#but uh I guess I know how they’re gonna get closer

[morganlabae]

okay the more I watch ds9 the more I do see the similarities to Babylon 5 and it’s honestly fascinating? Like the Cardassian/Bajoran parallels to the Centauri/Narn relationship, the way the dominion war brews in the horizon for a long time before fuckign exploding, the way the station is at the heart of all of it?? And they’re very different stories but it’s so cool to see these themes explored in a wildly different and higher budget show

[cupidsdolll]

For Whatever It’s Worth I Love You (Ain’t That the Worst Thing You Ever Heard?)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!Harry x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; best friends forever or whatever the saying is. how bittersweet it is to love someone that you can’t have how you want.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 8.8k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; angst, drinking, one mention of a sexual encounter, foul language, use of Y/N. date with a college guy who only wants sex and is obvious about it.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: i did link a playlist in another post, but here it is. this fic is something personal to me so not everyone will relate but if you’ve ever been in love with your best friend, this is for you. you don’t have to listen to the playlist while reading but a few deserve a honorable mention that i feel accurately describe the feelings throughout.

yours - conan gray, it’s nice to have a friend - taylor swift, falling for u - peachy! ft mxmtoon, heather - conan gray, people watching - conan gray.

— — —

Y/N and Harry were friends. They were the absolute best of friends if anyone asked. They grew up near one another but she tended to shy away from him in their early days. During their elementary years, she observed him from a distance. Him and his seemingly always put together outfits, the way he would snicker in class whenever the teacher mentioned anything remotely funny (it never was to the little girl.) She watched as he sometimes decided he wanted to take notes and would write everything down as fast as he could.

She watched as he grew a small circle of friends and would go around the school playing pranks, placing fake bugs inside lockers or on the teachers desk. She couldn’t help but to be curious of the boy as time went, something about him intrigued her. Years go by and eventually Y/N grew the courage to approach the young boy. She was still hesitant, nervous really, she didn't know what to say to him in any sense. But her legs carried her to him, her mind runs a mile a minute the closer she gets to him. She was bound to make a fool of herself, she just couldn’t stop.

Her feet stopped, she stood right in front of him and he’s yet to notice her, too deep into whatever conversation he’s having with his friend to notice the scared girl. She can’t help her gaze from roaming over his face, the soft cheeks and pretty green eyes, his pink lips and long eyelashes. His hair has gotten quite curly over the years, it’s honestly her favorite feature of his. She wishes she could look at him this close every day, just admire him without any fear or doubt and oh- he’s staring at her. When did he stop talking to his friend? Her eyes drop to his lips and they’re moving.. he’s talking to her, oh god he’s talking to her. This is it, she’s gonna make an utter and absolute fool of herself and he’s never going to talk to her again.

“Uh hello? Did y’need something?” He asks and she just stares blankly. She can’t force her brain to say something, anything please.

“Uh- well.. jeez. You see.. I just,” is all that comes out of her mouth when she finally decides to open it. She can feel heat rising to her cheeks, the embarrassment warming her and making her want to hide in her room until the end of time.

Harry’s just staring at her, his lips pulled up into an amused smirk of some sort and she can't help the shame that fills her.

“Go on then, I don't have all day.“ He says with amusement laced in his tone and she nearly melts. She couldn’t think he could get any better but his accent is heavenly. It’s smooth and soft and she wishes she could listen to it all day- no she doesn’t. That’s irrational and oh, he’s still looking at her. She needs to say something, she begs her mind to come up with anything at this point.

“You’re pretty.” His face immediately morphs into a look of disbelief as he shakes his head gently.

“Well thanks I guess.” He laughs gently before looking back at her.

“I don’t think pretty is a term meant for me, maybe for you though.” He smiles gently at her and she swears her heart skips three beats. Her skin flushes with heat at the compliment he gives her, and she can’t help but to smile shyly at the curly haired boy.

