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pippytmi · 3 years ago

Note

Roommates au, enemies to lovers, “you confuse me.” Supercorp obvs

“You’re a fucking liar.”

This is—objectively speaking—not the worst greeting Kara has ever received from her roommate, and so she takes it in stride. “Uh, hello to you…too,” Kara says slowly, silently running through a list of everything she could have done wrong to warrant such strong words.

But Lena does not offer any explanation; in fact, when she spots Kara in the doorway, she sends her a nasty glare as if Kara has said something wrong. “Don’t pretend you’re a saint in this matter, Lex,” Lena hisses, and only then does Kara notice the cell phone in Lena’s hands. “If I have to go and clean up your mess again…”

So it’s one of those days. Kara wisely shuts the door quietly behind her, and sneaks into the kitchen as Lena takes her argument into her room.

There is a list of chores pinned to the fridge—four black X’s cross out Lena’s, and Kara’s are underlined twice. They have a code, so as to avoid speaking to each other; X’s mean done, underlined means Kara you're a slob and a pain in the ass to live with. (All verbatim, by the way.)

The dishes, however, are not on Kara’s agenda at the moment. She instead takes the expensive whiskey hidden under the sink (that belongs to Alex, not that she has noticed it’s missing), and pours it into a glass with some ice. Then she whips out the ingredients for a stir fry, complete with every vegetable she had been saving for the potluck at work this weekend.

It is an unspoken rule that Lena will shut herself off into her room after this phone call is over. She does that every time her brother calls (and on occasion her mother), and Kara has picked up enough information about her roommate to know Lena will appreciate a hard drink and some food. She hasn’t said so or anything, but every time Kara knocks three times on the door and leaves a plate outside, it will re-emerge an hour later completely empty.

Lena’s voice grows louder despite the distance, and Kara turns on the stereo out of respect for her roommate's privacy. Lena hates the stereo and all it stands for; she argues it is outdated, and they have numerous pieces of technology that are less bulky and fully able to connect to radio stations. But Kara keeps it around anyway, because she still likes buying CD’s (and maybe to bother Lena, which is a bonus).

Blink-182 is playing on that alternative station Alex likes. Kara cranks it up as she cooks, singing under her breath as she sautes bell peppers and onions, ignoring the rumble of her stomach and the tight belt of her work pants still digging into her hips. “Say it ain’t so, I will not go,” she practically yells, poking her head into the fridge for the tofu that Lena always keeps. Kara personally won’t touch the stuff, but Lena is trying to eat less meat. It cuts up easily enough, even though Kara isn’t sure what the proper technique is.

She leaves the finished plate and drink outside after it’s done, rapping on Lena’s door in tune with The White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army,” and then finally has some dinner herself. Since the tofu is unappetizing, Kara stores the rest of the stir fry in a container for Lena to take for lunch, and opts for a sandwich. She eats while scrolling through her notifications (she owes Nia twenty bucks, and so far Nia has been clogging up her phone with Venmo requests all well over $500), and keeps the radio on just for background noise.

That’s probably why she doesn’t even notice when Lena approaches; Kara has barely begun to type a text to Nia swearing to bring some cash next time she visits when a sharp voice declares,

“You confuse me.”

Which. Is not at all what Kara expected from her usually empty kitchen. And, caught exceptionally off guard, she nearly falls off her chair. “What the—Lena,” she sputters, righting herself. Unfortunately, the crust of her sandwich is a casualty of the surprise, and she watches as it crumples devastatingly on the floor.

Lena is not half as concerned about the fate of her dinner, and she stalks forward to jab a finger at Kara’s chest. “You confuse me,” she repeats.

Kara blinks. Then blinks again. “Um, okay,” she says. “…why?”

A strange, strangled noise rises from Lena’s mouth, and she appears angrier than Kara has ever seen. (Well, except for that one time that Kara did laundry and flooded the apartment laundromat, which had other pissed off tenants leaving mean messages for two weeks straight). “Because,” angrier-than-usual Lena says, “you do shit like cook food for me and don’t even say anything.”

“What do you want me to say?” Kara frowns, not sure where this conversation is going. “If you want I can start saying ‘Hey Lena, I made dinner’ every time.”

“You and I don’t do dinner,” Lena says, and it sounds like an accusation. “Every time I get off the phone, you decide to leave food outside my door. Why? What on Earth compels you to do that?”

“Because you’re always upset afterwards,” Kara says slowly. “And I thought you could use some cheering up, or at least a drink.”

“Whiskey,” Lena notes. “It’s always whiskey. And it’s never a cheap brand.”

“Well, yeah,” Kara says, gesturing pointedly to Lena’s designer work clothes (that she never seems to be without; Kara’s not sure Lena even owns pajamas). “You would probably accuse me of poisoning you if I gave you anything less.”

Lena narrows her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything,” she says. “So whatever this is, you can stop it.”

“What do you mean, ‘whatever this is’?” Kara repeats incredulously. “I’m just being nice!”

“I never asked you to be ‘nice’!”

Kara exhales, and reminds herself that it is illegal to strangle people. Especially since she is Lena’s roommate, and will therefore be suspect #1. Kara has never been a violent person, but her roommate just manages to test her limits.

“Look,” Kara says patiently, “I give you my sister’s whiskey, and she doesn’t care because she is trying to give up drinking. And I’m not a frequent cook or anything, but I can still throw together a plate because I know you don’t cook at all. That’s it! I don’t have a hidden agenda, or some secret plot here. I’m just being friendly.”

“We are not friends, Kara Danvers,” Lena says. “And I know exactly what this is, even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

God, what an insufferable—“Okay, know-it-all,” Kara says, instead of the ruder words echoing through her head. “What am I doing?”

Lena’s jaw clenches noticeably. “You pity me,” she accuses. “You look down at my relationship with my family, and—and I don’t want your sympathy, or your stupid food, anymore.”

“If you wanted me to back off, that’s fine,” Kara says, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “But I don’t pity you, or feel sorry for you. Heck, with your track record, I’d feel more sympathy for your family. They seem to be on the other end of some nasty phone calls.”

Lena’s expression darkens. “You don’t know my family.”

“I don’t know you very well, either,” Kara retorts, and she turns back to her phone where three new Venmo requests are waiting (two of them well in the thousands range; Nia must think she’s hilarious). “Message received, okay? I’ll leave you alone.”

At first, Kara assumes that's the end of it—assumes that Lena is going to stalk off, and leave a strongly worded post-it on the fridge later that night for Kara to wake up to. That has always been how their relationship works; they fight, reiterate how much they hate living together, and go right back to ignoring each other.

But Lena doesn't walk away. Instead she sighs, and at that unexpected sound Kara looks up just in time to catch Lena frowning. “I—” Lena begins, and then she pauses uncomfortably before getting the words out. “I'm...sorry. I have been having the worst day, and it’s—it’s rude of me to take it out on you.”

“Okay,” says Kara dumbly, because she’s not sure what to respond. Lena never apologizes. Ever. It’s about as rare as, well, Kara actually doing her chores on time. “Thanks?”

Lena bites her lip, glances away. “You’re welcome,” she says stiffly. And this time she leaves—leaves, and abandons the plate of food Kara left her on the edge of the table.

Kara looks down at her phone. There are ten texts waiting from Nia, and about double that of Venmo requests. But she can’t shake the feeling that she is forgetting something, and it’s more than a twenty dollar bill. “Wait,” she blurts out, “Lena. What—what does that mean? You were an asshole to me, and I was an asshole right back, so why are you apologizing?”

“Well, you are more than welcome to apologize too,” Lena says, pausing in the kitchen doorway. She has a quizzical expression on her face, a kind of raw confusion that Kara has never seen before. Without the sharp clenched jaw and the angry eyes, she’s…just a girl. A girl, with a nervous tic of wringing her fingers together. A girl, despite her guarded nature, who is gazing right back at Kara as if she has no right to.

“Do you want me to apologize to you?”

A beat. “Not really,” Lena says. “I don’t—want that. You’re right, you don’t know me. Or my family. We’re nothing to each other, and I can’t expect you to know how complicated my relationship with them is.”

“Still,” Kara says, and she scratches the back of her neck absentmindedly at the sudden flush of guilt that overtakes her. “I am sorry. It was rude of me to, um, say that. Like if your family is a bunch of serial killers, who am I to say you’re worse than that?”

Lena scrunches her nose in a manner that is sort of cute. “Serial killers? Really?”

Kara shrugs—aiming for casual—and really that just looks like attempting nonchalance when suddenly she’s consumed with thoughts about how pretty her roommate is. “Like you said,” she says, “I don’t know your family.”

And, surprisingly, all Lena does is smile. A real smile, the kind that Kara has never witnessed, barely soft and just kind enough. “They’re not,” she says, and unnecessarily clarifies, “serial killers.”

“That you know of,” Kara points out, and Lena’s cautious smile becomes something fuller. That is the only thing that gives Kara the courage to add, “So, now that we have covered the whole you’re not your family thing, are you really not going to have dinner? I cooked tofu for you and everything!”

“You didn’t have to,” Lena argues, because she is defensive to a fault. But she falters immediately after, and sighs again, albeit in a more mellowed tone. “What I meant to say is, I really don’t need you to keep cooking for me. I’m fine.”

“Well what if I want to cook for you?” Kara says, and that is her own fault: she is ready to argue to protect her (noble) intentions. “We don’t have to be friends, if it terrifies you that much—”

“It does not terrify me—”

“—but we can be friendly,” Kara offers, and it’s a testament to her newfound appreciation for her roommate that she manages to even make a sentence. “If you want.”

Lena tilts her head, considering, and this time when she smiles it is curious. “If you knew what I wanted, Kara Danvers,” she says, “your delicate sensibilities would blush to their roots.” And with that odd goodbye, she eventually takes her leave; however, she does take the plate of stir fry with her, so Kara guesses that means they’re on their way to being friendly, if anything.

#remember when quarantine started & i asked for prompts?#yeah u read that right a whole ass year ago?#well. uh. so this is embarrassing but-#supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #proudlyunicorn

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ikwhatyouaremikewheeler · 2 years ago

Text

You belong with me: Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie finds Steve after he and Nancy broke up. So naturally he comforts him.

But after a few months; how do they feel about one another?

Note: yes this is after the Taylor Swift song, no the lyrics aren't accurate. This is an idea I had at 2:00 am last night, Enjoy!

Warning: Arguments, mentions of drinking, some angst idk?? A small spoiler for season 4, timeline doesn't make sense. And Typical period homophobia

'You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset. She's going off about something that you said. she doesn't understand your humor like I do.'

There were hushed whispers from one of the bathrooms, where Steve and Nancy were talking; with the infamous 'Its bullshit' speech. "Wait—wait. You.. don't love me?" Was all Steve could seem to say, he was shocked, of course they had only been together for a year, but the fact that Nancy said they had to 'Act like they were in love' stung. He did love Nancy, he was in love with her. He didn't have to pretend. "It's bullshit." Was all she had said, before she opened the door and walked out, disappearing into the ever growing crowd, leaving Steve alone in the bathroom.

'Im in my room, it's a typical Tuesday night, I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like. And she'll never know you're story like I do.'

Eddie walked into the bathroom, mainly to just be alone. There were too many people for his liking, not that he'd talk to them anyway. Stopping in the doorway infront of the ever do popular Steve Harrington, eyes red and puffy from crying, his face burning red. "Jesus Harrington, what happened to you? Did your keg record get beaten or something?" He was obviously joking, trying to make him at least feel a little better, maybe crack a smile. Which didn't end up working.

"it's stupid.. and nothing you need to know about so- y'know fuck off" Eddie shrugged and turned on his heel, before turning back around to close the door, Leaning onto the Sink counter. He hadn't ever talked to Steve before, but hey, he looked upset and really drunk. So why not? He could at least try to help "Okay but honestly, did you get to drunk or something? Or did something happen with Wheeler? I mean I saw her run off with- the byers dude" Steve's head whipped up, quickly wiping his eyes and trying to at least look presentable before putting o his sunglasses. "It's just bullshit is all. Nothing you need to worry about.. Munson"

'She wears short skirts, I wear T shirts, she's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find the one you're looking for has been here the whole time.'

After a few weeks, which then turned into months, Eddie and Steve had become friends. Which was an unlikely pair, but Steve needed a shoulder to lean on, and Eddie.. just needed more friends in general. So they said Hi to each other in the halls, hung out after school, the usual thing to do. Of course Eddie might have been hiding the fact that he had a huge crush on Steve, but it was nothing if not normal, especially since He had just gotten out of a relationship with a GIRL.

But he'd push it aside, Steve could always find someone else, like Tammy Thompson, or Carol whatever her last name is. So he'd push his feelings aside. Steve on the other hand, was oblivious to his feelings Towards Eddie, if he'd be caught staring too long, he'd play it off as anything else. The thoughts of Eddie in the back of head his head; playing on repeat all night.

How soft his hair looked, how pretty his eyes were, how pretty he was in general. All of it was confusing to him. But he wouldn't dare tell anyone about it, with his luck he'd end up at PennHurst with Victor Kreel as his Roommate.

'if you could see I'm the one who understands you, been here all along so why can't you see? You belong with me'

Steve was walking around Hawkins with Eddie, mainly just to talk, and because they had no other plans yet. Trying to think of what to do, it wasn't boring, just quieter than usual, definitely not normal. "Okay so I was talking to Dustin right? He says something about this girl who he likes and is like 'Oh I wanna ask her to the dance!' and I have to give him credit for being that Ballsy to do that."

Eddie nodded, he had heard A LOT, about all the kids Steve hung out with, which really seemed to be his only friends, so he wouldn't say anything about it, plus it wasn't that weird. " I don't understand how you're friends with literally 12 year olds. Not to mention Sassy ones."

Steve rolled his eyes and bumped into Eddie's shoulder as they walked, eventually getting to the park as they sat down for a bit, talking amongst themselves. "it's easier than it looks."

'Walk in the park with you and your worn out jeans, can't help thinking this is how it oughta be, laughing on a park bench thinking to myself, "hey isn't this easy?" '

After a bit of sitting at the park, they had finally decided on a plan; watching The first Star Wars at Eddie's place. Which was mainly Eddie's plan, but Steve had no objections, walking back with him with a grin.

A grin that if Eddie could say himself could probably make anyone swoon, even Himself. "Okay but seriously, how do you deal with 6 teenagers? I couldn't deal with one-" Steve shrugged after a minute, glancing over with a still apparent grin. "gets easier after Trauma bonding, believe me. A lot easier"

'Cause you've got a smile that could light up this town, haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down. you say you're fine I know you better than that. Hey where'd you find a girl like that?'

Once they had gotten back to Eddie's trailer, they had sat down on the couch, rewinding the tape and starting it from the beginning. Eddie wasn't actually paying attention, he had been telling Steve about small behind the scene facts; while Steve listened to them and nodded, offering small commentary.

"So.. what's your opinion on.. y'know the whole Nancy thing?" Steve questioned, filling in the comfortable silence with the question, which hung heavy in the air. Eddie simply shrugged, taking a sip of his drink and looking over. "honestly dude? I think Wheeler is way out of your league, and maybe you should y'know... Not cruise around for more girls?"

'She wears high heels and I wear sneakers, she's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find the one you've been looking for has been here the whole time.'

Steve nodded, not saying for a quick beat; looking over at him once more, which a small grin. "Yeah I guess you're right. I mean I'm over her- definitely over her. But I think that.. maybe I like someone else, I dunno." Eddie nodded slowly, his usually smile crossing his face, trying to make his voice seem not sarcastic, or hurt as he muttered.

"oh that's great, I'm sure she's wonderful." Steve nodded after a moment, the words not fully sinking in, of course he didn't like a girl, he liked Eddie. He had tried to make it as obvious as possible, giving him extra sweet smiles, initiating physical contact, subtly flirting with him. He didn't know what else to do. So at the end of the night, as usual. He went home. "so I'll see you tomorrow?" Eddie asked hopefully, he had Invited Steve to come watch a show from his band. To which Steve had agreed "Yeah, I'll be there. Don't worry."

Steve had shown up like he said he would, cheering on Eddie and his band The 'Corroded Coffin'. It wasn't his taste in music, but he was glad to do so. He had to leave after though, even with promising to go he couldn't exactly force himself to go see Eddie afterwards, not after what had happened last night. It was several hours after that now, and Steve was in his car.

