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vamp4kaulitz · 1 year

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𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐅 || 𝐁.𝐊

ik this isn’t a request but I thought of it because I was wearing my red scarf and it seems like a bill thing to do😞💔 I am still working on a requests yall don’t worry

!2003 bill x !gn reader

!2007 bill later on

Bill’s POV

Year: 2003

Location: Leipzig Germany

Month: December

“Hey bill!” Y/N said while sitting next to me. “Oh hey!” I smiled. I had a crush on Y/N for a while but I was afraid to tell them. “Wanna play in the snow later after school?!” Y/N smiled and i nodded quickly. “Of course! Can the others come too?” I smiled widely and Y/N nodded. “Yeah of course, the more the merrier!” Y/N giggled and we both laughed for a bit and then payed attention to class.

Y/N’s POV

“Ma! Can I go play with Bill and the others for a bit?” I asked while running downstairs with my outfit already ready. “Okay but remember we have to be up early tomorrow.” She yelled from the kitchen and I nodded and ran outside. I ran to Bill’s house and saw them all playing outside. “Hi guys!” I smiled and they all looked at me. “Hey! We were wondering if you could make it.” Bill smiled while hugging me and I chuckled. “Of course I could make it.” I giggled and went to play with them.

“Ouch! Tom!” I felt a snowball go directly on my face. “Oopies I guess?” He shrugged his shoulders and I threw a snowball at him. “Hey!” He shouted while wiping his face. “That’s what you get!” I say while running and he starts to run after me with a grin on his face. I kept running but I felt someone grab me and pick me up a bit. “Hey!” I said while kicking my feet but I saw it was georg. “Stop it you two. Let’s all just have some fun!” Georg chuckled and put me down.

“Come on guys, let’s make a snow angel!” I smiled and jumped on my back into the snow. Bill jumped next to me and looked at me while giggling and we both looked at enough and then I got an idea. “Let’s take a photo with our snow angels side by side with our name!” I say while getting up a putting my name next to my snow angel and bill did the same. Bill ran inside to grab his camera and came back out and took a picture.

We all giggled and then I heard my mom yelling for me. “Y/N! Y/N! It’s time to come back now!” My mom yelled and I yelled okay and then looked at the others. “I have to go guys.” I pouted and they all sighed. “Aww..will you come back tomorrow?” Bill asked and I froze when he asked that question. I was about to answer but my mom yelled my name again and I got up. “I’m sorry guys! I gotta go! Goodbye!” I ran away while waving and they waved back.

Third persons POV

“Wait..did they just say goodbye?” Bill’seyes widen and looked at the others. “Goodbye means when they are leaving leaving..” He said with fear in his voice. “They probably didn’t mean it.” Gustav reassured and Georg agreed. “But..they can’t leave, I still haven’t told them how I felt yet.” Bill said and Tom hugged him. “Its okay..we are pretty sure they meant bye. They would’ve told us if they were leaving leaving.”

One day later

“Come on Y/N, the truck is about to leave!” Y/N’s mom yelled while putting the last of our boxes in the truck. “Wait a moment ma, just please!” Y/N said while running to Bill and Tom’s house. Y/N knocked on the door loudly and started to get impatient when no one opened it. Y/N knocked about twice and then saw Bill opening the door while yawning and rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong Y/N?” He asked and Y/N hugged him. “I’m moving to the USA, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys sooner!” Y/N said and Bill’s sleepy eyes now turned into widen one’s. “What?” He said surprised. “I don’t have much time before I leave, I’m sorry!” Y/N say in a hurry and was about to leave but bill stopped them. “Wait! Please! Have this scarf..so you don’t forget me.” He said while running in the house real quick and came back with a red scarf. “Take it, please!” He begged and Y/N smiled softly and took it. “Thank you.. I’ll keep it forever.” Y/N said while putting it on. “Y/N!!” Y/N mom yelled and Y/N started to fidget with their hands. “I-I have to go!” Y/N said while looking at their mom and then him.

“Wait! Y/N I like you!” Bill said and Y/N looked at him shocked. “W-What?!” Y/N said shocked not being able to process everything right now and then Bill kissed them and pulled away. “I know it’s all of a sudden but I do, please don’t forget me! Please, remember me!” Bill say while smiling sadly and then Y/N smiled back and was about to say something but heard the truck honking. “Goodbye Bill!” Y/N said while running and Bill held his hand out for them but retreated it. “Goodbye..” He said while looking down and then back up to watch Y/N leave.

Y/N got in the car and it was passing Bill’s house, he was still standing there while waving at them. Y/N rolled down the window and waved at him. “Goodbye Bill! Please don’t forget me!” Y/N yelled and he shouted back. “I won’t! Please don’t forget me either! And don’t forget what I said! Promise me in the future we will be together!” He yelled. “I promise!!” Y/N said and then put their head back inside the car and then leaned back in the seat and softly started to cry. “Will I ever see him again?” Y/N thought while wiping their tears.

Bills POV

Year: 2007

Location: Leipzig Germany

Month: August

It’s been four years since I last seen Y/N. It’s now 2007. I remember what I told them, and I’ve been thinking about it everyday. Will I ever see them again? Will they ever appear? I thought about it, not giving up on the love of my life.

“Bill, come on. We are about to start.” Tom said snapping me out of my thoughts and I nodded. I went out of the dressing room and walked up on stage. Everyone started screaming when we came onstage and I smiled. “Hello everyone!” I yelled in the mic and everyone started screaming. “Let’s make this concert a great one!!” I yelled in German and everyone yelled along.

Y/N’s POV

I was waiting outside the venue, to see one of my favorite bands, tokio hotel. I was with my best friend and we were waiting patiently. “I can’t believe we are seeing them in person!” My friend smiled and i nodded while grinning. “I know right! I bet they look even better up close. Since we do have front row tickets.” I said and she nodded. After about 30 minutes the venue opened and we handed the person in front our tickets and we ran inside. It was crowded and we made our way to the front. A perfect view anyone would wanna see.

“I can’t believe this is happening!” My friend said while jumping up and down and i chuckled. “Me either! I hope they play my favorite album!” I smiled and then everyone started screaming and I looked on stage and there they were. They were here. I looked directly at Bill and he started talking. “Hello everyone!” He yelled in the mic and I cheered. “Lets make this concert a great one!!” He yelled once again and everyone yelled long with him. They started to play schrei and everyone screamed. We all sung along to the song and Bill started to look in the crowd while smiling. He then looked in the front row and our eyes met. His eyes widen and I was confused but I continued to cheer.

“Alright guys, this next song we will bring someone up to the stage!” Bill said and everyone cheered. Bill looked into the crowd once again and then looked at me. “You.” He pointed at me while smiling and my best friend jumped up and down. “Go! You got this!” She said and I smiled and Bill held his hand out to me. The security helped me get on the stage and I successfully got up there. “What’s your name?” He asked while looking into my eyes with those beautiful brown eyes. “Y/N!” I smiled and he smiled at me. “Let’s give it up for Y/N!” He yelled and everyone started cheering. They started to play [F/A/N] and I got excited. They put on my favorite song from the album and I was singing along with Bill the whole time.

It was the last song by now and the concert was coming to an end and I was about to get off the stage but bill grabbed me. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He asked and I looked at my best friend and she gave me a thumbs up and walked away but I saw her getting stopped by Tom. I chuckled at her and looked at bill. “Yea of course, what’s up?” I said and he took me backstage.

“Look I know this sounds crazy but is your last name [L/N]?” He asked and my eyes widen. “Um yes why?” I said nervously and his eyes soften. “Do you really not remember me?” He said in a soft voice and i raised a brow and then started to think. “I give you a red scarf when we were little..before you moved away. and then I confessed my feelings to you..” Bill said softly and I thought for a second and then my eyes widen.

“Oh my god, Billy!” I said and hugged him. He chuckled and grabbed my chin. “Did you forget our promise too?” Bill smiled and I got a bit shy. “No..I didn’t..since I got reminded..” I smiled and he chuckled. “So? What do you think?” He said while wiggling his brows and I giggled. “I think we can start dating..” I smiled and he smiled widely. “I’ve been waiting for years my gosh, I thought you would forget me forever. Also, I thought you were going to the US?” He said and i chuckled and snatched my head.

“Well, I moved back because my mom got fired from her job..since her old job moved there and we had to move. So we came back to Germany.” I said and he nodded. “Then..that means I get to stay with you..forever.” Bill grinned and I nodded. We hugged and then I heard my phone ringing. “Hold on. Hello ma?” I said and pulled away from the hug and answered the phone. “Umm I’ll come home in a few..” I said and then I sighed. “Okay okay I’m on my way now.” I hung up and looked at bill with a sad expression.

“I know we both just reunited but I have to go. Here, I’ll give you my number.” I said and grabbing a piece of paper and writing my number on it and giving it to him smiling. “It was nice seeing you after years. You have no idea how much I missed you.” Bill smiled and i smiled back at him. “I’ll get going mkay?” I said and Bill nodded. “I’ll walk you, I don’t want my liebe to be hurt.” He smiled and I chuckled.

[F/A/N] = Favorite album name

hehe this took me only a few days to write

getting back to requests though!!

taglist😘: @bored0writer @saumspam @ilovebill-and-gustav @billybabeskaulitz

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel x reader

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yoruio · 7 months

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Post!Hour of Joy Catnap x Reader HCs:

Genre: Fluff!!!!!!

AN: really short thingy I did, cant get the catnap brainrot outta my head, based him off a house cat a tad bit too much

☾ Catnap took some time to get used to you. And a lot of sweets— but in the end it all seemed to work out!

☾ The first few days, Catnap would stalk around the playroom to avoid the kids running about just so he could see what you were up to!

☾ Kickin and Hoppy would always spot him and pull him back into the play area every time he got caught.

☾ Catnap is not the one to give up easily and would sneak out during recess time and leave little trinkets on your desk

☾ Ever since you taught him how to be more social, he and the kids that would go to Playcare grew to become very close and would help him do tasks that require smaller hands, like folding paper or coloring with crayons.

☾ It's a miracle how he was able to find your quarters in this massive establishment.

☾ The first time it happened you saw a little purple paper cat with a tiny moon charm on it's chest. Hmm, you wonder who this came from.

☾ The next time you saw Catnap you didn't forget to give him a head scritch and a cheery "Thank you!"

☾ Catnap then on would find ways to sneak handcrafted toys into your office.

☾ Congrats, you're now his favorite person in the whole world!!! Till this day the little paper cat still stands on your desk.

☾ Catnap would always draw you every time there were arts and crafts activities in the playcare.

☾ Catnap doesn't know how Craftycorn works her magic with those hooves of hers, but the least he could do is draw a messy stickman of you. And what do you know, you adored his drawing! And now it's hung on a little frame in your room!

☾ Catnap, after you'd visit him around working hours his mood would noticeably get more lively... So lively in fact that he dashes all over the room like those house cats getting the zoomies. Dogday's in awe at how fast his sleepy buddy was. Hey, if the kids are having fun then he guesses it's fine!

☾ Despite Catnap's distorted voice box you never really minded how brief his answers were.

"You want to eat?" you chuckled. Lowering the box you were carrying to meet his gaze.

"No." he spoke, staring at you with his dotted white pupils.

"Uhm... Need something from me?" you asked curiously. You wondered what he wanted.

"...No..." He spoke again.

"You're just here to bug me, are you?" you huffed, a small smile etched on your face as you stared up the purple cat.

"..." His long tail twirled deviously.

You raise your brow at him with your arms crossed over your chest.

"Yes."

☾ The other smiling critters seem to like this side of the purple cat too! But what they don't enjoy is how loud his purring gets whenever he naps.

☾ Catnap likes to laze in your office at night. He often curls himself around your desk chair as you work. His soft purple fur a great insulator against the cold room.

☾ Catnap tends to be more active at night, hence the reason he's always scratching your bedpost. On some occasions, he'd even stretch like a cat.

☾ You made sure that after you'd finished all your paperwork you would snuggle up with him on the floor since he was a tad too big for the bed Play Co. provided for you.

☾ He hoped things would never change.

Ik ik its boring but I've been wanting a bit of sweet stuff yknow

This the thing Catnap made for u btw :>

Peper kat!!!!!!!

#poppy playtime catnap #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime fanart #poppy playtime #catnap #poppy playtime headcanon #poppy playtime smiling critters

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acesofspadess · 9 months

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Just The Beginning

Worth The Risk Master Post

During the day you and the boys got around to a load of crap. You were running around the small room and playing games on your new phone and each other's laptops. You were currently sitting with Niall and Harry on your bunk playing Super Mario. You were squished between them as they watched you play your turn. The three of you were definitely the closest to each other. It was all mutual how you got along. Niall and Harry were just as close with each other as you were with each of them.

“How do you manage to win everytime?” Niall groaned as Harry added another tally to the winners board under your name. “I'm just better than you guys.” you shrugged jokingly and they both attacked you by tickling you until you all laying on the floor laughing.

“Oi!” Liam you thought. “We’ve got to be ready soon to get to the arena and your messing around. Does anyone know where Louis is?” He questioned walking back out of the shared room. You, Niall, and Harry all looked at each other before breaking out into laughter. “I guess LIam does have a point though.” you admitted getting up and checking your phone for the time.

“Oh yeah, we have move quickly!” you panicked sending the other two into a frenzy as well.

~~~~~~~

“Let's welcome out the Judges and the contestants.” Everyone cheered as the contestants and their judges came out. You were holding hands with Harry as you stood waiting for the results.

“Okay, it’s time for the final results.” Dermot really had a way of laying it on thick and it was sending your anxiety through the roof. “So, two acts will be leaving the competition tonight heres how its going to work. I'm now going to reveal which 13 acts are safe and the act with the lowest public voting will then leave the competition immediately, and the 2 remaining acts will compete in the final showdown. Goodluck.”

“In no particular order these are the acts that we will see next week…”

8 acts had already made it through and the band's name still hadn't been called. “The 9th act through…”

Time seemed to stop when the bands name wasn’t called. It seemed the air was stolen from the whole group, and it continued to be drawn out when the 10th act was called, and the 11th.

The world must have sensed that you were all struggling to breathe and gave you the freshest air when your name was called.

“The twelfth act through… One Direction.”

None of you had control of your bodies as you jumped around and hugged each other and Simon. You waved to some people still on stage shakily as you walked off with the boys jumping around you and when you were all backstage you all screamed and jumped around even more. “I was so scared.” you heard Liam say and you hugged tightly to which he hugged you back. “Christ, and that's just the beginning.” You muttered making everyone laugh.

~~~~~~

“Hello everyone! This is Video Diary Week 2.” Harry spoke to the camera propped up at the end of the stairs. You were sat between him and Niall and resting your head against Harrys shoulder.

“We loved it. It was incredible as Autumn would say.” Zayn teased using the messy bun ontop of your head to move your head around. “And I think Liam wanted to say thank you to the fans.” Zayn passed on to Liam. “Yes. I just wanted to say thank you so so much-” everyone started messing with him as no one could take anything seriously. “Stop it!” he laughed trying to put his hair back in place. “Thank you everybody that voted for one direction.” he screamed through Nialls attacks on his hair.

“We’re really excited to just be here and make it another week. Its gonna be a very big performance next and i hope you all ike it and vote for us again so.” You spoke softly as you were very sleepy.

“So last week we got some questions, so heres one from ‘eloise’. She wants to know which roles people play in the band.” Louis announced before turning to Liam. “Liam is the smart one. Harry is the flirt. Autumn is the sweet one. Zayn is vain. Niall is the funny one.” he finished and you looked at him funnily.

“And Louis is the leader.” Harry pitched in. To which Louis agreed. “Im not all that sweet,” you protested. “I can be scary.” you tried for yourself which only opened a door for the boys.

