He asks pulling away, but laughing at your reaction. You didn’t realize how much you missed his laugh until now.

“I’ve been pretty busy with school, but still good. What about you?” Jeff was happy to hear that you were still in school. After months of Jeff convincing you to chase your dreams you finally applied to a university to become a physiotherapist and got in, putting your influencer career on the back burner. He was proud of you for not giving into your fears of having a late start in your degree and quitting.

“I’ve been good as well. The guys and I have been pumping out barbershop episodes basically every week now.” By now Todd was now gone, talking to his other guests.

Although, both of you were telling the truth of what has been up lately neither of you delved into the fact your minds would always wander back to each other. Especially late at night when neither of you could fall asleep.

“How are ya liking school?” Jeff asks stepping a bit closer for you to hear him due to the loud music.Just as you were about to answer his question you feel arms wrap around your waist and a kiss being placed on your cheek.

Justin. Not your boyfriend, but not your friend either.

“Hey baby sorry that I’m late.”

As Jeff watched the guy that looks a bit like him display affection to you a pang of jealously and hurt hits him. Clearly your feelings for him weren’t as strong as Jeff thought they were.

You mumble a “hi” back to Justin and discreetly push him off of you. Suddenly you were all too aware of who you were standing in front of with your rebound by your side.

“Who’s this?” Justin asks pointing at Jeff then looking at you.

“Justin this is Jeff, a friend I haven’t seen in a while.” Another pang of hurt hits Jeff at being friendzoned. “And Jeff this is Justin.”

Jeff swallows the lump in his throat and cuts directly to the chase. “So are you guys a couple?”

You almost choke on your drink at Jeff’s boldness, but Justin answers his question before you could cough out a reply. “Nah, not yet man. Y/N wants to take things slow. Something about not wanting to get her hopes up if things turn sour.” Justin laughs.

Jeff looks at you knowing exactly why you want to take things slow with this guy. You didn’t want to be let down the way you did with Jeff. It was obvious you were still hurt and Jeff’s suspicions of that were proven by your avoidance from his analytical gaze.

An awkward silence falls upon you guys, but Justin doesn’t seem to acknowledge it as he was vibing out to the music. You and Jeff exchange awkward looks while you anxiously bite on the rim of your solo cup.

Just as you were to speak up to bid goodbye to Jeff and get away from the tension Erin comes running up to you. “Y/N it’s our song!” She yells, clearly intoxicated. Before you could protest what was about to happen she drags you over to an open spot in the crowded house to dance to Britney Spears, Toxic. Ultimately leaving Justin and Jeff alone.

As you danced to one of your favourite songs you were grateful that Erin pulled you away because your mind was starting to drift away from Jeff and the way his presence made you feel. The next thing you know the song was over, but you continued to dance with Erin to five other songs while Zane supplied shots for you two.

While each song passed you were oblivious to Jeff’s eyes on you. Justin was talking his ear off about the mixtape he was working on and quite frankly Jeff couldn’t give less of a shit. Every time Justin asked him a question Jeff would simply respond with vague answers, trying his best to suppress his emotions.

Seeing you after all of these months apart it made Jeff realize just how much he missed you. There was no denying he missed you from the moment you walked out of his apartment, but ever since then he tried his best to distract himself with creating. And it was working, but that was until now.

You continued to let loose occasionally glancing over to Jeff’s direction without realizing what you were doing. It wasn’t until you felt arms wrap around your waist that your dance moves come to a stop. You quickly turn around and smile while stumbling into Justin’s arms.

“Hey baby.” You say while wrapping your arms around Justin’s neck while continuing to sway to the music, the alcohol you drank flooding throughout your blood.

“I’m going to get a drink do you want anything?”

You simply nod your head as Mariah walks over to catch up with you and Justin walks away to find the kitchen. Your conversation with Mariah was going great until you felt someone place their hands on the small of your back.

“Excuse me.”

You turn to look and see the person was Jeff walking past you. He makes eye contact with you and you could’ve sworn time stopped in that moment, making you automatically sober up. His eyes were full of longing as well as hurt. Jeff doesn’t stop to talk to you. Instead he keeps on moving through the crowd of people to leave, your eyes yearning after him.

Your focus on the brunette is ultimately broken when Justin hands you a beer. You shake your head and turn back to your conversation with Mariah and introduce Justin to her. As you do this you miss Jeff turning to look back at you one last time, his heart breaking even more as he watches you grasp onto Justin’s arm while laughing loudly.

As he walks out of the party Jeff’s mind wanders to what you two could’ve been ultimately hurting himself more at the thought.

tags: @jeffywittek2020

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeffs barbershop #jeff wittek angst #jeff wittek fluff #jeff wittek smut #vlog squad #jeff fm #jeffrey wittek #todd smith #jeff wittek x reader #fic recs

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ultimatetrashyfanfic · 3 years

Text

I’ve been really into Komahina lately. This started off all lighthearted but then became a bucketload of Komahina hurt/comfort. Just because I think Nagito needs more people to care about him. This is post-hope arc when they are just trying to be normal again. - Circle

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33992074

Warning: descriptions of injuries (nothing serious but requires stitches), blood, some spoilers for SDR2 game and the anime.

Nagito wasn’t surprised when his bad luck struck that day. He’d been having too much of a good time. He’d come to expect this, to feel a wary tension whenever something nice happened because he knew the bad was now right around the corner.

At least this time the luck had affected himself rather than the other Ultimates. The morning had been so happy and relaxed, the perfect conditions for Nagito to let his guard down. He was so grateful to be invited on the beach trip with Hajime, Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi. They’d acted like it was no big deal, like they had no idea of the gravity their invitation held.

“You want to hang out with a nobody like me? The Ultimates are so generous, I don’t deserve such-” Nagito started, but then Hajime put a hand over his mouth, Kazuichi stuck his fingers in his ears and Fuyuhiko told him to shut the fuck up - but all three did this fondly.

It was easy to grow accustomed to the beach when living on a tropical island, but it seemed especially beautiful that day. Blue sea and white sand shimmered with a special sort of exotic glamour - though perhaps that was down to the three other men laughing along and acting like he was equal to them. It was absurd, really, that these Ultimates should give him any attention. He was about to voice this very thought, but then Hajime took Nagito’s hand without hesitation - without a hint of shame - and the words died away. A strange warm feeling bloomed in his chest, heavy and unfamiliar.

Hajime must’ve sensed he was getting overwhelmed, because he led Nagito back up the beach while Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko went swimming. Or at least Fuyuhiko went swimming; Kazuichi paddled and ran for the shore whenever a strand of seaweed brushed against his leg. Hajime spread their towels out in the shade of a palm tree, lying flat and gesturing for Nagito to do the same. “Come on, get in the shade. I know how easily your skin burns.”

“Don’t you want to swim too, Hajime?” Nagito asked, flopping down. He let his head fall back onto Hajime’s stomach, making his grunt softly.

“No, it’s okay. I could tell you needed some peace and quiet.”

Nagito frowned. Hajime was doing that much more often, seeing through his smiles and cheerful comments to the truth inside. Nagito knew he should be happy, grateful even. Hajime wanted to know him better. Hajime wanted to understand him. So why did it make Nagito feel so raw and vulnerable, like Hajime was scrubbing away a layer of his skin?

“You shouldn’t have to miss time with your friends for someone like me,” Nagito said. “You were nice enough to bring me along. That’s more than enough.”

“What, do you think I’m going to chain you to a tree like a dog while we have fun? I’m not missing out on time with anybody. I’m spending time with you, Nagito. Because I want to. I like to. Right?” Hajime said, his voice exasperated. But then Nagito felt a hand in his hair, clumsy yet gentle, and he knew Hajime wasn’t really upset with him.

Nagito felt the weird feeling come back, itching insistently. He forced himself to give a lighthearted laugh. “You’re so inspiring, Hajime. You have hope for everyone, even miserable wretches like me.”

“Nagito.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Nagito did as he was told. Hajime started idly fiddling with Nagito’s hair, taking hold of one wild curl and pulling it straight, then letting it bounce back. Nagito wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, nervous giggles tickling the back of his throat. This wasn’t them. They weren’t tender and gentle and soft. They weren’t sweet words and walks on the beach and fingers running through hair. Their relationship was messy. They were angry outbursts and nightmares and holding onto each other too tightly, too long.

Nagito remained tense for a long time, but Hajime didn’t speak again. His hand continued moving through Nagito’s mop of hair until - finally - he felt the man sigh and release the tension in his shoulders. With the warm sun on his face and his head bobbing slowly up and down to the rhythm of Hajime’s breaths, Nagito felt his eyelids droop. And the nightmares didn’t come this time.

Hajime must’ve slept too, because they were both woken by a splash of icy water over their faces. Hajime yelped and sat upright so hastily Nagito tumbled off him onto the sand, spluttering in shock, wet hair plastered to his face.

Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi loomed over them with empty buckets, grinning impishly. Hajime lifted his sopping fringe with one hand to glare at them, and they both burst out laughing.

“You two were sleeping the day away! We didn’t want you getting dehydrated.”

“It was Kazuichi’s idea,” Fuyuhiko said.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Hajime growled.

“It wasn’t! Fuyuhiko started it,” Kazuichi said, but he was giggling like an idiot and it was clear he was lying.

Hajime stumbled to his feet, hauled Nagito up and snatched Kazuichi’s bucket from his hands. “Right, come on, Nagito. Payback.”

Hajime started running to the shoreline, dragging Nagito along. Fuyuhiko made for the sea too, and Kazuichi, who was now without a bucket, ran to the right of the beach, clambering over the slick rocks by the cliffs to hide.

“I’ll go after him,” Nagito told Hajime. “I know there’s only two buckets but I could… throw seaweed at him, I suppose. He seemed afraid of it in the water.”

Hajime snorted. “Yes, do that! That’s hilarious. I’ll get Fuyuhiko.”

“No you fucking won’t!” Fuyuhiko yelled.

So Nagito ran down to the side of the beach too. The damp black rocks appeared every low tide as the sea retreated, leaving behind a selection of tiny pools filled with small fish and anemones and little crabs. The rocks were covered with seaweed and very slippery, and Nagito was barefoot. He should’ve known better - he was used to watching out for potential hazards - but Nagito knew Gundham and Sonia had been down there on several occasions to study the wildlife in the rock pools, and neither of them had been sensibly dressed. Sonia was even in heels, for God’s sake. Surely the rocks couldn’t be that treacherous.

He wasn’t thinking properly. It was just nice to finally be able to act silly and do stupid stuff with people who seemed to want him around, even if they were just being kind. Nagito had never been in a water fight in his life. He was kidding himself he was normal.

So he clambered over the slime-covered rocks with reckless abandon, barely pausing to breathe. He had his eyes on Kazuichi in the distance, and he didn’t notice the small rock pool until he was slipping into it, his right foot sliding over sharp rock and rough barnacles. The pain and the shock of the icy water screamed all the way up his leg and his knees gave way, sending him falling onto his behind in the pool with a splash. He sat still for several seconds, the sole of his foot screaming.