Parked in front of Eddie's house, just sitting in his car. He knew he had to say something to Eddie, about how he wasn't in love with a girl, but in love with him. How it had terrorized him got months, the thought of it ruining whatever had gone on in the bathroom at that Halloween party. Eventually he got out, knocking on the door, to reveal Eddie, half asleep, his Hellfire shirt messily hanging off one shoulder and his jeans with the chains twisted. "Harrington? What the hell are you doing here this late?" He grumbled before stepping out of the way so he could walk in, watching as he just stood there. "listen— you said something about me liking a girl last night and I wanted to clarify- I don't like a girl. It's just.. it's a dude that I like and I don't want that changing anything between us—" Steve cut himself off to take a breath, looking at Eddie who had an Amused look on his face, nodding slowly and closing the door.

"well hot damn, King Steve isn't so straight after all. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." He muttered, acting like he was zipping his lips together and throwing a key. Which made Steve snort, before shaking his head and resting his hands on Eddie's shoulders, so they would technically be close. "no- no not like just some dude, I mean like... you. I like you, Eddie."

' standing by and waiting at your back door. All this time, how could you not know baby? You belong with me.'

Eddie blinked a few times, shaking his head like he was clearing Stupor from it. Then looking at Steve with an Eyebrow raised, his face red. Of course he liked him back, but somewhere in the back of his mind told him Steve was joking, that he was still heartbroken, and Eddie was what he clung onto to get over Nancy.

"No you don't, listen- I'm glad you know what you like- but just because I'm outed as the local queer doesn't mean that you like ME. You can like anyone else, not just me because I helped you through whatever that was a few months ago-" Steve shook his head, quickly; almost too quickly and he removed his hands from Eddie's shoulders, now to cup his face. "no. No I don't think you understand- I like you. Not because you helped me, but because you're you." He mumbled, his face flushed with embarrassment as he looked away, before Eddie nodded once again, for what seemed like the umpteenth time; a hand slowly reaching to behind Steve, resting on the back of his head.

The cool metallic rings that still sat in his fingers, burning into Steve's scalp, igniting a fire in his head, his whole body. After what seemed like hours, their lips were finally pressed together, Eddie's free hand resting onto Steve's hip, trying to pull him closer. Like Steve was his oxygen, and he'd die without him, without kissing him.

'You belong with me. Oh I remember driving to your house in the middle of the night.'

Once Eddie had pulled away, Steve burst into a small fit of laughter, hands still cupping Eddie's face. "So.. we both like each other?" He asked after a minute, and Eddie rolled his eyes half heartedly, shaking his head. "No, no I just go around Kissing guys in my spare time. Obviously you idiot."

'Im the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry.'

Eddie had gotten a call from Steve, which was absolutely heartbreaking, he had come out to his parents. Well really only his dad, since his mother had left the table before he could even finish his sentence; it hadn't gone well from what he had heard. So he had rushed over right away, sneaking in through Steve's window, as usual.

Sitting next to him on the bed, trying to comfort him as best as possible. Steve was absolutely heartbroken, laying there with his arms around his boyfriend, sniffling into his shoulder. "I just.. I dunno I thought they'd be okay with it.." Eddie nodded, rubbing patterns onto his back as he sighed, planting a small kiss onto Steve's forehead"Okay well parents are dicks.. and if you want, you could come stay with me?" He offered, to Which Steve had quickly agreed, at least until everything had died down.

'I know you're favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams. I think I know where you belong.'

Steve had Stayed with Eddie for a bit, and they spent their nights cuddling, watching movies; going on dates, all the things they could. Eddie would tell Steve stupid stories about the hellfire club, and Steve would listen. He had no damn clue what he was talking about, but Eddie looked so excited, so he'd listen. And everything had worked out, Steve had found someone to love, and Eddie.. had found a friend, and a boyfriend in the same person.

'I think I know it's with me. can't you see that I'm the one who understands? Been here along, so why can't you see? You belong with me.'

'Standing by and waiting at your back door all this time, how could you not know baby? You belong with me.'

'You belong with me.'

THE END

#steve harrington #st4 #eddie munson #gay #steddie #eddie munson fanfiction

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ncssian · 3 years ago

Text

A Favor: Part Twenty-One

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.

***

The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?

The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.

By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.

Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.

Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.

“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”

Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”

“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.

“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.

Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.

Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.

“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”

As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.

Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.

Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.

“What?”

“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.

“I agree, but—”

Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”

Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”

He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.

Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”

He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.

Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.

***

Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.

“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”

“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”

When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.

Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.

Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.

“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”

“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”

“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.

“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”

A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.

“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”

Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.

Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”

“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”

“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”

“Guys!” Nesta snaps.

Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”

Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”

“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”

Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”

“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.

“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”

“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”

“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.

“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”

“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”

“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.

Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”

“But it’s what he’ll think.”

“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.

Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”

“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”

“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”

Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.

“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”

Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.

Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”

Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”

“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”

Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”

“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”

“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.

There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”

Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.

In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.

When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.

“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.

“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.

A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”

Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.

Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”

“I can hear you,” Azriel says.

“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”

“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.

“So can I,” Emerie nods.

“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”

Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”

“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”

She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”

“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”

Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”

She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.

God, having friends sucks.

Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”

***

Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.

Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”

“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.

“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.

“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”

“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.

“What tone?” Cassian repeats.

Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”

“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”

“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.

“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”

She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”

But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?

He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.

Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.

Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.

“What are you doing?” Nesta says.

“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”

Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.

Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.

“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.

Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”

“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”

Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”

Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.

Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”

Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.

Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.

Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.

“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”

Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.

“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.

“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.

Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”

Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.

When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.

Az starts, “What a fake little—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”

Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.

“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.

Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.

“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”

Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”

Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”

He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.

“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.

“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.

Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.

“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.

“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.

“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.

Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.

Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”

Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”

Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”

Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”

Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”

“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”

That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.

Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.

God, sometimes having friends sucks.

***

a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland

#ncssianwrites #a favor #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #nessian fanfic #nessian au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

Text

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content.

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses.

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.”

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.”

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writingssummit · 4 years ago

Note

Hi I just read you’re tsukishima story and it was so cute omg but I have an idea

Let’s say y/n has a huge crush on tsukishima since they were children right. But tsukishima never rlly liked y/n in that way. So he would always like be kinda aggressive but like not in the physical way, like he would be cold to her whenever y/n would constantly say something abt them dating. In reality he did like her but he didn’t realize it. Then suddenly a new guy shows up, he’s like really handsome and he’s in a small band, he plays the bass. Y/n actually listens to that band and she was so excited so the two of them click really easy, that’s when she starts being distant with tsukishima and stops the talks abt them dating, tsukishima starts to miss everything y/n would say to him and he wanted to get y/n back, but when he tries he sees y/n and the guy sharing a peck 😔‼️ sorry if this was longgggg ugh

a/n: ahhh! I’m glad you thought so, haha! don’t worry about the length, specifics are always welcome! <3 this is a really good idea! i think it ended up on the longer side, but yk, more content is good? i also ended up naming him, so it’s easier to refer to him. i keep holding on to highschool settings i’m sorry LMAO- i haven’t finished season 4 and i’m not reading the manga yet :( but anyways, here’s a bit of angst/unrequited love to balance out my recent fluff posts !

asks/requests: open !

word count: 2.6k

warnings?: some angst/unrequited love

worth a try.

- TSUKISHIMA KEI -

growing up with tsukishima had been a whirlwind of experiences. ever since you had moved and transferred to his school the last year of primary school, you’d been drawn to him. the tall, blonde kid with glasses. you found his pride in volleyball admirable, and you even found him to be so much cooler than you ever would be.

you originally didn’t know anybody when you first moved, but you fit right in with both tsukishima and his own friend. it was a strange combination, but it worked somehow. while tsukishima was rude, and yamaguchi timid, you were loud and energetic. you were lively. you challenged him just for the fun of it, you poked and prodded, just having fun being around him.

you were his self-declared best friend.

looking back on it, you probably always had feelings for tsukishima. back in those days when you tried to get into volleyball yourself. wanting to be like him, you tried your best, but you weren’t all that good. he would make fun of you for it, but you weren’t bothered by settling for being supportive of him and your freckled friend. You were just as passionate as they were about it.

you were even there when that passion jaded. watched as he stared at his brother from across the game.

it was when you started junior high, that you came to the conclusion that you were in love with your friend. but unlike most people, you did nothing to hide it. why would you? you were always open, always honest and straight to the point. you just weren’t one to hide that.

“go out with me, tsukki!” you poked his side with a cheeky grin, your eyes bright. your friend wasted no time in rejecting you.

“no.”

“aw, you sure?”

“i would never date somebody so stupidly annoying.” you shook off the blatant insult, laughing instead with your hand on your neck. a small thing you picked up from your other friend. yamaguchi.

“you’ll come around one day!”

“i doubt that.”

it went on like that all throughout your remaining years until high school. a constant back and forth that became a schedule at that point.

it was decided that tsukishima would be going to karasuno, as would yamaguchi. and so would you. you would go where they go, you’d never thought about leaving them both. you’d stay with them as long as possible, holding on to their friendship like it was your lifeline..

and holding onto tsukishima even more so.

you were there with them on the first day, when they joined volleyball club. that first practice match against aoba johsai.

you weren’t always watching their practices, since you had your own club duties to attend to of course. but you always made sure to stop by the clubroom while the boys were getting ready, just to say hi to everyone and to a certain someone.

“hey, hey!” you poked your head from around the door, waving a hand. the team greeted you cheerfully enough, minus tsukishima. who looked annoyed to no end.

“tsukki, wanna go grab something to eat after your practice? i know a really great spot!”

he didn’t even look at you, only giving you the middle finger.

you laughed, shrugging. “worth a try.”

the first time the team had witnessed your very forward approach to asking the extremely salty and crude boy out, they were surprised. the way he turned you down so effortlessly too, threw them off. the added shock of anybody even liking him was the cherry on top.

“is this normal?” sugawara asked, a chuckle falling from his lips. asahi was beside him, sweatdropping at the sight of your affectionate display, and tsukishima’s obvious lack of reciprocation.

yamaguchi smiled awkwardly, nodding. “well- yeah, actually. It’s been happening for years.”

“i’d kill to have somebody all over me like that! lucky bastard!” tanaka held his fist up dramatically, as if clenching his heart in it. he even had a tear in the corner of his eye.

“well then, i’ll be on my way! good practice, everyone!” you chirped, finally leaving them.

“l/n’s got some serious determination.” tanaka whistled.

“misplaced determination. they won’t shut up about dating, it’s annoying.” tsukishima didn’t sound as impressed as his loud senpai was.

yamaguchi tilted his head to the side. “really? i would’ve thought tha-”

“shut up.”

a small laugh. “sorry, tsukki.”

it would forever continue, it seemed like. you never thought you’d give it up, you always knew that you liked tsukishima. your heart would pound, your stomach would feel fluttery. but even though you’ve been with him since you were children, it didn’t seem like he’d grown to feel the same. it would get you down sometimes, his mean and harsh words whenever you’d bring it up. either casually, or intentionally.

you couldn’t help being so hopelessly whipped!

you were walking down the sidewalk with yamaguchi and tsukishima, humming along to a new song that had been dropped recently. you were so into it, strumming your fingers like you were the one playing in the recording. tsukishima watched you with critical eyes, but yamaguchi watched as if this was entertaining.

“new song, l/n?” yamaguchi asked you, and you paused the music. you nodded right away, grinning.

“yeah! there’s this kind of new band I found a bit ago, i think around the time you guys met nekoma for that first practice match? their music is so cool!” you could go on and on about them, to be honest. they may be small, and very underground, but you liked them anyways.

“wahh, they sound cool- right, tsukki?” yamaguchi and you both looked behind at him, faces expecting the same sentiment.

he only scoffed.

you roll your eyes playfully, sidling up to him for the first time today. “you want to go get some ice cream, tsukki?” you wished, hoped for him to just say yes for once. your heart was begging at this point.

“get out of my face, l/n.” he said coldly.

with a defeated sigh, you walked a few steps quicker, before unpausing the music. the humming resumed, and yamaguchi glanced back and forth between you both with a weary expression.

“you could try to be a bit nicer, tsukki-”

“they can’t take a damn hint, it’s not my job to be nice about it.” He said stubbornly.

yamaguchi sighed himself, nodding along. there wasn’t a point in continuing the topic; he always shut it down whenever yamaguchi brought it up. he’s never been so aggressive about something before.

interhigh had come, taking up your friend’s time with it. you were upset that they’d be so busy now, but with the new tournament coming, came a new student.

he was friendly, and cheerful, and honestly probably one of the most charming people you’ve ever met in your life. he even looked familiar to you, like you’ve seen him somewhere before. you couldn’t figure it out, so you just opted to the conclusion you must have just passed him down the street at some point. or some strange case of deja vu? either way, he was in your class now.

you were just coming back from the bathroom, your earbuds plugged into your ears like they usually were nowadays.

“l/n, please take your earbuds out, it’s class time.” iour teacher scolded you gently, and you pouted a little. It was just getting to a good part-

you had tugged on them a little too hard, and instead of just getting them out of your ears, they came out of the headphone jack completely.

you were embarrassed as your new favorite band’s music started blasting out of the phone’s speakers, and you hurried to turn it off. You were blushing, laughing at yourself as you went to go sit back down.

ahh, dang! everyone heard that! you were just laughing at yourself in your head now.

there was a tap on your desk, and you turned your face towards the hand. it was the new kid, and his face looked bright.

“you listen to my band’s music?” he whispered to you, his face beaming, and you gasped quietly.

“is this you?” you pointed at your pocket, where your phone rested. he nodded.

“that’s so- wow, i go to school with one of the people in my favo-”

“l/n, do you have something to say about the lecture?”

you shook your head violently, holding back a huge grin. “n-no, miss!” your teacher sighed, and continued past the interruption.

the looks you both shared didn’t go unnoticed by tsukishima.

everyday now, you were hanging around the new kid. you had come to learn his name, which was ishiwaka teruo. you both had hit it off instantly, it was like you guys had known each other forever, and not just a few weeks. it was almost like some crazy twist of fate, or luck. you guys were both alike in a lot of ways, held similar passions, too.

“see you, ishi!” you waved a hand, grinning as he waved a goodbye back. you guys didn’t take the same way home, so he ended up leaving the opposite direction, while you walked with tsukishima and yamaguchi. you were humming again, one of ishiwaka’s band’s songs.

“you seem pretty happy, l/n.” yamaguchi chuckled, watching as you danced a little.

“oh yeah, you bet! ishi actually invited me to sit in for one of his practices, isn’t that so cool? he plays the bass, and he even offered to teach me a few chords. i don’t really mess with instruments, but-”

“can you shut up about him? all you do is just yap on and on about this guy, hanging out with him isn’t enough for you? what’s so special anyways?” his tone was harsh, and condescending. “if you’re just going to talk about him all the time, i’m not walking with you guys anymore.” your eyes widened as soon as you heard what tsukishima had just said. your heart was pounding, like it had been caught in the act of something terrible. you even felt slightly ashamed.

“wow, nice, tsukki. sorry for being excited about something.” you muttered, clutching your bag straps tight. what did you expect at this point? he didn’t like you as much as you thought, if he was so ready to just leave you behind. yamaguchi sensed the tension between you both, which made him uncomfortable.

you were all quiet for the rest of the way home.

interhigh came and went, the loss against aoba johsai stung the volleyball team, leaving their spirits broken, and cracked. you hadn’t been to the game that day, busy with a certain band member. and your missing presence hadn’t been looked over.

“where were you?” tsukishima had confronted you in the hallways, while you were walking with ishiwaka to the water fountain. it was break, which meant he could freely talk to you now.

you looked away from him, a nervous air around you that wasn’t like you at all.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t make it, tsukki- i heard that you guys lost, and i’m really sorry i couldn’t have been there!” your words were careful and slow, like you were thinking on how to say the right thing to him.

the blonde closed his eyes, and looked off to the side. he didn’t look pleased in the slightest. “were you with your precious band member? like some kind of groupie.”

ishiwaka raised an eyebrow, and you just shook your head. tsukishima was really doing this right now? you said sorry, what else were you supposed to say?

“you know what, yeah. i was with him. it’s not like..it’s not like i have to be around you or yamaguchi every second of the day, okay?” you sighed. “look, i’ll make it to your next practice, and skip my club activities. is that fine?”

he hesitated, before giving you a curt nod. you smiled in relief. “great! i’ll see you then. now, about that specific measure-”

you had left him behind, and tsukishima had been hit with a realization.

you hadn’t mentioned going on a date at all. not today, not even within the past few weeks. was something wrong with you? he’d gotten so used to that, but now even that wasn’t a constant.

it was like you were slipping away from him, day by day.

and he realized that he didn’t like that.

as the days went on, thoughts about this ran rampant through his mind. it was maddening, he was trying to focus on school, and now, as he was walking to the clubroom, volleyball. he was scarily silent, and yamaguchi caught onto it right away.

“tsukki?” he asked quietly, not wanting to push. but he wanted to know. ever since tsukishima had come back from break that day, he’d been acting strange. he was even saltier, if that was possible.