“As scary as a bunny.” Louis commented first making the boys laugh and join in. “As scary as teddy bear.” Harry added on and you looked at him with fake hurt. “Or a ladybug.” Zayn pitched in from behind you squeezing your bun again. “Youre like a flower Auty.” Niall had the most sereness to his addition. “Yeah you remind me of cute little bow.” Liam added onto to niall and you just sat in the middle of them all nodding your head softly. “Honestly those were cute so ill take it.” you shrugged and leaned Niall. “See bug, not scary at all.” Zayn tapped you softly. “I have a feeling those nicknames are gonna catch on.” you muttered to Niall and he agreed as Liam continued questions. The question was for the boys as they went around answering what they liked in girl… and of course louis said something stupid…carrots?

“... wants to know what everyone's favourite song is?” Niall read the question, “well since Saturday mine is Viva La Vida.” Niall shared looking up to Zayn. “My favourite song has definitely got to be ‘Barbie Girl.” You giggled a bit and Zayn tickled your neck in response. “Uh, well my favourite is ‘Free Falling’ by John Mayor.” Harry went next and you all looked at Liam who looked at you. “Whats your favourite song then Bow?” he chuckled as he used the recent nickname. “Mine would be ‘Womanizer’ Britney Spears.” You looked back to Liam and when he said he couldnt think of one you all teased him about it.

“Just think of something Liam.” You told him andhe just stuttered out different excuses while Louis just skipped him. “Okay well Liam clearly doesnt have one, but mine however is ‘Who let the dogs out.” You shook your head at him again this time taking the extra step to ruffle his hair.

“We’re One Direction! See you all next week.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Worth The Risk Masterpost

taglist:

@youcan-nolonger-run @ravenclawdirectioner

@luxiorchive @maeflowers653 @purple9950 @forkmeniall @nathalielovesonedirection

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oleander-nin · 2 months

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I lied, I’m back (hurricane, flash flood, and tornado combo is unreasonable (¬`‸´¬)) but yeah totally didn’t expect you to respond to all of the headcanons there was a lot lol.

About what sleepy was saying, first of all stealing your yandere Mikey interpretation. Secondly man I loooove associating songs with stuff, I’ve got tons of oc playlists. Sadly I only have like two songs with the obsessive love type thing ‘Meant to be yours’ from heathers and ‘Rule #34’ by fish in a birdcage (It’s not as weird as it sounds the name is a result of their songs all being rule insert number (Ｔ▽Ｔ)) But meant to be yours is honestly a tad basic for this and while I love the other song, while not as suggestive as the title may imply it is still a tad, and that makes it feel kinda weird to use in this context. I’m actually not sure I have a point here I’m sorta talking just to talk actually.

In order to actually contribute something uhhhhh song links

waow if you’re a theater kid you’ve probably heard this, good song

https://open.spotify.com/track/6YYeBYEpkiR84eCDNPBDoF?si=5oFKhaP4RBmxizmfR0t9JQ

I don’t know how to pitch this guy’s music other then like sorta similar to will wood, not really? Also good song, never hire me to advertise I have no idea how to pitch this or if it even aligns with any one reading this’s music taste

https://open.spotify.com/track/37BZW7WkMBkWyIVs5OMVJt?si=vPE9G31sThWwuWZdeIhrCQ

Sorry for kinda filling your inbox thingy with I don’t really know what to call it but next ask will be actually good promise (side note if I die you can eat my corpse, cake tastes good, boat doesn’t, its for science)

-🍰

Welcome back, but are you okay? I'm sorry your trip got ruined, please stay safe😭

"Sadly I only have like two songs with the obsessive love type thing" - Yeah, they can be a bit harder to find. At least for me since I can be a bit picky with my music. And there's also the fact I can't always relate songs to things? Like, I have one singular playlist with 605 songs(not a lot ik but still) and that's my only playlist. But I do know for a fact there are some more obsessive songs in there and I will do my best to try and list them once I find them💪

I've heard 'Meant To Be Yours' before(love the song tbh), but I've never heard Rule #34 before! I'm just now listening to it and it's really good. Thank you for the song fndjanvkda.

"In order to actually contribute something uhhhhh song links" - ah, uh, small problem. I don't have spotify dnkjavnjka. I was able to search the songs up on youtube though so it's all good👍

Thank you for the songs! Rule #34 is going into the list thankiessss

"Sorry for kinda filling your inbox thingy with I don’t really know what to call it but next ask will be actually good promise" - It's all good! I don't mind at all. I just like being talked to nfjdnavda

"side note if I die you can eat my corpse, cake tastes good, boat doesn’t, its for science" - the crunch of the wood will be a great addition to the cake wdym

Anyway, hope you have a great day SS Cake. I'm sorry you had all that happen in such a short time, that's awful. Please stay safe and well!

#asks <3 #🍰 anon

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freyito · 4 months

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I’m so sorry if this is rude, but do you ever plan to update your queue post? I think some of the stuff on it might be stuff you’ve posted, but I’m not sure

ik u said to ignore this anon but ACTUALLY im gonna use this to my advantage. this isn't me like yelling at you lol just so you know. just to reiterate a couple things

the first is i am missing a couple asks on my queue post and i do essentially queue everything the minute i see i got an ask or i get an idea. normally i delete them off my queue or on my pinned post when i finish them (unless they were never on there which kinda happens a lot ((fics and ideas that just. hit me and dont let go)), but i do post a lot late at night and normally when that happens i update my queue and my masterlist the next day over cause i am too sleepy!!!!!

second is since im getting a lot more followers (like a lot more than i thought id get for such self indulgent pieces lol and even as a m! writer in general tbh) i want everyone to know what i said above!!!! BUT ALSO i dont rlly have a set schedule and i try and write when i can. i did JUST get a job so im still kinda learning to balance my writing and stuff like that since they haven't really given me a consistent schedule. so lowkey half the time i'll be like "new fic tomorrow". and then there is NOT a new fic that day. sometimes i just get rlly excited to post a fic and then i space out for a while, that happens a lot when youve got mad adhd and like sooo many things you can do and want to do!! that you just . do nothing.

i also tend to be overambitious (those who have read my fics since i first posted know lol and also my moots) so i'll like load up my queue with all these ideas and then a month later i'll delete some cause i like. totally forgot.

i also have had a couple of gripes with asks i get... which i hope i dont sound rude T_T. LIGHTNING ROUND THO!!!

i've had a couple of anons (before AND now) drop essentially the same ask (same anons), and i know i don't outright say which ask is which cause i try my best to give fics genuine titles, but just know i dont rlly delete asks !!!!!! unless they are against the rules

ON THAT NOTE!!! i urge everyone to pleaaaase read my rules waghhh!!!! i've gotten a lotta asks about a pregnant reader (specifically!!!!). i'm not here to yuck anyones yum at all but i myself am uncomfy with writing pregnancy (simply cause its a huge fear of mine lol). genuinely that is like the ONLY rule people gloss over (granted i need to update my rules uber soon). that doesn't mean i wont write stuff where reader and character adopt kids or whatever, just no pregnancy nothing like that

i've also had anons/people in my inbox ask "when will x fic come out" or ""check up"" on fics. please know that i am working on everything on my own time!!!! i try my very best to drop fics in order of my queue and i do prioritize requests!!!! but there are days where suddenly i am not feeling an ask or a fic i'm writing so to avoid burn out and fatigue and just overall producing a soulless piece i work on a different piece.

i'm also currently switching from headcanons & drabbles to mainly oneshots, cause i've just had a lot more fun writing bigger and proper pieces!!! that doesn't mean i won't write hcs/drabbles when i see fit ofc, but due to this lowkey like 80% of my asks went from "haha silly little drabble" to full on oneshots (and some even full on fics!). so my writing and ""production"" time has been significantly increased.

also another thing of note: over time i've kinda just slowed down if not halted completely on writing fics for fem readers... the Robin one will most likely be my last x Fem! reader simply cause it feels odd for me to write fem reader all of a sudden. mainly cause i am . a boy lol and i did start this account to write for male readers (cause especially after coming out several years ago it was just so hard to find x male readers yk??). I won't be deleting x fem reader requests cause lowkey they are all kinda bangersss so most of the time I will default to gn reader or switch to male reader as i see fit..

also lowkey circling back to the queue and masterlist in general, all my masterlists have a date at the very bottom for when i updated them o7

That was a LOT I AM SO SORRY.... but lowkey had to get a couple things out there T_T i think it's kinda cause i just switched up on mk and went into hsr so fast so my asks def have a different vibe in general lol...

#freyposting

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socheckitout-mikey · 3 years

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could you do hc for dallas going to sleep on the curtis couch only to find the reader there instead? (ik its kina odd ,heh)

okay istg i did one of these on my old blog but in reverse lol, but i can't find it? anyways, sorry this took me ages to write. i decided to make it a small little written piece, but it ended up being almost 5k words? i hope you enjoy what i've come up with tho! (': <333 - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Title: Sleepy Encounters

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Reader

Summary: Buck Merril's place is fully booked one winter night, leaving Dallas with two options: The back of the T-Bird's impeccably hard seat, or the safe haven of the Curtis couch. One seems vastly more comfortable than the other, and in his sleepy state he encounters something unexpected... and it's definitely not Steve Randle.

Word Count: 4,941

Warnings: swearing, fighting, bickering, mentions of injury/violence, mentions of a switchblade used on a car, mentions of dally being homeless, dally being a bit of a dick, rough housing with no intent to harm bc the reader was sleepy and didn't know their own strength lmaoo. if i've missed anything out then lemme know!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

January brought it's iciest blues upon winter's breath, touching Tulsa, Oklahoma with its thickest blanket of snow in quite some time. New Year's Eve had come and went on the dying leaves of mistletoe and cheap festive booze. Although the festivities were still booming days later for Buck Merrill at his cheap looking home, Dallas Winston - tipsy from his drinks and a great night partying with his buddy Tim Shepard, he soon came to the realisation that his usual room he'd called his home for the past couple of months had been awarded to a drunken couple about to defile his bed and probably what little personal belongings he still had up in that space.

There was a vivid stroke of disbelief that struck Dally callously in the gut upon hearing the sudden news. It almost made him laugh out loud vehemently as he propped himself up on his elbows against the kitchen table.

"You gotta be shitting me." Dal's plump lips spread out into a dangerous grin prompted by booze and a short fuse.

He shook his head, turning it to the left to find Tim sneering at him with his latest female fascination sitting friskily on his lap.

Buck gulped thickly, intoxicated himself, but all too aware of the insatiably violent repercussions that often ensued when Dallas Winston didn't get his way. Sure they were buddies, but Buck never enjoyed being bullied. It always bugged the older male that he could be bullied into things despite his tough exterior. Dally was his rodeo partner and the pair had made an unspoken promise about Dally staying with him for a while.

The beanstalk of a cowboy cleared his throat uncomfortably, standing up straight as though he was calculating the distance between himself and Dally’s lengthy striking distance.

“M’sorry man,” Buck shrugged with what seemed like indifference. His voice faltered slightly, to which Dally could manage to make out over the cheap, booming music. “I got offered a better deal for it!"

'A better deal?' Dallas pondered to himself, his bushy eyebrows raising up, crinkling his youthful forehead in a way that reminded Tim of an empty chip bag.

This had to be a joke. All of his shit from his pop's place was up there! Buck knew he despised it when someone went digging through his stuff, let alone slept on his mattress that wasn't his girlfriend!

There’d always been this rule between them that had sprouted since day one of Dallas periodically staying there: What became Dally’s, stayed Dally’s. Buck knew this like it was the Eleventh Commandment or something!

Buck had given him a place to crash pretty much every night, which meant that Dallas kept away the rowdy people Buck was too scared stiff to show the door to during parties. Not to mention he promised to work his ass off the next time he rode bull so Buck would get all of the betting dough. It was all free of charge on both ends, so why was his rodeo partner backing out now? He knew better than this.

“A better deal?” Dally snorted, fiddling with the empty brown glass beer bottle in front of him on the coffee table. It gleamed in the fluorescent light that twitched on and off rapidly behind Buck. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

Even to Dally himself, he appeared menacing in his small, warped reflection in the deep chocolate glass. His eyebrows were pinched together all funny and he couldn’t even look up at his buddy that he wanted nothing more than to sock straight in the face. Maybe knocking a few more teeth loose would help Buck remember who he was screwing over.

“They gave him seventy bucks!” Tim chimed in loudly like he was a pirate’s parrot. Man was he wasted if he was tattling on the owner of this house.

Buck shot him a look with his beady eyes, his face hot under the low lights, and he cursed at the snitch known as Tim Shepard. A cussing out was cuing up.

“Seventy bucks?!” Dally squawked out, almost sounding like he was choking. He smoothed a hand down his chin, because who the hell had that kind of cash in a dump like this unless they stole or gambled it?

Buck shrugged his shoulders, leaning up against the doorframe adjacent to Dally. He looked cool, but his eyes gave way to an uneasiness he’d hoped to avoid. He wasn’t about to give up his own bed for the rascal who wasn’t paying him zilch to bum around his place and offer up very little in return.

“Times are hard right now.” His excuse was poor, even Tim could see right through it.

A deal was a deal and he’d made one with Dally, whether silent or not. You stuck to your word when it came to the notoriously difficult seventeen year old, otherwise there was hell to pay.

Hitting hard times and all that was nonsense! This place was always bustling, because it was filled with wild people who did wild things: and when wild people did wild things, there was always this influx of money and other means of value that came along with it - despite it’s corrupt origins.

"Hard times my ass." The younger one seethed out with bitter acrimony, leaning his body forward against the wooden table. “We had a deal.” He continued to counter.

“What deal?” Buck raised his eyebrows like it was the first time he’d ever heard of this made up agreement.

Dally let out a cold laugh, settling back into the kitchen chair around Buck’s dining table. There’d been a poker game going on an hour ago that Dally had fixed to win in his favour. He’d made double of seventy bucks, but wasn’t about to spend a single cent of it here.

“You pullin’ my leg or somethin’, man?” Dally let out a huff of irritation, for once willing to take things in good humour.

But all there was was this uneasy standoff between the two men: Buck was silent, his eyes were the only thing giving away his guiltiness. Dally’s clenched fists sat on top of the table and shook violently. His knuckles were this creamy bone white.

“If I come back tomorrow and my shit’s been taken, I swear to God you’ll be on a stretcher to the hospital.” He rasped out loudly, jabbing his finger onto the countertop with promise.

“You ain’t gonna do squat.” Buck challenged.

Oh, he should have kept that bucked toothless mouth shut!

It wasn’t long until Dallas had exited Buck’s home with a belligerent push of the front screen door. The thing squealed and groaned with the violent movement until it banged against the wooden planks of the wall behind it and slammed back shut behind him. A string of hostile cusses flew from Dally’s mouth, threats flying along with them at breakneck speed and over his right shoulder. Buck lay on the ground inside, clutching his fresh black eye and a busted nose. That was the last time Dallas would afford to get fucked over by him.

There was a formidable and sour expression plastered to his handsome face that made Dallas appear several years older than his actual age. Like a domino effect, people outside chatting stopped before hurriedly looking the other way - even if they were on the friendlier side of his acquaintance -. Everybody that had a brain knew not to even look at Dally when he was in a foul mood like this.

As he stepped off the front porch, he was met with snow fluttering down in a breath-taking delicate fashion from the starless dark sky. It dusted onto the shoulders of his notorious brown leather jacket with the fortunate sheepskin lining. Although the cold suddenly bit on his nose, ears and appendages, he was toasty warm with rampant rage that needed some sort of outburst to thwart it. He turned the corner of the home sharply where there were less people and in his line of sight was his only refuge for the night. Buck’s T-Bird, which was blanketed with an inch of snow by now, looked about the only warm place he could bunk for the night since his pop’s kicked him out once again.

Sleeping in the frigid T-Bird with just the clothes on his back and a hope not to freeze to death seemed plausible. He’d slept in much worse places back in New York City that made the car seem like a five star hotel. Yet in his bitterness, Dallas had a distinct mental image of Tim Shepard rapping on the window the following afternoon in his hungover stupor, suddenly brightened up to poke fun at how his buddy who’s mirror the image was of a kicked puppy, settling for being Buck’s bitch because he had nowhere else to go.