Kazuichi had originally started laughing when he saw Nagito fall, but his expression clouded when Nagito didn’t join in. Usually Nagito smiled after his clumsy moments and said something about his bad luck being a stepping stone for hope later or some similar bullshit. But this time Nagito didn’t smile. He didn’t attempt to get up. He just sat there, face blank.

“Hey,” Kazuichi called, slowly creeping over. He still wasn’t quite sure if this was a trick. He didn’t want to get a face full of seawater. “You alright?”

Nagito didn’t react. He didn’t even blink. Kazuichi moved closer, coming right up to the rock pool and bracing himself. Nagito didn’t try to splash him. He just sat, blank-faced, twirling one finger idly in the water and making pinkish swirls with the… sand? Silt? Kazuichi couldn’t tell what it was floating in the rock pool, but it didn’t look sanitary.

“You should probably get up. That looks pretty dirty,” Kazuichi advised. “And you’re getting your pants wet. What’re you doing anyway? You’re not gonna go weird on me, are you?”

“I… think I may require Mikan, when it’s most suitable for her. I wouldn’t want to bother an Ultimate with my petty issues,” Nagito said calmly.

“What? Why?” Kazuichi said, alarmed. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

As if in answer, Nagito lifted his right leg out of the water. Kazuichi’s eyes went wide when he spotted the huge gash on the sole of Nagito’s foot, gushing blood at a terrifying pace. He looked again at the murky pinkish water and suddenly understood.

“Oh my fucking God! Fuck, shit, what do we do?” Kazuichi cried in a panic. “Don’t just sit there playing around in your blood, you weirdo! Shit, HAJIME!” Kazuichi yelled back down the beach, waving his arms at the two men in the distance like he’d been shipwrecked.

They approached warily, not taking the situation seriously. “This better not be a trick, Kazuichi!”

“I’m not playing the game anymore! Komaeda is bleeding to death over here!”

“What?” Hajime cried, picking up the pace.

“Bleeding to death is rather an exaggeration,” Nagito said. “You’d need to lose thirty to forty percent of the blood in your body to even fall unconscious.”

“I’m not going to ask how the hell you know that,” Kazuichi mumbled.

Hajime and Fuyuhiko climbed over the rocks, staring in horror at the big cut on Nagito’s foot and the rock pool growing cloudy with blood.

“What did you do?!” Fuyuhiko cried. Nagito opened his mouth, but Fuyuhiko was looking at Kazuichi.

“I didn’t do anything!” Kazuichi cried, looking wounded. “I think he slipped or something. I found him just sitting there.”

“It was nobody’s fault but my own,” Nagito said, his voice the calmest among them despite the fact that he was the one gushing blood. “I was tempting my bad luck. I should be thankful I’m not worse off.”

“What’s he on about?” Kazuichi asked Hajime.

“His luck cycle thing.”

“So something bad is gonna happen every time we’re nice to him?” Kazuichi said. “That sucks. Should we like… shove him over first before we invite him somewhere? Will that cancel it out?”

“Kazuichi, stop fucking talking,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

“I didn’t mean a hard shove or anything…”

“Shut up.”

“We need to get him to Mikan,” Hajime said firmly, hooking his hands under Nagito’s arms and carefully hauling him out of the rock pool. “Ugh, you’re all soggy.”

“Yes, that tends to happen when you fall into water, Hajime,” Nagito said, smiling. Not quite a nice and happy smile though.

“You should probably carry him,” Fuyuhiko said. “Otherwise he’ll get sand in the cut. And he can’t hop all the way back. You should keep his leg elevated above his head to reduce the blood flow.”

“How am I meant to do that?” Hajime snapped. “Dangle him upside down from his ankles?”

“I was only trying to help, asshole.”

“You’d all be terrible first responders. We’ve made no progress whatsoever,” Nagito said. Hajime and Fuyuhiko told him to shut up in unison.

Kazuichi was grimacing at the growing pool of blood under Nagito’s foot. “He has a point. He’s bleeding a lot, guys. We should probably do something.”

“He’s on a ton of medication. Lots of them have blood clotting as a side effect, so he has to take blood thinners. That’s why it’s… bad,” Hajime explained. He sighed, scooping Nagito up into his arms, cradling him like a bride.

It was still far too easy to hold him like this; Nagito’s eating habits were pretty disordered. On bad days he wouldn’t eat at all. Hajime had thought it was sheer obstinacy, but when he’d forced Nagito to have lunch it had come back up again so quickly Nagito hadn’t even reached the bathroom in time. They were in Hajime’s cabin too, which made it worse. That was one of the few times Nagito grew visibly angry with him. He was usually so careful to keep a smooth, happy mask, smiling and chuckling when he was nervous or upset or scared. Hajime never pressured him to eat when he said he couldn’t again.

“Is this okay?” Hajime asked, trying to shift his arms to lift Nagito’s injured foot as high as possible.

“Are you going to carry me over the threshold, Hajime?” Nagito said, smiling.

Hajime could feel his cheeks growing warm. Wow, that was not good. He didn’t want to react physically whenever Nagito teased him, or he’d just tease much more. “I’ll drop you in the ocean if you’re not careful.”

“Who says chivalry is dead,” Fuyuhiko muttered dryly. “Now hurry up, we need to get help. Take Nagito back to your cabin, Hajime. Me and Kazuichi will go hunt down Mikan.”

Kazuichi usually moaned if anyone tried to make him dash around in the hot island sun, but he just nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her. Try not to bleed to death, okay Nagito?”

“I’ll do my best.”

They ran off together, and Hajime carried Nagito across the sand towards the cabins. Nagito had his arms wound around Hajime’s neck, his face peering over his shoulder. “We’re leaving a trail of blood. Like that old fairy story.”

“What?”

“Some children leave a trail so they don’t get lost in the woods. I remember that part, but I can’t think of the title. It was so long ago…”

“Oh, you mean Hansel and Gretel. And they left a trail of breadcrumbs, you weirdo, not blood.”

“And there was a woman in that story who was a cannibal…”

“She was a witch. She was keeping the kids to cook and eat them.” Hajime was starting to think properly about some of the fairy tails they’d all grown up with. They were actually pretty dark when you thought about it. Trust Nagito to bring that to his attention.

“Never mind that. How’re you feeling? You’re bleeding an awful lot. And it must hurt.”

“You don’t need to worry about a nobody li-”

“Nagito, if you don’t give me a real answer I really am going to drop you.”

“No you’re not.” Nagito spoke with such calm confidence that Hajime had to clench his teeth to hold back a snarky retort. Okay, maybe Nagito was correct. Hajime wouldn’t just dump his injured boyfriend on his ass in the sand. But that didn’t make his tone any less annoying.

“Ah, you’re pulling a scary face, Hajime! Are you growing tired of me yet?” Nagito asked, starting to laugh.

Hajime sighed. He’d been hearing that line a lot from Nagito, as long as they’d been dating and well back into their friendship too. Are you tired of me yet? Whenever it was Nagito’s turn to wake gasping from a nightmare, whenever he grew so ill and weak he could barely move and Hajime had to walk him to the bathroom, whenever the phantom pains from a hand no longer there kept them both up at night, he’d start. Ah, I’m such a burden. Why are you here, Hajime? Why do you care about a nobody like me? Aren’t you tired of this? Aren’t you tired of me?

He always kept his voice light and easy, but Hajime sensed there was must be some sort of truth behind the questions. Nobody repeated something over and over like a parrot unless the same thoughts were swirling non-stop in their own heads. Hajime knew Nagito had been alone most of his childhood, forced to take care of his own problems. Now he seemed to baulk at the idea of help or support of any kind, like Hajime was going to play a cruel joke on him and shove him away at the last second.

“I’m growing tired of you saying that,” Hajime said. “Come on, let’s just get inside. And no more woe-is-me speeches, right? I keep telling you, I want to help.”

“You’re so kind, Hajime.”

“I’m not kind. I’m not doing it because I’m kind,” Hajime said irritably. “I’m doing it because I want to. Because I care about you. Okay?”

Nagito didn’t respond, just smiling calmly. Hajime wished he could peer right behind those eyes and see what really went on in Nagito’s head. He sighed and sat on his bed to wait for Mikan. As he was still holding Nagito, he ended up perched on Hajime’s lap, but he didn’t attempt to move. Hajime felt the tight frustration in his chest ease and he carefully wound his arms around Nagito’s skinny waist. Too skinny. Fuck, they needed to find something Nagito could eat even when he felt ill.

“I’m dripping blood on your carpet,” Nagito whispered, his head still resting on Hajime’s shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter right now.” He peered over the side of the bed. “You’re still bleeding a lot. Are you feeling okay? You’ve gone pretty pale.”

“Just a little light-headed, Hajime. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I’m worrying about you. Stop testing me, Nagito. I care. I’m not leaving, I’m not annoyed, I’m not sick of you. Please stop it,” Hajime begged.

Nagito went silent again. There was a strange expression on his face, brows furrowed, almost irritated - but before Hajime could question him there was a knock at his cabin door and Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi burst in. They were dragging Mikan between them, one on either side of her like bodyguards.

“We found her!” Kazuichi cried. “Is Komaeda okay? Because we don’t have spare blood if he needs a transfusion or something.”

“Who the fuck has spare blood?” Fuyuhiko snapped. “He’ll be fine. I’ve seen guys bleed way more than that and still live.”

“Well, the peace and quiet in here was nice while it lasted,” Hajime muttered. He smiled at Mikan apologetically. “Sorry for dragging you over here at such short notice, but I think he needs stitches.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble. I would never tear an Ultimate away from their work with my petty desires and-” Nagito’s string of self-deprecation was swiftly cut off as Hajime’s clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t listen to him. Please, can you help him?”

“Of course,” Mikan said. Her smile was nervous, but Hajime didn’t think it was anything they’d done - Mikan always seemed nervous. She’d had the forethought to bring a case of supplies when Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi dragged her across the island, so she knelt on the blood-spattered carpet and took hold of Nagito’s ankle.

“Y-yes, it’s quite a deep gash, but it’s not very serious. You’ll need stitches and you won’t be able to get them wet or put weight on your right foot for at least a week,” she explained, snapping on rubber gloves.

“Looks like Hajime will be doing a lot more carrying then,” Fuyuhiko said.

“Does Peko carry you when you get hurt?” Kazuichi teased, then yelped as Fuyuhiko thumped him hard.

“I’m going to clean the wound. I want you to take a deep breath, Nagito. This will be painful,” Mikan said. Her usually shaky voice seemed much firmer and more assured when she was talking about her medicine. Her clumsy hands grew confident and graceful as she worked, carefully cleaning, stitching and bandaging the wound while gently reminding Nagito when to breathe and warning him when something was going to be painful. She put so much effort into making him as comfortable as possible - an Ultimate trying to help a nobody like him! Nagito wanted to show Mikan how thankful he was, how wonderfully selfless it was to treat him like a worthy patient, like an equal - but his throat ached so badly he could only choke out a “thank you” in an almost inaudible voice.