“am i not enough for l/n?” he spit out the question, like it was a disease.

taken aback, the freckled boy could only blink. the two stopped walking, looking right at each other now. “what?”

tsukishima barked out a laugh, running a hand over his face in frustration. “you heard me, yamaguchi.”

yamaguchi’s jaw dropped. “do you miss them?” was he for real? was this jealousy actually coming from tsukishima?

“hell if i know.” he muttered. but he knew the answer, and that’s what upset him.

“i knew it. tsukki, why did it have to be now, though?” he shook his head in disbelief. at the utter obliviousness of this boy. yamaguchi knew himself that there was something there in tsukishima, something resembling feelings for you. but of course it was when you were no longer always around that he saw it.

“what?”

“l/n isn’t a puppy anymore, they’re not following after you. if you haven’t noticed, they’ve given up. you need to do this yourself, and fix it.” yamaguchi stated. he wouldn’t be lying if he said that he’d been frustrated with the back and forth between you both, it was so obvious to him, but apparently not obvious to tsukishima. or you, for that matter.

“i know that.” he muttered. he would have to confront you about this. was he stupid? why didn’t he get this before?

“then do something about it.”

tsukishima was quiet.

it was decided by him that he’d catch you outside of practice, since you said you’d be coming to watch. it was a quick, and impulsive decision from him, but he needed this to be figured out. his head was at it’s most unclear, and that was affecting him.

you were affecting him.

he looked around the outside of the gym, trying to see if he could spot you coming. it took a minute, before he saw a figure off to the side. it was you, he could tell by that bag anywhere. he stepped out, only to be met with the full picture.

you were with ishiwaka, and you were kissing him.

tsukishima hurried back into the gym with a stone-cold expression. oh. so this is where he stood now.

no longer at the top of your list, no longer important.

you walked into the gym, beaming. it angered tsukishima, more than he should have been. he yanked your arm, and held you by them with a vice grip. you looked up at your friend with nervous, maybe even scared eyes. you hadn’t seen tsukishima like this before.

“what is he to you?”

you blinked. “wh-what?”

“who is he to you? that little bass player.” his eyes were searching yours, for anything, anything that he could hold on to. you didn’t respond, only looking away from his intense stare.

your eyes didn’t hold that same look that they used to whenever you looked at him.

he had his answer. and he didn’t like it. so he let go of you, maybe for real this time. things had changed so much, right under his nose. and he had let it happen.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader angst #tsukishima x reader angst

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lueurjun · 3 years ago

Text

𝖱𝖮𝖠𝖣 𝖳𝖮 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖤. 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇

“=⌕ sim jaeyun x gn!reader.

⌗ SUMMARY — becoming a tiktoker was never apart of the plan, but here you are, 4 million followers and a love for pranking your boyfriend.

. . ⇢ LUEURJUN’S NOTES — this is supposed to be gender neutral but if i slipped up at any point then i do sincerely apologise. this probably won’t be written the best, i was kinda sick and had a moment of inspiration. this is super fluffy and cheesy, so brace yourself.

₊❏❜ WARNING ⋮ uh tears of joy?? i guess.

2021 @lueurjun.

THE 30TH APRIL 2020 was the day that your life changed in ways that you used to believe only happened in movies.

Honestly, setting up your phone and telling your devilishly handsome, yet so pure, so innocent boyfriend that you wanted to have a child—whether that be adoption plans or getting pregnant—it was a small prank you decided to pull and film for your group chat. You never had any intentions of uploading it onto the internet, until Jay, one of your closest friends, suggested that you posted it to Tiktok.

Jake was cool with it, having not expected it to blow up as much as it did. Nobody had expected for you to get over 2 million views and over 600k likes on your first video. Nor did you expect the heaps of requests in your comment section of different pranks to pull on your boyfriend. And that’s where it began.

That one video was a rabbit hole into what quickly became your career.

Now, with over 4 million followers, you have created your own little fan base, who have grown to love you, your boyfriend and even your friends that occasionally end up in your videos.

ii.

The light in the kitchen flickered once as you set up your phone against a bunch of cookbooks that your parents had yet to read. Mentally, you made a note to ask one of your family members to change the bulb when they returned home. Focusing on your phone, which was now recording, you put your thumbs up and turned towards the door.

“JAEYUN!” Your voice echoed through the quiet home, bouncing off every wall until it met your boyfriend’s ears. Brief shuffling could be heard followed by the padding of feet across the floor boards. He was only in the next room, so it didn’t take long for him to appear right before your eyes.

The first thing your eyes set on was the crinkles in his shirt, suggesting that he had been laying down. His dark hair was hidden beneath a black hat, which he had placed on his head backwards. He was dressed so simple, but you still managed to fall in love once again at the sight of him. You often wondered how you had managed to bag someone like Jake, he was the epitome of perfection and you couldn’t really see why he would want to be with you. Jake never let these thoughts ponder in your mind for too long, since he was always quick to prove to you that you’re everything to him.

Secretly eyeing the camera, you put on a pout and fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Immediately, the alarm bells go off in Jake’s mind. You’re never normally this quiet and it’s rare to see you pout. He frowns a little, eyebrows knitting together as concern washes over his face. Using his index finger and his thumb, he lifts your chin and gently rubs the skin just below your lip.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just- don’t get mad,” you begin, forcing yourself to sound sad. “But I just think you could’ve been a little bit nicer to me today.”

He had been nothing but an angel to you all day, and you felt horrendous for making him think otherwise, but alas, Tiktok had spoken and they wanted you to do this prank. So, as bad as you felt, it wouldn’t cause much harm.

“Did I do something to upset you?” He looks genuinely hurt by his own actions and guilt immediately tugs at your heart strings.

You shrug and avert your gaze downwards, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your feet. This was partly to stop yourself from giving in too quickly, you’d always been a sucker for Jake’s puppy dog eyes and you knew if you looked into them any longer, you would stop the prank.

Jake cocks his head to the side and steps closer to you, nuzzling his nose against the side of your head. You feel his breath fan over your ear and you swear your heart stops beating for a second. His fingers trail over your waist and he plants the softest kiss to the side of your head.

“I just feel like you’ve been a little mean to me today,” you continue. And he nods his head in understanding, though you know he doesn’t understand at all. Jake doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but if you think he hasn’t been nice to you then he’s not going to argue.

“I’m sorry, can you tell me what I did to make you feel this way?”

You lean your head against his chest and bite your lip, it’s hard to contain your smile. With his sweet response mixed with the scent of his cologne fogging up your brain, you have a hard time holding onto your act and he quickly notices.

“Is this a prank?” He asks, pulling away from you.

You let the giggles slip from your mouth and nod towards the phone, that you had done your best to hide. Jake turns, his hand still on your waist, and he looks for the camera. Once his eyes land on his figure, he throws his head back and a breathy laugh falls from his lips.

“I should’ve known.”

Yes, yes he should’ve but you still made up for it with plenty of kisses.

iii.

Picking Jake up from football practice had become a ritual.

You didn’t need to be asked anymore, you’re just always there waiting for him and he loves that. The excited smile on his face whenever he sees you patiently sitting behind the wheel never gets old. Picking him up, as sad as it sounds, has become your drive to get through Tuesdays. They’re not your favourite day of the week, but knowing you get to see a smiley, yet sweaty, Sim Jaeyun at the end of the day gives you more than enough motivation.

Just like any other Tuesday, you’re waiting. You like to get there early and so, you have about fifteen more minutes until you see your favourite boy walking through the gate. Music plays softly in the background as you lean back and scroll through your comment sections—people are so sweet, though you do get a bitter taste in your mouth when you see people fawning over your boyfriend like he’s a piece of cake.

You ignore the thirst comments and look through the requests. Not many catch your eye, until you come across a particular one and a smirk appears on your face.

Fifteen minutes turns into twenty and finally you see your worn out boyfriend heading towards your car. As tired as he never fails to smile and pick up his pace. He pulls open the door and slips inside. You reach over and greet him with a chaste kiss before pulling away.

“How was practice?”

“Exhausting. Can we take a nap together when we get to your place?” He asks whilst adjusting his seatbelt.

A nap sounds amazing, and you waste no time in nodding your head. “Before we go, I went shopping today. I picked you up a few things, let me show you.”

He melts then and there. Reaching back, you grab one of the bags and aggressively tug it towards you, making sure you hit Jake on the side of the head. He hisses and turns to look at you.

You don’t even apologize.

“No this isn’t it,” you mumble to yourself.

You grip the bag and throw it back where you got it from, once again making sure to slap your boyfriend with it. He stares at you, annoyed with your aggressiveness, though you don’t look back at him and instead, you hit him a third time with a new bag but you instantly regret it. You ended up attacking him with the new pair of shoes you treated yourself to and you can tell this one pained him.

Quickly giving up on the prank, you drop the bag and reach over to rub the back of his head. “I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

He whips his head towards you, looking at you as though you had just murdered an entire family in front of him. “What? So you meant to hit me?”

You drop your hand and retreat back to your seat, attempting to look innocent. Jake then finds your phone, which is pointing right at him and he sees that it’s recording. You feel guilty, having not meant to hurt him so hard, you can’t meet his eye. You are about to start driving again, when you feel an impact on your arm and a yelp parts from your mouth.

Jake sits beside you, a smile on his face and a bag clutched in his hand. You scowl and he only grins wider.

“Now we’re even.”

Oh, he is evil.

iv.

On the 10th May 2021, you hit 5 million followers.

It was a shock, you rarely kept track of your follower count because you weren’t really in it for that ( though you are grateful for every single person that supports you ) so, you really hadn’t been expecting to hit such a huge milestone. In fact, you were so unexpectant, that you were sleeping at the time.

“BABY!” Your eyes flew open as the bed shook. Jake had jumped on the bed, plastering kisses all over your face. “You hit 5 mill!”

Disoriented, you blink. “Pardon?”

Jake chuckles at your sleepy state, even with messy hair and puffy eyes, he thinks you look so attractive. His dark eyes trail over your features as he uses his thumb to rub underneath your eye, almost like he was trying to wipe away your sleepiness.

“You hit 5 million followers, you did it.” His voice is softer this time, quieter but still filled with enthusiasm. You gape at him, and he laughs.

“I did?” You ask, pointing to yourself.

He nods. “You did.”

The realisation crashes down at you at once and suddenly, you feel your nose sting as tears form in your eyes. Your fingers curl around the fabric of your boyfriend’s shirt whilst the other hand comes up to cover your mouth. Stray tears drop down onto your skin. You can’t believe it. 5 million people followed you. They like your content.

Jake coos at the tears that leak from your eyes like a waterfall. He’s quick to wipe them away, before he presses a kiss to your wet cheek. He’s proud and he’s filled with pride, his baby got 5 million followers and he couldn’t wait to brag to everyone about how talented and cool you are. That’s his favourite thing to do. Jake loves to brag about you.

You sniffle and press your hands against his cheeks. Gently, you rub your nose against his own. “We did it. It’s your account just as much as it is mine, I wouldn’t have got this far without you. After all, you’re my main prank victim. So, we did it. We hit 5 million together.”

You weren’t taking all of the credit, Jake was just as involved as you and he deserves the praise. You had done this together.

“You do know Jay is never going to let you forget that he was the one who suggested uploading it to TikTok...right?”

You laugh, nodding your head. “Yep. I know he’s gloating in the group chat, right now.”

And he was. Jay was so proud of you and Jake, but most of all, he was proud of himself because without him, you would have never uploaded that first video. So, you let him have his moment.

“To millions more!” Jake cheers as he lifts the pizza in his hand, the two of you had decided to celebrate with a victorious take away and a movie marathon.

“To millions more,” you repeat softly.

Whether you had 0 followers or 5 million, as long as Sim Jaeyun was by your side, you didn’t mind.

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen x gender neutral reader #sim jaeyun #sim jake #jake enhypen #jake scenarios #jake x reader #sim jake imagines #jaeyun x reader #jaeyun fluff #jake fluff #sim jake scenarios

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poetrusicperry · 3 years ago

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the poets and their first summer jobs

i’ve seen some discourse about how rich all the boys/their families are, and of course there would be like very little reason for them to work, but i couldn’t help wondering who would do what for their first jobs (summer jobs bc they couldn’t work while they’re at school). andddd that led me to writing this lol

neil: so neil would have like absolutely zero time for a job between all his normal coursework/extracurriculars and his summer classes (”you know me, always taking on too much”), but i guarantee you he would still take the time to get a job and have his own money to do with whatever he chose. mr. perry wouldn’t care much because it showed neil “taking initiative” or whatever. neil would likely work at a diner as either a bus boy or a waiter. he’s super personable, so he’d always strike up conversations with people sitting at the counter, and he’d get loads of tips bc he’s cute (: he’d bring his summer school work with him to do during lulls in business, which his boss didn’t mind because it’s neil and everyone knows how responsible he is. the poets would come visit him pretty much every day (to eat, see neil, and escape the heat in the air conditioning), likely taking up a whole booth, and making an absolute mess of the area. charlie would be making spitballs, aiming at cameron and knox every time (earning a “charlie, knock it off, i told you three times already! so mature of you, really.” from cameron) and meeks/pitts would try to see how many straws they could connect to make “ultra straw.” todd would come hang out at the counter when neil was closing, admiring his pretty bf as he worked (’: neil would always make todd a chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and rainbow jimmies on the house, claiming, “we have to empty out the ice cream machine anyway” (but really he’d take the cost out of his paycheck, just wanting to make todd happy). his boss would hire him back every summer, loving how much business neil drove in (even if the poets made a mess every time they hung out and ate) and absolutely adoring how much effort neil put into what anyone else would seemingly call a “meaningless” job.

todd: you can’t tell me that todd wouldn’t look forward to working. especially during the summers, it would get him out of the house and away from his parents judging his every move. being the shy introvert he is, he’d likely do things like mowing lawns or gardening for people around his neighborhood. minimal interactions, but still decent pay (as all the people in his neighborhood were likely super rich and could afford to pay him well). the poets’ parents would hire him, after much convincing from their sons (”todd’s just trying to make some money, dad. please?”) and todd would appreciate this more than they ever knew. he’d become super familiar with flower types and he’d become a lot more nurturing after taking care of plants and grass for multiple summers. he’d keep a little journal or notebook with drawings or sketches of the flowers he’d taken care of, complete with descriptions and magazine/newspaper clippings from his mom’s better homes and garden subscription (a lot of his poetry would become nature-related as well). it would be his late night project, or something he’d do if he couldn't sleep (which was pretty common for todd). he’d call neil on the phone some nights and just gush about all kinds of flowers or tell neil how he accidentally got stung by a bee and cried about it because he knew the bee would die (all the while, neil would be listening so intently, taking note about which flowers were todd’s favorites for future use (’: the calls would have to be pretty planned, bc if neil wasn’t working, he was doing school work, or his parents were keeping an annoyingly close watch on him. but sometimes neil would call him impromptu and that made todd just the happiest little camper ever). todd’s nails would be really short (he’d cut them really often because he doesn’t like the feeling of dirt under his nails), which means he couldn’t bite his nails anymore, causing him to pick up a new anxious habit of biting the inside of his bottom lip ): overall, though, todd would like his job, and even find pleasure in being surrounded by little flowers all day. also if/when neil ever got the chance, he’d absolutely tag along to see his sweaty boyfriend in action (come on, neil would go absolutely nuts for todd in a cutoff shirt, 5″ inseam shorts, and converse mowing a lawn looking all manly and tough).

charlie: obviously, charlie wouldn’t need to work because of his financial situation, but his mom would 110% make him get a job just so he wouldn’t be around the house causing trouble/bothering his siblings for fun (”i’m hosting a lot of book club meetings for the country club this summer, i can’t have you putting spiders in the ladies’ hats again, charles”). similar to neil, mr. charlie dalton would work his summers at an ice cream/custard stand. he’d have to wear a white, short sleeve button up, a red and white striped apron, and one of those white, rectangular hats (his least favorite part HAHA, stating, “my hair is one of my best features and this just takes it all away. it’s unfair.”). the poets would visit often, both for ice cream, but primarily to give him a hard time about his uniform (”i’ll give you twenty bucks to wear this on our first day of classes” meeks would tease, completely gobsmacked when charlie showed up to their first chemistry class in his uniform, earning lots of demerits, but also twenty dollars). charlie would hate it at first, but obviously he’d adjust, being the extroverted/personable person, not taking himself too seriously and being one of the best ice cream slingers anyone had ever seen. he’d give the cute girls (and boys) extra scoops of ice cream for free, winking as he handed them their orders. like neil’s boss, charlie’s boss was even more thankful for charlie’s presence because they’d likely be raking in at least triple the income they would in a summer without him. he’d become a sundae expert, spending many dead poets meeting making them for his friends while they read poems and stories. that being said, he’d come to hate eating ice cream, publishing an article in welton’s honor demanding that they remove ice cream from their dessert menu (yes, almost exactly like the “girls at welton” prank, but he’d make the call collect this time. mr. nolan would be fed up to the point where he wouldn’t even punish charlie physically, just suspend him from rowing [which charlie wouldn’t mind at all HAHA]).