Dallas gritted his teeth, his breath coming out in laboured, frustrated smoky plumes whilst he pocketed his hands in his back pockets, his fist instinctively curled around his pretty switchblade. A gnarly idea slashed an opening into his twisted mind: Buck would have no T-Bird, and the beauty of it was that hopefully Buck was too hammered to remember where the black eye and broken nose had come from in the morning. If Tim wanted to snitch then, then he’d get what was coming for him.

“Hope that seventy bucks was worth it…” Dally muttered smartly to himself, making good work of his switchblade.

With a fraction of his anger righted somehow, Dally turned out of the drive on foot and began the long, logical walk towards the Curtis Brother’s house. There lay his only warm safe haven from the cold in the form of a couch he hoped was not occupied by his his pal Steve Randle. Although Dallas had taken the floor of the living room on many occasions, his foul mood was an indication that if Steve or anyone else was situated on that couch, they’d be taking the floor. Otherwise they’d be met with a deadly shove landing them there. He’d fight for that spot, especially since he’d been virtually homeless once again through the fault of his deadbeat father.

The lengthy walk was spent on Dallas stewing over the audacity Buck had in wronging him, despite the fact he logically was aware that he’d not been bringing any real income into the place he had been bumming around at. Dally didn’t care, nobody wronged him like that and it bothered him something awful that his rodeo partner had turned his back on him in his time of need.

After all, Dally had been real smart about who he’d told his housing situation to. His gang knew and so did Buck; all sworn to secrecy to keep it hidden from his girlfriend who would have made a fuss about the entire ordeal. He needed a place to stay, not someone who would worry about the minute details on a consistent basis then bug him nonstop about said details. He didn’t need to be fretted over, because he was fine! He always made ends meet somehow, whether that came from stealing, lying or cheating: Dallas Winston could rely on himself solely - even if he didn’t like to admit that he needed other people such as Buck and the gang in between time to get by.

Realistically Dally knew that bringing (y/n) into this wouldn’t have pleaded his case for the better: He was accustomed to couch surfing since a young age back in New York, so this was his life and her babying and concern would have only grated on his nerves since he wasn’t used to it. It wasn’t like she could have convinced her parents to offer up their living room couch to him since his extensive criminal record and daunting reputation left him in an unfavourable light regarding her parents. Sure there was the option of having snuck into (y/n)’s room more often, but too many times in a row harboured questions that Dally was too guarded to ever answer truthfully to anyone, let alone to her.

Perhaps he was just too embarrassed to, because a part of him thought that she deserved better than a bum like him: He kept getting thrown back into the cooler like it was his primary home, which never made (y/n) happy at all. Yet she knew there was no changing him, but he always caught that look of disappointment in her eyes when he’d be sent away for however long this time.

Dallas Winston was nothing but a hoodlum, the worst of the worst. He’d done so many unspeakable things for crying out loud! How had he bagged not only such a good looker, but also someone relatively good? Good was meant in the sense that sure she’d break the rules, maybe some more minor laws if she wouldn’t get caught, but overall, she wasn’t cut from the same stretch of cloth as Dallas had been from birth: Goodness had rotted from the inside out when he was just ten years old, freshly shipped off to juvenile detention for the first time.

He was stuck this way for good, because people couldn’t change. The world wouldn’t change.

His feet crunched through the snow of the vacant lot when he came hurtling into the present moment. He quivered from the cold - even his toes were numb from walking so long in it -. A habitual sniffle came from him just as his eyes veered off to the left to find that old beaten up car seat completely vacant and no fresh ruined remnants of a fire within its wake. Johnny’s absence here was a godsend to Dallas who was happy to discover his friend had some sort of smarts in his noggin. That was one less thing he had to worry about, even if it meant that Johnny was holed up in his parents place. A relatively warmer place away from the elements was better than the straight up snow being your blanket.

He continued on his lonesome trek towards his safe haven of warmth.

Dallas felt some relief wash over him as he slowly took one step up on the porch at a time. He got to the mat outside of the screen door and stomped his feet good and hard, because Darry would no doubt bitch about the soggy carpet in the morning. His numbed fingers curled around the handle, softly yanking it open. He kicked the other door open, slightly left ajar for some unfathomable reason and Dally was overcome with the sweet nectar that was a warm home. It felt scalding on his frozen skin that had gone slightly damp on his face from his shaggy bangs dripping melted snowflakes onto his reddened skin. He let out a sigh, shoving them back before kicking off his smelly boots by the door.

His actions were gentle as he hung up his jacket, careful not to make much noise so he didn't wake the occupants of the home up. The only other permeating in the house was the TV that blew static since the station it was on had come to it’s nightly end. He found that odd and it should have been a dead giveaway that someone else was occupying the couch. Yet in his sleepy state, too exhausted and cold to feel any indignance for the extra work, he journeyed over to the device with a creek of the floorboards underneath his weight to switch it off.

The room and himself plummeted into darkness and without thinking, he backed up towards the couch with the intention to flop backwards on it and hit the hay.

Dallas’s sturdy back came into contact with a hard object curled in on itself. It hurt like hell, kicking the wind straight out of his lungs whilst his head smacked violently against the arm of the couch. He groaned at the same time he heard a sickly moan underneath him. However his mind, plagued with the desire to sleep, did not register what or who was underneath him.

There came a struggle, something stirring and buried under his body weight, before a desperate, “Can’t breathe!” twinkled into his ears in a familiar twang and pitch.

“What the hell?” He grunted out, tired of the sharp elbow digging in the back of his ribs. He leaned his arm upon the back of the couch and hoisted his body weight up so his fingers stretched out into the dark and flicked on the lamp.

Light pooled outwards, stinging his eyes and he hissed, blinking profusely before getting a look at exactly who was under him, because it certainly was not Steve.

There, half curled up, bestowing both a grouchy and painful expression was his girlfriend. (y/n) looked up at him, digging herself deeper into the comfortable couch and making good use of Dallas’s looming shadow to shield her from the light. Her eyes adjusted first, half lidded, but she didn’t say anything to him.

‘Is this a dream?’ She inquired quietly in her mind, studying Dally’s irritated features. For a moment she had forgotten her own bedless predicament and wondered why he was half hovering over her in an odd twisted fashion like he was Spiderman.

Dallas blinked a few more times, stunned to find his girlfriend bumming on Darry’s couch at this hour. Had her home been set on fire or something? Because this sort of shtick just didn’t happen in the real world.

Their silence loomed for a few short minutes before Dallas twisted round fully and knelt down by her feet. He wasn’t entirely smooth about the motion, his left hand flying out instinctively onto the armrest above her head to prevent himself from falling on top of (y/n) and really doing any intentional damage. The dog tags around his neck flung out from the confines of his black beat up t-shirt and swung like a pendulum between them, scuffing her cheek a few times. Irritation consumed her and her right hand flew up to catch it and shoot daggers up at Dallas.

“What the hell are ya doin’ here? Ain’t you meant to be at home sleepin’?” He spoke a little louder than he intended to. After all, he’d been expecting smartass Steve.

“Sleepin’! What does it look like I’m doin’?” She hissed out like a cobra, her eyebrows knitted together in a way that spelled she wasn’t happy with him.

“No dumbass,” Dally began, much quieter this time, “I meant-”

“I know what you meant-” She hissed once more, fingers still curled around his dog tags, but her eyes refused to lock on his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.

He was riddled with impatience, a new thing to grow angry about. All he wanted to do was get a few hours of shut eye and be on his merry way by noon. But something about the way (y/n) wasn’t making room for him on the couch grated him like he was a measly piece of cheddar cheese. He could not be bothered with being dealt another unjust hand tonight

His left hand slid down the armrest beside her hair and he did his best to gently shove her deeper into the back of the couch with a, “Move over!” tumbling from his plump lips that usually had a smoke between them.

“I can’t!” She challenged back, shoving up against his shoulder in retaliation much stronger than she’d meant so.

The sharp movement caused the chain around his neck to snap off. He veered off to the left and he shot off over her legs and the side of the couch. He thumped into the coffee table just as his left forearm steadied himself. He grunted out in more than frustration, his eyes falling on his favourite piece of jewellery dangling in her hands like it was a betrayal.

“I was here first!” (y/n) declared logically, suddenly backed up by all the courage in the world that caused her to turn her back on Dallas. In retaliation, she stuck her butt out underneath the blanket thrown over her in a haphazard fashion to prohibit her boyfriend from joining her on the couch.

If he’d asked more politely then maybe she would have considered his abnormal request at such an ungodly hour.

Dallas he didn’t think, his fingers moved of their own venomous accord and the tips pinched her right butt cheek curtly. It caused her to jostle, her knee slamming into the back of the couch and they were lucky her yelp had been muffled by the thick blanket Sodapop had no doubt thrown onto her at some point during the night. She whipped around to face him like a bat racing out of hell - the blanket getting caught around her feet. Her face was swarmed with all the signs of rage and it made him laugh out loud while he faced her.

“Take the floor. You’re meant to be a gentleman.” She pointed out, totally knowing it was futile because Dallas Winston was never a gentleman.

“Take the floor?!” He forgot his little triumph in getting her to turn around and became irritated. “What? You think I’d get a bad back for you? In your dreams, babe! The shivers are dead!” He pointed at her childishly.

“The shivers?” She muttered to herself perplexed as she stared at her boyfriend. What was that meant to indicate?

It sounded made up. Then realisation began to dawn across her breath-taking features and she let out a swift, quiet laugh. It sounded abnormal, all smug and out of character for her.

“You think I’m being funny?” He snapped at her.

“Don’t you mean chivalry?” She sneered triumphantly, a mirror image of how Dally looked like every time he teased her for saying something stupid.

“That’s what I said! Are you calling me dumb?” He inquired seriously, parking his butt on the coffee table because his knees were aching from kneeling down.

“I didn’t have to, you did it all on your own.” She pointed out.

It was true, he had.

A blush scalded his cheeks as though he’d been branded by a red hot poker. He was embarrassed, but it wasn’t like words and shit were his forte. Everybody knew that! So he went to the next best line of defence: Attempting to roast her.

“You've been hanging out with Pony again or something? You sound like a walking talking dictionary.” He stated, flicking her forehead playfully. It sounded weak and he even knew it.

(y/n) rolled her eyes at him in such a fashion that if she’d rolled them any harder, they would have popped out of her head and landed in his lap. She didn’t hesitate to roll over once more, certain that Dallas would tire himself out once the, “You’re gonna wake up Darry.” left her lips in that nasally sing-song tone.

Was that supposed to be some terrifying threat that was meant to leave Dally shaking in his stinky socks? It made him snort because even Darry wouldn’t dare go up against him, because he was too wild. The oldest Curtis was smart, he wasn’t going to risk getting into anything heated with Dally. In his eyes he ran the show, but one of Dally’s daunting dark looks (however fake) that spelled out he was in a bad mood would result in Darry steering clear of him; though he did have to admit that in a sleep driven stupor, Darry wouldn’t have as much sense as his waking self typically did.

That didn’t matter to Dallas. He’d take him on either way, just like he did anyone else.

“Yeah?” Dallas leaned closer, his cold lips pressed against her ear, making the volume of his voice test her eardrums. He’d play into her little game. “S’that meant to be a threat?” She could hear the smile in his tone.

“Maybe if I yell loud enough he’ll kick you off the couch for me. Now move!” He hissed himself, pressing his frigid hands against the back of her neck.

A striking yelp came out of her throat, startling even Dallas as he sat back. She sat up, eyes ablaze with anger and the pair sat there quietly, listening to the way Darry’s snoring broke up. He twisted in bed for a few short minutes before his snoring started up again and Dallas grinned at her evilly.

“Great going, dumbass! You could’ve gotten us kicked out!” She launched the couch cushion at him, her voice a shouting whisper.

Dallas effortlessly captured the cushion in his hand like it were any miscellaneous item someone had thrown his way. He was smug, biting his lip whilst all his anger washed away because he’d won this argument the dirty way. His long thick fingers squashed the feathery insides of the beaten up cushion between his hands. His dark eyes spelt mischief and (y/n) sighed out, admitting her defeat.

“Fine!” She huffed out, wrapping the blanket around herself as she got to her feet.

Dally rose from the coffee table and playfully flopped onto the couch, jutting the pillow behind his head to break the fall against the armrest. He laid there, his infamous shit eating grin stretching across the expenditure of his entire countenance. She hated how annoying her boyfriend could be, rolling her eyes and getting ready to retreat with the warm blanket to Darry’s armchair. She didn’t get far when Dallas encased her thighs in his right arm, tugging her down on top of him.

“Don’t be such a grump!” He teased her quietly, impishly smirking at her.

She responded by straddling him, tucking her head into his strong chest in defeat. Dally's hands yanked areas of the blanket so he could be covered up too.

"Blanket hog." He muttered under his breath before his lithe fingers reached up over his head and flicked the lamp's switch off.

Darkness came upon them, thin lines of silver moonlight streaking in through the blinds. Dally pretended they didn't exist, shuffling about to gain the most comfortable position. He felt his shaggy bangs sticking to his forehead, almost dried and laughed to himself a little over the encounter he'd had with (y/n). If anyone had pushed him like that, they'd be kissing the dirt under the house right now, but he had a soft spot for her: Besides, he didn't get a kick out of doing things like that to women.

"What's so funny?" (y/n) asked suddenly, shivering on top of him and feeling his cool skin through their thin, worn out clothes.

"Nothin'." He mumbled in the darkness, eyes shut.

"You're cold." She complained, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock." He laughed into her hair, blowing air into her face just to be a nuisance, but there was a gentleness to his actions.

"I hate you."

"No you don't, sweetheart." He countered with a smile on his lips.

He was correct, she didn't hate him: No matter how annoying or awful he could be, (y/n) loved Dally and Dally loved her too. Sure they hadn't said it yet, but even the gang could tell it too. Their little scuffle, his broken dog tags that she still held in her fist and his bruised ego from their unintentional rough housing was something to chortle about now and in the months to come.

Dally forgave her, but he wasn't so certain that she had forgiven him for waking her up in such a painful way. It hadn't been his fault, he'd just assumed it was Steve or nobody. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought his cutesy girlfriend would be bumming on a greasers couch.

"What're you doin' here anyway?" Dally's voice was hushed in the darkness, his big fingers smoothing up and down her back in a relaxing fashion.

(y/n) was silent, deliberating whether she should tell him what had happened or not. For a moment, Dally thought she'd already KO'd, but then she sucked in a deep breath,

"I got kicked out because I embarrassed my dad in front of the neighbours so Darry had to come pick me up." She rushed it out in one breath.

It sounded unrealistic and Dally clicked his tongue in a false disappointed fashion, his eyebrows raised in the dark, "You streak the neighbours or somethin'?" He teased her ruthlessly.

"No!" She growled, offended and embarrassed. He could just imagine the glowing embarrassment rife in her expression.

"Then what'd you do, goody two shoes?"

"I drank too much and puked on the neighbours front porch..." She muttered quietly.

Dallas would have been a real bastard and gotten her to repeat it, but the first time she said it was hilarious enough. He erupted into a fit of laughter so loud, he shook underneath her.

"Soda! You better quit gigglin' like a school girl or so help me God-" Darry's booming voice echoed in the house.

"Huh?" Soda groaned, voice muffled from his face being squashed in his pillow.

"Shut up!" (y/n) giggled quietly, slapping her hand over Dally's mouth. "You're gonna get us both killed!" She hissed, her smile pressed into his collarbone.

Dally attempted to stifle himself, burying his face into (y/n)'s hair just as Darry sat up in bed and muttered nonsense to himself like, "I got work in the morning!"

"What you talkin' about? I got work in the mornin' too!" Soda sassed back from across the hallway.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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wheelsup · 3 years

Note

okay but can you imagine spencer washing your hair for you?

like, i never (ever) let anyone (at all) touch my hair, but i feel like he'd be really gentle about it, and there is just something so soft and tender to me about the idea of washing someone's hair for them 🥺

that’s my dream <3 ik you didnt specifically ask for a blurb but i think about this very often. i wrote two versions of this, but this one (with two bickering best friends who are v much in love) won my heart.

wc: 1.6k contains: friends (to crushes, maybe ;) ), injured reader. gn!reader

“Spence, I promise you that I can do it by myself,” you huffed, attempting to yank off your tank top as you walked toward the hotel bathroom, using only one arm while trying to keep the other as still as possible.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you didn’t sound like you were going to cry,” he snickered, following hot on your trail as you tried to escape his hovering.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Oh really? Lift your arm up, then.” He leaned his hip against the marble counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for you to do it. One obnoxiously smug eyebrow arched on his forehead.