And it wasn’t just Mikan; Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko stayed too. They peered over Mikan’s shoulder while she worked, having to be reminded several times to back off. Kazuichi pulled faces whenever the wound was revealed and Fuyuhiko teased Nagito for managing to slice his foot so badly in a fall most people could’ve laughed off uninjured, but it was clear they cared too. They did their best to offer help.

“I’ll bring dinner for both of you tonight,” Fuyuhiko said. “Probably best if Nagito rests in the quiet. He might be feeling shitty from the shock.”

“I’ll make you some crutches, Nagito,” Kazuichi promised. “Crutches that work on the sand too so you can still go to the beach with us.”

They were being so nice… and all Nagito wanted to do was shove them out the door. The tightness in his chest was growing worse and worse, like somebody was slowly tightening a belt over his ribs. He was dangerously close to shattering, and that was something he couldn’t do now. He needed them out. They cared too much. He hardly dared blink or speak in case it all came bursting out.

Nagito moved closer to Hajime as Mikan fixed the bandages on his foot, his lips so close they brushed Hajime’s ear. “Make them leave. Please.”

He couldn’t say any more. He wanted to explain, wanted to make Hajime realise how urgent this was, how close he was to being vulnerable around three people he was not ready to open up to in this way. Hell, it was still hard even to show Hajime, the man he literally shared a bed with.

Nagito’s eyes were burning. He felt a surge of panic. Oh God, Hajime, please get them out of here…

Perhaps Hajime heard the strain in Nagito’s whisper, perhaps he felt how tense his body had grown against him, but - miraculously - he seemed to understand. He carefully eased Nagito onto the bed, thanked their friends for their help and reassured everyone Nagito would be okay now, he just needed some rest and some peace. Nagito stopped listened. He was barely blinking. He managed to smile and nod until Hajime had ushered Mikan, Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko to the door, then Nagito rolled over and hastily buried his face in a pillow.

Hajime finally convinced his friends they’d both be fine and closed the door with a sigh of relief. He turned back to the bed, not too surprised to see Nagito lying on his stomach with his face hidden.

Nagito was all mixed up when it came to emotions; bad situations had him laughing and smiling, positive reinforcement had driven him to tears several times now. With Hajime. Nagito refused to cry in public. Sometimes it could be really inconvenient too. Since they’d all woken up and decided to try to undo all the terrible things in their past, everyone was trying to be nicer. And trying to be nicer to Nagito if he was feeling particularly weak or tired or ill that day was fatal. He’d start tugging on Hajime’s hand, gently at first, but the tugging would grow more frantic as he struggled to retain control. Sometimes Hajime had to interrupt people mid-conversation with some silly excuse to save Nagito’s pride. Once he’d run out of ideas and made out to Akane that he had a sudden and urgent need to use the toilet. That had actually made Nagito laugh when he’d calmed down.

It wasn’t ideal, but Hajime couldn’t help being thankful that Nagito trusted him more than anyone else. Trusted Hajime to whisk him away when he needed help, and trusted Hajime to hold him while he wept silently, face hidden in his jacket or covered with his hands - even Hajime didn’t get to see his face when Nagito was in that state.

So Hajime didn’t comment when he saw Nagito soundlessly weeping into his pillow (hopefully Nagito’s pillow anyway. Hajime didn’t want tears and snot on his own pillow). He didn’t ask what was wrong. He simply walked to the foot of the bed and took hold of Nagito’s ankle, examining Mikan’s handiwork. The white bandages were almost the same colour as Nagito’s skin, and his exposed toes were icy cold.

“You should put some socks on,” Hajime noted.

Nagito, predictably, didn’t move, so Hajime grabbed a pair from the dresser. “Are you going to cooperate?”

Nothing. Hajime sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing hold of Nagito’s leg. “Honestly, I bet even Sonia never had anybody to put her socks on for her and she’s royalty. Come on, bend your leg. Help me out a bit.” Despite his grumbling, Hajime eased the socks on with scrupulous care, being especially delicate with the injured foot. “There, your majesty. Surely that must feel better.”

Nagito still didn’t make a sound. Hajime moved to stretch out beside him on the bed, a hand resting between his shoulders. “Hey,” Hajime mumbled. “It’s alright. I know it’s hard, but they care about you. It’s not a bad thing.”

“They shouldn’t care. I did terrible things,” Nagito said, his voice so muffled by the pillow it was hard to understand him.

“So did I. So did everybody here. We’re all trying to make up for that.”

“I don’t deserve love.”

“That’s what you tell yourself. It’s not the truth.” Hajime very gently eased Nagito off the pillow into his arms. Nagito immediately hid his face in Hajime’s chest, but he didn’t pull away. He clamped a hand hard over his mouth to keep the sobs inside.

“Don’t,” Hajime said firmly, taking hold of Nagito’s hand and trying to pry the fingers away from his lips. “Stop holding it all in. I think that’s partly why you keep getting overwhelmed so often. You never let go.”

Nagito didn’t give up, wrenching his hand free and slapping it right back across his lips - but not before a single gasping sob had escaped. It was the first time Hajime had ever heard him make a noise while he cried. Nagito screwed up his face immediately, wincing.

“No, that’s good! Fucking fantastic! Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I’m cheering you on for crying, but here we are,” Hajime muttered. He took hold of Nagito’s hand once again and tried to prise it away. “Come on, we’re on the right track. It’s just us here. Our door is locked, nobody expects us at dinner. You’re safe, okay? You’re not a burden. I don’t think any less of you. Please…”

Hajime yanked Nagito’s hand away, keeping hold of the wrist this time. Immediately a loud sob burst out, another chasing on its heels so quickly Nagito barely had time to draw breath. And the floodgates opened. He gasped and wheezed and sobbed, soaking Hajime’s chest with tears and spit and snot, clinging so tightly to Hajime’s arms that his nails left little crescent moon shapes in the skin. And Hajime never complained. He held Nagito tight, whispering encouragement into his hair, warm hands rubbing between Nagito’s shoulder blades - holding him together, anchoring him against the darkness that swirled inside Nagito’s head.

Nagito wasn’t sure how long he spent sobbing desperately into his boyfriend’s chest; it felt like hours. He cried until his head throbbed and his throat ached. He cried for his friends, struggling themselves to shake their pasts as Remnants of Despair. He cried for all the people they hurt and tortured under Junko’s brainwashing. He cried for the parents he could only remember from photographs. He cried for the childhood dog who’d died in his arms. He cried for himself, for his lifetime of loneliness, his bad luck driving people away out of fear. And he cried for Chiaki.

All the while, Hajime held him. Hajime let Nagito drip all over him for an eternity, and when the sobs finally, finally started to fade away, Hajime brought him a bottle of water and held a cold cloth to his puffy eyes, wrapping an arm around him and pulling Nagito against his shoulder. “I learned this from Mahiru. She does this for Hiyoko when she’s been crying. It’s meant to stop your eyes getting all red and sore.”

Nagito nodded, far too emotionally exhausted to speak. He sat helplessly while Hajime fussed over him with tender but clumsy hands, dabbing his face with tissues and smoothing his messy hair off his forehead. Nagito stared blankly ahead - and then felt two warm hands grip his cheeks. He was forced to stare into Hajime’s heterochromic eyes.

“Hey…” Hajime’s soft tone was a complete contrast to his firm stare. “I’m so proud of you, Nagito.”

It almost brought the tears back. Proud of him? For what? For having a tantrum like a baby?

Hajime recognised his expression. “I’m proud of you for feeling. I’m not good at this mushy stuff and I know you’re not either… but it’s just so good to finally see you letting yourself hurt openly like that. I’m really fucking proud of you.”

Nagito’s chest hurt again. He pulled Hajime’s hands away from his cheeks and held them, squeezing as hard as he could manage. It took several tries before he managed to speak, tasting salty tears on his dry lips. “Next time you feel bad,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse, “I’ll put your socks on for you too.”

Hajime laughed - and Nagito finally found himself smiling again, though his face was still blotchy and tearstained. They’d be okay. They had each other to put their socks on when they were having bad days.

#danganronpa #danganronpa sdr2 #danganronpa 2 #post-SDR2 #komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #kazuichi soda #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #hurt/comfort #injury #mod circle #post-hope arc #spoilers warning

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pumpkinpaix · 4 years

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this is gonna sound so harsh but im legit tired of chinese diaspora people who think that bc they are of chinese descent and they have pleco they can act like voices of authority in the fandom. if modao is the 1st chinese book you have read pieces of with a dictionary, if you have never interacted with the actual chinese fandom, you are not part of the intended audience and your biased opinion is not the One And Only Valid Truth 🍵

genuinely cannot tell if you’re trying to shade me here anon lmao 😂

this got long and rambly (of course) asldkjfslj. i would love to make the excuse that it’s bc i’ve got a migraine and had No Sleep but. let’s be real i’m always like this.

ok i’ll start with where i agree: i don’t think anyone has the right to act like an ultimate voice of authority in fandom. i think different people with different backgrounds have varying realms of expertise and they should be respected when they share that knowledge, but that the instant someone starts to use that kind of power as a weapon against people they personally don’t like, i think they forfeit that privilege. no one has the one and only valid truth about a piece of media because that’s fundamentally impossible. i have definitely interacted with diaspo who behave like their heritage gives them some kind of incontrovertible authority over everyone else, and they’re fucking insufferable and often rather cruel, even/especially towards other diaspo. meet me in the denny’s parking lot and fight me for real. i’ll kick ur ass. >:c

however, I also think it’s true that there’s a lot of dismissal of heritage fans in this fandom, if that makes sense, from both sides of the equation: non-Chinese fans ignore our cultural hangups because they’re inconvenient, and non-diaspora disdain us for being not Chinese enough. that puts a lot of us in a position of feeling disrespected just for being who we are, or having our very real knowledge and unique experience as individuals devalued because of it.

regardless of my identity, I have formally studied a lot of things: literary translation, media analysis, the politics of oppression, film critique, religious studies, philosophy, four foreign languages etc. and that is all knowledge that I had to work for, and work hard for. I do have a certain measure of authority on all of these subjects over a layperson (to varying degrees), and there are going to be times when i will be more correct than someone who disagrees with me -- but I’ve also absolutely experienced people talking over that specialized knowledge because of who I am, which is, to be clear. extremely infuriating and hurtful. like, i have cried so much about it in the last 18 months. people see my racial and cultural identity before they see anything else, which is understandable to a degree, but upsetting when it becomes the basis for how my work is judged, whether positive or negative. i don’t want you to trust me blindly because i’m abc. I want to you to trust me because you have examined my work critically and judged it to be trustworthy!

so i guess this is getting into the strongly disagree part of the answer: i’ve been speaking a lot with other diaspora fans lately, and it’s been simultaneously hugely relieving and also really saddening. relieving because oh thank god someone else Gets It, and saddening because pretty much all of us, no matter what kind of diaspo we are (north american, european, SEA, taiwanese etc), we’ve all experienced a lot of pressure in this fandom, from non-Chinese, Chinese, and other diaspora fans alike. we’re all acutely aware that we are not modao’s intended audience because being diaspora vs being “from the mainland” or whatever, are actually quite different things, but modao still feels close to home. even if it was not written FOR us it is still familiar to us.

and, because so many of us are multilingual and multicultural, we end up being the bridge between the “actual” chinese fandom and the english-speaking fandom, which is largely made up of non-chinese. (sidenote: I hate it when people say things about being “actually” any identity because it’s almost always for the exact reason you brought up: to use heritage as street cred. it’s like damn, being “actually” chinese doesn’t make ur opinions any less rank. sure you might be “actually” chinese, but do you have basic reading comprehension and literary criticism skills? no? ok then sit your ass back down) many of us are most comfortable in english! so we produce our content in english! but we also DO often have a somewhat privileged access to the culture that underlies mdzs and can explain it in a language that other non-Chinese fans can understand. so it’s not surprising that people flock to us for answers to their cultural questions. and like. if we think we know the answer, it’s natural for us to try and help. this is fandom! we’re here to have fun and find community! and it is definitely a little bit nice to have my culture treated as something desirable for once instead of just like. a weird exotic curiosity that no one really cares too deeply about. and, since a lot of us are able to do things that non-Chinese fans can’t (research in chinese, for example. ask family members for help and more information etc.) we end up just having more information to share.