meeks & pitts: after their hi-fi success and the fact that they are seemingly inseparable, they both sought out jobs at the local radio station where they were hired as interns/assistants, running errands and picking up coffee or lunch for the station. but sometimes, when they worked pretty late, the night shift dj would let them pick the records and show them how everything worked (: after nights like that, meeks and pitts would go to one of their houses and add modifications to their hi-fi radio, staying up all night modifying and researching (by the end of the summer, they had made another hi-fi (portable) and their og hi-fi would have been morphed into a huge nationally reaching radio that they keep in the cave (since it would be disallowed in their room at welton). another job that the two of them would have would be answering calls for the station about song requests. with this knowledge, charlie and the other poets would hang out at someone’s house, calling and requesting the same songs over and over and over again. their biggest task for the summer would be organizing the shelves with all the records into alphabetical order (”duh, we should go by first name, meeks. which other way would it be” pitts would argue, only to find out that after they had spent about three weeks alphabetizing by first name, they were supposed to go by last name. “now who’s the idiot?” meeks would jeer, beginning to pull the records off the shelves). they’d also learn a lot about music from their night shift coworker, which would help in their quest to woo some ladies the following school year.

cameron: cameron liked spending his summers doing research projects for fun and just reading a whole lot, so you can imagine his displeasure at when his parents asked him to get a job (presumably to help with paying for his schooling). while upset about it, he wouldn’t complain, and took it on the chin, understanding the reasoning. he’d apply to a couple places, but ultimately end up as a grocery store cashier/stock boy. much like charlie, he’d have the same kind of uniform, but with a green apron instead. he’d spend most of his shift ringing people up at the register, being friendly and personable (something no one ever really realized about him !!). the poets’ moms would always see him and choose his register on purpose, using it as a chance to catch up or tell him to tell his parents that “the overstreets say hello!” or “mrs. anderson says hi!” pitts, meeks, and charlie would utilize cameron’s position at the supermarket to buy nudie magazines unembarrassed/slightly illegally HAHA (”come on, cameron! it’s not like you won’t be included in seeing them next year, too. we bring them to the meetings, you know that!” charlie would say, leaving cameron at a loss, reluctantly scanning the magazines and bagging them as pitts and meeks sniggered). charlie would wave, blow him a kiss, and wink as they left, “love you, richardddd.” sure enough, the magazines would make an appearance during the following school year and cameron was glad he had decided to let them buy the magazines lol.

knox: out of all the poets, i feel like our knoxious would be the least inclined to work (yes, even less inclined than charlie). his parents wouldn’t even make him get a job because he simply didn’t need to, but to everyone’s surprise, he would volunteer at the animal shelter. the poets would later find out that it was a great way to meet girls (which is why he did it lmfao so they endlessly goaded him about it). charlie would visit often, and even took a rescue puppy home, much to charlie’s younger sister’s delight. charlie even wanted to start volunteering at the shelter to also meet girls, but he was too busy at the ice cream stand (plus, he had really grown to like it there so he didn’t want to leave). another effect of volunteering made knox super interested in zoology and animals, which brought out a newer, more nurturing/caring side to him, and who knows, maybe he’d go vegetarian somehow. he’d want to pursue a career in animal science or becoming a veterinarian, but mr. overstreet was hellbent on knox taking over the firm, so it seemed like a pipe dream. knox would continue to volunteer at the animal shelter, well into his career as a lawyer, and would even go to veterinary school in his 30s (when he was a nationally famous, established lawyer) to get certification to work with animals in a broader way (:

hope you guys liked these. it was pretty fun to write, and i'd pay such good money to see neil, charlie, and cameron in their uniforms (and todd, but that’s neither here nor there). happy thursday !! let me know what you guys think of these <3(:

#dead poets society #dead poets in nyc #dps #dps headcanons #neil perry #todd anderson #anderperry #neil and todd #charlie dalton #richard cameron #steven meeks #gerard pitts #dark academia #headcanon #angelina writes

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cowboy-like-mee · 4 years ago

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darling (pt 2)

pt 1

summary: harry is upset when he wakes up to any empty bed, but then he runs into you again at a cafe

warnings: smut(choking, daddy kink, unprotected sex, m and f receiving oral)

word count: 4k

a/n: this is a part 2 to my last one shot. i wrote the first part of this like a week ago and lost motivation but i started writing tonight and whipped out 3k words in like an hour and a half. ANYWAY definitely don’t recommend listening to high for this by the weeknd when reading this

masterlist

Harry blinked his eyes open. He felt a dull throbbing in the back of his skull. The sunlight was pouring in through the blinds in his room. He puts his hand out next to him to feel for Y/N.

When he feels nothing, he sits up and looks around. The bed is still slightly warm like you had only gotten up a little bit before. Your clothes that were scattered around his room are gone. The only signs left of you are the love bites littering his neck and hips and the lingering smell of your perfume on his sheets.

He plops back down onto his bed and sighs. He feels disappointed. It's not like he was expecting anything from you, but he was planning on having sloppy morning sex, cooking you breakfast, and then having sex in the kitchen.

He rolls out of bed and pulls on a pair of sweats. He uses the bathroom and does his morning routine. He doesn't necessarily want to go to work today, and he doesn't have to. He has employees who open and close for him, but he feels like he needs a distraction from you.

He doesn't know why he's so hung up on you. He's had hookups in the past who left before he woke up, but for some reason, this was bothering him more than it should.

He walks into the kitchen and fixes himself coffee and toast for breakfast, not having an appetite this morning. He scrolls on his phone as he eats. He has the urge to look you up on Instagram, but he resists.

Once he's done he walks back into this room to change. He pulls on loose blue jeans and a t-shirt with some white Vans. He grabs everything he needs and heads out the door.

The shop doesn't open for a couple more hours, so he's hoping he has some alone time. He decides to walk to the store today, as it's not far from his flat. He puts in his AirPods and plays his music.

After a brief walk, he finally approaches his shop. He unlocks the door and walks in. He locks the door back behind him. He pulls out his phone to text the person who was supposed to come in this morning.

He walks behind the counter to hook his phone up to the speakers. He turns on his favorite playlist and begins prepping the store for opening.

Harry loves his little shop. He's always loved music and how it connects people in the most beautiful ways. He loves helping people that come into his shop discover new artists or helping them buy gifts for friends and family.

He spends the next hour singing around his shop and cleaning up the mess of whoever closed.

He turns the open sign on and settles behind the counter to prepare himself for the day. He's usually pretty busy on the weekends, from teenagers messing around with their friends to older people having a day out.

For the next few hours, Harry spends his day helping various people pick out records. He stays until he has a couple of his employees to take over for him. He decided he's had enough of today. He just wants to go home, watch movies for hours, then pass out on his couch.

He gets his things together and leaves. He decides to stop at a new cafe on the way home to grab a late lunch. He walks in and walks up to the counter to put in his order.

What he doesn't notice is Y/N sitting in the back with her same friends from last night. You're telling them about your escapades last night with the same man that happens to be standing just a few yards away.

"He really knew what he was doing. I feel like sex will never be the same."

"Girl, why did you leave this morning, then? He sounds like a good guy. He probably wouldn't have cared if you woke up with him. You could've had a little morning romp."

"I just didn't know if it would be awkward. I don't know him. I just felt more comfortable leaving, no matter how sad it made me."

You have your back to Harry, so you don't see him either.

Your friend looks up and notices the tall, green-eyed man. She notices the man from last night, specifically the man that you left with.

"Y/N, don't look now, but that's definitely your man up there at the counter."

Your eyes widen and your heart stops. You were hoping you would never run into him again.

"Oh my God. You're kidding." You try lowering yourself in your seat so he doesn't notice you.

"No, girl. And it looks like he's eating here, so we're gonna have to walk past him anyway." You send a death glare to your friend. "You should go apologize for leaving this morning. Maybe try seducing him again."

"You're awful." You roll your eyes and consider what she's saying. You could apologize, but unless he hints at another time you won't say anything.

You nod. "Okay, I'm gonna go up to him. But y'all have to walk out before me and wait outside." You point at them, making sure they understand you're serious.

They hold their hands up in defense and stand up from the table.

"Good luck, Y/N."

"Get that dick!" They say a little too loudly.

You hide your head in your palms and giggle at your friends' vulgar words. You stand up and take a deep breath. You turn around to finally face him. He looks different than yesterday. He's wearing casual clothes and he looks tired. He's staring down at his phone, mindlessly scrolling.

He feels like he's being watched so he looks up. He looks straight into your eyes and you feel yourself shut down. He clears his throat and raises his brows at you.

You finally get the courage to walk up to him. "Hey, Harry."

"Y/N." He nods.

"Listen, I'm sorry for running out this morning. I didn't know if you were on those guys that would kick me out first thing or if things would be awkward."

"Oh..."

"Yeah, I feel bad. I should've left you a note or my number. It wasn't you...it was for my comfort. Sorry again..." You ramble on.

"You don't have to apologize. I understand. I feel better knowing it wasn't because I was a bad shag."

You laugh. "You can't seriously think that, Harry."

He chuckles, "Hey, you never know, you could be really good at faking it."

You roll your eyes. "Please. You were pretty confident in yourself last night. I think you know what you're doing."

"Oh, stop. You're inflating my ego."

You giggle at his words. "Anyway...sorry again. I guess I'll, uh, see you around." You wave and turn around to leave.

"Y/N, wait." He calls you back.

You almost sigh in relief. "Yeah?"

"Uh, I don't know if you're interested, but would you maybe...wanna do that again sometime?" He asks.

You feel your cheeks heat up and you look down at your feet. "Oh, uh...sure. I'll give you my number."

He smiles and hands you his phone. You send a text to yourself and put your name in his contacts.

"There you go."

He looks back up at you after slipping his phone into his pocket.

"Thanks. I guess I'll text you sometime." He says shyly.

"Use it whenever." You smirk. "Bye, Harry." You wiggle your fingers at him and walk away, trying to sway your hips as you leave.

He groans under his breath and lets his head fall back. That didn't go as badly as he thought it would. His day has instantly gotten better just from seeing you again. He's not looking for a relationship, but having a constant like you in his life would be great. Plus, he gets a new friend out of it too.

Harry stared at your contact for 30 minutes before finally getting the balls to text you. He didn't go into work today, so he's been cleaning his place all day.

He's been watching movies for the past couple of hours, trying to avoid his phone. He knew why he was. He was trying to put off texting you as long as possible. He almost wishes he had given you his number so he didn't have to deal with the pressure of texting first.

He clicked on your contact and tried to compose a text that didn't sound too needy. It was a Friday night, and he knew you most likely had plans already. He didn't want to face the possibility of being rejected.

Harry: Hey Y/N, it's Harry. Just wanted to see if you have plans tn?

He hit send and threw his phone next to him on the couch. He was trying to distract himself by watching the movie playing on the screen in front of him.

About 15 minutes passed before his phone buzzed.

You were downing your second glass of wine when you got Harry's text. Your friends were going out tonight, but you told them you needed a night off. You had a long, hard week and just wanted a little downtime.

You had been waiting for Harry to text you all week. You were beginning to think he had forgotten about you. Your wishes came true when you got the notification from an unknown number.

You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face at reading his text. You weren't planning on having anyone over or going anywhere until you had to go back to work on Monday, but you would gladly change your plans to accommodate Harry and his dick.

Y/N: Hey Harry. I've was beginning to think you forgot about me

You sent the text to him and smirked at your subtle form of flirting.

Harry: Like I could ever forget you

Y/N: How sweet. Anyway, I have no plans tonight...or the rest of the weekend

Harry: I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come over? It's okay if not. I don't wanna take up your free time

Y/N: It's no problem!! I didn't want to sit around on my ass for the next few days anyway. What did you have in mind?

I know something else you can sit on, Harry thought to himself. He was thinking of sending you that, but he didn't want to seem like he a dick.

Harry: Well, I was thinking I could order some takeout and you could come over

You smiled at his text. You really didn't feel like getting ready, but you still wanted to see him.

Y/N: That sounds great! Although I would prefer you to come to my place this time.

Harry immediately got up and began getting ready while texting you back. He told you he would pick up some food and be over in no more than an hour. You sent him your location and ran to your bathroom to freshen up.

You weren't exactly looking the cutest, but you didn't want to seem like you had put too much effort into making yourself up.

You changed into a nicer, less stained t-shirt and a pair of leggings. You took your hair down and tried to make it look decent. You splashed your face with water and sprayed yourself with some perfume.

The hour waiting for him went by too slow for your liking. Your heart leaped out of your chest when you heard a knock at your door. You practically ran to your door. You took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.

There he was, standing beautifully at your front door with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of food in the other. Your eyes met his, and you almost fell over.

He looked so fucking good. He was wearing a pair of loose blue jeans with rips in the knees, a t-shirt, and stained white vans with colored laces. You stepped to the side to let him in.

You could smell his cologne fill your senses.

"Hey." You breathed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He hugged you back. "Hey, darling."

Your heart fluttered at the pet name. You grabbed the bottle out of his hand and led him into your kitchen.

"You didn't have to bring anything, Harry."

Oh, but he did. He would've felt bad for coming over, fucking you, and leaving without bringing something. You're both waiting for the inevitable moment. The tension in the air is thick.

"It's not a big deal. Hope you like Thai."

You smiled. "I love it."

"Good."

You both sat down to eat, making small talk, and getting to know each other. He was such an interesting man. You found yourself fascinated with him and his way of telling stories. The slow way he talks and the way his lips form certain words.

You wanted nothing more than to kiss him at that moment. So you told him.

"I really wanna kiss you right now, Harry."

He was in the middle of a sentence when you cut him off. He felt the breath leave his lungs.

"Do you?" He smirked, trying to play it cool, which was hard to do with the way you were looking at him. His cock had been fattening his pants since he walked into your apartment.

"Fuck, yes." You stood up and walked into the living room, hoping he would get the hint and follow you.

He almost tripped trying to catch up to you. You were almost in your room when he caught up to you. He roughly grabbed you by the arm and turned you around. Before you could say anything, his lips were on yours.

You moaned at the feeling of his lips on yours after so long. He kissed you roughly and sloppily. He was biting, sucking, licking, anything to provoke a reaction out of you. He was so hard it hurt. He backed you up till your back hit the wall.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth and moaned at the taste. "Fuck, Y/N. You're so fucking hot."

He brought his hand down to palm at your pussy. You gasped into his mouth, giving him even more access to lick into your mouth. He was rubbing your clit through your leggings, and you felt like you could come already.

"Fuck me, please, Harry." You whined.

He groaned and started licking down your neck. He nipped at different spots on your neck to see what had you squirming the most.

"You want me to fuck you against this wall, baby?" He pushed his hard cock right against your core.

"Shit." You gasped. "Please, daddy? I want you to take me right here."

He moaned and grabbed your leggings to yank them down your legs. You kicked them the rest of the way off and reached for his shirt. He helped you yank it off as you reached for his belt. The sound of his belt being undone made your abdomen clench. You dropped to your knees and pulled his briefs down. You immediately took his cock in your hand and began pumping.

Looking at you down on your knees in front of him made him want to come almost instantly, but he held back. You licked the precum leaking from his tip and suckled. You licked his shaft from the base to the head and took him into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, pumping what you couldn't fit in your mouth.

He moaned above you and pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail to help you out. He held back from thrusting his hips forward to meet your mouth. You pulled off of him to take a breath. You were panting for air, and Harry swears he's never seen anyone look so beautiful in his life.

Your cheeks were flushed, and your eyes watering. You had precum mixed with saliva dripping down your chin. You looked so filthy on your knees for him.

You took him back into your mouth and forced yourself down until your nose met his the hairs above the base of his cock. He held you there for a minute and pushed his hips forward till he hit the back of your throat. He pulled you off of him before he busted down your throat.

He pulled you up till you were standing, and he smeared his lips against yours. He tasted himself on your tongue and groaned at the taste.

"Dirty girl." He whispered, wiping the tears from under your eyes. You smiled weakly and kissed him again.

He brought his hand down to your panties to rub you through the cloth. You had soaked through them, and his jaw almost dropped at how wet you were.