“Oh, um thank you.” She can’t help but to giggle and he watches her with a curious gaze.

“What’s your name then?” He asks her and she tells him, he compliments her name and says his own.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” They smile at each other and he invites her to sit with him and his friends.

Just like that, a new friendship begins to bloom between the children. They stay by each other’s side through the years, becoming the best of friends in the seventh grade over their shared disgust for dissecting frogs. Their faces screw up and they just keep complaining about how gross it feels and how they hate the sliminess of the skin. It’s hard to imagine that anything could break them apart, they’re too similar. They’re too close, their friendship is far too strong.

— — —

When high school came around, you never got one without the other. The pair were always attached at the hip. Some students thought the two were dating, and Harry always shot them down by saying she’s just a really close friend, they’re just friends, they couldn’t date. Y/N kept her mouth shut, always had to swallow the big lump that formed in her throat whenever the topic came up. She knew she wouldn’t be able to deny it, or she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from admitting her feelings.

She’s not sure when she started catching feelings for Harry exactly. There’s many moments where it could be possible. It could’ve been all those nights they share a bed, they’re close enough and their parents figured nothing bad will happen. If they were to sneak around, they would’ve done it already. Harry will be over at Y/N’s house, either studying or just hanging out with her and they’ll stay up too late and Anne wouldn’t want to come and pick him up so Harry will pick an outfit or steal some of her bigger clothes to wear (she likes to wear oversized clothing when she’s going to sleep, they’re the only clothes that’ll fit him.) The first night was awkward to say the least, she didn’t own a sleeping bag and wanted him to stay with her. They thought of piling some blankets on the floor, but he said it’d be too uncomfortable and would hurt his back. He offered to sleep on the couch but she fussed and said it wouldn’t be a proper sleepover if they weren’t in the same room.

The last offer was said with hesitation, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned red and he stared at the floor with a bashful smile.

“We could, maybe if you’re comfortable with it of course, maybe share a bed? We don’t have to. I’m sure your mom could figure something out-” She’s embarrassed at how fast she answers the boy, her skin warmed and shy eyes.

“Yeah! That works.” And just like that, the first initial problem is solved. They lay relatively stiffly in their own sides of the bed, a line of pillows lay in between them acting as a protective barrier, the moonlight filtering through her bedroom window and resting on his face. Casting a soft white hue onto his face, making him look even softer and she can’t help but to keep sneaking glances at her best friend. She doesn’t want to just stare and ogle, she doesn’t want to make this even more awkward for the two of them, so she settles for quick glances. They talk about anything and everything, whatever they learned in class or Harry’s newest favorite song, her current book she’s reading or some gossip one of them overheard.

Time passes, and Y/N can hear his breathing even out. She watches as his chest rises and falls slower signaling the young boy is sleeping. She then turns on her side, slowly and quietly as she pays attention to how much sound she’s making, her gaze landing on the sleeping boy. This should be, this is weird. She shouldn’t be watching him, but she can’t help it. Her eyes roam over his face once more, this time unashamed and more slowly, she wants to memorize every single detail.

She takes in the way his lashes fan his cheeks, she’s always been jealous of how long his eyelashes are. There’s no point in him having them if he doesn’t put them to good use. His eyelids flutter ever so often as he sleeps, his nose and his lips. They’re soft and pink, pillowy as if they’re made from the softest fabric. They’re inviting, but she shouldn’t be thinking like that. They’re best friends, best friends don’t kiss. They don’t think about cuddling up to them, they don’t do what she does.

Besides it’s normal for a young girl to develop a small crush on her best friend, it happens to everyone. At least that’s what her mom had told her weeks after the bed sharing experience.