I think this sometimes results in a tendency for fandom at large to put heritage/diaspo fans on pedestals and tout them as authorities (or use our conflicting viewpoints as ammunition in fandom drama) when the diaspo in question have repeatedly stated that they should not be taken as authorities on something -- and then, once you reach critical mass, your reputation starts to precede you, and I think there’s a lot of misconceptions of how a lot of diaspo act in this fandom simply because of that phenomenon. most of us know that we’re not ultimate arbiters of some kind of cultural gateway, and it can be very tiring both to be treated as such when we insist we are not, and then punished by other people who assume that we acted like we were.

i don’t think there’s a benefit in trying to keep en fandom and cn fandom totally separate, and I also think it’s unfair to consider the cn fandom the “real” fandom. i think that way lies deeper misunderstandings, gatekeeping, etc. i think we can definitely acknowledge the differences between them, but i think trying to make meaningful connections between fandom circles is really valuable! i don’t think i’ve ever made it a secret that modao is my first cmedia fandom? so it’s also the first time i’ve had reason to interact with chinese fandom, which has been super enlightening and interesting! i’ve made some super cool friends and learned a lot about how fandom works in china, how it’s similar and how it differs from the fandom i’m familiar with.

and then, kind of circling back around, there’s also a bit of a sense like, okay, so if diaspo don’t belong in the CN fandom, but we can’t talk about our own culture with some degree of confidence in EN fandom, then like..... where do we go...? if we see EN fandom doing something that contradicts our cultural knowledge, do we just. not say anything? do we not count unless we’ve already ingratiated ourselves to CN fandom? that’s probably where the core of my strong disagreement comes from, because criticism of diaspora fans as like, acting above their station so to speak, feels just like a tired continuation of the same shit we’ve had to deal with for our whole lives, being told we’re not good enough for anywhere and that we should just be quiet and keep our heads down and get over it. that our opinions, despite coming from a unique perspective with a unique relationship to the subject in question, are less valid or real than “actual” chinese people, you know? and sometimes i see that and im like lmfao just sneer at me for being jook-sing and leave then if you’re so eager to think of me as lesser.

so yeah, basically im of a few minds: true! diaspora fans don’t get to throw their weight around just because they’re diaspo. they don’t get carte blanche to act like bullies or try to shape the fandom to their own personal liking and crusade against people who disagree with them. they don’t get to pretend their heritage makes them superior to everyone else, and i think western diaspora especially need to be careful when asserting any kind of moral lens over the text to acknowledge that we have our own biases to interrogate. i am not immune.meme etc. on the other hand, this vein of criticism tends to put all diaspo in a bit of a double-bind, and also, however unintentionally, plays into the general, continuous trend of dismissing diaspora for being diaspora, and i’m really not about that. i don’t think that’s the motivation behind opinions like this, but i do think that when the basis for the argument hinges on the idea that diaspora are not “real” chinese, no matter how much I too have beef with certain diaspora fans, the argument needs to be revisited.

(ko-fi)

🍵 ((un)popular) opinions meme

#Anonymous #asks and replies #cyan gets too deep in the weeds #race #chinese diaspora #statistically average #mine #mymeta #mdzs #ummmmm #politics #??#opinions meme #ask meme

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redxblueihateloveyou · 3 years

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Am I the only one who doesn’t get why some (tw) are shitting on Haru and Rin separately just for the fact that they reciprocate each others feelings? Because it’s not the feelings they wanted them to reciprocate? Just curious because I'm new and recently entered the fandom. And since when miscommunication in between means that they don't deserve to be happy at the end? Because you're an idiot when it comes to love, doesn't mean you're a bad person. I came from chinese bl and it's weird to me.

Hehe welcome to the madness, perfect time to join! Yeah, tbh that's the thing in the fandom that always bugged me the most. The fact that some act like if you don't reciprocate someone's feelings, it makes you a bad person. I always found it incredibly cringy when ppl in real life for example make ppl feel guilty for not feeling the same way and make you feel like shit bc of it. I don't get why you have to apologize for that or feel bad, if you never ever gave him any hope or anything in the first place.

Nowdays it's thankfully a rare sight already in this fandom, bc most already grown and see perfectly what's truly healthy and unhealthy, it's just tbh only the same 3 accounts ppl keep sending me that are still on that, who also think that Haru is literally possessed in the last movie so I don't see the point of like arguing with ppl like this. It's just they're always getting extremely angry when Haru wants Rin as if it's his fault that he feels this way and always go about it like he is inconsiderate of Makoto's feelings. Implying that they're mad that he doesn't feel that way about Makoto, while Makoto does. I'm same as @tododeku-or-bust for example said here (idk what fandom brought this on, but just in general) also do not get what's appealing about this kind of relationships in the first place.

If they shipped it in terms of like it's mutual I'd get it, but they go on about how Rin or Haru are bad friends bc they're not in love with their best friends... like ?????? I didn't know you owe it to your friends to have romantic feelings for them.

In real life if you found out that your bestie feels that way for you while you don't reciprocate, it's a burden, that'll make you feel uncomfortable and at times guilty when you shouldn't technically feel that way. So putting on someone a burden of "I was pining for you all along", when you know they don't feel the same is giving me this feeling of cringe. So I personally do not get what's enjoyable at seeing it like that in Free. But to each their own kink lmao.

It's like... is Haru at fault for the fact that he was Ikuya's first love too? I do not get it really. Like he doesn't have to take responsibility for everyone who falls for him and he doesn't owe anyone to reciprocate their feelings. Even to Rin. Like if he didn't feel the same way for Rin, it wouldn't be his fault either. But since he does feel the same way for him, it's like... good, great, happy for them.

Like once again if someone believes that Makoto and Sousuke are unrequitedly in love with Rin and Haru, that's not rinharu fault. Haru literally never ever lead Makoto on EVER. He never ever did anything that would make Makoto believe that they're more than friends. He was always honest about everything. Like when Makoto thought that he went out to see him, but Haru just wanted to see the sunrise, he told him just that. He never encoraged anything, he refused to live with him and never wanted. I do not get why it's supposed to be his fault that he doesn't like his friend in that way. If Makoto has some unrequited feelings for him and decided to hang up on this, it's his own life choice in my opinion.

It's like saying that Onodera and Takano for example don't deserve to be together just because they unintentionally hurt each other and got separated for 10 years bc of misunderstanding. This argument is like typical Yokozawa life position aka "but I was there when he left you heartbroken for several years, that means you MUST pick me". As I've said before, that's just not how it fucking works. And just bc they couldn't explain things to each other normally, doesn't mean that they don't deserve be happy now. Being idiots is not a crime.

Or if you came from chinese bl, lets go "Guardian" for example. Zhu Hong also was on about how "why you love Shen Wei, not me, I always did everything for you and I was always there, I even wore heels bc you once said you liked those etc". Like he never asked her to do this, he never gave her any hope, he was beyond rude and open about the fact that he's not interested, he never did anything to make her think she had a chance since the beginning. Just bc she decided to dedicate her life to false hope that maybe one day something might change is not his fault. It was her choice. Why Yunlan should feel like shit bc of that I do not get personally.

I'm just buffled bc like Haru for example is the most caring about other ppl's pain person, but they call him selfish and rude bc of the way he is with Makoto at times, not even realising that it IS in fact what means being kind sometimes.. to not give someone a chance when you know you don't feel it. I was always saying this like since forever, being kind doesn't mean for example giving everyone second chances, loving everyone, wanting to be friends with anyone etc. In some situations it's not being kind, it's being stupid or even not being a good person. Once again... offering someone friendship after he openly dissed your friend and you see that he's not in any position to talk back is not kind. Or if someone cheats on you constantly, but you always forgive them it's also not you being kind. It's you being stupid. Sometimes you have to be harsh. It's for the greater good.

And like I saw several times stuff like someone under scenes where Rin has his eyes for Haru only, commenting like "oh great, look at Rin being inconsiderate of Sousuke's feelings again. Can't believe you guys find this romantic." I mean, if in their opinion Sousuke is in pain from being Rin's friend, he can end it, it's his choice. It's not Rin's fault that he thinks of him as just his friend. So thinking that Rin is an asshole bc each time he simply hangs out with Sousuke he's a selfish bitch is fucking insane. I'd feel extremely bad if my best friend was seeing it this way for example. It's like hella ugly.

This annoys me also bc of the fact that Rin, the person who at the age of 12 single-handedly saved his family from falling apart after his father's death, who's an amazing friend to Sousuke and did everything to make his happy after he found out about his trauma and always checks on him first and cries about his shoulder, who in the late evenings taught Rei to swim, when everyone else gave up already xD, who was looking after Nitori during his training, who pretends to walk the same road, just because he's scared to let Gou return alone in the evenings, the most amazing son and brother, is suddenly an asshole just because Haru is in love with him, but not with Makoto. I mean, thats just... huh? Like I dont mind you ship what you want to ship, it's like to each their own crayons for real. But like dissing them and call them selfish just bc they only see their friends as friends and don't want anything more is weird to me.

As for the fact that bc of the misunderstanding they don't deserve to be happy, that's just idiotic. I mean, lets punish Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan too just bc Lan Zhan couldn't voice his real feelings back then and bc WWX misunderstood him. Lets ship WWX with Wen Ning instead. Nezumi is cancelled, he doesn't deserve to be with Shion. He left him. Takano should stay with Yokozawa, Onodera is trash. Wu Xie is trash for wanting to be with Zhang Qiling too. It doesn't matter why he leaves, it only matters that he always does. I can't believe he doesn't see that Pangzi is there with him all along xD. What an ungrateful trash of a human being I can't even.