"You got so wait from sucking daddy's cock, baby girl?" He was rubbing slow circles into your cloth-covered clit. You needed more.

"Yes, daddy." You nodded at him, and he smirks at the pitiful look on your face. He knew he was teasing you, and he loved it.

"Want daddy to fuck you, sweetheart?"

"Mhm. Please, I need you so bad." You whimpered.

He kneeled in front of you. He kissed your soaking cunt through your panties. His nose was digging right into your clit. You moaned at the feeling and wrapped your hands into his hair to try to get him to do more.

He ripped your panties down your legs and licked a fat stripe up your center. He sucked your clit into his mouth and pushed two fingers into you at the same time. You screamed out, satisfied at finally being touched how you needed.

When he knew you were right on the edge, he pulled back. You whined loudly. He stood up and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed you up against the wall. His cock was pressing right against your core.

He got you into a comfortable position. Your legs were wrapped around his waist. He had your back against the wall with one of his hands right next to your head and the other wrapped around one of your thighs.

He tugged at his cock for a minute. He lined himself with your entrance. Your head was laid back against the wall. He grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him.

"Look at me when I fuck you."

You nodded your head. He pushed into you to the hilt. Your walls clenched around him, and you both moaned at the feeling. He pulled back slowly and then snapped his hips forward roughly. You gasped at the feeling. The angle was intense. He was hitting spots deep inside of you, making you feel like he was in your tummy.

He had his hand wrapped tightly around your jaw still. You sucked his thumb into your mouth. He groaned at the sigh of your cheek hollowed around his thumb. He was fucking into you at a hard pace, but not necessarily fast. Just enough to leave you satisfied but still wanting more.

"Faster." You moaned out. You were so close already. All it would take is a few more snaps of his hips to send you crashing over.

He quickened his pace, driving into you hard and deep. His hips were meeting yours roughly, probably going to bruise. He moved his hand to your throat and gave it a good squeeze. You clenched around him.

"Such a filthy little slut. Like it when daddy choke's you? Not gonna be able to walk tomorrow because I'm fucking you so good."

"Fuck, daddy. I'm so close." You moaned out. You were clenching around him uncontrollably. You felt your release bubbling in your tummy, waiting to let go.

"You aren't gonna come till I tell you."

He was snapping his hips forward vigorously. He squeezed your throat again. The sound of wet skin slapping and both of your moans filled the room. Harry could feel his release at the bottom of his spine.

"Wanna come, baby?"

"Yes. Please, daddy. I need to come so bad." You couldn't hold back your loud moans. No one had ever fucked you this good in all your years. You knew you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow, but you didn't even care. You were completely consumed in Harry.

"Come for daddy. Soak me."

As soon as the words left his mouth, you came. Your vision washed white and you came hard. You let out a silent scream as he fucked you through your release. Your walls were spasming around him.

As you rode out your release you slumped against the wall. Your body felt numb. He kept pounding into your sensitive cunt, chasing his release.

"Fuck, Y/N. I'm gonna come."

"Come in my mouth, daddy."

As soon as you said those words, he was pulling out and set you on your feet. You dropped to your knees and opened your mouth wide for him.

You tugged at his cock quickly with your tongue out, waiting for him to release. With a few more strokes, he was coming on your tongue and moaning out your name.

You swallowed every drop and slowed your strokes on his cock. You suckled his tip. He winced at the sensitivity. You kissed his tip and rested your cheek on his thigh.

"Shit." You said.

He laughed and combed your messy hair out of your face. You looked up at him and sleepily smiled.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N."

Your cheeks heated up, and you kissed his thigh in reply.

"You did such a good job, baby."

"I don't think my legs work."

He helped you stand up and kissed you gently on the lips. You smiled and gave him a small peck. "Thank you."

"I should be thanking you, love," He chuckled.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

He carried you into your room and set you on the bed. He walked into your ensuite bathroom and came back out with a washcloth. He wiped you down between your legs. You whimpered at how sensitive and sore you were.

He gave you his t-shirt to put on and a pair of clean panties. He pulled his briefs back on and laid on the bed.

"Let's sleep. I'm fucking exhausted." He said. You giggled and lifted the covers so he could get under with you.

You both got under the covers and cuddled up close to each other. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him.

"Harry?" You whispered.

He hummed.

"Will you be here in the morning?" You asked quietly.

"Of course, darling. Although, I should get you back for leaving me." He teased you.

You groaned, "I still feel bad about that. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Y/N. Just don't let it happen again."

You giggled and turned around so you could face him. He was the prettiest man you've ever seen.

"Thank you." He said.

Your eyes widen, "Oh, my God. Did I say that out loud?"

He laughed, "Yes, but it's okay. You're the prettiest woman I've ever seen."

You rolled your eyes, "Whatever."

"I'm serious, darling. You're stunning. You make me so nervous."

Your cheeks heat up at his confession. Without thinking, you lean forward and kiss the corner of his mouth.

His brows raise.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't- I shouldn't have done that. I wasn't thinking-"

He cuts you off by kissing you softly on the lips. Your lips move together gently. He pulls back after a few minutes of softly making out.

"It's okay." He whispers against your lips.

You were scared. You weren't supposed to like him this much. He was supposed to be a one night stand.

Harry was scared also. He's never been in a relationship. He's been on many dates, but none of them piqued his interest. He's never felt this way about anyone, and he's only known you for a week or so.

You smile and rest your head against his chest. He kisses the top of your head and wraps his arms around your body.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, love."

You both were so fucked.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut

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rodeoxqueen · 4 years ago

Text

SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT

Nero/Kyrie

“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.”

Rodeo’s Two Pieces:

First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic.

(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies.

Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most.

“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat.

“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point?

Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.”

“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed.

“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.”

“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.”

The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually.

“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards.

“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.”

Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table.

Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore.

He opted for a cup of water instead.

Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail.

“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread.

“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth.

“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.”

“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears.

“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl.

A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island.

“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar.

“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.”

Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell.

“It’s yeast alright.”

Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips.

“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.”

Nero shrugged.

“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.”

“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.”

Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing.

Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven.

Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.

“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it.

“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee.

Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth.

“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.”

“Support local businesses, Nero.”

He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume.

Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies.

“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee.

When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee.

Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip.

“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie.

Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work.

“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned.

The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma.

(II)- Curl Up And Dye.

After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more.

They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter.

After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company.

“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless.

“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.”

Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement.

“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath.

“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course.”

While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims.

“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled.

So here they were now.

“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head.

“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered.

“Um, what did you try to do-”

“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands.

Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair.

Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out.

“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut.

“There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.”

Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly.

Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath.

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed.

Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless.

No one liked being helpless.

He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head.

“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise.

“What?”

“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more.

Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity.

“What color, Nero?”

“Neon green-”

“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly.

“I don’t mind it.”

(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It.

“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.”

“Shut up, Dante.”

His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call.

His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.

“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off.

“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard.

Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell.

“Nice broccoli head.”

Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat.

As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero.

It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said.

“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.”

Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk.

“Kyrie, wait-”

“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.”

Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response.

“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them.

“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed.

“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.”

“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured.

The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing.

Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.”

Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke.

“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick.

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history.

“Where do we even start?” Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress.

Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally.

Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some.

“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.

Nero chuckled.

“Hell yeah.”

#nirvana and dominic fike reference?#nirvana and dominic fike reference #not much vergil in this work i do not care for the man today #nero x kyrie #nerokiri #devil may cry #devil may cry fanfiction #nero sparda #kyrie #dmc kyrie #dante sparda #vergil sparda #nicoletta goldstein

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writing-red · 4 years ago

Text

from the dining table

draco malfoy x reader (mentions of harry potter x reader)

summary: You and Draco broke up and he is trying desperately to get in touch with you even though he knows exactly why you aren’t picking up the phone (song fic based on harry styles’ from the dining table)

request: @runninglownad hii! can i request a draco imagine based on from the dining table by harry? thanks sooo much <3

warnings: this is super angsty, breakup, toxic relationship, sad anger and drinking

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! and photo credit to @fixedunit

word count: 2.1k

Woke up alone in this hotel room

Played with myself, where were you?

It was seven when Draco finally decided to stop fighting the insomnia. Thoughts of you claiming his mind and making him entirely unable to find sleep. The white hotel sheets were curled around him, pillows on the floor, broken glass shattered around him like an unholy halo, and the room in total disarray. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to do with himself, unsure of what to do with himself now that he had lost you. He so desperately wished that he could squeeze his eyes shut only to open them and find you laying there next to him, wishing desperately to see that incredible beaming smile of yours, the one that would turn your cheeks rosy red.

He rose from the bed and navigated around the mess on the floor to get to the bar in the room. With a heavy hand he poured himself a scotch, as he continued to think of you; the feeling of your lips on his, the lines of witty banter you always seemed to whip out of nowhere, and the idea that he may never hear the rasp of your voice in the morning again.

Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon

I’ve never felt less cool

He abandoned the glass dragged the bottle back to the bed, putting on the television as a distraction. He couldn’t seem to find a program that didn’t make him think of you, he couldn’t get the sound of your sweet and joyous laugh echoing through whatever space you held.

Tears streamed down his face as he downed the scotch, he felt like an absolute child. Crying over a girl, drinking, and sleeping. The pattern was pathetic and the last thing Draco Malfoy was, was pathetic. Yet it seems you could reduce him down to a blubbering child and all he would think of is how terribly he missed you, and how badly he wanted to smell your deep ambrosial perfume. By the time he woke up again the digital clock next to the bed was flashing 12:13 as if it was mocking him, goading him to wake up and get over himself.

We haven’t spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won’t you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Your voicemail, the one you had recorded with him, your voice was happy, and it sounded as if you would never be sad again.

“You’ve got Y/n” joyful, happy, in love. “I am buuuuusy and I am so very sorry I missed your call but shoot me a text or leave a voicemail after the beep and we shall speak at another time! Thanks.”

“Y/n, darling?” he muttered. “Look I know that I fucked up, and that you don’t want to talk but can we please just go get coffee, I want to see you, and I don’t want to end things on that note. Please, I know that we aren’t getting back together, I just, Y/n I need to see you.”

“You’ve got Y/n! I am buuuuusy and I am so very sorry I missed your call but shoot me a text or leave a voicemail after the beep and we shall speak at another time! Thanks,” Draco was mocked by the shrill beep that followed the sound of your voice.

“Hey, I’m sorry about all the voicemail’s and all of the text messages, if you don’t want to see me please just tell me so. Look I just, Y/n, I am miserable and I really just want to apologize for everything face to face. Please don’t just ignore me.”

“You’ve got Y/n! I am buuuuusy and I am so very sorry I missed your call but shoot me a text or leave a voicemail after the beep and we shall speak at another time! Thanks,” Draco listened solemnly as the voicemail played wishing this wasn’t the only way he could hear your voice.

“Look, I get it if you don’t want to talk to me, just, tell me yourself don’t just ignore me. Please,” he was desperate, to see you without tears streaming down your face, tears he had caused.

I saw your friend that you know from work

He said you feel just fine

I see you gave him my old t-shirt

More of what was once mine

Weeks past and Draco didn’t hear back from you. He knew that you were forcing him to move on and he didn’t want to accept it but he knew that he had no other choice. He was back to work, back to normal, although no matter what he did he couldn’t seem to get the thought of you out his head. He was drinking, more than usual, smoking more than usual, and he had destroyed his fair share of hotel rooms. It was time for him to start living his life again.

You had always loved coffee, going to coffee shops, trying out different drinks, people watching, you had made the whole ordeal a habit for Draco and now it was a way for him to hold onto you. He thought that if he was lucky enough he’d catch you at one of them.

Today he went before work, luckily he had skipped the morning coffee shop rush and there were just a few other people inside the shop.

“I’ll have a black drip coffee, and a croissant,” he said, handing the barista money.

“Here’s your change, and it’ll all come up at that bar over there,” she said gesturing to the end of the bar.

“Thanks,” Draco said kindly as he stepped over to where the barista had gestured to wait for his order.

“Malfoy,” he heard a familiar voice.

“Potter,” Draco said, surprised to see the man you had both gone to school with, and who you now worked with.

“Nice to see you, what have you been up to recently” Harry asked him.

“Just work,” Draco observed Harry, the man he had always been so jealous of, for a moment when his eyes caught something similar. “That’s a bit of a posh shirt for you isn’t it?”

“Ah- it was in Y/n’s flat, I mean she gave it to me because it was in her flat and it’s my size and all that.”

“Got it. I think that’s mine,” he said, his eyes still on the shirt as the barista placed his coffee and pastry on the bar in front of them. “Tell Y/n I say hi?”

“Sure thing mate, she’s uh doing pretty alright,” Harry offered and Draco nodded, swiftly exiting the coffee shop refusing the urge to start crying over you again.

I see it’s written, it’s all over his face

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won’t you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Potter. You had to choose Potter of all the men you knew to sleep with. It was as if you were trying to hurt him, trying to drive the knife further into his heart. That night Draco proceeded to call you all of thirteen times, four of the calls sober, and the other nine varying levels of drunk until he finally blacked out.

All he wanted was to hold you one more time, to hear you talk over a movie, shout out the lyrics to some old Bon Jovi song, watch you dance atop your kitchen table, you were always the perfect antagonist to silence and now it seemed that silence was all he could hear. People would speak to him and he couldn’t hear it, he would try and remember the sound of you, your singing, your voice, your laugh, but his memories of you were only pictures.

Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too

But you, you never do

The ringer on his phone was always on, and when it buzzed he picked it up as quickly as a man could. Although, he was routinely disappointed to find that it was either Blaise, his boss, his mum, or a hotel calling to let him know of the damages done and the charges he would incur. But it didn’t matter, none of those calls mattered because they weren't you.

He just wanted you back, and all he could do was call and call, while picturing you lying in Harry Potter’s arms. You had chosen to be with Potter, and you had chosen to leave Draco, and Draco just couldn’t cope with your choices.

Woke up the girl who looked just like you

I almost said your name

He didn’t know this ones name, and he didn’t know the last one’s name. These girls that circled through his bed, each of them vaguely resembling you in one way or another. Today he awoke to seeing your nose, and your hair on someone else. Sleeping with these women upset him more than it comforted him, but it was at least something to do with himself.

“Y/-” he stopped himself. “Hey, I’ve got to go to work.” He said, shaking the girl awake.

“Can’t I just leave after you?” She groaned, her eyes still closed.

“No, get up,” Draco said as he got out of bed and pulled the duvet off of her. “Now,”

“Fine, I’m going,” she said, taking her time to draw herself up. “And I promise I won’t be back.”

And there she went, another person lost whether he wanted her or not. All he knew how to do was drive people away. He didn’t want to get over you, ever since your trip to New York you had been the love of his life. But now he resolved to living his life as a ghost, constantly in terrible silence without you.

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won’t you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Taglist - @sarcasticallywitty15 @fred-love-bot

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy angst #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #from the dining table

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honeytea8 · 4 years ago

Note

Could I get Bucci gang reacting to a S/o who’s usually really sweet and hyper, and one day comes home super drunk/high off her ass and like she’s being really possessive over them? I.e, literally clinging to them like a koala and staring down anyone who tries to talk to them?

Absolutely! I loved writing this request btw 🤣💗 Super funny!

Bruno Bucciarati

Good lord, he will be worried. “Are you okay? What brought this on? What happened??”

When you let him know you’re just drunk or high, he’ll sigh and shake his head, and be resigned to taking care of you for the night so you don’t hurt yourself.

With you being suddenly clingy and possessive, he’ll be a bit surprised but will simply rub your back and try to get you to calm down

“Please y/n, no need to bite Leone, he’s only bringing your food like I asked.”

Expect him to hover around you like a mother hen so you don’t choke on your vomit!

You make him cuddle with you the entire night but he won’t get a wink of sleep, out of his worry for you.

And when you wake up in the morning expect a mild scolding for your behavior. Afterwards, he’ll treat you to breakfast so you can get some food in your system.

“Next time, bring a plus-one if you’re going out drinking. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, cara.”

Leone Abbacchio

Let’s be honest, he’s probably drunk with you!

But I also imagine his tolerance is way higher than yours. He’s somewhat of a professional at this lol

He’ll act like you being clingy is annoying the hell out of him and may shove you off once or twice. When you keep coming back he just gives up and takes it lmao

Will chuckle a bit when you growl at people to leave him alone (thinks he has a personal guard dog now smh)

“Yeah, you heard her. Now fuck off, Giovanna.”

Y’all are a drunk mess together because neither of you are in the right headspace to take care of anyone.

It’s a rough night for everyone else involved too. You and Leone are a handful!