Sometime during the case, you’d gotten into a brief tousle with a suspect, who just had to run away when approached. If Morgan had been there, you wouldn’t have even batted a lash, but he wasn’t. So not only had you detained him by yourself, you also wound up with a minor pulled muscle in your shoulder.

You shot him a sarcastic smile, toothless and irritated, and raised your right arm into the air. He let out an airy scoff.

“Other one, smart ass.”

Your arm dropped down to your side, your smile falling with it as you turned sharply towards the shower.

“Look, I’m disgusting right now. So either I suck it up and shower, or you’re going to smell me until the day we solve this case.”

Spencer’s nose crinkled at the gross truth. He wasn’t ungentlemanly enough to tell you, but sharing a bed with a coworker was quite a quick way to discover if they were in need of a shower or not. Your shoulder might be out of service, but both of you could agree that hygiene was a bigger priority.

“You can’t even move. Just… just let me help you.”

You snorted. “Nice try, Reid. I’m not letting you shower with me.”

He rolled his eyes at your use of his last name. You only called him that when you were annoyed with him. He pushed off the counter and turned to the wall, hitting the light switch and earning a shriek from you as the room suddenly went dark.

“I won’t look,” he shrugged, amusing no one but himself.

“You’re a clown, you know that?” you muttered under your breath, drawing back the shower curtain and fumbling around, searching for the knobs in pitch black. “Absolutely fucking theatrical.”

You found them moments later and ran the water, testing the temperature on the back of your hand. By the time it went from cold to warm, you noticed that he still hadn’t moved. From the sliver of light peeking under the door, you could make out just his silhouette in the corner, perched on the vanity.

He was being stubborn about this. That, and the comforting fact that you couldn’t see a single thing –– thankfully, not even his face –– wore you down.

“Close your eyes,” you murmured.

“It’s already pitch black in here ––”

“Close your eyes, Reid.”

Sighing through his nose, he did just that. To make sure you knew it, and also maybe just to be annoying, he made a show of getting off the counter and turning himself around to face the wall. You peeled out of your clothes as quickly as you could. In the process, you caught the long shower curtain under the heel of your foot and, as you stumbled over it, accidentally dragged it along, sending the metal curtain hooks screeching as they slid along the bar.

The second you found your ground, you immediately shot daggers into the back of Spencer’s head, waiting for him to make a joke. As if he could feel them, he bit back his quip. Not without letting a barely contained cackle slip under his breath.

“Okay,” you warned, stepping into the shower. Grabbing the end of the shower curtain, you pulled it tightly over your body to cover yourself as you poked your chin out to talk to him. “I’m in.”

Spencer turned and approached the shower, eyes still shut with his hands out in front of him, feeling the walls for guidance. He was still mocking you for making him close his eyes. You raised your brows; he must’ve thought he was quite funny.

“You look like Velma when she loses her glasses.”

That knocked the funny bone right out of him. His hands dropped to his sides.

“Just get your hair wet and hand me the shampoo.”

You drew the curtain shut again as you dipped your head under the shower stream, coming back moments later with sopping wet hair and a little bottle of complimentary hotel shampoo.

He let you sit on the floor of the bathtub, just slightly removed from the spray of the water. Your back was to him, as he kneeled down on the tile floor, just outside of the bathtub so he didn’t have to get wet. You bent your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them.

Spencer first pushed up the sleeves of his sweater as far as he could before deciding to remove it altogether for the sake of protecting the wool against stray water. The cuffs of his work shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows as he got to work.

Taking a healthy quarter-sized amount of shampoo into his palm, he lathered it between his hands before running soapy fingers through your scalp. The pads of his fingertips softly dug in as he carefully massaged the shampoo in.

When he started working his fingers in patterns, putting pressure near your temples and increasing it as he dragged them up the curve of your scalp, you let your eyes close. He was getting rid of a headache you didn’t even realize you had.

The tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders eased a little, and it made him think about how much you probably needed this. One of his hands came down to massage the muscle between your neck and your good shoulder, knowing it was best to just let the hot water do its magic on the bad one.

When the shampoo had been sufficiently lathered, he stood up and detached the shower head, bringing it down to you so you didn’t have to move. You leaned your head back for him as he carefully rinsed the soap out.

You weren’t going to ask, but thank God Spencer told you to hand him the conditioner next. This, he slathered all over the ends of your hair, making sure all of it was sufficiently covered in conditioner before loosely twisting it into a low, makeshift pony for you.

“Mm. I was about to ask how you’re so good at haircare,” you chuckled lowly to yourself, in a half-sleepy voice with your forehead resting on your knees. Dangerously close to falling asleep. “Then I remembered what you used to look like.”

You had a lazy smile on your face just thinking about the days where Spencer’s hair used to be down to his shoulders. He looked so pretty like that (not that he didn’t look pretty now, too), you always wondered why he got rid of it.

“Remember when I got shot in the knee?” he hummed, returning to work your shoulder. He adorned a tiny smile of his own as he started to reminisce. “You came by my house at least once a week. Brought me meals, watched movies with me. Helped distract me from the pain. Even drove me to my physical therapy appointments.”

You mm-hmm’d that you remembered.

“You pretty much did everything shy of helping me bathe. Though, I feel like you would’ve helped with that, too, if I asked.”

You both laughed at that. You hadn’t really noticed the parallels of your situation, being injured and needing his help for once. He was happy to repay the favor.

“I’ll, uh. Let you wash your body yourself,” he said, coming out of his daydream for a moment. He rinsed his hands off and got up, patting down his wet hands on his trousers. With one nod from you to confirm that you’d be able to do it, he quickly exited the bathroom to give you privacy.

You emerged seventeen minutes later, clad in pajamas with towel-dried hair. Spencer was still awake as you crawled onto the bed beside him, more than ready for bed after that. He looked to the side to ask you how the rest of your shower was, and before he could get it out, you shuffled up next to him, winding one arm around his and resting your head on his chest.

“I take it you had a good shower?” he laughed. This was one of his “I told you so” moments, and for once, you didn’t mind it.

“Mhm,” you smiled, chuckling behind it as you shut your eyes. You were falling asleep fast. “Spence, the scalp massage…”

“Was good, right?” he boasted, inflating his own ego a bit.

You nodded against his shoulder, not caring if you helped blow up his ego another two sizes. Burrowing deeper into the covers, nestling tighter against Spencer, you got one more quip in before falling asleep. “S’good that I think I have a crush on you now.”

Joke or not, he pulled the blanket higher until it reached your chin, holding you with both arms and kissing the top of your head before falling asleep himself.

thank you for being on my taglist!

if you’d like to join, the link is at the top of my masterlist

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new tags not working: @chelsea-the-enchanted @craybae1116 @writingintheroses (rose i know u changed ur url but atm i have NO idea to what lol)

plus: @pissbit @redevil590 @kaz-2y567 @datsimplol @reid-to-me @rem-ariiana @thegirlinthedresscriedalltheway @jaddi-e @just_arandomwriter @spencerswildestdreams1 @sskylarpaige26 @zbgubler @nyasiablack1899 @faithsamantha @chrisdylan17 @just_arandomwriter @peterisbetterthanpietro @thegirlinthedresscriedalltheway @jaddi-e @chloehanson

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds fic #b a queue

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txdoroki · 4 years

Text

bookshop

hey this is kinda just a silly thing i had an idea i liked for :P hope y’all like it!! <3

warnings: anGERING BCUZ OF HOW SLOW IT GOES

words: 3k

pairing: bakugou x reader

unedited!!

gn reader

desc: you work at a quaint book shop, and one morning meet an explosive college student. once again it’s so much better than how it sounds T-T i swear it’s so good bYE

no quirks

ik this seems a lot like the overused “meet your lover at a coffee shop” trope but i swear it isn’t like that I SWEAr

A/N: this was so fun to write but it is annoyingly slow </3 also in this bakugou is rich as fuck and for wHAT. he’s loaded as crap

i might make a part 2 but i’m not sure yet considering this was rlly tiring,, would y’all like that or would it be a waste? :/

HERE IT ISSSS @babymilkawa

you groaned as your alarm went off way too early, the sun that shone through your curtains getting into your eyes. you rubbed at your eyes, trying to shake off the sleep that dazed your mind.

the weekend went by too fast, and you wished you could sleep for just another five minutes. you struggled to keep your eyes open, the comfort of your bed willing you to sleep. to skip work for the day.

you were totally exhausted, having spent the weekend helping your co-worker, eijirou, unpack boxes at his apartment, on top of working on your classes. i mean, you loved to help people, but man, was it tiring.

after a few minutes of checking things on your phone, you sleepily walked to your bathroom and ran water over your face, hoping it’d help you wake up. you loved your job, you really did, but the hours? absolute hell. who the crap goes to a book shop at 7 in the morning? no clue.

you pulled one of your friend’s old sweatshirts over your head, taking a moment to fix your bedhead as well. you slipped on some sweatpants, and shrugged at yourself in your full-length mirror. you felt like crap, your entire body heavy and your blinks slow. it’s like your body was trying to put itself to sleep, even while standing.

once you were happy with your appearance for the day, you texted eijirou to let him know you were ready. he usually picked you up drove you both to work, since you had the same shifts.

a few minutes later he knocked on your apartment door, and when you swung it open, he had his signature wide grin on his face. he was holding two coffees, and you couldn’t help but smile as well, your bad mood from lack of sleep disappearing.

“hey eiji,” you smiled, taking one of the coffees from his hands and holding it close to your face, taking a deep breath of the homey scent. the smell made your stomach growl, and you both laughed at the sound.

“hungry, eh? well, i mean i have a granola bar,” kirishima shuffled around in his bag, eventually pulling out two granola bars.

“of course you do,” you smiled, happily chomping the snack. he was the definition of the mom friend, and such a sweetheart.

after you talked with him for a few minutes, you both walked to his car and drove to the shop that was a mile or two away.

you looked out of the window while he drove, and you both were sitting pretty much silently. you appreciated how you could just chill and appreciate each other’s company without communicating a bunch.

when you got there, there was a blonde guy standing in front of the doors.

“hey, bakubro, what’re you doing here?” kirishima and you walked up to him. when he turned to face you, you were confused as to why he looked so pissed off. he looked like he didn’t know how to smile.

“tch, i was going to look for a shitty book to buy, but no one was fucking here,”

“you know that we open at 7:15 right?” you smiled,

“and it’s 7:16 right now, dumbass,” ‘bakubro’ glared at you, “you’re late,”

“by a min-” you started saying, but were interrupted by kirishima.

“you’re right, well you can come look inside now,” he took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door with it, stepping inside of the shop with you and the blonde following.

you took your place behind the counter as kirishima tidied up the shop. he straightened the books and fixed anything that was out of place, while you just stood behind the counter and watched the blonde.

it was like he was entrancing, his spiky blonde hair and his piercing red eyes glaring at the books in front of him.

“sir, do you need help finding what you’re looking for?” you smiled at him when you noticed he was in the shop for nearly half an hour already, staring at the lines and lines of books.

“tch no, i can find it myself,” he grumbled, not even looking your way.

you rolled your eyes and turned to eijirou when you overheard him chuckle. he was standing near gardening books section, flipping through one of the books.

“what is it?” you raised an eyebrow, tapping a made-up rhythm lightly in the wooden counter you were standing behind.

“bakugou, isn’t this the kind of cactus you tried to raise,” he turned the book towards the blonde.

“shut up, shitty hair. quit bringing that up,”

eijirou just smiled and shook his head, turning back towards the shelf and sliding it back to its place.

you yawned, boredom filling the air as bakugou looked through the books and kirishima tended to the shelves.

you wished someone would come in soon, maybe one of your regulars or someone new. you weren’t a fan of there only being one customer in the store in the first place, but him being a bitch wasn’t much of a help either.

“have you seen that really nice green haired regular recently? i feel like he hasn’t came by in a while,” you yelled to kirishima.

“uhh, haha, no, i heard he um... moved?”

“moved?”

“yup,”

“why does it matter what happened to him, deku is a nerd anyways,” bakugou growled as he flipped through one of the many books he had in his arms.

you shrugged in his direction and walked to the back, hoping there’d be something to do that was helpful for the store. you felt like you were wasting time, but didn’t know what you should do. there were no customers, no spills, nothing out of order.

you decided to fix some of the directions, and chose to start on the paintings and vines that covered the wall. the store really was homey, you loved it. you could spend all day there, either as a customer or a worker.

it felt safe and sound, unlike most of the city that surrounded you.

“hey, dingbat, come here,” bakugou was now standing next to the register, and you glared at him, the heaviness of anger starting to gather in your chest.

dingbat? the fuck???

“be nice to y/n, they’re chill,” kirishima swatted at the air, shaking his head.

“nope, anyways, i need to check out, so fucking come here,”

“no, sir, you can choose to be nice and then talk to me,” you smiled at him and turned back to the decorations you were working on. sure you were a worker, but you weren’t going to help out a shithead.

“it’s your fucking job, come here,”

“y/n, i’m sorry, but do you mind checking him out? he’s got class soon,” kirishima smiled at you weakly, his stare basically a plead on its own.

you huffed and walked to the register, silently glaring as you handed bakugou the receipt and the two books he bought.

“took you long enough, damn,”

“what is your damn problem?” you scowled, “i haven’t done shit to you and you’re being an asshole,”

“y/n, don’t-” kirishima held his hand out.

“quit being in the fucking way then, see you later, kirishima,” he grabbed the stuff from your hands and walked out of the store onto the sidewalk, the door slamming behind him.

your decorations that you were putting up fell down, and you sighed. you took a step back and pouted when you realized you’d have to start over.

“i’m sorry, y/n, i know he is really stres-”

“he doesn’t need your excuses, it’s fine, eiji,” you smiled and nodded at him.

the rest of the day was spent with both of you cracking jokes at each other and tending to the customers. every now and then you’d rate their outfits once they left, and it was sort of entertaining to say the least. it was fun to see the little additions people would add to their outfits, not meant for others to specifically notice. like a chain on their pants, or a feather on their hat.

all other people had entire backstories, ones you would never get the pleasure of knowing. this didn’t usually bother you, and it never really has before, but you couldn’t deny the curiosity that seemed to tear at you about bakugou’s.

his couldn’t seem to leave your mind. what was his childhood like? was he always like this? what set the way for his personality? what were his parents like? was he single..?

“i wonder if he’s single,” you muttered to yourself as you swept. your actions stopped for a moment, and you wanted to throw up. did you actually just say that out loud?

“what was that, y/n?” kirishima looked up from his phone, a confused smile on his face. you hoped he didn’t hear you. although he did

“oh nothing, sorry!” you smiled back at him, and went back to sweeping. you turned away from him, hoping the heat that covered your cheeks wasn’t visible.

“alright,”

the rest of your day went by quickly, and by the time you got home, you were exhausted. you snuggled with one of your fluffiest pillows on your couch once you’d changed into your pjs, and you smiled. the smooth fabric of your couch felt calming to your sore joints, and it only added to your comfort.

before you knew it, you had fell asleep, but a knock on your door shook you from your slumber.

“hey, y/n, do you mind if i come in real quick?” you heard the familiar voice of your coworker from outside of your door, and you yelled a sleepy ‘go ahead’ before closing your eyes again.

you slowly opened your eyes when you heard a second pair of footsteps enter your apartment, and you were confused to see the blonde from earlier standing in your doorway.

“are you alright? it’s only six o’clock, and you were asleep?” eijirou walked over to you and sat next to you on your couch for a moment.

“yeah, sorry, i was just... just um sleepy,” you sat up and leaned into one of the arms of your couch for support, rubbing your eyes. you turned back towards the figure in your doorway, “what’s he doing here?”