— — —

She manages to bottle up those measly feelings for him, she doesn’t want to ruin anything and lose him. Years pass and now the two are in college. Freshman, the jokes of the school, the perfect targets for all of the upperclassmen. Y/N and Harry are still as close as ever, in fact some may say they’ve gotten closer. Harry’s always there to protect her from anyone who tries to pick on her, to lend a hand when she needs a study partner. Y/N’s there to support his dreams, to embrace him after a long day, to listen to him ramble about anything and everything.

The two would usually spend their nights sitting side by side as they help the other study, listening to the newest music on their phones, or just chatting happily with each other. The silence that settled over them sometimes never felt uncomfortable in any way, anything that had to do with Harry was warm. It was happy, filled with care and cozy, constantly feeling like she was enveloped in a warm hug. It was always a comforting moment whenever she’s around him, never awkward in any way or a silence so deafening that makes her feel the need to ramble about anything just to fill the silence.

True enough, college was stressful for the girl. She was known to overwork herself and to stack more and more things onto her imaginary plate. A stack so high that she can’t see over or around, and the weight of it only gets heavier as time passes by. It’s not something she can help though, she’s always been one to want to overachieve her own dreams and goals — even if said goals were highly unattainable and unrealistic — but she always had Harry to help her. She’d tack on classes that she may or may not need to take but she thinks it will be easier to take all the classes just in case.

She makes frequent stops to her teacher’s office to ask for help or to check her work (she’s sure the teachers are sick of her at this point), she’s constantly working on homework and studying for her exams and any tests she may have. It’s safe to say Y/N is as good a student as one can get, and she takes great pride in that! As much time as she spends in her dorm room or in the library with her face glued into text books, she makes sure to set time aside to spend time with her best friend.

She always makes time for him, how could she not when he’s the best part of her day? They’ll meet up in the library for an impromptu study session that usually ends up with their studies forgotten as they talk about whatever comes to mind, him sitting beside her on her bed because she doesn’t like visiting the boy’s dormitories simply because they’re loud and the majority of the time it smells unpleasant, or they’ll stroll around the campus because she loves being in nature. They’ll talk about how their classes are doing (hers are good but overwhelming and loud, his are good as well and he quite enjoys them,) or they’ll talk about potential crushes they have.

It usually always just results in Harry talking about whatever girl he thought was pretty as Y/N nodded along. She never had anything to contribute, she never had any crushes other than him and didn’t feel the need to add anything to the conversation. She was always too jealous, too upset to say anything anyways. She wished it was her. She hoped that she could hold his hand and kiss him whenever she wanted, wanted to play with his hair and cuddle up to him whenever she wanted, wanted to show him off and announce to the world that he was hers.

It was silly, she knew that, which was why she never said anything about her feelings. She couldn’t have him the way she wanted him, they were always just gonna be best friends. She was okay with that, to a point, she was glad to have him in her life just the same. She wouldn’t tell him in fear of losing him. She couldn’t bear the thought of not being in his life, to not traveling to his place and hanging out with his family, to not have that one person who meant everything and anything to her.

So she pined, she yearned from a distance while still encouraging him to go on dates. Which is exactly what she’s doing now, sat on his bed with a sad smile as he told her about the current girl he’s interested in.

“No, you don’t understand. She’s so smart, always one of the first to raise her hand, she could honestly give you a run for your money. She always looks so pretty, it’s like she never has bad days. She even volunteers on the weekends!” He goes on and on, not realizing the sadness etched on his friend's face, he never noticed it as he rambled about whatever girl he was interested in.

Y/N nodded along, halfway listening as she felt the small ping of hurt begin to bloom in her chest. She wishes she could be all the way happy for Harry. She hates that she gets jealous of all the girls, she just can’t help it. She wishes she had a chance.

“Why don’t you ask her out then, Harry?” Her voice is quiet, scared of it coming out as shaky as she feels.

“I don’t even know if she likes me! I’d hate to ask her out just to get rejected.” He says as he paces, a habit he does when he’s nervous.

“You won’t know if you try, or you could just try talking to her normally and see how it goes from there.” She says and he nods, a big smile on his face (one she wishes he would give to her) as he thinks it over.