You both pass out on the couch cuddled up in each other’s arms, maybe you drool a bit, maybe he snores and maybe Narancia has an incriminating photo you won’t see until your birthday 💀

Don Giorno Giovanna

Chances are if you come back high, he’ll be upset with you. His stance on drugs is firm and he’ll be alarmed, wanting to know what made you do it.

If you’re drunk, he will be mildly intrigued by your antics, and will take note of this different side of your personality.

Like Bruno he will be concerned for your well being but Gio considers you grown enough to know what you’re getting into. Mostly. So, he may not totally baby you.

He will indulge your clinginess, however, if you want to cuddle or hug him, he certainly won’t push you away. Giorno may even let you sit on his lap while he works.

Depending on the extent (or your behavior), he might be tempted to use Golden Experience on you to mitigate the effects of the alcohol lmao especially when you become really protective.

“Mista’s here to do his job, y/n, you can’t just order him to leave.” Look closely and you’ll catch him hiding a smirk.

Pannacotta Fugo

Will literally want to smack you upside the head, it takes everything in him not to do it though. But he will interrogate you!

“What were you thinking, y/n? Why didn’t you call me? This isn’t funny, you know!”

Fugo will try to take care of you but ultimately cannot handle you in this state. You’re already a hyperactive ball of energy when sober. The drunken version of you is like something straight out of a nightmare.

Fugo will eventually call for backup—anyone who can come help reign you in.

He’s definitely surprised when you start getting possessive and won’t leave him alone. Fugo will get a bit frustrated at how difficult you’re being.

“Y/n, Bucciarati is here to help, so sit still and stop glaring at him.”

It’s safe to say that Fugo doesn’t get any sleep either. He’s got his hands full with you, literally, since you're clinging to him the whole night. When you wake up with a hangover, he laughs as he pours you a cup of chamomile tea.

Retribution is so sweet.

Narancia Ghirga

Dude, Nara is positively losing it!

He’s got his phone out and ready to record/take pictures of you utterly making a fool of yourself.

At first, he doesn’t notice anything wrong, I mean, yeah you’re acting a bit loopy, but you’ve always been hyperactive and super fun to hang around, so that isn’t unusual.

It’ll take Bruno or Mista telling him that you are in fact drunk/high for him to realize and even then, it doesn’t quite hit him until you nearly smack Fugo for touching him.

He'll be a bit caught off guard because you’re normally so nice and sweet. You’ve never tried to hit any of them before.

“Woah there! Y/n, what’s gotten into you?” and “Better watch out Fugo, or else hehehe!” is what he’ll probably say.

When you cling to Narancia, Narancia clings back. He loves cuddling and hugging you and won’t mind the clinginess at all; he can be that way too sometimes.

By the end, you and Nara are curled up in his bed after a night full of hilarity and chaos.

Guido Mista

I imagine Mista will take everything in stride, as long as you’re uninjured, of course. And so, he’ll probably make a joke about you “having all the fun” without him.

He’ll pretty much be goofy and playful the entire time.

Mista will definitely try to get some food in you to help get you sober. Either he’ll whip something up or he’ll order take out. He also jokingly tries to feed you too.

He’s definitely willing to let you hang off him like a koala, in fact, he’ll offer you a piggyback ride and let you sit on his lap if you want.

Mista will get a bit concerned, though, when you almost yell at Abbacchio for telling him to move out of the way, but he’ll laugh it off in the end.

“Aww, babe, you look so cute defending me like that!”

The next day will be hilarious, only because Mista will continuously bring up the cute/funny stuff you did while drunk. It’ll be one of his favorite stories to tell.

#giorno giovanna #leone abbacchio #bruno bucciarati #pannacotta fugo #narancia ghirga #guido mista #jojo headcanons #honeycanons #anon #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #leone abbacchio x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #pannacotta fugo x reader #narancia ghirga x reader #guido mista x reader

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kpopimaginings · 4 years ago

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SuJu Reaction: S/O can’t get hold of them and panics

A/N: So, this is my first reaction post, so big thanks to the anon who requested it. I may have got a little carried away, so some of these are kinda long for a reaction, but I was having fun. Hope you all enjoy.

I’m putting this all under a cut because TRIGGER WARNING: depression, suicide, anxiety and panic attacks. I promise they are actually fluffy and cute in the end.

Prologue: Super Junior were incredibly busy preparing for a comeback, and you knew your boyfriend was stressed and drained, worrying about making sure everything was perfect for the fans. The trouble was, you knew all too well how quickly that could lead to conditions like anxiety and depression, and, in the case of your best friend, suicide. You’d lost them when you were a teenager and as hard as you tried to move on the trauma of the loss was still something you caried with you. This is why you found yourself texting your boyfriend regularly, just making sure that he was ok and he and his members were looking after themselves. But when three texts in a row and a phone call went unanswered you found yourself starting to panic and desperately needed some sort of confirmation that he was ok, and most importantly alive.

Leeteuk

When you burst into the studio that evening, Leeteuk was the only one still there, but honestly you were grateful for it. When you saw him you were torn between relief that he was fine and anger over being ignored.

“Where are the others? And more importantly why weren’t you answering me?”

“Hey, babe,” said Leeteuk, looking over to you as you spoke. “I sent them home, we’ve been really busy, I thought they could do with a rest. I’ve just been finishing up, I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“For once, can you please worry about yourself as much as you do other people? I’ve been going crazy, knowing how stressed you’ve been, knowing you probably aren’t taking proper care of yourself, and then you don’t answer me and… Teuk, anything could have happened to you.”

As you poured out your feelings you felt the tears you’d been fighting back starting to surface and Leeteuk suddenly realised what was happening. You’d opened up to him before about what had happened in your past and he was cursing himself for putting you through this.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said rushing to take you in his arms. “I’m here with you now, see? Everything’s ok. I’m ok.”

He ran a soothing hand through your hair as you tried to calm down. “How about I take you home and we cook a nice nutritional meal together, yeah?”

You nodded, as he cupped your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

Heechul

The moment you walked into the studio, Heechul appeared by your side, despite the fact that he was definitely meant to be helping with recording.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he greeted, giving you a quick kiss. “Are you ok?”

“I’ve sent you three texts, and tried to call you, and I haven’t heard from you at all,” you told him, stoically.

Heechul’s eyes grew wide as he realised what he’d done.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve been recording, I should have warned you I wouldn’t be able to reply much today.”

“Heechul!” came a sudden shout from Shindong, “You live with her, you’ll see plenty of her later, we need you!”

“So does Y/n,” Heechul shouted back.

“You are so whipped,” Shindong muttered, before raising his voice again, “You were literally in the middle of something.”

Heechul grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the room, ignoring his members completely.

“What do you need?” he asked you.

You smiled softly. “I needed to know you were ok.”

“I am, I promise.”

“Ok, don’t work too hard,” you smiled, turning to leave.

Heechul caught your hand again before you could get too far away.

“I know you don’t think you’re leaving without kissing me goodbye.”

You rolled your eyes, but gave him a kiss all same.

“Shindong’s right, you are whipped,” you laughed.

“No, I just love you,” Heechul replied. “A lot. Are you sure you’ll be ok?”

“I’m sure, just come straight home when you’re done?”

“Why wouldn’t I if I know you’re there waiting for me?”

Yesung

You and Yesung had always been very open with each other, so you knew how hard he was on himself and he knew what had happened with your friend. This made the fact that you haven’t heard from him even more worrying.

You snuck into their rehearsal space, not wanting to interrupt but needing to see him and know he was ok. Eunhyuk spotted you and nudged his hyung, pointing in your direction.

Yesung ran over to you, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“Are you ok?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

When you told him he’s missed your texts and call, he knew exactly where your mind had gone.

“Oh no, baby, I’m so sorry,” he told you, looking even more distraught than you. “We’ve been so busy and I’m so stressed about all this and I’m just trying to make this comeback the best yet. I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted. I can’t imagine what I’ve put you through.”

Before you knew what was happening, Yesung was crying.

“I just needed to know you were ok,” you told him pulling him into a hug. “I wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard, then I wouldn’t worry as much. The fans love you no matter what.”

“I know,” he sniffled. “But they’ve supported us for so long now they deserve so much.”

“I guarantee they feel the same way about you, too,” you told him.

At that point Leeteuk came over, Yesung still in your embrace.

“I think you should take him home,” Leeteuk told you.

“I’m fine,” said Yesung, quickly straightening and trying to tidy himself up. “We haven’t finished yet.”

“Well, I’m the leader, and I’ve decided you’ve finished.”

“Thank you,” you told Leeteuk, when Yesung gave up and gathered his things.

“I think you both need it, just relax together,” he advised.

You couldn’t argue with that, as you and your boyfriend headed home for a nice quiet afternoon.

Shindong

You burst into the room where Super Junior were rehearsing to find them all healthy and staring at you.

"Y/n?" said your boyfriend, stepping forward. "What happened? Are you ok?"

"If you could actually answer my texts and calls, I would be," you snapped.

Shindong headed over to his discarded jacket and pulled his phone from the pocket.

“Three missed texts and you’re acting like the worlds going to end?” he quipped, seeing his notifications.

“Mine could!” you shouted.

You thought you'd calm down once you knew he was ok, but his blasé manner was only distressing you more.

“What?” asked Shindong, thoroughly confused.

You grabbed his hand and quickly dragged him away from the rest of group. Once out of their earshot, you began telling him what had happened in your past, and by the end you were sobbing.

“I can’t lose you too,” you cried, and Shindong wrapped you in his embrace.

“Sweetie, I had no idea,” he said, soft boyfriend mode engaged. “I’m so sorry you suffered through that. But thank you for being brave enough to tell me. I can take special care to stay in touch now, alright?”

“Thank you,” you told him sniffing as the tears started to die down. "I just worry. You get so stressed trying to make everything perfect, and I don't want it to all get too much for you."

"I promise I will never get that stressed," he assured you, still holding you tight. "Especially knowing I have you looking out for me."

Eunhyuk

When you walked into the dance studio and saw Eunhyuk alive and well, you breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing that he knew about your past, you knew he’d have a good excuse.

Once he’d finished talking to the guys, he jogged over to you.

“Hey, jagi,” he greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t replying to me,” you told him. “I had to make sure you were ok.”

His face fell, realising what your words implied. He tried not to make too big of a deal or overreact because he knew you wouldn’t want to make a scene. It was a private matter and not something the other guys needed to be privy to.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’ve been trying to help Leeteuk keep an eye on everyone and get the dance moves down. You know how much Leeteuk stresses.”

You smiled. “I know. But I know you’ve been stressed too. Don’t overdo it, please. I quite like having you for a boyfriend.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he told you with a hug. “Now why don’t you go home, and I’ll come by after practice and you can help me destress,” he winked.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s a good job I love you, Lee Hyukjae.”

“I’m a lucky man,” he replied, giving you a quick kiss, before returning to his work.

Donghae

You marched into the studio and straight up to your boyfriend.

“Have you not checked your phone?” you asked immediately, not even saying hello first.

As much as you were pleased to find him ok, you were a little annoyed to find him laughing and joking with his members, instead of actually working. You would have been more understanding if he’d not seen your call because he was busy preparing for the comeback.

“Yes, why?” he asked. Knowing full well that he had three texts and a missed call from you.

“I’ve been trying to get hold of you.”

“I know.”

You snapped at that point. “You know? What do you mean you know? If you know you should answer! Or is this your way of trying to dump me, because I swear Donghae, if you knew… What if…” you trailed off as your anger gave way to tears and Donghae quickly wrapped his arms around you to comfort you.

“It was a prank,” he told you. “I wanted to see how you’d react. I didn’t expect it to end like this.”

“I thought you’d died,” you squeaked.

“What?” he asked in surprise. “Why would you think that? What’s going on?”

You shook your head.

“Babe, I’m sorry that I’ve upset you it was never my intention. But I need you to tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it and make sure it never happens again.”

You gestured to the rest of the guys, some of whom were clearly listening in, and Donghae got your meaning, pulling you out of the room. Once free from his nosy members, he gave you an expectant look.

You quickly recounted the bare minimum of what he needed to know.

“I never meant to scare you,” he said softly.

“I know, I’m sorry I yelled.”

“No it’s fine, of course you shouted at me. I promise it won’t happen again. There may be a delay in my replying if I’m halfway through something, but I won’t knowingly ignore you.”

“Thank you for understanding,” you told him, before he pulled you in for another hug.

Siwon

When you finally tracked Siwon down you found him talking to someone on his phone. You walked over to him and weakly slapped his arm.

“I’ve got to go, thank you so much,” he said to whoever was on the other end of the phone before hanging up. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“You’re on your phone,” you pointed out in a more aggressive tone than you had intended.

“Yes, I was,” Siwon confirmed, very confused.

“So, you’ve seen my messages and you’re just choosing to ignore me?”

“No, no, I’m not ignoring you, I’m just… busy.”

“Not too busy to take other people’s calls.”

“I was busy because I was making the call,” he tried to explain. “I didn’t realise you needed an urgent reply. Is there something else going on?”

Having seen your texts, Siwon had assumed you were just checking in and couldn’t work out why it was such a big deal that he hadn’t replied straight away.

“No, you first, what are you hiding?” you asked, crossing your arms defensively.

Siwon hesitated, making it clear there was something he wasn’t telling you. “I’m actually planning a surprise for you,” he admitted with a sigh. “I realise being an idol in the middle of a comeback makes me a rather lousy boyfriend and I wanted to make up for it.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “I’m not good with surprises,” you mumbled.

Siwon just stepped closer to you, seeing that you had now calmed down. “It’s not going to be anything over the top, and it only involves the two of us. I know you aren’t a big fan of too much attention,” he explained. “Now, can you tell me why you were so upset?” he asked you, gently rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.

You nodded and quickly explained that you had panicked and why. “Can you tell me what you are planning?” you added with a slight pout.

Siwon sighed. “Will it make you feel better?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Tomorrow evening, I’m taking you out to dinner,” he told you. “I’ve bought out the whole restaurant for the night, so it will literally be just us. It’s an excuse to get a bit dressed up, which we haven’t done for a while, and you won’t have to worry about staring.”

With a small smile, you looked up at him with tears forming in your eyes. “That’s a really lovely surprise,” you told him.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tight. “You’re really special to me, and I want you to know that. Whenever I picture a future, you’re in it, so I’m really pleased you’ve opened up to me today. Now I can make sure not to worry you again.”

Ryeowook

When you arrived at the practice room, hoping you’d find you boyfriend well and rehearsing, even though you worried you wouldn’t, your worry just took on a whole new form.

Ryeowook was sat watching the rehearsal with his leg raised and an ice pack on his ankle. Completely forgetting that you were probably interrupting you rushed over to him.

“Wook, what happened?”

“Hey,” he said in a surprised tone when he noticed you. “I just twisted my ankle while dancing. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been trying to get hold of you. You weren’t answering so I panicked,” you told him.

He knew what you meant straight away.

“Ah, my phone is over there with all my stuff,” he said pointing. “I’m not ignoring you, I always try to respond, and I’m sorry I couldn’t get to my phone.”

“I know, it’s ok, you’re injured,” you assured him. “At least my panic wasn’t totally uncalled for though.”

He smiled at you in a comforting manner before turning to his members.

“Guys, do we think y/n could stay with me while I watch the choreography?” he asked.

“That’s not a bad idea,” agreed Leeteuk. “Stops me worrying about you as much.”

You laughed slightly, before quickly pulling another chair over to where your boyfriend was sat and taking his hand in yours.

“And now you’ll worry less because you know I’m right here,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Thank you,” you said softly, pleased your boyfriend could support you through moments like this.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “And thank you for caring enough about me to worry.”

Kyuhyun

You had assumed the guys were doing dance rehearsals, so when you arrived at their usual studio only to find it empty, your panic increased. You pulled out your phone, trying Kyuhyun again. You cursed multiple time times listening to the ring before hanging up at his voicemail message.

Out of desperation you pulled up your contacts to call one of the other guys, which ended up being Donghae.

“Y/n?” he answered immediately.

“Thank god,” you sighed in relief at managing to get hold of someone. “Is Kyuhyun with you?”

Donghae laughed slightly, “Yeah, has the idiot not taken his phone off silent?”

“I can’t get hold of him.”

Donghae quickly passed his phone to Kyuhyun, sensing you weren’t in the mood for a general chat with him.

“Kyuhyun! I have been trying to get hold of you all morning. What the hell is going on?” you yelled as soon as you heard him on the other end.

“Calm down, we’ve been in meetings all morning, so my phones been on silent, and now we’re grabbing lunch before a quick practice and then schedules,” he explained. “What’s so important?”

“Nothing. I mean, it’s not- I-,” you could feel yourself suddenly struggling for breath.