“am i not allowed to tag along with my fucking friend?” bakugou growled, but neither one of you acknowledged him.

“sorry, was just coming to get some sugar! i ran out, and we are gonna be making cookies! see ya later, y/n!”

you waved as they both left your apartment, and easily went back to sleep. your dreams were nothing but blackness, and none were memorable when you woke up a few hours later.

over the next few weeks, you began to see bakugou more and more. he would come by the show every morning, dropping by to say hello to kirishima before he’d walk out of the door. you weren’t exactly sure why he’d come by every. single. day., sometimes he didn’t even buy something, only caring to say hi to eijirou.

you’d love to say that he went to see you, but you really doubted that was the case. i mean, he rarely ever said hello back whenever you’d greet him back, so it was implied he only cared for seeing kiri.

no matter what he’d say to you or rather what he didn’t say, he still occupied your mind constantly. you wondered about him a lot, not in a creepy way. you just really found him interesting... okay?????

after around three weeks after your first encounter with him, he greeted you back for the first time.

“oh, hey, y/n, right?” he turned to you with a blank face, not very common since he seemed to always be scowling at whoever he was speaking with.

“yep, what do you want?” you nodded towards where bakugou was standing near you next to the baking books, and kirishima raised an eyebrow.

“are you any good at cooking? i need to make cupcakes but kirishima here makes shit ones,”

kirishima chuckled, “he isn’t wrong, go ahead, y/n,”

“um, yeah i like to bake, when are you free?” you tried to hide the blush that covered your face.

“a bit obsessed with me, are ya?” he smirked as you began shouting.

“huh?? am not, you’re the one who-”

“oi shut it, dingbat, i’ll come pick you up from this shit job how’s that work?”

kirishima just stood where he had been, staring at you both with wide eyes. he’d never seen bakugou offer to pick anyone up whatsoever before. especially not to spend time with them.

once he left, it was like time chose to go by slower than ever. you checked the clock that hung above the doorway ever so often, and would quietly groan at how much longer it’d be until you got to make those damned cupcakes.

you decided to keep yourself busy with cleaning up in the back of the store, restocking the shelves and tidying up the stacked up books that sat collecting dust.

“y/n,” kirishima called for you, his voice somewhat muffled by the shut door that separated you both.

you walked to him, and smiled at the man who was standing in the doorway.

“quit staring and c’mon, we don’t have much time, dumbass,” he frowned and beckoned for you to come over, you hurried to grab your purse.

“aren’t we driving kirishima too.?” you cocked your head when he began to take off out of the shop. he paused and rolled his eyes, shaking his head and continuing to walk across the street once more.

the drive to his apartment was filled with you talking about whatever and him finding various ways to insult it, although his gaze wasn’t filled with the same amount of sharpness as usual.

you decided not to say anything about it, not wanting it to cease. you were honestly enjoying yourself, even though he was being sort of a dick. it wasn’t exactly unlike him to be one, though.

after around ten minutes of the conversation flowing like water, he parked in front of a bougie looking tall apartment complex. just from looking outside, you could see the wall-length windows and the impressive chandeliers that hung inside the building. you felt small, your apartment certainly not comparable to this.

he scoffed when he saw your wowed expression, and silently took your hand. this would’ve been romantic if he wasn’t using it to drag you inside. the pace he was leading you both at left you panting by the time you got to his door, and your arm was sore from how harshly he was pulling and swerving you around the hallways.

when you took your first step into his apartment, your entire body began to feel light. his apartment didn’t match his firey personality whatsoever, and it was absolutely stunning. astonishing countertops and a double oven added to his impressively sized kitchen. sparkling crystal animals covered one of the shelves nearby the tv. just by looking at the entry way, you loved his apartment.

his apartment was flawless, and it didn’t even seem like an apartment. it had a generous amount of space, and you wondered how he could afford this as a college student. you decided to let the curiosity drop, it’d be rude to ask about his wealth anyways..

“y/n, quit staring at my shit and hurry the fuck over here,” bakugou grumbled, stirring you from your thoughts.

you nodded and walked over to him, smiling at the ingredients that littered his kitchen island. these were gonna be some good cupcakes.

“what fla-”

“funfetti, duh,”

you chuckled, and examined the extra sprinkles that he had bought. they looked amazing. and expensive.

you both chatted as you started the cupcakes, since he was bossy and so were you, you decided that it’d be better to do separate jobs. he was in charge of making the cupcakes while you were “doing the shitty icing, better not fuck it up” in bakugou’s words.

you worked on the icing and tried to hold back your giggles at bakugou’s cursing when he realized he forgot to add the sugar.

“god fucking damnit now i have to redo these fucking cupcakes,” he groaned, pulling the now scrapped cupcake tray out of the oven with absolutely no care, shooting you a frown when you commented on how he was gonna burn himself if he kept being that reckless.

“shoulda paid attention,” you stuck your tongue out, a wide smile brightening up your face.

“fucking shut it, dingbat,”

“WHY WON’T YOU STOP CALLING ME DINGBAT,” you shouted, although still being careful to stir the icing at the correct pace. you weren’t about to mess up an easy job, hell no!

after a few hours of you both baking in harmony, you flopped down on his leather couch, resting one of your arms over your forehead as you stared up at the ceiling.

“i have a baking night every week with kiri, if you wanna come,” bakugou came up next to you and muttered, and you weren’t sure if he even wanted you to. i mean, you barely could hear him.

he handed you a rag to wipe your hands on, and sat down next to you.

“can i?” you widely smiled at him, hoping he still wanted you to.

“why the fuck would i tell you about it if not,” he scoffed, and you giggled.

you shrugged, and around half an hour later he drove you home for the night.

you had a tupperware of cupcakes resting on the counter next to your fridge when you went to bed that night, although the memories that came with them were seated next to your mind. the small chuckles you would manage to pull from him replaying in your mind as you stared happily at your ceiling.

you sure were looking forward to the next weekend.

taglist: @todoroki-shoto-is-life @frxggie

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #soft bakugou #mha x reader #m.favs #mha bakugou #mha kirishima #baker bakugou #this took so long

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jewish-space-laser · 4 years

Note

ok i have an idea for a cbl blurb? could u do a blurb from harry’s pov from the night where he got drunk and how he felt when he saw yn and stuff? ik it already happened but i think seeing it from his viewpoint would be interesting!

Could be Lethal - Part Three (Harry’s POV)

“And every time I’ve held a rose, It seems I only felt the thorns, And so it goes, and so it goes, And so will you soon I suppose...”

– And So It Goes, Billie Joel

HELLO EVERYONE! It’s been months since I’ve posted anything on here, but I randomly got the motivation to pick this up last week. I apologize in advance for my rusty writing skills! This ask has literally been sitting in my inbox for 10 months, so posting it actually feels quite cleansing. Anyway, here is a (long) blurb full of angst, angst, and you guessed it, angst! I hope you love Harry’s take of that night as much as I do. I love you all muchly, thank you for your ongoing love and support <3 xoxoxoxoxoxoxooox Tile

(3.8k word)

You and Harry were friends, with a capital ‘F’. Yeah, you’ve been sleeping in his bed for the past two months, and maybe your entire nervous system goes into hyperdrive when you’re in the same room, but that’s normal, right?

The one where you and Harry have an arrangement… of the cuddling sort.

See the CBL masterlist here!

WARNING: Detailed descriptions of heavy drinking

~~~

It was bullshit. It was all bullshit.

Harry was miserable. He knew it, his friends knew it, his family knew it… it seemed the only person who wasn’t picking up on his desperation was you.

You were a complete enigma to him. Sometimes, you were the warmest, most open person he’d ever met, indulging him with interesting conversations, stupid jokes, and even the occassional existential discussion. It was always difficult for Harry to truly open up to a person, having been jaded time and time again by people who weren’t able to look past his famous exterior.

That’s what makes it so much harder, he thinks. Knowing you properly, you knowing him properly. It made the moments where you were closed off harsher, colder, more difficult to read.

Since you left his house two days prior, he had done just about anything he could to take his mind off of you. He loved thinking about you, but he also hated thinking about you. It was tortuous and circular and he just wanted a brief moment of emotional respite.

No, he didn’t want respite, he needed it.

So he watched all three Lord of the Rings movies in a row, tested out a new stir fry recipe, spent way too much money online shopping, and even scrolled through the Humane Society website in a moment of weakness. But none of it mattered, because even if he could distract himself for a moment, you were still there, lingering in the peripherals of his mind like a song stuck in his head.

It was dizzying and mind-boggling, and Harry was at a loss for what to do. So when Sunday morning rolled around and it still felt like his lungs were being crushed into a ball, he started drinking.

It was only 8:00AM, but he bypassed the coffee cabinet and went straight to the fridge, pulling out a chilled bottle of champagne. The pop of the cork was as loud as a gunshot, but Harry didn’t even flinch, hardly registering the sound of it hitting the floor across the room as he rushed the bottle to his lips.

Bubbles fizzed past his tongue and dripped down his chin, sliding down his bare chest before puddling on the floor. He had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly at the burn of the carbonation, but each gulp sent pleasant tingles over his skin.

For the first time in ages, his mind felt numb. He didn’t necessarily feel good, but he didn’t feel miserable anymore, and that’s what mattered. He could close his eyes without seeing your smile flash in his head, he could listen to music without immediately relating the lyrics to you, and after his second bottle of wine, he was even able to brew a cup of coffee without thinking of you.

Okay, maybe he thought of you a little.

At some point, he passed out on the couch, cartons of Vietnamese takeout sitting cold on his coffee table. When his eyes finally blinked open, the sun had already started to set.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. There was a familiar ache pulsing behind his eyes, and he groaned loudly into his empty house. It never used to feel empty, but now you’d come and gone, and it was too late. You’d left your mark on his house and his coffee and his heart… so he drank more.

There was no more wine, so he started in on his collection of hard liquor, expensive bottles lined on top of his cupboards. Normally they were reserved for when he had guests over, but this fell into the realm of desperation. His sunken eyes scanned the glass bottles before settling on the cheapest of them, an unopened Maker’s Mark. It would do.

He was pouring a healthy sized glass of the whisky, and then suddenly he wasn’t. His heavy eyes blinked in confusion as he stared across the bar at the bartender, who was raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“That’ll be thirty-five pounds, mate,” the bartender said, “got roped into buying the first round, eh?”

“Yeah,” Harry grunted, glancing over his shoulder to see Thomas and Jessie watching him from a booth.

He doesn’t remember leaving his house, let alone coming to the pub with his friends. In fact, if he tried to think about it, his memory of the entire day felt fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together.

In his mind, this was a success. A full day gone without thinking about you or talking to you or seeing you. The clock behind the bar read 00:43 in red neon numbers. He took one of the shots quickly, signing the bill and taking the remaining five back to his friends.

“Harry mate, we told you we’re not getting pissed tonight,” Thomas groaned, “what’d you get six shots for?”

“What kind are they?” Jessie asked, wrinkling their nose.

“I dunno,” Harry shrugged, setting the tray down directly in front of himself. His vision swayed to and fro, but he still managed to down another shot, disregarding the concerned look his friends shared. “It’s rum. If you don’t want any, that’s fine.”

“It’s a Sunday, mate,” Thomas reminded him gently.

“We’re at a pub, aren’t we?” Harry slurred. “Supposed to get drunk here.”

“You asked us to come here,” Jessie said slowly, “said you needed to talk to us about something.”

Harry blinked at them slowly, swaying slightly in his seat. He didn’t remember any of this.

“Actually, he said he needed a drink,” Thomas corrected, “I didn’t realize he meant twenty drinks.”

Another shot burned down his throat, and then everything was cold.

“Harry.”

His head was pounding. Every limb felt heavy. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes, already overwhelmed by the echo of Thomas’s voice reverberating off of the tile floors.

“Harry.”

He knew that somebody was trying to get his attention, but he just couldn’t. The alcohol had done its job for most of the day, keeping his brain muddled down and diluted just to spare him the pain of remembering. But now, it backfired, trapping him inside his own head with no way out, with nothing to do but remember. He could hear people talking in the background, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was as if he was underwater, slipping further and further down with each painful clench of his heart.

He felt a hand press against his arm, and jerked away, causing his stomach to twist. He didn’t want to be here anymore, and he certainly didn’t want to be bothered.

“G’way, Thomas,” he managed to grunt.

“It’s me.”

Your voice was clear as crystal to him, but he knew it couldn’t be real. You had left him, after all.

The image of you driving away from his house was burned into his memory, playing over and over again in slow motion. If he thought hard enough, he could even remember the way your body had felt beneath his, whining and squirming and gasping, just like he’d always dreamed about. He could remember the sunken expression on your face the next morning, the heavy silence of the car ride to the coffee shop. He could remember how he’d hoped, so badly, that you’d finally talk about it, this unspoken connection that could no longer be denied. Most of all, he remembers the way his heart dropped when you told him that you didn’t remember any of it.

Another gentle brush, this time along his hairline, and he managed to open his eyes just a sliver.

You looked amazing. Well, there were circles under your eyes, you were wearing your pajamas and slippers, and you were frowning in concern, but to Harry, you were the most beautiful thing.

“You’re here… y’really here….” he sighed.

You were crouched in front of him, holding a plastic cup of water, and all he wanted to do was pull you into his chest. You looked sleepy and cosy, just like you always did when you stayed over. Before he could reach out to pull you close, you were putting the rim of the cup against his bottom lip.

He took it, grateful for the relief it provided his dry mouth. For the first time since he came to, he took in his surroundings. He was in a single stall bathroom, curled on the floor next to the toilet. The walls were an ugly pale yellow, while the floors were white, making the streaks of dirt and grime more noticeable than ever. Thomas was leaning against the sink across the room, watching you as you tried to get him to finish the cup.

“Y’look so pretty, always look so good,” Harry slurred, “just wanna snuggle, like we always do.”

He loved the way your mouth dropped open. Everything about you was endearing, really. He watched as you twisted your head to say something to Thomas, water sloshing around in the cup when you nodded your head quickly. Thomas left immediately after, but Harry hardly even noticed.

When you turned back around to face him, he felt blinded. Despite the dark circles under your eyes, they’re bright and they pierce through him just like always. He loves the color of your skin and the shape of your nose and the little crease that forms between your eyebrows when you’re anxious. He thinks he could probably paint you with his eyes closed.

Warmth licked across his skin when you brushed your fingertips against his forehead, tucking a stray lock of hair back into place. Harry leaned into your touch, unwilling to let the moment pass too quickly.

“Can you try taking a sip of water, H?” You tilted your head. “For me?”

He could have laughed, had he not been so nauseated. He would do anything for you normally, but he really did feel awful. “G’na make me sick,” he insisted, wrinkling his nose at the cup in your hand. Even though he could hardly focus, his eyes zeroed in on the faded X scrawled in sharpie on the back of your hand, a souvenir from your night out at TAVERN. He had a matching mark on his hand, and he dreaded the moment the ink would wash off fully. Just another thing forgotten.

He just wanted you.

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the look on your face told him that it had slipped out. There was no way he regretted it though, not with you right in front of him. Not in this state of mind.

“It’s gonna make you feel better, and then we can go home,” you urged softly, scooting a tiny bit closer to him.

Home. When he thought of home, he thought about mornings in his house, sunlight filtering in through the blinds and leaving shadowed stripes across your skin. Home was the way you squinted your eyes tighter together right before waking up. Home was you at his kitchen table, going off at him about not doing his dishes.

“Y’coming home w’me?” He managed to say. Your eyes softened.

“Only if you drink this whole cup,” you lifted it up to him once again, gingerly tilting his head up with a finger on his chin. Even though he felt like his stomach would combust if tried to swallow anything, he allowed you to help him drink some water. Some sloshed messily onto his shirt, but it felt sobering. You met his eyes for a moment, “is that good?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

If you asked him to drink water, he would drink water. He would drink an entire ocean of water. It was achingly clear to literally everybody but you. He could tattoo your name over his heart and you still wouldn’t see.

You gulped loudly, but didn’t say a word, simply prompting him to take another sip of water. He wished more than anything that you’d say something. Make some kind of facial expression. He just wanted a signal, a sign, that you felt anything towards him; disgust, affection, pity.

He was sure you must pity him.

Harry drank the rest of the water, cheeks burning as he asked you for a refill. He was still drunk, but the fog had cleared enough for him to sit up straight without feeling like he was going to hurl. He watched you refill the cup in the sink that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in decades, but that was honestly the least of his concerns.

“Y’must think I’m pathetic,” he grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back against the wall. “Can’t lose you.”

“You haven’t lost me,” he heard you say quietly.

But it felt like he had. Because even though you were friends, it wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t fall asleep to the sound of your soft exhales. It wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t feel that rush of excitement when you sneakily texted him under the table on nights out. Having you at a distance could never be enough.

“Harry…” you sighed, rubbing your eyes, “why did you drink so much tonight?”

If your obliviousness hadn’t been so devastating, he would have laughed. How could you sit here with him, look into his eyes, and not see that his heart was entirely in your hands? How could he explain anything to you if you hadn’t already seen it?

So he wouldn’t try. Not right now.

He mustered up the strength to push up onto his knees, managing to stand up fully with your steady grip on his arms. He took one shaky step as his head spun, and felt your arms snake around his waist to keep him balanced. Without even thinking about it, he wrapped his arm over your shoulder, reveling in the feeling of having you so close as you helped him out of the toilet.

You brought him to a stop in the main room by the bar, and he couldn’t help but bury his nose into the top of your head. You smelled just like you always did. It had only been a few nights, but your scent was already fading on his bedsheets.

“Y’smell like lavender,” he hummed, squeezing your arm lightly, “s’like you’re tryin; t’torture me…. So pretty.”

It really was torture, having you hold onto him as you both walked out of the pub. You were distracting, with your warm skin and soft hands. Each step was difficult; his feet were heavy as anvils and he just wanted to curl up right here on the sidewalk.

Just as he was considering plopping down on the pavement, he heard the familiar beep of your car opening. He closed his eyes once he was sat in the passenger seat, feeling you fuss over his seatbelt. He flinched slightly when you slid a cold water bottle between his knees.

Harry blinked, and then suddenly you were buckled in behind the steering wheel, poking his arm and peering at him with tired eyes. “Can you stay awake for me, H? Just till we get to your house, okay?”

“Y’coming to my house?”

You were so good to him, all the time. By the looks of your attire, you were ready to be in bed hours ago, yet here you were, patient as ever.

“Yes, I’m taking you home,” you said through a yawn.

“Miss having you at my house,” Harry exhaled. He didn’t even know what he was saying really, just the same thoughts and memories circling through his mind like planets around the sun, all them centered on you. “My sheets don’t smell like you anymore.”

Suddenly, he felt hot all over. His trousers were too scratchy against his skin, his palms felt clammy, and the longer you stayed silent on the other side of the car, his stomach started turning. In an effort to cool off and calm down, he let his head fall against the window, the cool glass soothing his skin.

Drunk or not, he was trying to tell you how he feels, he was constantly trying to tell you how he feels… and you didn’t say a word. You never did. It was so frustrating that he found himself biting back tears.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you cleared your throat. “You can’t…” your voice cracked, “you can’t say things like that, Harry. It hurts me when you say things like that.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Harry managed to say. “But it’s the truth.”

He was so confused. How on earth could you be hurting when he was sitting here with his arms wide open? Was he so repulsive that the mere thought of being with him caused you pain, somehow?

He was too drunk for this.

Luckily, you seemed to be on the wavelength. “Let’s just… not talk,” you said, shoulders slumped.

Harry was feeling awfully dejected himself. He’d spent the last few days trying to cope with his complicated feelings, and now he was back at square one. Every time he thought he knew where the two of you stood, you would say something vague and he would start all over. Your relationship was like a house of cards; delicate, fragile, and knocked to the ground with the slightest shift, the tiniest gust of wind.

The headache started out small, but by the time you pulled your car into Harry’s driveway, he was feeling like he might keel over. Somehow, he was simultaneously drunk and hungover. If he was going to make it up the stairs to his room, he was going to need something in his stomach, and water that wasn’t from a pub bathroom.

It was humiliating enough that he’d needed you to help him from the car, but upon entering his house, he nearly kicked his shoe through the living room window, grumbling about toast. He knew he’d been less than impressive tonight, but perhaps this was what you needed -- seeing him at rock bottom -- to finally open up and have a real conversation about what you could be.

When he woke up in the morning, he would be sober, and he would be ready. He would make you coffee like he always does, and maybe he’d even run out and pick up fresh pastries.

“Want some toast,” he said, though he was fairly certain he’d said it once already.

You were standing in front of him, toes just inches apart, and it felt instinctive to place his hands on your waist and pull you in. The silk pajama top you were wearing was cool against his hands, but he could feel the heat of your skin underneath, the frantic thumping of your heart against your ribcage tickling his fingertips.

Your hands were on his shoulders to keep him steady, but he was suddenly feeling more sober than he had all night. All day, really.

Harry slid his hands further behind you, locking together behind your back. Having you close felt incredible. It hadn’t even been three days since he last saw you, yet every atom in his body was craving your touch.

“You, um,” he felt your shaky whale against his collar bone, “you have to let go of me if you want me to make you toast.”

Letting go of you felt physically impossible, so instead, Harry dipped his head down and rested his forehead against yours. The anticipation was excruciating as he waited for you to do what you always did: sink into his arms, wrap yourself around him, soothe him to sleep with the weight of your head on his chest.

Fissures cracked through his heart when you pushed him back, taking a single step back that may as well have been a mile. Suddenly, the air all around him felt cold, the room felt darker, the silence felt louder. He took a deep breath in, but still felt like he was suffocating.

“Do you really not remember?”

He needed to know. He had done everything in his power to think about anything else, but had somehow ended up here, standing face to face with you. He wonders if this is how it was supposed to be, if throwing you together over and over again was the universe’s ultimate plan, if all of this misery would be worth it in the end.

He’d experienced heartbreak before, but this was something else. And when you choked out, “Harry, please don’t make me say it,” in the smallest voice he’d ever heard you use, he knew that he could write millions of records about the pain of this moment, and still never do it justice.

“You remember, don’t you?”

All you did was nod your head once, but he suddenly felt drained. Maybe it was the full day of heavy, reckless drinking… or maybe it was the realization that things really might not work out. He still wanted to try, though. Even though you’d left the other day, there were countless other times you had stayed. For months you’d been coming over in secret, coming out of your shell and showing him how amazing you really were. That had to count for something; there had to be a reason.

Coffee. He would make coffee in the morning and the two of you would fix everything.

“Should we head to bed? ‘S getting kind of late, y’must be exhausted.”

You really did look tired, your eyes rimmed with red from yawning over and over, back hunched and shoulders slumped. He was feeling knackered himself, and was more than ready for this night to be over.

“Actually… I think I’m gonna head back home,” you gulped. Harry felt like he’d been slapped, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. It’s as if you’d turned to sand; there one moment and slipping through his fingers the next.

“You don’t want to stay?” Harry tried to keep his voice even, but even he could hear how it wavered. He clenched his jaw to keep from crying.

“I just… have to go home,” you said, looking everywhere but at him.

He waited for you to say something else, but instead watched as you hoisted your purse further up onto your shoulder and walked out the door. Shell shocked, he stood there frozen, even as your headlights disappeared down the street.

A long breath blew past his lips as he finally moved to lock his front door, any hope of you walking back through it dashed by the way you’d walked out for a second time.

Harry likely would have benefited from a glass of water and pain medication, but with a buzzing brain and a shattered heart, all he could manage was to pass out on the couch fully clothed, dreaming about what might have been if you had just stayed.