She hates these moments if she’s being honest, it always leads to the same outcome. He’ll listen to her advice, he and whatever girl he’s interested in will start talking, they’ll realize they’re compatible and start hanging out more, he’ll bring her around to meet Y/N and then something happens and they break up. She wishes he would stop, at least for a while, and go back to give all of his attention to her.

— — —

They’re now juniors in college and the two are still relatively close friends. Harry will walk her to class if his own is close enough, they eat lunch together when their schedules line up, Harry still takes her to and from school every day (unless something came up with his soccer schedule.) Harry did get into the party scene though, and Y/N thinks this is where it all got complicated. He would go to parties thrown on the campus and when he first started going, Harry would invite Y/N to come with him and the girl always said no.

Partying wasn’t her thing, she didn't find the whole appeal of it all. Going to someone’s dorm room or house, either way the space is entirely too crowded for her, the smell of cigarettes and weed fill the air and songs she’ll never enjoy blasts through whatever speakers they have. The drinks are usually not that bad after she’s had a couple before heading in, but she doesn’t necessarily like to drink anyways.

This was where her and Harry had begun to drift in a way, Harry enjoyed partying. He enjoyed it a lot, the thrill, and once he had gotten a couple of tattoos and grew his hair out he became quite the ladies man.

He would go on about whatever party was going on, to her it seemed there was a party every week. She didn’t understand why these people aren’t studying and making the most of their time, but she realizes that not everyone’s like her. It was very rare for her to accompany Harry to a party, but when she did, she made him promise to stay by her side as much as he could. He agreed, because why wouldn’t he, and tried to get to enjoy herself as much as she could.

Tonight’s a party, she couldn’t believe someone is throwing a party on a Thursday night, she would be cozied up in her bed with her textbooks laid across as she wrote down notes. Harry had convinced her to come with him, and told her it was going to be a small party and said they were having a pick a music DJ so she could even request a couple of her favorite songs! She reluctantly agreed only after Harry gave her the biggest eyes and pout she ever saw. She’s always had a soft spot for him, mainly because he’s never given her a reason not to trust his word and judgment.

So she sighed as she ushered him out, playfully swatting his butt with whatever she was able to grab and shooed him.

“Go on then, get ready! This better be good otherwise I’m shaving your head while you sleep.” She said with a soft smile on her lips, they both knew she would never do so simply because she enjoyed running her hands through his hair. He shook his head and laughed at her fondly as he allowed her to push him to the door. He then left her dorm with a smile on his lips to get ready for said party, one of his main priorities is to make his best friend begin to like parties so they could go together.

A while later, they’re standing against one another, a plastic solo cup in each of their hands in a somewhat crowded house. Harry was right, it was smaller than the normal party, there’s more room to walk around without the fear of bumping into someone and causing a scene. The music vibrates through the floors and fills the space, the air is stuffy and filled with the smell of weed. There’s so much happening all at once, and Y/N’s glad she doesn’t get overstimulated easily otherwise she’d have to leave.

Y/N sips on her drink, taking just the smallest of drinks simply because whatever Harry gave her smells and tastes bad, burning her throat and leaving a bad aftertaste on her tongue with every drink. Her eyes roam over the kitchen but they always manage to land on Harry. He’s so pretty, and just happy. He looks like he belongs here, long sleeve black shirt partially open, a black tie barely even tied around his neck, a pair of black jeans and a pair of white tennis shoes. He’s let his hair down instead of his usual man bun, and Y/N swears every girl has their eyes trained on him. She doesn’t blame them honestly, she just wishes she wasn’t there to watch as her best friend checks the girls out as well.