And anyways btw both Rin and Haru are not ideal human beings in any way (otherwise I wouldn't love them this much tbh xD). But their flaws are definitely not what for example mh shippers usually blame them for. You can argue about their other imperfections easily. Like being stupidly stubborn for example. I won't point fingers here, Haru lolz. Or literally anything else.

My point is you can find what to trash them for logically, if you wanna. Do it smartly tho. Otherwise you make your ship look bad.

And I once again say what wise person said about his relationships and about the fact that not being able with someone he loves hurt him and 'why is he doing this to himself' he answered: "it's not on him. my happiness and my pain is for me to handle". Everyone decides for themselves. This is why for example Haru was so broken about voicing this to Rin and didn't have any intentions to tell him that in the first place. Bc it's not right, if you're not sure that it's requited. Technically he has no right to blame Rin for making him fall in love with him and then leaving in the first place. It's not Rin's fault really, that he made him feel what he feels for him, it's ultimately Haru's problem. That's why he feels has no right to blame him in the first place. I mean, he doesn't know that Rin feels the same, that means saying to him "you break my heart each time you leave" and making him feel bad about it is technically wrong. That's why Haru to himself said "no, please, don't say such things to him". Everyone for himself decides who deserves your 5, 7, 800 or 10000 years of your pain. It's your decision. It's your life. If Haru feels like Rin is worth it, then you have no say in that matter really. The only reason we call Rin an idiot or Haru an idiot is because we know they feel the same, so we can. But blame someone else for not feeling what you're feeling is not right.

So like even if you feel like Makoto and Sousuke have feelings for their friends, blaming Haru and Rin for having feelings for each other and not for them is beyond weird. And there's nothing wrong with putting someone you love first, every bro/sis gets it. You can say bros before hoes all you want, but like Lan Zhan might just drop his bro for his hoe, if he was given a choice. Would it make him a bad person? The fact that Wu Xie chose to save Xiaoge before Pangzi makes his a bad person? My point is it's not all that easy.

I just feel like many ppl in this fandom are very weird about many things. Either because they do not get what it's like to go through some things or maybe they just do not get that no matter how cheesy this sounds love is not that simple. I mean, for example not all selfish is bad, sometimes like in Haru's case for example not being selfish is also bad. Bc if he finally asks for what he wants, he will make both himself AND Rin happy.

To be angry at Rin bc of the aftermath of his father's death and s1 I never had it in me, after knowing everything and how adults handled it. If some of Sousuke's fans bc of Yakusoku and the fact that Rin found his salvation in Haru bc he helped him to move forward after getting his family out of this hell alone and that Haru was the safe haven that made him happy in this moment of his life, want to trash Rin for the fact that he "neglected" Sousuke, its like your opinion. I personally do not get it. Rin doesn't owe Sousuke anything. It's not his fault again that Haru's existence helped him to feel better.

Just like not everyone will get why Haru in 1x12 was so happy about the fact that he could help Rin. To be that special somebody for someone who can "save" you in moments of your life like this, especially if you love them is an incredible feeling. And no, your bestie isn't always the person for this job, no. I don't see why people do not get that I guess, that's all. But we all have our own opinion on everything, so...

We same as you do not get it since forever, but its like it is what it is in this fandom. I personally just have another life position on stuff, so I'm very far from that point of view they have.

#answered #anonymous #rinharu #harurin #free!#nanase haruka #rin matsuoka

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tonystarksfavoritedaughter · 3 years

Text

Crazy Rich Avengers

Chapter 1:

Summary: You and Peter have been dating for a little over 6 months and have not yet met the Avengers. You were getting curious as to when you would meet them, until you get an invitation from Tony Stark himself, inviting you and Peter to Wanda and Vision’s wedding in Hawaii over Spring Break. You thought that it would be nice to go and finally meet everyone, but what will you think after you’ve been tested by the team?

*Based on the movie Crazy Rich Asians, each chapter will be a different scene from the movie. There will be 15 chapters. Also includes a GIF from the movie scene at the beginning of each chapter.

A/N: I’ve had this series planned for a little while now, and I just got this chapter done and edited and I feel really good about it. I didn’t know if anyone would want to read this until I posted about it yesterday and got some really good feedback, so thank you all who liked it and asked to be on the taglist so much! This chapter is the first scene of the movie, just some things are switched up to fit Peter and the Avengers. Just note that this one is kind of short and nothing much really happens in this chapter since it is just the beginning, but hopefully the next one is a bit juicer.

Warnings: swearing and fluff

Word count: 2166

Chapter 1

“Okay class, make sure to email me those presentations by Monday. I don’t want to keep reminding you guys over Spring Break because I’ve still got a life outside being a professor.” The whole class laughs at your professor’s bluntness. It kind of reminds you of your friend from high school, who would always spoke her truth, even when no one asked for it. You packed your things and waited for a clear space to exit your row. Who knew so many kids would be in a business class? Not you apparently. You were a culinary student at the Institute of Culinary Education or ICE for short. Your dream was to become a baker and own your bakery, hence the business class. This was your last class of the day, and you couldn’t wait to see your boyfriend. You two had been dating for a little over six months and it was the best six months you could ever ask for.

You exited out of the classroom, finally, and made your way towards the elevator. On the way down, you looked through your messages and saw that you had five new texts from Peter.

Peter: Hey babe! I’m out of my photography class now. (1:15)

Peter: Waiting by the couches (1:15)

Peter: I miss you (1:17)

Peter: I’m hungry. Let’s go to that pizza place for lunch. I really want some of their cannoli’s (1:20)

Peter: Y/NNN!!! WHERE ARE YOU??? (1:23)

The elevator stopped at the lobby and you walked over to Peter, who sprang out of his seat and practically ran over to you. He hugged with the force of what you assumed felt like ten tons just based on how tight he held you. You laughed at his clinginess and pushed him off of you.

“Dude my class ran like ten minutes late. What’s the matter with you?” you laugh.

He held your hand in his own and smiles at you. “Just missed you is all. Did you see my text about the cannoli’s?”

“Yeah I saw it.”

“And?” he asks hopefully.

“Aaaaaand what?” you played dumb just to see his cute pouty face.

“Can we get cannoli’s?”

“Yes, we can get a cannoli.”

“Ah! You’re the best! Cannoli’s!” he yells at an insane volume for someone who’s just walking down the street. This earns you both a weird look from the people on the sidewalk. You were about to kiss his cheek until he just took off down the street with your hand still in his. You guessed you never knew he liked cannoli’s so much. Maybe you should try out a recipe and make him some one day.

You get into the pizza restaurant and sit down across from each other and waited for the waiter to take your order. You order your drinks; Peter gets Diet Pepsi and you get a Sprite. Both of you talk about how your classes went and held each other’s hand while you talked.

“So, I’ve got to do this project for my class,” Peter began, “And my camera is at the Compound, so tomorrow I’ll be a little late getting home.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Oh! Speaking of which,” you slam your palms on the table, which makes Peter jump a little. “When am I going to meet them? I mean we’ve been dating for going on seven months now, and I still haven’t met them. And I know they know about me because I got a message from Nat telling me happy birthday two weeks ago.” You raise an eyebrow at him waiting for his answer.

“Speaking of said topic, that reminds me. We got invited to Wanda and Vision’s wedding. And it is next Friday in Hawaii, which is perfect because a) we don’t have classes because it’s Spring Break, and b) I know Hawaii is one of your bucket list places.”

Your jawed dropped for several reasons. One, it’s Wanda and Vision’s fucking wedding! You never met them, but from the way Peter talked about them, you could tell they were meant to be. You always thought that they were like what you and Peter had times one hundred.

“Are you serious? They’re having their wedding in Hawaii?”

“Yeah. They thought that since Mr. Stark – “

“What can I get you two today?” the waiter asked breathless. You didn’t even realize how busy they were.

You looked up at him, “I’ll have a slice of the cheese pizza please?”

“And I’ll have two slices of the meat lovers. And can I get three of your best cannoli’s please?” Peter smiled at the waiter as he wrote down your order.

“Alright that’ll be right out.” He walked away almost jogging to get your order in. Goodness they were slammed.

“As I was saying,” Peter continued. “Mr. Stark has one of those beach houses in Maui and so, they thought that it would be the perfect place for them to tie the knot.”

“Wow, so, we’re invited? Like we’re going to Maui and attending the wedding? And meeting everyone?” you asked now slightly worried.

“Yeah,” he drags out confused. “That’s what kind of what ‘You’re Invited’ means.”

“I know, it’s just…this will be the first time I’m meeting them and I always imagined it would be at a like Sunday dinner type of thing. Not a fucking Avengers wedding!”

“It’s okay, I know they’re gonna love you no matter what.”

You take a sip of your drink, “This is also works out for another reason because MJ has been asking us to come see her ever since she moved to Kahului.”

“All the more reason to go.”

You both get your food and Peter immediately starts on the cannoli’s that he’s been longing to eat and practically moans at the taste of them. You get the check and pay and tipped extra for your waiter, because they need to be paid way more than minimum wage. The two of you walk out and head home so you can spend the rest of the night together.

“So, when do we leave for Maui?” you ask, swinging your intertwined hands between the two of you.

“Umm, I believe on Saturday.”

Today was Thursday so that means that you only had tonight and tomorrow to pack for a whole entire week. “Shit! I have almost no clothes washed, are you kidding me?” you yell. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I just found out this morning!” he yelled back.

“Okay, well it’s a good thing tomorrow I don’t have classes because now I have to do laundry all damn day.” You reach your shared apartment and go to change clothes and you go straight to the laundry room, faster than Peter could imagine. All of your good, cute clothes had to be air dried and so that’s what you did first. After half hour of folding, and drying, and hanging up clothes non-stop, Peter came in wrapped his arms around you.

“Baby, you’ve been here for forever, come sit down with me,” he pleaded.

“I will once I have all the clothes done, but until then,” you pat his cheek. “I can’t.”

He sighs an ‘okay’ and plants a kiss on your cheek and walks away. About twenty minutes later you had gotten all the laundry done and went to join Peter on the couch. He was watching reruns of Brooklyn 99 which was one of your favorite shows. He put his arms out and made grabby hands and you leaned into his touch. You laid your head on his chest with the rest of your body sprawled out on the couch. He put his arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. You looked up and kissed his lips and sat up just a bit straighter. One of his hands went to the back of your neck and the other rubbed your thigh, and you relaxed even more into him. Your right hand carded through his hair and the other sat splayed on his peck, slightly gripping his shirt. You two stayed like this for what felt like hours, just basking in each other’s comfort. You pulled back to breathe and gave him one last kiss before going back to your original position, laying on him.

“What do you wanna watch?” He yawned.