~~~

As always, let me know what you think! I love talking to you <3 xoxoxoxox Tile

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deadontheinsidebut · 4 years

Text

Happy Anniversary, Salt-shaker

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: You and Tsukishima are celebrating your 2 year anniversary and he shows a side you’ve never seen before. (it’s summer and you both have just graduated from high school a month ago). It’s basically a day in a life with Tsukishima with a hint of soft boi :’)

Warning(s): soft Tsukki ☺

Words: 1.7k

a/n: ik it sounds kind of boring but I promise it’s cute!! Pls give it a read.

Today marks the two year anniversary for you and your boyfriend. It was the beginning of summer and the sun was starting to come out a lot more. As you stare outside your bedroom window, a sleepy voice muffles for you to shut the blinds and get back to bed. Sometimes, you forget how soft the snarky middle blocker is in the morning.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, is the sun bothering you?” You ask, snickering at his babyish antics.

“Mmph,” he murmurs something incoherent into the pillow.

You make your way over to your bed that was currently occupied by a certain blond haired boy.

“What was that, sweetie?” you say.

His arm extends quickly and pulls you into his arms. Your eyes are wide open in shock as he holds you like a teddy bear, his big form enveloping your petite one.

“Be quiet. It’s too early for this,” he mutters against your ear.

“But Tsukki-”

You were cut off by a pair of soft lips pressing onto the top of your head. The next kiss landed on your ear. He slowly makes his way down to your neck, his warm breath makes you blush.

“T-tsukki, what are you doing?”

“I told you to be quiet.”

You turn to face him and his eyes are half-closed. He lazily blinks and stares at you. The closeness between your faces makes your heart flutter. Two years have passed and you still get butterflies. A couple minutes of staring passes before Tsukishima begins talking again.

“Happy anniversary, idiot.”

You bury your face into his neck to hide your embarrassment.

“Where did all your sass go, princess?”

“Shut up,” you grumble.

You both lay there for what felt like eternity before your stomach grumbles.

You can feel the vibrations against your body as your boyfriend lets out a deep laugh.

“Lets get up and eat,” he decides for you.

The both of you are up and dressed now. You and Tsukki have got the house to yourselves since your parents were off vacationing somewhere in Hawaii and of course what better thing to do than to call your boyfriend over and have a sleepover?

His sluggish romantic side was gone the moment you both left the bed. He was back to his smart-mouthed self and you didn’t mind. After all, that’s exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place.

You’re slaving away in the kitchen trying to make an English breakfast when Kei comes over to you with a cup of warm tea. He’s smirking at your distress because he knows how much you hate cooking in the morning. He would offer to help you, but seeing you scrambling (pun intended) around the kitchen trying to find the eggs was much more endearing.

Eventually, you do finish making the food and you two settle down to enjoy breakfast. Eating with Tsukishima is usually filled with silence as he liked to enjoy his meal in peace. He has his signature headphones over his ears and is humming along to the music. You watch his relaxed demeanor and can’t help but sigh softly at him. This makes him look up at you and smirk once again.

“What are you looking at, you weirdo?”

“Hmph, why do you have to make everything sound bad, Tsukki?” You whine playfully.

You’re munching on your bread when you feel a foot rest under yours from beneath the table. Your shocked eyes make their way up to look at the salt-shaker, but his eyes are focused on his food. You decide to take his strange form of affection in stride and continue to happily eat your breakfast.

Since the sun was shining so brightly on your anniversary, you decided to take advantage of it and have a picnic at the park. Hand in hand, you two made your way down the trail of the park. The flowers surrounding you two alone was enough to bring a smile to your face.

“Keiiiiiiii,” you drag out his name.

He’s looking at you suspiciously because you only say his name like that when you want something.

“Pick me a flower!” You exclaim.

You don’t actually expect him to comply but...

“Tch, stupid,” he responds as he bends over to pick up an iris. The light purple colour was so much more beautiful in the sunlight and your eyes glimmered in excitement at the romantic gesture. You open your palms awaiting the flower, but Tsukishima had other plans. He gently places it behind your ear and fondles your hair.

God, you can’t get enough of him. And he can’t stop smirking at your bashful face.

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes your hand again and leads you over to an empty spot of grass. You spread the picnic blanket across the grass and you both sit facing each other on it. You two are eating the basic pb and j sandwiches when a ball is kicked in your face. Tsukki quickly turns his head in the direction that the ball was coming from, his face looking like he was going to punish whoever was at fault for hurting his precious girlfriend.

A little boy rushes over to retrieve his ball and apologize for the incident but Tsukishima was not having it. His eyes are staring daggers at the poor boy and you can see the kid cowering at the sight. You quickly step in front of your boyfriend and the boy and smile at him.

“It’s alright! Don’t worry about it!” You reassure the boy and he takes this chance to run away.

Tsukki is quick to spin you around and check your head for any bruises. After a million “I’m okays” and him chastising you for not and dodging the ball, you both settle down and finish the picnic. You soak up the July sun and wish this day could last forever minus the ball to the head.

It was almost 6pm and you both had booked a room at a karaoke bar. This was your idea. Tsukishima just grumbled and went along with it because he wanted you to be happy (hehe). When you two get there, you sing the first song. He’s laid back against the couch watching you prance around the room enthusiastically. His eyes are on your every move and you start to slow down at his intense gaze. He’s entranced by you. You’re everything he wants. you notice this and take this chance to sit on his lap playfully while singing loud and proud. His arms make its way around your waist and you lean down for kiss. But before your lips could touch, you pull away and the song ends. He’s grumbling at your tease and you laugh as you get off.

“Your turn!” You declare, once again not expecting him to actually get up and grab the microphone out of your hand and whisper in your ear,

“It’s payback time, princess.”

It’s safe to assume that he only calls you by that pet name when he’s scheming as well. The song he’s chosen echoes around the room and the tune of “Love Story” by Taylor Swift is heard. Obviously, you are as surprised because you didn’t even know that he knew this song considering his opposite-of-anything-sweet personality.

As he belts the lyrics of the song, he takes your hand in his and stares deep into your eyes. He does not need the lyrics, you notice. He sings “marry me y/n you’ll never have to be alone..” and his eyes hold so much conviction that you almost believe him. Your heart is fluttering wildly and you leap into his arms. He catches you with one arm. The song has finished and your bodies are intertwined in a lover’s embrace.

Tsukishima makes the first move and shifts your weight so that you’re resting on one leg as he reaches into the carry-along bag he had. He pulls out a pair of headphones that look similar to his except that they were tinted pink. He hands them to you and you examine them carefully. On one of the muffs were your names etched in the center. You gasp at his intricate gift.

“Now you can listen to music too instead of just staring at my face like a weirdo,” he comments, his signature smirk right on his face.

Your face heats up.

“SHUT UP BAKASHIMA,” but your face is buried in his neck. You appreciate him so much.

“Oh! I have your gift too!”

“I told you not to get me anything,” he mutters, but you can see a faint smile on his face.

Your hands reveal a beautiful watch that opens up to display a picture of you two smiling and looking at each other lovingly.

“This picture was from our one year anniversary..” his voice trails off and pink dusts his cheek.

“Yup! You can replace it with any picture later on, but I love this one so-”

Your words are cut off as he pulls you towards him. He’s warm. His fingers press into your back. One hand releases you and pulls you away so he can place his hand on your cheek. He gently caresses your face and his eyes hold absolute adoration. Slowly, as though he were holding a doll, he pulls you in and your lips finally meet. The kiss is soft and delicate. You close your eyes and hum against his mouth. He deepens the kiss and in that moment, you knew this was exactly where you were meant to be.

You two make your way home, genuine smiles plastered on your faces, each other’s gifts in hand. After you two had showered and gotten into clean clothes, you’re back onto the bed but this time, there is no sun. Despite that, the moon is shining just as brightly. It held a kind of mysterious aura to it and it made the atmosphere so much more intimate. You’re cuddling with your back to his chest when he turns you to face him.

“Did you have fun today?” He asks you.

“Mhm,” you mumble into his chest.

“I love you, y/n.”

Your eyes shoot up and look into Tsukki’s eyes. There is nothing but complete love in them.

“L-love you too, K-kei,” you stutter back.

This Tsukki was different. He was oh so romantic. Perhaps it was the summer’s spell that was influencing your salty boyfriend, but you wanted to savour it.