“Ok, it’s clearly not nothing,” your boyfriend said, recognising the signs of your panic attack even over the phone. “Where are you?”

“Dance studio,” you just about managed to tell him.

“I’m only two roads over, I’ll be right there, just keep breathing.”

With that Kyuhyun hung up, giving Donghae his phone back and rushing out of the restaurant.

By the time he reached you you had calmed down slightly, just telling yourself over and over that he was fine, and he was alive.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, as soon as he reached you, knowing that physical contact didn’t always help when you were in this state.

You nodded giving him permission to pull you into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get your messages. Do you want to tell me brought this on?”

“I thought,” your voice shook as you spoke. “I thought, maybe, I’d lost you.”

“Lost me?” he asked.

You did your best to recount losing your best friend and Kyuhyun just held you tighter.

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” he sighed. “We’ve all lost people, I understand.”

After a moments silence between you, he spoke again. “Are you hungry?”

You nodded.

“I didn’t finish my meal either,” he told you. “Let’s go eat together, and I’ll let Leeteuk know I’ll catch up with them at schedules.”

“No, you can’t. Your work,” you protested.

“Right now, you are more important than practice. I’ve done the important boring meetings, and I’ll be there later for the recordings, they can rehearsals do without me for a couple of hours.”

You finally smiled then, holding him a little tighter, before pulling away and letting him lead you to your favourite restaurant for lunch.

NAVIGATION | SUPER JUNIOR MASTERLIST

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writerofthecourt · 4 years ago

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bento boxes, from me to you

pairing: miya osamu x reader

summary: osamu receives a bento box from you. it’s too bad you can’t cook to save your life

warning: some swearing

a/n: i just wanted an excuse to write about food. also, writing out kansai-ben is so hard. how do other people do this??

Osamu loved food.

Of all the things in this world, food was probably one of Osamu’s top priority, triumphing even over his own twin brother. Then again, there were plenty of things in this world that Osamu loved more than Atsumu, but that was a conversation for another day. In any case, Osamu really loved food, whether it be cheap convenience store egg sandwiches, hearty tonkatsu ramen, or his mom’s home cooked meals. He had no particular preference when it came to food. To Osamu, all food was delicious and should be appreciated equally.

So imagine his surprise when he had entered his classroom from early morning practice, only to find a sizable bento box sitting on top of his desk, daintily wrapped in a simple blue cloth. Suna, who was also in his class, walked in following Osamu and raised a curious eyebrow at the box in question.

Now, Osamu was no stranger to receiving gifts from fans, it came with the territory of being a starting lineup member on a nationally recognized volleyball team. Nevertheless, he still made it a habit to never accept gifts in the form of food. Inarizaki fans could be a bit enthusiastic, and he didn’t want to set a precedent. One bento box today could mean eight bento boxes tomorrow, and he didn’t want to waste all of that food.

However, his wariness soon transformed into amusement and delight once he saw the little note and familiar handwriting peeking out from underneath the bento box. Grabbing it, Osamu read your note.

‘samu,

you need more than just yakisoba bread for lunch! good luck with practice this afternoon, i’ll be cheering you on

-love, [y/n]

p.s. there’s enough for ‘tsumu and suna if they want. sharing is caring

Osamu fondly smiled at your note. He couldn’t wait for lunch.

When lunchtime finally rolled around, Osamu was beyond excited to uncover what kind of culinary concoction you had cooked up for him. Although he was more than capable of cooking himself a proper lunch, volleyball practice usually left him too sore and exhausted to put his culinary skills to use. His parents were also too busy with work, often leaving him and Asumu with some money to buy lunch before heading off to their respective workplaces.

Therefore, to have a home cooked meal for lunch after so long, excitement didn’t even begin to describe what Osamu was feeling at that moment. While his face remained neutral, the anticipation that radiated off of the grey haired Miya was evident enough for Suna to give him a weird look as he pulled up a seat next to Osamu’s desk.

“Hey,” Atsumu greeted as he entered the partially busy classroom and situated himself on the chair of the unoccupied desk in front of Osamu. “The hell’s that?”

“I think [Y/N] made him a bento box,” Suna explained as he unwrapped his own bento box. After a quiet prayer of thanks, Suna dug into his lunch and contently ate away at his humble meal of rice, seasoned vegetables, and grilled salmon.

“Ugh, couples,” Atsumu groaned, tearing open the plastic packaging of his store bought katsu sandwich.

Rolling his eyes at his twin’s behaviour, Osamu offered up a quick prayer of thanks as well before he unwrapped and opened his bento box. What he was greeted with was truly…something.

Noticing Osamu’s blank stare, Atsumu and Suna looked down at Osamu’s lunch before the blond Miya burst out into a deafening guffaw that made the other students of the classroom glance at the trio with strange looks.

The bento box, while containing the usual rice, vegetables, and proteins, also shamelessly gave away tell-tale signs that you weren’t exactly skilled in the kitchen. The carrots and cucumbers were sliced hilariously uneven, the tamagoyaki looked like a misshapen lump of egg, and the poor, poor octopus sausages. Yet the greatest offender would have to be the nori decorated illustration you had tried to top the rice with. Was that supposed to be him?

“Oh my god, i-it’s ‘Samu!” Atsumu wheezed, trying to catch his breath. “I-I always knew ya were ugly, but I-I didn’t think [Y/N] would actually agree with me!”

“We have the same face, dumbass,” Osamu retorted with a scowl.

Atsumu continued to laugh away, clutching his chair for support while Osamu glared daggers into his brother’s face. Suna, on the other hand, simply whipped out his phone and snapped a not-so-stealthy picture of Osamu’s lunch. He stared at it for a bit before grimacing.

“Yikes,” Suna whispered as he expertly tapped away at his phone before returning it to his pocket and resuming his lunch.

Osamu scoffed at Atsumu and Suna’s antics. Surely, it tasted better than it looked. Gathering a little bit of everything, Osamu shoved the ball of food into his mouth and immediately regretted it. The rice was overly mushy, the tamagoyaki was too sweet, the sausages were burnt, and the vegetables had a bitter, medicinal taste to them. Simply put, everything was terrible.

Shooting up from his desk, Osamu immediately charged out of the classroom, looking pale and sweaty, with a hand over his mouth to prevent his food from making a reappearance.

Watching Osamu leave, Atsumu and Suna looked at each other in horror before glancing back at the supposedly innocent bento box. They then proceeded to back away from it as if it was now emanating some sort of dark and menacing aura.

“…I’ll give you ¥500 if you eat a piece of the tamagoyaki,” Suna challenged.

“Bet!”

Atsumu quickly followed after his brother.

As the school bell rang, signalling the end of the day, Osamu slowly packed up his things, being careful not to make any sudden movements that would further upset his stomach. Despite everything Osamu had gone through, he still managed to somehow finish off your bento box, not wanting to let your hard work go to waste.

Practice was in thirty minutes, and Atsumu stood outside of the classroom door, yelling at his brother and Suna to hurry it up so that they wouldn’t be late.

“Ya look like shit,” Atsumu remarked once Osamu and Suna exited the classroom.

I feel like shit, Osamu thought, clutching his stomach as it let out an upset rumble.

Before he could even respond, a sweet voice from down the hall redirected his attention.

“‘Samu!” you called out as you reached the three volleyball players. “And ‘Tsumu and Suna, of course.”

Osamu smiled as you wrapped your arms around his waist and beamed up at him. He greeted you back before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Whipped!” Atsumu mocked as Suna, who stood beside him, made a whipping motion with his hand.

“Yer just mad that ya can’t make any lasting relationships and that yer last girlfriend broke up with ya for a co-worker,” Osamu shot back immediately, not missing a beat.

Atsumu stared at his brother in shock, failing to say anything in retort. With an angry huff, he marched towards the direction of the gym, calling for Suna to follow after him. Suna simply rolled his eyes before nodding goodbye to you and Osamu as he headed off to catch up with Atsumu.

You waved Suna farewell before leaning against your boyfriend as he led you to a less populated section of the hallway.

“So,” you began eagerly. “Did’ja like the bento box I made ya?”

“Yeah,” Osamu flawlessly lied, no longer looking at your face as the guilt consumed him. Reaching into his bag, he held out the bento box for you to take, all neatly wrapped up in its signature blue cloth once again.

“That’s great!” you beamed while taking the bento box from him. “I stayed up all night making sure that it was perfect. I wasn’t sure about the seasoning, but I’m glad it turned out well!”

As you animatedly chattered away about all of the steps that you had gone through in order to make his lunch, Osamu couldn’t help but notice the several bandages covering your fingers.

“What happened to yer fingers?” Osamu asked, his voice laced with concern. He took a hold of your hand, running his thumb across the smooth texture of one of the many bandages.

“Oh,” your face began to heat up with embarrassment, “I-I kinda cut myself while cooking, but it’s okay! Yer worth it, ‘Samu.”

“What d’ya mean by that?” he asked, confused by your last statement.

“Well, yer always hard at work with volleyball,” you explained with a proud look on your face. “Tournaments are coming up soon, and I know that practice will only get tougher from here on out! I just wanted to help ya in any way that I could. A growing athlete needs a proper meal, so…”

Smiling shyly to yourself, you no longer looked at Osamu, choosing instead to stare off to the side in embarrassment at your own confession. Osamu couldn’t help but feel his heart palpitating in his chest. All this effort, all those cuts, they were all for him because you loved and cared for him.

“[Y/N],” Osamu whispered, leaning down to wrap his arms around your frame.

Stop it, he told himself. Tell her the truth.

Digging his face into your neck, Osamu placed a soft kiss on the exposed landscape of your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank ya. I’d be more than happy if ya kept cooking for me, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Shaking your head, you brought up a hand to run your fingers through Osamu’s soft locks. “Not at all! I’d be happy to!”

Osamu smiled. “I’m glad.”

He was so fucked.

As the week went on, your bento boxes became a permanent fixture in Osamu’s life, greeting him every morning as he entered the classroom, its soft, blue cloth taunting him and mocking him as he pushed himself to eat every single one of your meals. Atsumu called him crazy for putting himself into this situation, while Suna took some sort of sadistic pleasure in recording his struggles with your cooking.

“Just tell [Y/N] the truth!” Atsumu told him one time during practice when Osamu had to sit out due to severe stomachaches.

How was he supposed to do that? How could he tell you the truth after nearly a week of putting on this lie? Besides, every time he tried to work up the courage to tell you the truth, you would just smile at him as he handed back the empty bento box, giggling in pure happiness when he told you that he had eaten everything because your cooking was so good. Every time he saw how accomplished and happy you looked, he felt his resolve crumble.

He was weak, he knew that, but he wasn’t going to admit it to Atsumu of all people. At least he couldn’t die from eating your food…right?

“Yer gonna die if ya keep eating [Y/N]’s food,” Atsumu proclaimed as he, Osamu, and Suna made their way towards the gym for practice. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but ma and pa would be bawling their eyes out.”

“Shuddup, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu snapped back. This situation was already causing him enough physical and emotional stress as it was, and he didn’t need his obnoxious twin brother to make it worse.

“I’m just sayin’,” Atsumu said, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “I mean, it’s kinda impressive with how much ya been puking lately.”

“Listen, I know her food’s bad, but what am I supposed to do about it?” Osamu angrily asked as the three of them reached the entrance of the gym.

Atsumu paused for a moment, bringing a hand to his chin to contemplate as if he actually had a brain up there in his head. “Hmm, tell her the truth? Ya could try that.”

“I’m not gonna do that-”

“Uh, guys,” Suna interrupted, pointing to a familiar figure behind them. There you stood with a large tupperware filled to the top with poorly shapened onigiri balls, all made the previous night and meant to be shared with the Inarizaki volleyball club.

Tears rolled down your face, indicating that you had heard their conversation. Without a word, you ran back into the school, leaving a shocked Osamu behind.

“[Y/N], wait!” Osamu called out as he took off after you.

“Oi, ‘Samu! What about practice—and he’s gone…”

An awkward silence soon enveloped the air before Suna spoke up. “…¥1,000 says that they break up today.”

“Not now, Suna.”

As Osamu chased you through the empty school halls, he had never been more grateful for all his years of volleyball, as his superior height and stamina allowed him to easily keep up with you and eventually catch you.

“[Y/N]!” Osamu shouted as he managed to grasp your shoulder, pinning you against the wall in some remote corner of the staircase.

“Let me go, ‘Samu!” you seethed, trying to push him away. It was a difficult task considering he was basically a wall of lean muscle. “I don’t wanna talk right now!”

“No, please! Just listen to me,” Osamu desperately tried to explain. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to hurt yer feelings after ya had worked so hard on those bento boxes-”

“I’m not upset about the bento boxes!” you snapped harshly. “Sure, I’m a little upset about that, but I’m a lot more upset with the fact that you didn’t seem to trust me enough to tell me the truth!”

Osamu quickly shut his mouth after that.

“I-I thought this relationship was built on trust and communication,” you continued wobbly, a new wave of tears falling from your eyes. “Did’ja really think that I’m not mature enough to handle some criticism? Like you needed to lie in order to keep me happy? D-did’ja really have no faith in me?”

Processing your words, Osamu came to the realization that you were right. Did he have no faith in you? Of course not, Osamu thought the world of you. You were always the mature one in the relationship, always finding out ways to calm him down after a fight with Atsumu or cheering him back up when the pressures of school and volleyball weighed heavily on his mind. At that moment, Osamu knew he was wrong.

“[Y/N], I-I’m sorry. Yer right,” he admitted as the shame and guilt began to creep up on him. He looked at your tear-stained face and gave you a sombre smile before wiping your cheeks clean. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend.”

“No, yer not a shitty boyfriend,” you said as you hugged him, finally calming down after your emotional outburst. “Ya were just trying to protect my feelings…”

“Yeah, but I went about it the wrong way. I shoulda just told ya from the beginning. I’m sorry.”

You sighed as you buried yourself deeper into Osamu’s chest, his warmth and scent calming you down further. “I accept yer apology. No more lies, okay?”

“Yeah,” Osamu agreed softly before cupping your face to capture your lips in a tender kiss. As you melted into the kiss, you brought up a hand to tangle in your boyfriend’s hair. After the two of you separated, you both chuckled at each other’s dazed and out of breath state.

“If yer free this Sunday, why don’t I come over to yer house and teach ya how to cook,” Osamu suggested as he rubbed the skin underneath your pretty eyes.

“Isn’t that yer free day? Don’t ya wanna rest?” you asked him seriously.

“It’s fine. Cooking’s fun, and it’ll be even more fun with ya there. Besides,” Osamu grinned, remembering your words from a week ago, “yer worth it, [Y/N].”

You smiled, knowing exactly what he was referencing. “It’s a date then!”

The following week, Suna and Atsumu gathered around Osamu’s desk as per their usual lunchtime routine. The two of them warily glanced at Osamu as the grey haired Miya brought out an all too familiar bento box wrapped in a blue cloth.

Saying a quick prayer of thanks, Osamu unwrapped his bento box and began to eat away at his meal of rice, salad, and crispy karaage chicken. Atsumu and Suna stared in shock as Osamu devoured his lunch with a pleased smile and delighted hum.

“Uhhh, are ya seeing this shit, Suna?” Atsumu whispered to the middle blocker in bewilderment.

“Maybe he’s built up a resistance to it,” Suna reasoned, continuing to cast Osamu a strange look.

Sneaking a peek at Osamu’s lunch, Atsumu and Suna’s eyes widened at the delicious and aesthetic display of food: fluffy white rice, crisp and crunchy vegetables sliced up in perfect uniformity, and perfectly fried karaage chicken shining with sauce.

“O-oi, ‘Samu, let me have a bite,” Atsumu demanded, feeling his mouth water at the enticing sight and smell of the food.

“What the hell? No,” Osamu answered back, pulling the bento box away from Atsumu’s immediate range. “[Y/N] made this for me.”

“Don’t be greedy, ya stingy bastard,” Atsumu snapped, lunging out of his seat to make a grab for the bento box.

A fight soon broke out between the two Miya brothers as the other students around them all sighed and shook their heads in amusement. Just another day at Inarizaki High.

Meanwhile, Suna, who had remained in his seat, silently pulled out his phone and began to record Osamu shoving Atsumu’s face away with his elbow, keeping his precious bento box out of the blond’s reach.

“WorldStar,” Suna whispered as he zoomed in on Atsumu tripping over some desks in a desperate attempt to grab the bento box.

Just another day at Inarizaki High indeed.

fun fact: atsumu never got his money from suna, and kita made osamu run five laps around the school when he finally showed up for practice

#miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader insert #miya osamu #miya atsumu #suna rintarou

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rae-is-typing · 5 years ago

Text

Bravery

Description: Your uncle has to pick you up early from school. A case the BAU is working on lands you in a tough situation.