“Well since your yawning and –“ you yawned this time. “And so am I, let’s just take a nap.”

He hummed in agreement and led you to your shared bedroom and he changed into just a pair of sweatpants. You laid down and he did shortly after. You turned, facing him as your chests were touching. You stared at him for quite a long time before you even realized that you were. His face scrunched up that was so cute you wanted to take a picture.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just look cute,” you said back.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Nope. I do,” he challenged.

“That’s impossible because I love you to Jupiter and back,” you kissed his nose, ultimately shutting it down because you were tired. School had kicked your ass this week and you hadn’t really had anytime to just lay with Peter. You scooted down a bit so, you could lay your head on his chest, your legs intertwined, as he held you against him so tight that nothing could slip in between you two.

The next morning you had woken up extra early to make some French toast for you and Peter. You got out the bread and butter and the rest of the ingredients and started cooking. Since you were the one who was in the culinary department, the silent agreement between you and Peter was that you would cook, and he would clean your mess. You tried to not make too much of a mess, because you weren’t that mean. After a couple more minutes you got breakfast done and at that exact moment you put the toast on the plate, Peter comes waddling out with his hair a mess. It was almost like it was scripted like a scene in a movie.

“I smelled French Toast,” he smiled.

“Mhm, I thought that I would be nice and cook breakfast for you this time.” You pecked his cheek and gave him the syrup.

“Eat up and get ready for a long day of packing suitcases, babe,” you winked at him.

“Oh boy.” You didn’t hear his sarcasm often, but when you did it always made you chuckle.

He went over to the couch and you followed setting up the coffee table and turning on Spongebob to watch as you ate. You turned towards him and smiled and received a kiss on the nose. Today was going to be a good day, you thought.

It was now four thirty in the evening and you and Peter were packing up all your belongings into your suitcases. “Okay so you need your swim trunks, flip flops, sunglasses, and what else?” You ask.

“Is that just for swimming?” You nodded. “Then yeah I think that’s it.” You went over to his drawer grabbing his trunks out along with your swimsuit. You had all your clothes spread out into separate piles consisting of swimwear, pajamas, nice shirts, casual shirts, and wedding attire. Peter grabbed all of his clothes and stuffed them into his suitcase and you did the same. After that you went to the bathroom to grab all extra stuff that consisted of teeth and hair products, and everything in that category. Peter went into the kitchen to the medicine and started to pack anything that might be needed for allergy’s and whatnot. You figured you would pack your purse of carry on items before you left tomorrow morning.

After two hours of packing and double checking, and once the bed was cleared, you flopped down face first and groaned. “I’m so exhausted,” you huffed.

“Aww, is my baby tired?” He asked this as he pressed feather-light kisses to your neck that always made you shudder.

“Yes,” you say as you awaited a kiss on the lips. He happily kisses you, slow and lovingly, and you feel like you could stay there for eternity. He pulls away for minute to catch his breath. “We should probably figure out what we want to do for dinner.”

“How ‘bout leftovers? There’s still some enchiladas or lemon pepper chicken in the fridge.”

“Ooooh, let’s do chicken.”

You get up from the bed to heat the chicken up in the oven. “Imma make some garlic cheesy rice too!” You shout from the kitchen.

“Sounds good, baby.”

You two make your dinner and eat in a comfortable silence, watching TV. You both decided to watch one more episode of Parks and Rec before calling it a night, and Peter figured it would be smart to go to bed early since you would both have a long day of checking flights and meeting the Avengers tomorrow; and that was tiring by itself.

Tag-List: @randomstufflol29 @spideyspeaches @binnotjin

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot

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blacktofade · 4 years

Note

pls oh god of fics pls grant thee touch starved Shane and oblivious Ryan in shyan ship *bows down* (i sent one before and donno if u actually got it cuz it showed error so im sending in another try)

I didn’t get your other ask unfortunately, but this is an idea I’ve been wanting to write like 10k for, but I know I’ll never have the energy. So it’s a little ficlet instead.

CW: Includes post-kidnapping, malnutrition, and an embarrassing lack of touching for a touch-starved prompt.

Shane disappears on September 17th. Ryan only remembers because they’d been scheduled to shoot an episode of Weird and/or Wonderful World and he’d had to eventually make the uncomfortable call to the Los Angeles County Arboretum and Botanic Garden to cancel their tour and interview.

It had been funny at first with Shane’s habitual lateness. They’d all assumed he’d slept late, forgot what day it was, and completely blanked on the filming schedule.

It’s less funny a week later when a missing person’s report is filed and Shane’s parents fly out to stay with Scott while they wait for any kind of news.

Detective Flores finds him two states over, a month and a half later. There are six hostages in total, as part of some elaborate heist that’s foiled before it comes to fruition. Shane’s kept in hospital for almost a full week, treated for malnutrition and a few general injuries, the news passed to Ryan through Scott via a DM on Instagram.

For the first time since Shane’s disappearance, Ryan sleeps through the whole night.

On the Saturday following Shane’s return, Ryan wakes to a phone call at eight in the morning.

“Hello?” he answers, voice rough from sleep, brain barely online.

“I’m sorry,” Shane apologizes, but his voice alone is enough to wake up Ryan the rest of the way. It’s the first he’s heard from him. He’d been trying to give the family space and knew Shane would find him once he was ready. Apparently, now is that time. “Can you come pick me up?”

“Sure,” Ryan agrees instantly, shoving back the covers and getting out of bed. “Where are you?”

“My apartment,” Shane admits and Ryan pauses from where he’s trying to dig out a pair of clean pants. “I just need a break.”

“Sure,” Ryan repeats. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line before, quietly, Shane says, “Thanks, Ryan.”

Shane’s waiting at the curb when Ryan pulls up.

Ryan unlocks the door and watches Shane fold himself into his seat, waiting a moment for Shane to settle before reaching over to set a hand on his knee, squeezing gently.

“Hey man,” he says gently. “Long time no see.”

Shane startles at the touch, but glances over, offering a small smile in return.

He looks different. His face is thinner, his cheekbones a little more prominent, and there’s a new scar on the right side of his forehead that disappears into his hairline.

“Hey,” Shane replies, buckling his seatbelt and giving Ryan a view of his right hand, which has two fingers splinted together. “Thanks for coming.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

Ryan stares at him incredulously and eventually Shane looks away, out the passenger side window.

“It’s just hard being surrounded by everyone right now,” he says, clearly talking about his family. “I need a break.”

Ryan checks over his shoulder and pulls back onto the road.

“Is my apartment okay? Or did you want to go somewhere else?”

“Your place is fine,” Shane tells him, and from the corner of his eye, Ryan sees him turn his head, staring as though Ryan won’t notice.

At the next red light, Ryan glances over. “How are you doing?”

Shane looks away, clearly caught. “Getting tired of people asking me that. It’s all anyone asks these days.”

“Guess they just want to know you’re okay.”

Shane glances back towards him. “Could be better,” he says bluntly and Ryan can’t help but let out a quiet huff of laughter.

“Yeah, no shit. But the hospital cleared you?”

“Yeah,” Shane sighs. “Apart from a few broken fingers and some weight loss, I’m okay.”

“I missed you,” Ryan admits. “It’s probably the longest I’ve gone without seeing you since we started at BuzzFeed.”

Shane frowns like he’s thinking and then the frown deepens. “Jesus, you might be right.”

Ryan laughs again. “Horrifying thought, huh?”

“Puts things in perspective.”

“Didn’t you miss me?” Ryan asks jokingly, but Shane doesn’t answer, just laughs quietly.

“It’s weird,” Shane says. “I was never alone, but it feels like I have to relearn how to be around people now.”

Ryan had read the news after Shane’s rescue. There had been five others saved alongside Shane, so he suspects they might be the reason Shane wasn’t alone.

Ryan shrugs gently. “Adjusting is hard, and I’m sure it’s even harder with your family refusing to let you out of their sights.”

Shane shakes his head. “You have no idea. I was in the shower for twenty minutes this morning and they started knocking on the door to see if I was still alive.”

“Rough,” Ryan laments. “Well, you’re welcome to chill at my place for as long as you need.”

“Can I move in?” Shane jokes, but Ryan just shrugs.

“If that’s what you want.”

It’s silent for a moment before Shane says, “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Ryan offers him a smile. “Of course, dude. It’s what I’m here for.”

It’s quiet for the rest of the drive until Ryan pulls into his usual parking spot and glances over. “You good?

Shane nods and carefully unbuckles his seatbelt. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

Ryan’s chest tightens watching Shane limp his way towards the front door, but he knows the last thing Shane needs is more helicoptering.

“Can I get you anything?” Ryan asks as he shuts the door behind them, watching Shane glance around as though he expects Ryan to have redecorated during his disappearance, but ultimately Shane shakes his head. “Okay, well, make yourself at home. You know the drill. I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

He knows Shane can find his own way to the living room, so he moves around him, heading in the direction of the kitchen instead.

“Ryan?” Shane questions and Ryan pauses, turning back.

“Yeah?”

Shane hesitates like he doesn’t know how to get the words out, but after a moment, he takes two steps closer and draws Ryan into a hug instead.

Ryan isn’t entirely expecting it. Shane’s not a touchy-feely guy, which means Ryan can probably count on one hand the amount of times they’ve hugged. But Shane folds around him so tightly that it startles the breath right out of him.

“I did miss you,” Shane mutters and Ryan lifts his hands to reciprocate, holding Shane as hard as he dares when everything feels so fragile.

“I was really worried,” Ryan admits. “I thought you’d been killed.”

He finds himself rubbing one hand along Shane’s spine, trying to soothe him as Shane tucks his face against his shoulder.

“You were gone for a long time,” Ryan continues.

He can feel the warmth of Shane’s breath through his shirt as he exhales shakily. “They broke my fingers when I tried to escape.”

Ryan holds him tighter, needing them both to understand that Shane’s safe again. Having the weight of Shane leaning against him is grounding in a way he never knew it could be. About a month into Shane’s disappearance, Ryan had gone through a mourning period, assuming he’d never see Shane again. He finds tears prickling his eyes as the relief hits him solidly in the chest.

“God, Shane,” he murmurs and he’s not sure who’s comforting who.

The warmth of Shane spreads through him, all the way down to his toes, like a cup of hot soup on a cold day. Except that Ryan never realized he was too cold until this moment. He feels alive and whole again, and he knows he can’t even begin to understand what Shane experienced. The fact that he can feel every ridge of Shane’s spine as his hand passes along it says enough.

When he finally starts feeling like Shane’s probably ready to let go, he loosens his arms and shifts, one foot lifting to take a step backwards.

“Just a little longer,” Shane requests and Ryan’s more than happy to comply, a noise of agreement escaping as he nods.

“I’ll stay here as long as you need,” Ryan tells him. “It’s just good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Shane replies and tightens his grip again like he might never let go.

To be honest, Ryan’s okay with that. He holds on just as tightly and settles against Shane, finally feeling happy again for the first time in months.