“Happy anniversary, idiot”

“Happy anniversary, Salt-shaker”

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marveloussupernerd · 4 years

Note

im going to come thru and request one of your holiday prompts!! please do jumin saying number twelve 💀💀 but like it’s the penthouse

Christmas Lights and Bruises - Jumin Han

This is from my Christmas prompt list , requests are currently open so feel free to request :)

Prompt: “I fell off the roof putting up Christmas lights”

Summary: Jumin really wanted you to have the best Christmas ever. If that meant he got a few bruises along the way... well... that was okay by him

FIRST OF ALL after a Google search: a fall from over 50 ft will almost def kill u and Jumin lives on the eighth floor at least (80 ft up min) so he would die. I’m not trying to kill him SO we’re just gonna say that the penthouse ceilings are high and he had to use a ladder to line the ceiling w lights

ANYWAYS ty for requesting bb I love you and literally everyone has requested seven for these prompts but you ? Just saying this is like everyone else erasure (no h8 to those requested seven tho :))

You were going to go for a nice day out while Jumin finished up some work at the home office. He didn’t have too too much, but he still sent you to the hairdressers because you were in need of a cut, and he wanted to get your nails done too while you were at it. You opted for the cut first.

Christmas was only in a few more weeks; you were so excited! This was your first Christmas with Jumin by your side (more notably as your HUSBAND by your side), so you wanted to make it special. The past few Christmases had been meh for you so you really wanted to make this one fun. You had already ordered his present and it was on its way. Soon you wanted to put the tree up too!

You hadn’t opted to get too too much off for your haircut, a little over an inch (2.5 cm) or so, but you were still excited to have it look all nice and fancy. Plus the hairdresser was always soothing. After she had washed your hair you made you way over to the seat to start the cut.

Not even half your head cut later and you were getting a phone call from one of the building’s security guards. He knew where you were at the moment so you figured it was important. You asked your hairstylist to wait a moment then picked up the call. “This is Mrs. Han.”

“I’m so glad I got a hold of you. Uh, your husband has had a fall...”

“A fall? Is he okay?” Your hairdresser raised her eyebrow.

“He refuses to lay down and rest. I swear I heard something crack so I called the doctor...” he sounded concerned.

“Alright. I’m on my way.” You took off the cape and stood up, hair still wet and half-cut. “I’ve got to go. Can we finish this later?”

With all the money she was getting paid? Of course she wouldn’t say no. She nodded and wished you the best. You flung on your heavy coat and headed out.

“Would you like me to send Driver Kim?” The guard asked.

“That won’t be necessary. I’m only a few blocks away. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You hightailed it to the penthouse. How did he fall!? He was supposed to be working. Your face was cold; it was below freezing out and your wet hair certainly wasn’t helping. Maybe you should have brought a scarf.

You rushed into the building, heading up to the penthouse floor and to the front door. The security guards were waiting for you. “Mrs Han.” They greeted you, standing at attention.

“Is he okay? Where is he?” You questioned.

“He’s likely at his desk right now, Ma’am. The doctor should be here in about 15 minutes.”

You rushed through the door, not bothering to take off your coat (you were cold enough already granted) and rushed to the office, knocking before opening the door immediately.

Jumin was at his desk, typing away at his computer. He looked up to you and smiled, then winced. “You’re home early.”

“Jumin!” You rushed by his side, kneeling next to him. “Are you okay? You had me worried.”

“Oh,” he waved his hand to disregard what had happened. “You heard about that. I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to be strong around me,” you cupped his cheek in your hands. “Won’t you lay down until the doctor gets here?”

He sighed. “I suppose if you’d like me to.”

You grabbed his arm as he stood up, carefully guiding him to bed. “Would you care to tell me how you fell?”

“Well... I might as well since you’re about to find out anyways. I... fell off the roof putting up Christmas lights.” He sounded dejected. You helped sit him down gently in bed.

“The roof!? Jumin we’re on like the eighth floor!?” You were shouting. You were just so shocked.

“Oh... not the roof. The... ceiling? I tried to line the ceiling with Christmas lights for you in the living room. But... I fell off the ladder.” You pulled the blanket over him.

“Oh Baby,” you stroked some of the hair out of his face. “You didn’t have to put those up. We can pay someone to put those up.”

“But... I know how much you love Christmas and I wanted to make it extra special for you.”

“I know. I bet it looks great,” you kissed his cheek.

“Not really... the lights are hanging around only half lit up.

“Well I’m proud of you anyway. Now where does it hurt?”

He looked kind of uneasy, as though he still didn’t want you to know how much it hurt. He had a tight frown on his face. “My... chest. I don’t know. Right here?” He pointed under his chest. Men were never very good at injuries, huh.

“Your ribs? We’ll have the doctor check them out. You might have a concussion too if you hit your head.” You gently pressed a kiss to his lips. “You’re so sweet. But please, let me help next time. You had me worried sick.” Your eyes were glossy. What a stupid thing to cry over. But you were quite upset. What if he had gotten severely hurt? What if he had actually tried to do this outside?

“Okay. But I’m okay, alright?” He reached forward slightly to unbutton your winter coat, pushing it off your shoulders. “Oh my,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh my what?” Your voice was just as soft to match his.

“Your hair... has looked better. I thought I had paid to have it done.” His hand reached out to touch your hair, a crunching sound being made as soon as he touched it.

“Oh, it probably froze. I, uh, left as soon as I heard. She only had time to cut half of it. But, I’ll get it done later! So long as you’re okay. You know, I can actually just have them come here so I can stay with you if you-“

“Honey,” he cut you off. You looked back at him. He had a warm smile on his face. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I’ll make you some tea while we wait for the doctor. He should be here any minute though.” You stood from your spot, but Jumin caught your wrist before you could leave.

“Stay here with me. Call the Chef to make tea or something. I just... want you here for now.” His eyes looked sleepy. How could you refuse? You sat down on the side of the bed, shifting so you could stroke his hair. He shut his eyes as you waited.

The doctor said he had bruised a rib. He probably also had a minor concussion and should rest as much as possible and avoid stressful work. He clearly didn’t know Jumin. Still, you’d try your best to keep him resting for the next few days. He lived and worked in such a fast-paced environment that the doctor worried any work could set him off and make his conditions worse.

“Watch Christmas movies with me?” You asked, after the doctor had left. You had put your hair up so that you didn’t have to look at it, half-cut, every time you passed a mirror. If the hairdresser didn’t get here soon you’d cut it yourself. It was that annoying. Still, for the sake of Jumin, you tried to ignore it.

“I haven’t seen very many,” he commented, eyes locked on you as you climbed into bed, pajamas and fuzzy socks on. “Christmas movies.”

“For real!?” You took the remote from the bedside table and climbed under the blankets, scooting closer to your husband. He was on his back, head propped up by pillows. He wanted to switch to his side but you wouldn’t let him. It would hurt!

He pulled you closer by the waist until your head was resting on his shoulder. “For real. I’ve only seen... hm... A Christmas Carol. It’s A Wonderful Life...”

“That’s all!?” You moved yourself off his shoulder to look at him in disbelief.

“And Rudolph.”

“That’s still all!? We have so many to watch.”

“But my work-“

“Nope. I’ll arrange for someone else to do it. We have to watch Elf. And The Santa Clause. And Frosty the Snowman. And The Polar Express! And.. so many more!” You snuggled back next to him, using the remote to pull up the first Christmas movie of the night.

He sighed, rolling his eyes playfully.

“I cannot believe you rolled your eyes!” You teased. “What have you done for 27 years without me!? Without these movies!?” He flinched. “Oh! I’m sorry,” you pushed away from him slightly. “I hadn’t realized I was hurting you.”

“No, come back.” He was POUTING. Pouting. You had never seen him pout like that. You didn’t move though. “I don’t mind it.”

You huffed at him.

“Okay.” He scooted closer to you. “If you get on the other side we can cuddle and it won’t hurt. Because it’s my good side. How about that?”

You climbed over him, sitting on his other side, resting your head on his shoulder. “Better?”

“Better,” he sighed. He grabbed your hand in his. “Now start the movie. It seems I have a lot to catch up on!”

With all the movies and excitement and you, how could he possibly go back to work?

Bye writing for Jumin is my element I was so happy writing this. Ik I write for him a lot and if I write for any character too much it’s like blah. But he rlly is my favorite character :) I love him

#mystic messenger #mysme #Jumin han #Christmas

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btsrmono · 4 years

Text

Trial & Error | chapter 1.

A/N: hey guys ik this is really random for my page but i got bored lol pls enjoy??

Main Pairing: (jimin): student/idol x (main): foreign student

Side Pairs: main x taehyung,, main x (nct) jaehyun

CHAPTER 1

"I still can't believe you're moving."

You sighed, leaning your head on your boyfriend's shoulder. "Don't remind me."

It had been a month since your parents had told you about the big move and school would be starting the next week, which is when you'd be moving.

Ryan lied his hand on your thigh as he squeezed it a bit. "I was thinking, you know," he started, "since you're moving and all... y/n, don't you think it'd be better if we--"

You already knew where this was going. "Break up?" you finished for him. He didn't say anything, causing you to chuckle a bit. "It's alright," you told him. "I've been thinking the same thing."

"You have?"

You took your head off of his shoulder, looking him in the eyes. "Yeah. I mean, it only makes sense, right? What would be the purpose of staying together?" You gave him a small smile of which he returned. You and Ryan had only been together for 5 months, not really making it a big deal.

"You know I care about you, right?"

"Yes," you confirmed. "Same goes here. Just because we're 'ending this', doesn't mean we're ending us. I'll still keep in contact with you and check up here and there."

Smiling at you, he stuck his pinky finger out. "Promise?"

You quickly interlocked your pinky with his. "Promise."

Turns out, saying your goodbyes to your friends wasn't the hard part. You already knew this was going to be a problem but you had been in Korea for over two hours and still had yet to find someone that spoke English. You guys began to settle in your apartment with the help of moving guys, and you had decided that you wanted to take a look around, maybe buy a snack.

Little to no avail, you couldn't find many American snacks like you were expecting to, and when you did, they surely didn't taste the same. Anyway, you was trying to make your way back to your new home when you realized you didn't know where you were going. Google Maps was acting up, and you were too afraid to attempt the Korean you actually did know with local natives. Therefore, you tried to ask, using as much broken English as you could to make it simple on them. However, they weren't very helpful but at least they all seemed nice. You thought maybe if you made one more attempt, you could have hit the jackpot. "Uh, excuse me sir."

The older man stopped in his tracks and stared at you. "Uh... Yes?" He asked, sounding quite nervous.

Right then and there, just from his tone, you knew he wasn't going to be much useful. You politely smiled. "Never mind." You bowed and he went on with his day. Ugh, why were you so scared to speak Korean. You were actually pretty good at it at some point due to your childhood best friend, Shi Ah. Practically her sister, you two were around each other all the time and you easily picked up the language. It was fun because you guys would always say things about people with them right there without them knowing what you two were speaking about.

But, unfortunately, Shi Ah had to move to China Freshman year due to a job opportunity for her journalist parents. The goodbye was extremely hard but you both eventually moved on, you becoming best friends with Mariana and Riley, her doing God knows what. You even fell out of touch so you had no idea what she’d been up to the past few years. It was sad but it quickly became your new normal.

Anyway, you knew, eventually you were going to have to get over your fear of speaking Korean but until then, you sighed and took in the scenery surrounding you to see if anything looked familiar, but nope. You stood there, deciding that maybe it was time to call a parent. As you went to dial your moms number, you suddenly become very distracted.

"Lost?" you heard a voice say.

You looked up from your phone to the girl that now stood in front of you. "You speak English?" you stupidly asked. The girl laughed. "I'm sorry," you apologized, realizing how rude you probably sounded.

"Don't be, it's understandable. What can I help you with though?" The girl was really pretty. She had perfect skin with long blonde hair and bangs that made her wide eyes stand out.

You let out a breath, looking down at your phone. "I need help getting back home."

She giggled. "Already? Come on." She then proceed to walk ahead of you as you, confusingly, followed.

"But wait, you haven't even asked where I live."

"Its alright, we're in the same neighborhood. I saw you earlier," she explained. It then made sense. However, you had not seen her. The girl was gorgeous, you must admit, so you would have remembered seeing her.

"So we're neighbors," you stated.

"Yup."

"What's your name?"

Still walking, she looked back at you and smiled. "Jinsoul. But my English speaking friends call me Zoè. Say which ever you'd like."

You nodded, repeating her name in your head a few times. A habit you picked up in order to remember people’s names.

"And you?" she asked.

"Y/n."

"That’s pretty," she complemented you. “It’ll be hard to forget.”

Only a short block later, you guys were back into the neighborhood. "Thank you so much," you said as you began to reach your doorstep. "I owe you."

After exchanging numbers, she informed you that she only lived a corner away from you and that if you ever needed anything, you could just ask.

______

The next day, you were starting school. You walked around the corner and saw your mom in the kitchen cooking breakfast. You knew that your Dad didn't leave the house until 9 am. "Morning, Mom," you greeted her.

She turned away from the pancakes she was in the middle of making and smiled at you. "Y/n! Morning baby, are you excited for school?"

You shrugged your shoulders while smirking as you placed your back pack on the kitchen island table. "I guess. I don't really know what to expect though."

"Well if there's any advice I can give you, it's : Don't stress. Seriously, it'll make everything go wrong."

Instead of a reply, you sighed, still feeling sleepy. "Why are you up so early?" you asked her.

She then proceeded back to making the pancakes. "For you."

"Oh no, you didn't need to do that, Mom. I'm about to leave out."

She looked at you with a confused expression on her face. "Well then what are you going to eat?"

"There's a store around the block, I was just gonna grab a quick snack and head to the school early."

"Early?" she wondered.

You shook your head. "Yup. Want to get my schedule 100 percent accurate and get a mini tour of the building before it gets too crowded." Your mom kind of smirked, looking at you from the side of her eyes. You giggled. "What?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing, it's just nice seeing you be responsible and positive on the first day. I know you didn't exactly picture your senior year to go this way but I just want you to make the best of it and I think you're off to a good start so far, sweetie."

You smiled. She was right, you guess. You did feel very out of place but not in a bad way exactly. You'd rather be home but you weren’t. You were in Seoul, South Korea and what would you be able to do about it? Nothing. So why not do what you can and make it a good experience rather than a negative?

She then turned the stove off and fully looked at you. "Get going. Have a nice day of school!"

As soon as you left the apartment building, you saw the girl from the day before walking in your direction. She beamed widely at your appearance. "Y/n!" she yelled.

You gave her a gentle smile, waiting for her to catch up with you. Once she did, you both continued walking together. "You look nice for your first day."

"Thanks, you look nice too!"

You started to think that she was also going to the store. So you both walked in silence for a little bit until you arrived there. The bell dinged on the door as she opened it. The older cashier man looked at you strangely. She noticed this. "Don't mind him," she said. "He does this to everyone."

You shook your head understandingly. "Okay."

She went over to the fridge section and grabbed banana milk, as did you, then a pack of peanuts and you went up to pay for your stuff while she was still looking. Once she was done, you two stepped back out into the hot heat. Only a few moments later, a group of three good looking guys showed up, talking amongst themselves as they headed to school as well in their uniforms. This made you believe you were getting closer to the bus stop.

On the side of you, you heard Jinsoul let out a slight laugh, making you turn to her. She was looking at the boys. Next thing you knew, they were looking back at her and walking over towards you guys. "A-are they coming over here?" you stuttered.

"Looks like it," she replied cooley, a small smirk glued to her face.

You quickly gave your hair a little fix as you both suddenly stopped walking, waiting for the boys to join.

"Yah, Jinsoul!", one of them said. He continued to speak in Korean as you zoned out, worried about if they would try to speak to you too. Sooner or later, you heard your name being said by Jinsoul and the boys all kind of glanced your way, throwing you off track.

They eventually turned their attention back to Jinsoul, continuing their conversation. All except the one boy, whom was the most adorable of them all. He blankly stared at you, his eyes even squinting a bit.

You shifted one foot to the other as you looked down at the pavement, slightly uncomfortable with this. You then heard him laugh and when you looked back up, he was smiling at you. You nervously smiled back before he finally went back to paying attention to Jinsoul. They spoke in some more Korean.