Characters: reader, the BAU, unnamed officers and school staff

Warnings: non consensual groping, fighting, guns, hostage situation, reader shoots someone for self defense, swearing

Word count: 3.6k

“Hotchner!”

You glance behind you to see the giant teenage boy stomping towards you, fury radiating off of him. He shoves other students aside. Greasy brown hair falls into his face, he doesn’t bother brushing it aside. You roll your eyes, shut your locker, and shoulder your bag. You begin walking away from him, which fuels his self-righteous anger.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, dumb bitch!”

You keep a straight face, and keep walking the busy halls of the school. Students had started parting like the red sea, not wanting to be bulldozed by the titan toddler throwing a fit. A hand grips your shoulder hard, forcibly turning you around. You come face to face with an acne covered, pissed off linebacker. His breath smells like rotten egg so much so you physically gag.

“Listen here, bitch-” He was cut off by you ramming your knee into his crotch. You rip your shoulder away as he doubles over, clutching his balls. Adjusting your bag with a huff, you whip around and walk away, all the while ignoring the gasps and stares you received in the hallway.

Twenty minutes later, you’re called to the office. You stand up from your desk, grab your things, and march to the office, ready to fight the principal.

“Y/N, have a seat.” Mrs. Huffman, one of the three secretaries, says. Her wrinkles are amplified by the fake smile gracing her cracked lips. You give a curt nod, taking the uncomfortable seat closest to the door. You pull your phone out of your back pocket, opening it up, and mindlessly scrolling through twitter.

‘Y/N,” Your vice principal, Mr. Roberts, starts, exasperation seeping into his voice. You look up from your phone to see him beckoning you into his office. You get up and walking into his office, dreading what he’s going to say.

You sit down in front of his desk, and he takes a seat in his. “Tell me what happened in the hall, Y/N.”

“Tyler grabbed my butt before the period ended. I told him off. The bell rang, I left the classroom. He ran after me and grabbed me again. I kneed him in the crotch so he wouldn’t hurt me.” You explain, unable to keep the underlying anger out of your words.

Mr. Roberts sighs. “You can’t assault other students in the hallway, Y/N.”

“I shouldn’t have defended myself?”

“You shouldn’t resort to violence.”

“I should’ve let it happen?”

“You should’ve waited for a teacher to get involved-”

“So I should’ve let myself get assaulted by someone twice my size without attempting to get myself out of the situation at all?” You challenge once more, anger rising further.

“You’re a good kid, Y/N. You’re the top of your class, you have a bright future, and you have a clean record. Don’t throw it away because another student bothered you.” “Being groped is being bothered.” You deadpan, unable to keep the utter shock out of your voice. “Tell me, Mr. Roberts, has anyone ever grabbed your ass without consent?”

His face hardens at your choice of words. “I’ll let you off with a warning. This won’t go on record. If it happens again, I will suspend you. Your uncle will be here soon to pick you up. You can wait in the office for him.”

You grab your bag, flinging it over your shoulder while you gave him the nastiest look you could muster. Stomping out of the small subsection, you take your previous seat closest to the door. Your leg bounces up and down, your hands shake, and you’re ready to fist fight someone.

It doesn’t take a long time for Aaron to get to your school. His eyes are hard, so is his face. Rain drops fall from his coat as he marches in like a soldier on a mission into the office. His face doesn’t change when he sees you, and he signs you out without a word. You follow him out to the SUV. It’s stormy, rain pounds the sidewalks, and thunder rolls in the distance.

The ride to his work is quiet at first, filled with tension so thick it chokes you.

“I was just defending myself.” You say, eyes locked on the storm in front of you. Aaron’s grip on the wheel tightens, making his knuckles appear white.

“This was the worst possible time, Y/N. I understand that you get annoyed by your peers, but this has to stop.” Aaron tries to make his words even, but exasperation drips off of every letter.

“He grabbed my ass and was going to attack me in the hallway!” You snap, turning to look at him. “Aren’t you always saying that I need to stand up for myself?”

“Not like that. There are better ways-”

“Like what? Letting myself get harassed and not do anything about?” You cut him off, hands still shaking.

“You’re supposed to get an advisor or teacher when this happens.” “Like they’d do anything. They didn’t do anything when Leah was groped in the middle of the gym. They didn’t do anything when Caleb was shoved into a locker after being beat up. They didn’t-”

“That’s enough, Y/N!” It’s his turn to snap. “You used violence when you knew that is against the school’s policy. I understand that you were put into a rough position, but sometimes you have to let it be.”

Knowing that Aaron won’t back down, you make a noise of aggravation and sit back against the seat. As soon as he parks the car, you throw open the door and storm to the building, completely ignoring the rain that gets in your eyes and soaks your clothes.

Security is a breeze to get through; everyone knows you and your bag is almost empty. You’re making your way to the bullpen when someone calls to you.

“Bambina! Why aren’t you in school?” You turn to see Dave pacing towards you carrying a small tray of coffees. He holds his arms out and you step into them gratefully, and he wraps his free arm around you. “What’s the matter?”

“People fucking suck,” You sigh, embracing the older man.

“Language, darling. Care to elaborate?” He asks as you pull away. You sigh, willing your hands to finally stop shaking from anger.

“Some dumb guy grabbed my butt at the end of class. He was going to do more in the hall, so I kneed him in the dick so he didn’t.” Dave cringes, placing his hand on your back while you walk at a slower pace to the larger area of the bullpen.

“Something tells me that isn’t everything.”

“Aaron doesn’t think I should’ve resorted to violence.” You say, some frustration returning to your voice.

It’s Dave’s turn to sigh. “Your uncle only wants the best for you, Bambina. Violence is a great way to get kicked out of school.”

“It was self-defense.” You defend. “The school system doesn’t see it that way.” “Yeah, well the system is a piece of-” “Y/N, what are you doing here?” You and Dave spot Penelope and Derek walking into the bullpen at the same time as you. You open your mouth to say something, but Peneolope beats you to the punch.

“N/N, you look upset.” Penelope gasps, rushing forward, the sound of her heels clicking against the tile floor reverberates throughout the busy bullpen. “Oh, my precious thing, what happened? “This guy grabbed my ass, so I kneed him in the balls, and got excused from school.” You say as she cups your face. This is standard behavior from Penelope, in her words you’re ‘A precious bundle of sunshine that I must protect at any cost because you’re one of the only good things left on this deranged planet.’

“I’m sorry, N/N. Are you okay?” She all but coos.

“I’m fine, just really frustrated.”

“What a scumbag. What happened to him?” Derek asks.

“No idea, but I hope he feels it for a few days.” You scoff. “If he gets off with nothing, I’m gonna be even more furious.”

The murmurs of agreement that spread throughout the small group is swallowed by the sounds of not only the other BAU agents, but regular police officers too. There are at least six officers, and many other FBI officials. “Am I allowed to know what’s going on?” You frown.

“Some stuff with the local PD. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over,” Derek remarks, ruffling your hair to make a point. You smile, batting his hands away. Dave passes out the coffee, and you sit near the group table, pulling out your phone as a distraction. Aaron comes in a moment later.

“Y/N, head up to my office. You don’t need to hear anything about this case.” He says without making eye contact. You don’t respond verbally, only get up, grab your stuff and go to his office. Normally, you’d put up a fight, but you’re barely allowed in the bullpen as is, and you don’t want to sacrifice that privilege.

His office is clean save for the papers littering his desk. You take a seat on the chair behind the desk, and go back to playing on your phone.

It’s not long before an alarm goes off. It’s high pitched and shakes the room. Your hands immediately shield your ears from the screeching noise. Officers and agents alike are scrambling out the door, leaving half the BAU and only four officers left.

One of the officers barks something into a walkie talkie, and the alarm finally shuts off. You relax back into the chair, but keep a watchful eye over the rest of the bullpen.

Within minutes, two new officers have replaced the old ones and are getting in Dave’s face, not trying to hide the fact that they’re arguing about something. Penelope and Spencer are trying to diffuse the situation, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

Then the lights flicker. It starts slow, then gets faster until the lights just give out. The bullpen is now shrouded in darkness, making Aaron’s office pitch black. You’re about to turn on the flashlight on your phone when you hear two loud bangs.

You’ve heard the sound of gunshots before, but that was when your uncle took you to a shooting range in a very controlled environment. Remembering everything Aaron has ever taught you about active shootings, you fall to your knees and hide under the desk. You press you back against the desk, clutching your knees to your chest. Breathing as evenly as you can, you strain your ears for any sound.

Muffled yelling wafts through the air and reaches your strained ears. Two more bangs. The yelling stops. You breathe hitches as tears fill your eyes. Someone is dead, you’re sure of it. Pressing your hand against your mouth, you keep the sounds of your distress at bay.

What feels like hours pass when you hear footsteps coming towards the office. Curling up tighter, you try to make yourself as small as possible. The door is thrown open hitting the wall with a boom. You bite down on your lip, dig your fingernails in the soft flesh of your palm, and hold your breath.

Loud stomps come towards you and stop. “Come out, kid. I know you’re here.” He barks. A few more steps. “You better show yourself or you’ll be sorry.” A couple more steps. Tears begin to fall down your cheeks. Wiping them away, you start to resign yourself to your fate.

Suddenly, the chair is thrown back and your wrist is grabbed. You yelp sharply as your entire body is torn out from under the desk. An arm wraps around your neck, loose enough so you’re able to breathe, but tight enough so you’re unable to get away.

“Listen hard, okay? You’re going to come downstairs and play nicely while we get what we need, understood.” The man’s breath tickles your neck as he speaks, arm tightening around your neck ever so slightly as the other snakes around your midsection.

“Yes,” You say, desperately trying to keep the rest of your tears in your eyes.

He drags you down the stairs. Through the little natural light, you can make out a small huddle of people in the middle of the bullpen. A shove to your back makes you land hard on your knees next to the huddle. Pain spreads up your legs and through you wrists, making you wince. Without much time to react, you’re gathered in someone’s arms. They pull you close to them and begin to whisper.

“It’s okay, Bambina,” It’s Dave, and you want to bawl. You’re supposed to be the tough teenager, not a crying child. All of the adrenaline and anger had faded, leaving you shaking from fear and not indignation. “We’ll get you out of here.”

You can only nod along to the comforting words he whispers. He rubs one hand up and down your back, using the other to press your head against his chest.

Glancing up, you see three officers. All of them wield what look to be rifles and they circling the group like vultures. There’s a pile of cellphones and weapons in the middle of the pile. You shift, confirming that your phone is still in your back pocket, covered by the sweatshirt you stole from Aaron.

Suddenly, there’s a noise reverberating through the room. A generic ringtone, something overly obnoxious. You hold your breath and shift again, trying to feel any vibration. It’s not yours. One of the police officers walks out of the room. The other two get closer to the group, compensating for the loss. Dave tightens the grip he has around you. It’s silent for a few minutes. The only thing in the air is tension. You can barely make out the face of Spencer across the circle. He’s doing that thing where he has to sit still, but he’s busy putting two and two together to solve a case. His eyes dart around the room, his fingers drum on his legs, and he’s mouthing something. JJ sits next to him, a very concerned look etched into her face. Penelope is nowhere to be found.

The sound of weighted footsteps approaches the small circle quickly. The officer that left returns, very infuriated. He holds his rifle close to his side as he once again yanks you to your feet and away from Dave’s protective grip.

You gasp, immediately struggling. Cries of protest rise from the rest of the BAU.

“Take me instead,” Dave demands, standing up. “I’m more valuable than her, you’ll get more of what you want if you have an esteemed FBI agent instead of a civilian."

The officer’s face twists. Without hesitation, he slams the butt onto Dave’s forehead. He crumples to the floor, clutching his now injured head.

You fight tears once again. I need to be strong. I can’t be scared right now. I can’t be scared. I can’t be scared…. Your inner mantra replays in your head as your forced down a narrow hallway, the officer gripping your arm. You walk along with him, breath shallow and tears stuck in your eyes.

But then you notice something.

A smaller handgun sits loosely in a holster attached to his hip. The grip of the gun is hanging out of the holster, almost falling out with each hurried step.

If you could just…

When you turn a corner, he lets go of you. You make your choice in a split second. Surging forward, you grab the grip, turn the safety off, and you pull the trigger. You hit him in the hip just below where a bullet proof vest would be. The you cock the gun and shoot one more time in his thigh.

As soon as the last shot goes you, turn the safety back on, and begin to sprint.

The only advantage you have in this situation is your knowledge. Thanks to Penelope and Kevin giving you a very in depth tour of the place when you first started tagging along with Aaron, you know every nook and cranny on this floor, and the ones above you.

With the help of another rush of adrenaline, you easily sprint down the hallway. All semblance of rational thought left your mind. All that’s left is the instinct to run as far and as fast as you can.

You run until you’ve managed to get up to the top floor of the building. Because of the outage, every door is unlocked, but really heavy. You push the final door with all your might. It doesn’t budge. The blood rushing through you is the only thing that matters, it’s the only thing you hear and the only thing you feel. You give it another shot, using every muscle in your body. There is a loud creak as it finally budges, allowing you to slip inside.

The top floor is the only one you’ve never been in. The little natural light is starting to fade. You need to find a place to hide and find one fast. Jogging down the halls, you find that all of the doors to the offices are closed, and mostly likely locked.

You swear under your breath, stopping at a corner. You hear the loud creak of the door as it’s opened. Fuck.

Your blood runs cold. You don’t wait to listen for footsteps this time, you haul ass down the corridor until you’ve come wide area with a ton of doors. You slam your body against the door next to you while turning the handle. Nothing.

You stumble to the door across from it. Locked as well. You try one last door as you hear footsteps over the blood roaring in your ears.

Finally. This one is unlocked. You fall inside of an empty room, landing on your knees once more. A pained noise slips from your lips, and you freeze. The footsteps are still coming. You kick the door closed and push yourself into a sitting position next to the hinges.

Once again, you press your shaking hands over your mouth. Heavy breaths come out through your nose. You squeeze your eyes shut, a few tears slipping out. You clutch the gun to your chest, slowly taking it off of safety.

At some point during the night’s events, your phone fell out of your pocket. You aren’t sure when, nor are you able to call anyone or tell them you tried your best to stay alive. More tears fall from your eyes.

You’re going to die.

Those fuckers are going to get revenge for their buddy, and you’re going to die.

“Y/N! Y/N are you here?”

What? You stop breathing for a second, that sounds like Derek.

“Y/N!” And that’s Spencer.

You don’t dare move, blink, or breathe as shock envelopes your body.

“Has anyone else found her?” Derek demands, sounding as stressed as ever. “Not yet. Morgan, what if she-” “No, Spencer. Don’t.” Derek’s voice is full of desperation, and mainly fear.

That’s enough for you. You push yourself off the floor with one hand. Opening the door, you get blinded by light. You wince, covering your eyes with your free arm. The bright LED light from their flashlights were a lot to take after not seeing any light for god knows how long.

"Y/N, oh thank God.” Derek breathes out. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I-I don’t know."

"C'mere.” He says, wrapping an arm around you. You feel the gun being pulled from your grip. “Spencer, call the others."

You melt into his embrace as the tears finally fall, steadily and silently.

Downstairs, Aaron paces wildly with red rimming his eyes. The local police department was corrupt and had been after important documents that would lead to incredible opportunities for organized crime. The BAU caught on too late to stop the hostage situation, but when they realized what the officers had been after, they sprung into action.

When the others told him about you being taken by the leader, the gunshots they heard, and the fact that neither of you came back to the bullpen, his mind jumped to the worst. All of their minds did. But when they went searching, they found the leader bleeding out in a hallway, missing a gun with you nowhere to be found.

Now, Aaron can’t stop pacing. Dave sits close by, injuries tended to. His attempts to comfort his friend fell of deaf ears.

But Aaron can’t lose you too. He was supposed to keep you safe. He took you in because his brother couldn’t keep you safe. Even with the call from Spencer, he couldn’t believe you were okay until he sees it. He gets his reassurance when he sees the elevator opens. Morgan has an arm around you, bracing you and protecting you from any perceived threat.

You rush forward when you see him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“You’re okay.” He says, comforting both you and himself. “I’m sorry,” You choke out.

“What for?” He asks. That was certainly not the reaction he was expecting.

“I shot him. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do-”

“Y/N.” Aaron pushes you away from his chest so he can look you in the eyes. “You did what you had to. You were protecting yourself.” You can only nod with tears in your eyes. He brings you back into his arms, fingers carding through your hair for both your comfort and his. You bury your head in his chest, blocking the rest of the world out.

Everything is going to be okay.

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