#thing wot i wrote #fic #shyan #prompts 2021 #benaya-trash #benaya trash

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escapewithbts · 3 years

Text

Charity Case - Yoongi

Not super edited, not sure if I love it, blah blah blah, please still enjoy...

I’ve been in such a Yoongi mood lately 😇

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

You stared at your bank statement, or more specifically, your savings account. You had saved up a decent amount of money, that was for sure, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to kickstart your dream.

It all happened a few days ago on a Tuesday afternoon. You had just finished lunch with a friend who was from your home country. The two of you had found a restaurant specializing in the traditional food from there since you both were craving a taste of home. On your walk back to your apartment, you noticed the road you usually took was blocked off with construction (typical for the summertime in Seoul you were learning), so ultimately you had to take a detour, pulling out your Maps app. Although you lived in Hongdae, you really only took the same few roads daily. Therefore, you still did not quite know your way around.

The new directions had you weave down a side street, one you had never been on before. To your surprise, it was full of restaurants, shops, and cafes, and since Hongdae was known for homing many foreigners within the city of Seoul, many of them featured things you were very familiar with from back home.

Strolling down the block you made mental notes of places you wanted to try, places that were bustling with people, figuring they must be good if that’s the case.

All of a sudden, between an American grocery store and floral shop, you noticed a beautiful empty store front. You peered in the large windows and was met with a decent sized space, white walls, white tile floors, a lot of natural lighting. It was perfect. In the corner of the same window there was a sign that read “FOR LEASE” with the name of the agent and a phone number.

You took a picture of said sign before stuffing your phone back in your pocket. There was no harm in calling, right? Even just getting a feel for the space was harmless…right?

For ever since coming to Seoul from abroad, it was your dream to open your own bakery. To make desserts and breads and pastries fresh daily for the Seoulites to try and the foreigners to feel nostalgic for their home countries. You were currently working a boring office job as a translator, saving for the moment you could follow your true dream.

And maybe this was a sign… this was it.

So, you did call. You did get a feel for the space. And it was perfect. Turns out it had been a pizza shop that went under, (too much competition) so there were already ovens and freezers and refrigeration, all in great working condition. The agent informed you the floor could be ripped up and replaced, there were already light fixtures attached in the ceiling that could connect to chandeliers and you were already picturing plants hanging from macrame in front of the large windows.

But there was just one problem.

As you stared at your savings account and compared it to the down payment in the brochure the realtor had given you… they didn’t match. You were short about 1/3 of the cost, especially since there was still some work to be done inside to really make it your own.

You heart sunk. You mentally scolded yourself for getting your hopes up. It was in such a prime location; how could you have been so stupid to think it was in your price range!

Suddenly, instead of staring at your lack of funds, you were staring at your face in your phone’s front camera as you received a FaceTime call request. ‘Yoongi’ was the name at the top of the phone screen, accompanied by your favorite picture you had taken of him candidly making a gummy smile caused by a joke you had told. Right on time for the daily call you two always had.

You sighed. Did you really want to speak to him right now? You were great friends, you had (stupidly) told him about the place and he had been so incredibly excited for you. He was so supportive and encouraging… it was incredibly endearing. Reminding yourself of that you pressed the green accept button.

Immediately you were met with the handsome face and bleach blonde hair of Min Yoongi. He was resting his head back on his black leather sofa, his narrow eyes meeting yours between screens.

“Hi Yoongi-ah,” you gave him a small smile.

“Hey (y/n).” he responded, returning the smile.

You stood up and walked over to the couch in your small apartment, sitting down and curling your legs underneath you.

“What are you up to?” you asked.

He reached towards the screen and flipped it, so it was now looking forward. An NBA basketball game was playing on the large tv in his living room.

“Watching the game. It’s game 4 of the finals so if Pheonix wins this one they only have one more game to win before they win it all.”

He returned the screen to face him.

“Oh, that’s cool,” you replied, “Did you have a lot on your work schedule today?”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“It wasn’t too bad. Practiced PTD for a Japanese tv performance we have coming up. Worked on some music between rehearsals,” he shrugged, “the usual.”

You nodded.

“You?” he questioned, “how was your day?”

You looked down at the couch cushions and fiddled with the blanket that laid beside you. You bit your lip before responding.

“Fine. It was fine. I, uh, I had that appointment. With the agent in charge of that space I was interested in?”

Yoongi’s eyes got wide, and he perked his head up.

“Shit, I forgot that was today. How was it? Did you like it as much as you thought you would?”

A small grin appeared on your face remembering how picturesque it had been.

“It was even better than I thought it would be, Yoongs,” you told him.

He smiled wide.

“That’s incredible! So wh-what now? Did you put down the money for it? Or did you need me to come with you to look at it again, see if there’s anything that needs fixing that I can do??”

You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head. He was so sweet, and it broke your heart even more.

“Thank you, Yoongi, for offering, but that… won’t be necessary.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, expecting his next question to make you feel uneasy.

He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What? Why not? I really don’t mind.”

You sighed, suddenly incredibly embarrassed to be admitting this to your friend.

“I just saw the statement of my bank account and, well, I don’t… I can’t afford the down payment. I don’t have enough saved up yet.”

You couldn’t help but look down in shame. Yoongi never talked about his money or how much he made being in BTS, but you weren’t stupid. He worked incredibly hard for everything he and his fellow members have achieved and you were nothing but proud of him. He deserved it all, even the unassumingly large income he was bringing in. He would never, ever flaunt it or make you feel inferior to him because of it, but you still felt slightly inefficient in your confession.

Yoongi’s face softened.

“Oh… I’m-I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You shrugged and gave him a small, hopeful smile.

“It’s alright. It just means it wasn’t meant to be, that’s all.”

He gave you a sympathetic frown.

“But you said it was perfect.” He reminded you.

You placed your fingers to the bridge of your nose.

“Because it is, Yoongi-ah. It’s bright and cozy and practically ready. Not to mention it’s an incredible location,” you rolled your eyes at yourself, “I really should have known it would be too much.”

“How much is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You looked away again and scrunched your nose, before telling him the exact amount required to put down in order for the space to be yours.

His mouth formed into that straight line he was known for when he was neither happy nor displeased by something.

“Could you get a loan? Like from a bank?”

You shook your head.

“I already looked into it,” you informed him, “it’s weird because my bank is home, but I’m abroad so there would be a lot of hoops to jump through and the chances of being approved are slim to none. Basically, it’s not worth putting a mark on my credit for.”

He nodded in understanding, looking away for a moment. His eyebrows knitted together in thought, and as much as you appreciated him trying to help you, you had already thought of all the possible solutions, and you didn’t really want to talk about it anymore.

“It’s okay, Yoongs, really, I’ll find someplace else.” You smiled reassuringly at him.

He looked back at you and hummed in agreement before you began talking about something else.

The next day you had barely stepped out of your office building after a long day at work when your phone’s text message notification sound went off.

5:49pm from Yoongi: Are you off work yet?

5:49pm to Yoongi: Leaving now. What’s up?

5:50pm from Yoongi: Can you meet me here at the HYBE building ASAP?

You furrowed your eyebrows.

5:50pm to Yoongi: Sure. Is everything okay?

5:50pm from Yoongi: Yeah, everything is fine

5:51pm from Yoongi: Come to the Forum at the top floor when you get here, okay? I already told the front desk you’re coming

5:51pm to Yoongi: You’re being weird but okay

5:51pm from Yoongi: Don’t worry so much you pabo, it’s nothing bad

You rolled your eyes and locked your phone before hailing a taxi.

The ride to Yoongi’s work was longer than usual because of traffic, but eventually you made it, giving a wad of cash to the driver and stepping out of the cab. The tall, reflective HYBE building intimidated you a little bit, like you were going to get in trouble just for stepping foot on its grounds, but you confidently passed the transparent sign that read “HYBE We Believe in Music” and opened the doors to the main entrance. A woman at the front desk greeted you and asked to see your ID when you told her you were here to see Min Yoongi. When she confirmed your identity, she gestured toward the elevators.

“Yes, you may proceed to the Forum on the 19th floor, he is waiting near the café there.”

You nodded and thanked her before letting the elevator doors close in front of you.

The aroma of coffee wafted into your nose immediately upon stepping out of the elevators. It smelled heavenly. You walked past many groups of HYBE businessmen and women taking breaks or in small meetings before finally spotting Yoongi at a table in the corner near the large windows. He was fixated on his phone, an iced Americano on the table in front of him, and another iced drink sitting across. It had been a few weeks since you had seen him in person as his schedule was usually jam packed, but upon seeing him now your heart skipped a beat and a wide smile formed on your lips. You hadn’t seen his newly bleached hair in person yet and he looked even more handsome than you imagined. His pale skin glowed in the sunlight. It was good to see him again. You missed him.

“Hi,” you said, pulling out the chair and sitting down across from him, “the building is incredible.”

He glanced up at you and nodded in agreement.

“It’s nice. They did a great job. I don’t mind coming to work as much now.” He chuckled to himself, and you rolled your eyes.

He pointed to the beverage in front of you.

“The drinks are good, too, I got your favorite.”

You smiled at him and took a sip. He was right, it was delicious.

“Thanks, Yoongs.”

He stared at you for a moment, a grin forming on his face. Your face felt hot, and you had to look away.

“Sooo… why did you need me here so urgently?” you quickly wondered.

“Urgently?” he retaliated, “it sure took you long enough.”

Oh, how you loved his bluntness.

You scoffed.

“Well, excuuuuse me, Mr. Min, normal people go home from work around this time, so traffic was absolutely horrendous! Could you have picked any other time of day?”

He smiled and looked down at his hands while shaking his head.

“This was literally the only open slot I had today, sorry,” he glanced at the time on his phone, “and I’m already almost out of time as it is.”

You waved your hands, urging him on.

“Well then, what is it that it couldn’t wait?”

He scratched the back of his neck and chuckled nervously.

“Aiisshh okay, please don’t be mad.”

You narrowed your eyes and cocked your head.

“Mad? What? What is it, Min Suga?”

He took a deep breath and reached into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small piece of paper. Then he unfolded it carefully and placed it in the middle of the table facing you.

To your shock, it was a personal check. From Yoongi’s bank account. Written for the exact amount you had told him last night of the down payment for the perfect shop you couldn’t afford.

Your jaw dropped and your eyes left the rectangular paper to look into his. They were a little weary, maybe, but hopeful.

“Yoongi…” you started.

He held up his hand.

“Please. Just take it, (y/n).”

Your heart was pounding. There in front of you was the exact amount you needed to start your dream. Your very own bakery. And combined with the amount you had in your savings you could even add some extra touches!

But… you couldn’t do it. You knew you couldn’t. This was your dream, and even if that amount of money was nothing to someone like Yoongi, you wanted to be the one to earn it, like he had earned all his successes.

“I-I… I can’t, Yoongi.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“(y/n) …”

“Thank you, Yoongi, truly, it means so much.”