After a good minute or two passed, you heard them saying goodbye, the cutest one being the only one to wave at you. Once they were out of ear shot, you turned to Jinsoul. "Uh, Jinsoul?"

"Hm?" she wondered, nonchalantly.

"Who were they?"

She laughed loudly before covering her mouth quickly. "Really?" she asked. "You really don't know who they are?"

Of course you didn't know who they were, why was she expecting you to? You tilted your head slightly. "I mean, I'm not from here," you explained.

"True." She began to walk again, you following. "They're all idols."

"Idols?" you wondered. "As in?"

"As in 'famous', y/n."

You slightly hesitated, letting this new profound information soak into your brain. "Famous as in?"

"They sing. Dance. Rap. They're idols. K-pop idols."

You knew of K-pop, you looked it up upon arriving to Seoul but were no expert at it and of course the only people you ever even slightly heard of were Psy, Exo and Got7. Other than that, you were completely ignorant to the Korean pop industry. "Are they all in the same group?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Two of them are. The other one, aka, my friend, is still a trainee, which means he hasn't debuted yet but he's training to."

"Interesting." You walked a few more seconds in silence until you absolutely had to ask their names. Specifically for the one guy.

She deviously smiled, already knowing what was up your sleeve. "I see what you're doing," she stated. "But if you insist. My friend's name is Bae Joon Young. We call him Jacob. The other one is Kim Taehyung and the one that you seem interested in is Park Jimin."

"Jimin," you repeated. "But wait. If they're all famous, why were they in uniform to go to school?"

"Because they have to," she told you. "They all made an agreement that if they ever dropped out of school, they are eligible to be dropped from their company. Plus Taehyung and Jimin just debuted so they have to listen to their company right now. It's a pretty logical idea if I do say so myself."

You guys finally arrived at the bus stop and she explained to you what you would do after being released at the first stop. You both went to different schools. While you went to a Foreign school, she attended a performing arts school with a ton of other inspiring and/or famous people.

Of course you saw the boys again at the bus stop but they did not bother you guys this time, instead, they met up with their other friends that were also at the bus stop. The bus eventually pulled up around 7:30am and everyone got on board. Since both schools were basically right across from each other, all students got off at the same spot too. The only difference is that you and about two other students had to walk an extra block before actually getting to the International school. Once you finally arrived there, you took a deep breath and headed inside.

A/N: Bruh, I’m sorry this chapter was so BORING but it was the 1st. It should get a lil more interesting moving forward since we got most introductions out of the way. More Jimin to come next chapter!

ALSO: I’ll be putting a gif of a main character each chapter at the end! For this chapter, we have Jinsoul, the friendly neighbor and school bus buddy!

STAY TUNED

PART 2

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losthunx · 4 years

Text

something edited.

The light filtered in, it’s warm glow settling upon your cheekbone. The sun had been rising later and later each day with the apocalypse coming closer. Although, with everything going to shit, that didn’t quite matter to me. The sun always found you. I knew it’d never leave you alone. I knew it would seek you during every waking hour it had, because it loved you, and it’d never stop loving you. It was drawn to you, even in your sleep. As you slumber, i watch the sun cast it’s rays onto you, as if to say “Wake up. The time for slumber has long passed.” Your nose scrunches in response, and with a sleepy sigh, your eyes open. A sleepy smile graces your lips, and somehow, the world stops in its tracks. When i’d first met you i’d noticed your energy. It was a burning, bright thing that melted my defenses away. It claimed the space in my heart with a swan-like grace, and a soft kind of comfort that'd I'd never expect. I loved you in silence yet, I also loved you louder than anyone i have loved before. I thought you’d be something comforting and warm to bask in, until the clouds came back and solitude found me again. I was wrong. You were so much more. You were the brightness and the darkness, both warm to the touch and no longer terrifying. You were death and life, happiness and bone crushing sadness, dramatism and minimalism. You were everything i thought I’d never need to experience. Yet, here I am laying next to you in a lone bed we'd found next to this abandoned building. We'd run from The End, when it first appeared. The feeling of everything falling apart was something we couldn't handle. So, instead of handling it, we pretended it never existed. We skipped town at the first chance we got, and pretended that we were headed to a resort. Like, somehow if we dreamed hard enough, it'd come true. But running doesn't stop the arrival of the things we didn't like, it only fooled us into thinking we were in control. I gaze into your eyes, and feel my lips split into the brightest half moon I could manage. Looking into your eyes was gazing into life’s deepest secrets and finding the beauty within them. The warmth of your soul feels like a hazy afternoon standing in front of your kitchen doorway. An afternoon that leads to the warmth your mother’s hands on your shoulder, the other above your head. It’s the softness of that hand and the aroma of the food it played part in making. It’s the gooey feeling inside your chest; warm like chocolate chip cookies. I say all this to say: Darling, your soul feels like growth. Life changing, bursting growth. And as i stare growth in its face, in love with every growing pain, you open your mouth and- “Baby? You ok?” a chuckle, and then, “You’re kinda staring baby boy.” The world comes rushing back. I nod, brushing the hair off your forehead, before leaning down to plant a kiss on the unnatural warmth there. Pulling you closer, I mumble into your skin, “Fine, babe. Always fine when I’m with you. “ I pull back from your embrace, eyes teary before crushing you in my arms again. “Love of my life. That’s what you are. “ Your nose brushes against my chest as your head tilts heaven-ward. Big eyes blink back at me, love wrapping around your irises. A stretch of silence follows as we stare at each other, and then, “We have a month, you know.” Those words vibrate against my throat, as I continue to run my hands through your hair, hoping for a quiet death. Quiet, but full of love as the leaves fall in October. My answer comes late, but it still comes. Soft, and truthful, and finally tired of running. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” My nails scratch against your scalp as the lighting brightens, before deepening. My lips find your forehead, and press against it with fervor. A pleased hiss resonates in the air. I pull back, glancing at your lips. At how sweet-looking they are, at how enticing they are. Before I know it, I find myself leaning forward to reach your lips. When we connect, my heart picks up an extra beat before smoothing into the same soothing beat it’d been before. This kiss, held every insecurity I couldn't voice, and the hope that somehow, on your lips, it'd speak volumes. We separate a few seconds later, and somehow the room somehow feels a little warmer. My hand traces a line from your hair to your nape, and then caresses it’s way to the skin of your collarbone. “Is there anything else you wanna do, before next month? October, I mean. I mean, you know what I mean.” I stumble over my words. The End was next month. Still, thinking of the end as The End was harsh. So, without much questioning we’d taken to calling it October. After all, it was a little more comforting to turn "The End" into memories of pumpkin spice lattes, chilly weather, and carnivals. Your breath hitches, and I swear that if your body wasn’t pressed to mine, I’d completely miss it. “No. I hope we never see October.” It spills out of your mouth like black ink on parchment paper. You close your eyes and bury deeper into my chest. “I’m gonna miss this when it’s done. Don’t know where I’ll be...but I’ll miss it anyway.” The words twist at my insides until I can feel nausea rising to the surface. “Yeah. Me too, darling. Me too.” I sigh and run my hands along your back in an attempt to comfort you. You let out a slow breath as the tears you were trying to hide behind your eyelids come rushing forward. Slowly at first, and then much faster. Your shoulders start to shake and barely audible croaks sound from your throat. I lift your chin so I can kiss it. While there, I bury my head into your neck and rest my lips on your neck. I knew for a fact it soothed you, so i layed there, feeling your pulse against my lips and having the urge to hold it in my mouth. I’d take good care of it. I’d let it live in my mouth and be intimate with all the words I could never fully articulate. As retribution for taking your pulse, I’d give you mine, and live within the warmth of the best person I’d ever known. In another world this fantasy of mine could be real. But, this world is the way it is, and no amount of praying, and begging, and hoping can erase it’s issues. (I’ve tried, and it never worked. The first time I prayed to a god I didn't believe in; begging on my knees with hands outstretched, was for her. And ever since then, the only way I can force my tongue to give devotion to a god who never cared, is for her.) I began to hum a song I knew she loved in hopes of soothing her and getting her to go back to sleep. After all, her strength was fading, as was everyone’s strength here. As her health further deteriorated, her skin seemed to cling to her bones. Before long her hands had begun to shake, and her breath began to slip out of her control like elusive wind. Simply put, the world was tearing everything apart, and it had started with her. I tighten my hands around her skinny frame, and find myself begging to whatever god would listen. “Don’t take her without me, don’t leave me alone! If she has to die, take me with her. I’m not needed here, you don’t need me. Just don’t... let her go on her own. “ And as the sun (which i hadn’t even noticed was doing her last dance across the planes of the sky, until now.) said her small farewells, I felt a warmth race down my spine. A warmth that signified, that at the very least, she shouldn’t be on her own when it was her time to go. Whether that be now, next week, the next week, or in October. That small consolation was enough to remove the shake from my hands (that i also didn’t notice was happening, wow. That’s weird, right?) like it’d never been there. My hands caress her back, and i watch as her breath lifts and rises in a synchronized dance that signified sleep. With a last squeeze to her body, I move her away from me and tuck her deeper into the bed. She needs all the sleep she can get. I exit the bed, and put on my hunting coat. I grab my hunting rifle, a switchblade, and with one last kiss to her head and a glance, I leave to collect dinner.

ik i’m not that amazing of a writer but please do not steal this :). I worked really hard on it and now i’m rlly sleepy and i dont wanna have to hunt you down and snatch my writing from ur nasty fingies. still, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy whatever I come out with next time.

#beta'd #lil prompt #but not really a prompt more like a minature story???#idk i love it #i beta'd it but it needs much much much more work so i'll probably delete it and keep editing it over and over and over again #god wish my luck with that #did u know my left eye feels like i cottonball?#god im so sleepy #have a good nights rest dreamy bears #pls take care of yourselves #thank you #ily sm #writing #writingblr

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gayglitterqueen · 5 years

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I've been having writer's block too, even WITH prompts! Ik how you feel. I'll give you a few random ideas, let me know if you can't work with them. 1. one of them (probably Crowley tbh) decides to present feminine for the day 2. Snake Crowley in the bookshop 3. Aziraphale is given a plant 4. sleepy snuggles 5. escaping danger and then making out lol 6. domestic kitchen fluff 7. Anathema visits (because I love her)

OkAy, first of all, how dare you??? give me so many good prompts??? I love these all and I can't fit them all here how DARE. But, seriously, thank you so much!! These are just what I needed. And I really did love them all, so I think I’m going to do more than one and make separate posts for them. I’ll put the first one on this ask but I guess for the rest I can just tag you if you’re okay with that? Thanks again!!!

Sleepy Snuggles

Touch is not a concept that exists in Heaven, not between Angels. Everything is spaced out, the walls, the ceiling, the interactions. Enough space for your wings, they used to say, but now hardly anyone keeps their wings out as they walk the barren halls of offices. An accidental brush up against someone will get you, at best, an odd look. You can walk dozens of halls and only see one or two Angels and never get close to any of them. Once upon a time, Heaven used to feel full, just for a moment, but that was six thousand years ago and now the sleek white offers little comfort that used to exist in the old days.

Aziraphale is not up to date on Hell’s policy of touch and he knows it’s something that Crowley isn’t eager to talk about. The tense up of his shoulders, the way he turns his whole body away from Aziraphale (the only time he does that), how if they’re drinking he downs his glass in a go and miracles up another. An off-topic question.

From his brief time in Hell, Aziraphale knows it is the complete opposite of Heaven. It’s not like he got the grand tour while in Crowley’s body, but he had seen enough. Walked the suffocating halls where no matter which way you turned you were pressed against Demons from all angles. The air was thick, dirt covered everything, and wondering hands grabbed at him as he walked past but they grabbed at everyone and everything because there was no room to do much else.

So, very different.

If Aziraphale had to spend much more time down there he supposes he would adopt a sort of aversion to touch. Sometimes it feels like Crowley has himself.

Crowley is a cuddler, something Aziraphale learned early on in their post-Almost-Apocalypse life. He likes to burrow and cling and press himself against Aziraphale. He also can’t do it for more than a certain amount of time before he starts shuddering and has to get up and move to the opposite end of the room for twice as long.

Aziraphale has adjusted because he Loves Crowley and that’s what you do, but after thousands of years of being suffocated by Heaven’s unwritten no-touch policy Aziraphale has found himself craving these moments Crowley gives them. So, he lets Crowley go when Crowley needs it, but almost immediately he feels the need to pull Crowley back into his arms.

He never does. The idea of pushing this need on Crowley when he is so clearly uncomfortable with it makes Aziraphale slightly nauseous.

It’s been a learning curve. For both of them. Learning when and how long and where they can touch and who is okay with what. Aziraphale not pushing and Crowley doing his best.

Currently, it’s nearing midnight in London. Outside a blizzard is growing and the streets are, as rarely as it happens, empty in the storm. Inside, Aziraphale sits on his couch with a cup of cocoa next to him and a book in hand. His fireplace, which he always miracles up once the weather starts turning, is roaring loud and hot, perfect for a night like this. He lets it illuminate his reading.

The creaking of the stairs is loud in the otherwise silent night, but Aziraphale doesn’t look up, he doesn’t have to. Instead, he just turns a page and watches Crowley approach out of the corner of his eye.

Crowley, who had decided to go to bed several hours ago, looks like he’s just woken up. His hair is askew on one side, standing up straight giving him an appearance similar to a chicken. He’s still in his black pajamas and the duvet from their bed is swung over his shoulders, making him look terribly soft in a way Aziraphale knows he can never tell him.

Silence continues as Crowley climbs on to the opposite end of the couch and curls up, wrapping himself in the duvet. It’s been miracled black and Aziraphale knows by morning it will be back to its dusty creme color.

The need to hold Crowley is like an itch, just under Aziraphale’s skin. The tips of his fingers tingle and his whole body feels like it heats up a degree or so. As if a magnet draws them together, Aziraphale can feel himself lean slightly towards Crowley before catching himself. They had already cuddled right before bed, he reminds himself. If Crowley wants to be touched then he will come to Aziraphale.

It isn’t until Aziraphale has made it through the rest of his chapter that Crowley moves again. This startles him, just a little, but only because he assumed that Crowley had fallen back asleep. Apparently not the case, Crowley slowly moves until he’s stretched out against the sofa, the hint of his blanketed shoulder brushing Aziraphale’s.

They both know this dance, but only Crowley knows how it will end.

Aziraphale holds his breath and waits. He doesn’t bother to try continuing the book, knowing that it’s a fruitless endeavor with Crowley right there. Focusing on anything but Crowley when he’s around has been an impossible task as of recently. And as of most of their history, but that is a fact Aziraphale is much more reluctant to admit.

Slowly, ever so slowly as a slithering snake, Crowley continues to lean forward until he’s pressed against Aziraphale’s arm. He gives a little wiggle and automatically Aziraphale moves his arm so Crowley can slip under it and press himself into Aziraphale’s side.

Outside the weather is warm, so naturally so is Crowley. Even with all the layers in the world, Crowley is always cold during the winter, but right now Aziraphale’s side feels as if it’s on fire. The top of Crowley’s hair tickles his neck and his heart stutters when Crowley tilts his head to rest against where he can best hear its beat.

Not wanting to startle him, Aziraphale gently reaches up and places his hand on Crowley’s head. Crowley lets out a sigh and lets his eyes flutter shut. As good of a yes and Aziraphale knows he’ll get out of him, he starts to card his fingers through Crowley’s hair.

“Can’t sleep without you,” Crowley mutters, the only explanation he’s going to give for the night.

“Hmm.” Aziraphale hums in agreement with a soft smile.

It doesn’t take long for Crowley to doze off again. Aziraphale can feel the way his body relaxes and sinks into him when it happens. When Aziraphale tires of petting Crowley’s hair he moves his arm to rest along the curve of Crowley’s body, burrowing under the blanket to find Crowley’s hand and twine their fingers together.

By the time the fire has started to die down, Aziraphale is fast asleep as well, still holding Crowley’s hand.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens prime #my writing #good omens fic #prompt fic #sundry-whovengerslocked

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