He shook his head and motioned to the check.

“Then just take it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“But you said so yourself that place is perfect! You were in love with it!”

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. Did he have to keep reminding you how great it was?

“Yes. But I cannot afford it. There will be other places.”

“You can afford it if you take this. Please, (y/n), this won’t hurt me in anyway financially, I’m good. I want you to be, too.”

“I am good, Yoongi. I work hard and I’m saving. This place is just not it and I have to accept that. Maybe a time will come where I can afford someplace like it, and when it does it will be just as perfect.”

He rolled his eyes.

“How do you know you’ll find another place?? Jesus, you’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, (y/n).”

Your hands balled up into fists. Okay that was it. Calling you stubborn because you wanted to be self sufficient had made you hit your boiling point.

“I’m stubborn? How about I just don’t want to be your charity case, idol Min Yoongi, hmm?” you whispered harshly to him, “I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t want your help; I don’t need your help. I’m a fucking adult, too, you know, just because I don’t make millions doesn’t mean I can’t make smart financial decisions. God, do you think I’m just that pathetic?”

You got up to leave, so over this conversation.

Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut.

“What? Fuck, (y/n), no I don’t think you’re pathetic. If anything… I-I’m the pathetic one.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before marching back toward the elevators and hitting the down arrow button.

Yoongi followed.

“Do you know why?” he asked, jumping into the elevator with you before the doors could close.

It was just the two of you as it began its long descent down 19 floors.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why what? Why you’re pathetic?” you snorted, “Because you just offered your friend an obscene amount of money for something you have no part in?”

He looked down at the floor and took a deep breath.

Finally, he peered back up at you and his dark brown eyes met yours.

“Well, that, and because,” he paused, shuffling nervously on his feet, “because I’m having a really hard time telling that same friend how I truly feel about her.”

Your heart stopped and your mouth fell open again, in a different kind of shock.

“What?” you said softly.

“Fuck, I love you, (y/n)!” the pale skin of his face turned a bright red, and he took his gaze away again, “Aiiisshh, I’m sorry, I’m just horrible at showing my emotions and telling people how I feel. I guess I was hoping offering you the money would help you understand but I didn’t even think how it would come off, I just wanted you to know that I support you and I want to be apart of your decisions in life as more than a friend and- “

You cut off his worrisome rant by flinging yourself towards him and kissing him hard. It was his turn to be shocked, but he instantly got the memo and pushed you back against the wall of the elevator in passion. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his large hands grazing the bare skin of your lower back under your shirt. You gripped your hands in his blonde locks.

The elevator let out a ding signaling you had reached the first floor. You pulled away from each other, panting from the heat of the moment. You smiled.

“I love you, too, Yoongs. But I’m still not taking your money.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted.

Then you started to exit the elevator, but you felt him grab your wrist.

“Wait.”

You turned back toward him with confused eyes.

He grinned at you, his eyes suddenly full of lust.

“Do you maybe... want to see my new studio?”

Masterlist

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iliumheightnights · 4 years

Text

Donut Date | Luther Hargreeves x Male Reader

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Pairing: Luther Hargreeves x Male Reader Summary: Luther starts questioning his sexuality.

A/N: Another co write with @inhumanshadows! Again you should thank them for getting me to write more! haha.

...

Luther finished handing over the last of the criminals over to the authorities. "Here. Get em out of here." This was one of his solo missions so his siblings weren't with him. With everything finished up, he began making his way back to the academy. However on his way home he spotted a bar and against everything thought, he decided he needed a drink after this particular night. Entering the bar, it was rather busy for what time of the night it was. There was a free seat at the bar and he took it while ordering himself a drink.

“This seat taken” Luther turns to the voice and sees you there, hand gesturing to an empty seat next to him.

“Uh no please sit.”

You smile and nod. “Hey Max? Two beers.”

Luther gives you a brief smile and nod himself.

When Max hand's you the beer, you hand one to Luther. "Here. Seems like you might need another one."

Luther was going to say how he already had a drink but noticed then that he had drunk it all and only an empty bottle remained. He grabbed the new beer with another smile before lifting in a cheer. "Thanks." He started chugging it down at that.

“So... What’s your name thirsty?” You ask, sipping at your beer.

“Oh um. I’m Luther.”

“Hmm. Hi luther. The names Y/N.”

"Nice to meet you." Luther was keeping his eyes away from you. Honestly he never was one for friends or anything like that, just look how it's like with his own family. He took another swig, making the bottle get even more empty.

"You're not a people person are you?" You said, looking at Luther's face. "It's alright. Not everyone is." You take another sip of your beer before asking him another question. "So what's got you troubled? I can see that look on your face. It looks like you're contemplating all of your life choices right now, hence why you're here to drown out your problems."

“Oh. I guess so... I’ve just had a long day. And some family trouble.”

You make a sound of understanding.

“Family... enough said there my friend. Family is all kinds of crazy.”

Luther laughs. “Yeah I guess you’re right. What about you? Why are you drowning your problems away?”

“My boyfriend dumped me for my best friend... well ex best friend...”

Luther wasn't really sure how to respond to that. "Oh...I'm, sorry?"

You laughed at how he looked. "You...don't really know how to talk to people do you?"

Luther couldn't help the little smirk that showed up on his face. "That obvious huh?"

You lifted up your hands and pinched your fingers together. "Just a little bit. But that's okay, I love flustered guys."

Luther feels his face heat up, not used to what’s happening.

“I’m sorry.” You quickly say, seeing how uncomfortable he is. “Here I am being all flirty and you might not even be into guys.”

Luther blushes even more. "It's alright. No..m'not really into....I don't know." He wasn't sure what he was saying. His whole life he hadn't been into guys, he was barely into girls. He had no time to really have a relationship...but here he was feeling something. Every time he looked at your smile he couldn't help but smile himself. "Maybe I am."

You got quiet and blushed yourself. "Well then any guy would be lucky to get a chance to be with you."

Before Luther could say anything his phone went off. He fishes it out of his pocket and sighs heavily at a text from Pongo.

“I’m sorry Y/N... I-“

You place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You gotta go? You gotta go. Tell ya what.” You stop and write something down on a napkin. “Call me and maybe we can grab another drink or something.”

Luther gently grabbed the napkin, his hand slightly brushing yours. "U-ugh, Y-yeah. I'd like that." He smiled again and pulled out some money to pay for his drinks. You stopped him before. "I got this one. You get next time."

"Thanks."

Luther leaves the bar, slipping the napkin into his pocket with a smile.

“Well that was a good moment on an otherwise sucky day.” He says to himself.

That was a week ago. Luther hadn't stopped thinking of you since then. The napkin was on his dresser and countless time's he had typed in the number but never actually called you. Honestly, he was scared. He wasn't sure what the feelings for you were but he wanted to find out, he like how you made him feel. Typing in the number, he finally called you.

"Hello?"

Luther hesitated but finally got the courage. "(Y/N)? It's Luther."

“Oh hey handsome! I was wondering if I’d ever hear from ya. How are you?”

“Oh I’m good. To be honest I’d been try to call you for a while. But just couldn’t get past the nerves...”

“I understand. But hey better late than never.”

“Y/N? Are you free tonight. Or maybe right now? I was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab some donuts or something?”

Luther just stared at his phone screen in silence. He was confused.

He just technically asked you out on a date... for donuts but still.

Oh god! Is it s date?? Does he know it’s a date??

Thoughts like this continued to run through his head until there was a knock at his door.

The door opened and Diego poked his head in. "Hey have you seen my knife? I set it down and I haven't been able to- whoah. You look like you've been to hell...well more than normal."

Luther wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure what he was feeling for you and what he actually was. "I-I'm fine." He voice cracked a bit, betraying him to his brother. Diego couldn't help but laugh at his voice crack. "Whaaat the hell was that? I've never heard that before." He fully entered into the room. "Come on. What's wrong?"

“Um... I uh... met someone last week. And now I’m meeting them for donuts soon.” Luther informs.

“Okay... What’s so weird about that that makes you look like shit?” Diego asks sitting on the bed.

“Well... I really like... him.”

Diego nodded his head in understanding. "Ah. I understand now." Diego sat besides him. "I know we've had our problems and still do but...don't overthink this. Your hearts telling you one thing but your head is making you too afraid to act. Just go for it." For once, Diego actually gave him good advice.

Luther nodded his head and stood up. "Thanks. Now I have to go I have to meet him at Griddy's like now." Luther grabbed his coat and left the room. Diego smirked and called out after him. "I want to meet him!" He then began looking around. "Now...where's my knife?"

Luther made his way to Griddy's and entered. In one of the booths you were looking over a menu. Taking a breath he calmly walked over to you. "Hey (Y/N). Good to see you."

You smiled and as you saw him. "Luther! It's good to see you too, come have a seat. I'm just looking to see what I want."

Luther nods and takes a seat next to you, also looking at the menu.

You guys order a half dozen of whatever Agnes recommends, too many choices to make on your own. And who better to ask than the woman making them.

“I’m glad you called. I know I said that earlier but I really am happy you called.” You say, biting into a classic strawberry frosted.

Luther bites into his own. "Yeah, me too." For a while the two of you just eat in silence but eventually he speaks again. "Sorry. I've never been on a date before. I'm not really sure how to go about it."

"Wait this is a date?" You stare at him in shock.

Luther's eyes widen. "Oh! I just thought...I'm sorry I should have-"

You laugh and reach over holding his arm. "Hey, I'm just fucking with you. I know it's a date and you're doing fine. First dates are always awkward."

Luther lets out a sigh.

"You okay? I know that was a bit of a dick move."

Luther gives you a warm smile. "It's fine. I think I needed that. I was kinda overthinking things... had to have my little brother convince me to 'nut up and do it' as he'd probably put it. He wants to meet you by the way."

You laugh at the story, "Well if things go good here and I do meet him, remind me to thank him."

After finishing up, Luther paid for the donuts this time. "It's only fair. you got the drinks last time."

The two of you walked close together down the sidewalk. "I'm not ready to finish yet honestly. I'm liking my time with you." You said to the man. Looking at him he seemed to be thinking of something, something that was keeping his head distracted. "Hey." No answer. "Earth to Luther hello!?" That got his attention. "What's going on?"

He didn't hesitate. "Be my boyfriend." It was rushed but you could tell he meant it. "Be my boyfriend. Please." He seemed so nervous, but so sure at the same time.

You smiled and wrapped your arm around his. "I thought you'd never ask." Sure it was quick, but sometimes you just have to take chances.

The two of you walk leaning against the other, no particular location in mind. You walk around a nearby park until it gets too cold.

"We can head to my house?" Luther says.

"Sounds good... I can meet your brother, whom I have to thank for my new boyfriend."

Luther smiled but ultimately groaned. "He's never going to let me forget it either."

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x male reader #luther hargreeves #luther hargreeves x male reader #luther hargreeves x male!reader #luther hargreeves x reader #luther hargreeves imagines

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