It fuels a bubbling in her stomach, a queasy feeling that won’t go away. It’s a feeling she’s grown used to, being friends with Harry always led to her feeling envious of the girls he talked to. She wishes she could just accept the fact that they’ll never be together how she wants them to be, accept the fact that they’ll always just be best friends. She knows that she could treat him better than they can, she knows all the small things they’ll never know. She knows how to make him happy, how to comfort him, knows all of his secrets and ticks and cues.

She hates the painful feeling that resides in her chest, near her heart every time this happens. The horrible feeling of rejection that makes her hate the friendship they have, hates the fact that they’re so close and it’ll never go any further than that. She sighs and takes a bigger sip of her drink, her face screwing up in disgust at the bitter taste left on her tongue. She hopes he’s too busy checking out every girl at the party to notice her discomfort, but of course he has some kind of senses that ties to her as he wraps an arm softly around her shoulders.

He gives her a soft squeeze as he leans down to whisper in her ear, only to make sure she can hear him over the bass of the song.

“Y’okay?” She can’t help the shiver that runs through her at the feeling of his breath fanning across her neck. She only nods her head meekly, she doesn’t trust her voice enough to speak for her. He chuckles and squeezes her shoulder once more before pulling away and Y/N can only sigh quietly at the lack of contact and warmth. It’s moments like these where she wishes she’s back at home, cuddles next to Harry as they do whatever. The music’s getting too loud, she’s getting warmer and her drink doesn’t taste good, that can only mean she’s getting overwhelmed.

They stay alongside each other at the party, her wrapped in his arms as time goes on. She wishes he would say they can leave, but she’s unsure how long they’ve been here and she won’t be the reason Harry leaves a party early. Harry mutters in her ear something about getting another drink and she’s sure he asked if she wanted something different. She nods her head softly and turns her head, her eyes staring into his pretty emerald eyes and she smiles at him before asking if there’s something there that doesn’t taste so bitter and he can only laugh at her. She swears his eyes look so pretty in this light, pupils slightly dilated and the green of his eyes shine in the lighting above the two of them. They stare at each other for what seems like ages, not that Y/N’s complaining any, before Harry pulls back and tells her that he’ll be right back with the drinks and she nods in response. She watches him as he makes his way through the crowd, more than likely saying excuse me and apologizing if he even brushes past someone on his journey because he’s just that polite.

— — —

Y/N hates parties. She’s mentioned this to Harry several times and he’s so persistent on changing her mind, only to be left disappointed by her response the next day or through a text. They always smell bad, it’s hot, there’s no personal space and she just absolutely despises watching Harry get hit on by every girl in the vicinity. She gets it, he’s good looking, funny and an absolute gentleman which is not something she can say applies to any other boy on campus. Harry’s a rare gem and she wishes she could keep him for herself, but alas they’re just friends. That’s all they’ll ever be.

She hates when they go to parties and he leaves her, usually letting her know but sometimes he’s dragged away and never comes back until he’s drunk. Another reason she hates parties is how he acts when he’s drunk. She turns into a babysitter, making sure he’s careful not to throw up on himself, bump into some guy who had too much to drink and wants a fight, and has to drive them home when she doesn’t even like driving. Not to mention, she hates how affectionate he becomes. He’s always cuddling up to her, holding her hand and calling her all sorts of sweet pet names.

She thinks that’s the worst part, because not only does it fill her heart and make it swell, but it also causes her to be the target of all of the nasty glares from the girls at the party. That’s exactly what’s happening right now, he’s managed to bring her to yet another party even though she all but begged and pleaded not to come along. It was bigger, louder, and plain annoying. She just wanted to stay in bed, cozied up underneath her softest blanket with a book and her favorite songs. Harry insisted yet again that she’ll have fun, and it shouldn’t be too big. Insisted that they wouldn’t be there very long, and that was two hours ago. Y/N’s head hurts, her back and feet hurt as well and she doesn’t know any of the songs playing through the speaker. She’s just having a miserable time meanwhile Harry’s having the time of his life, she’s lost count of how many drinks he’s already had including the one currently in his hand. She knows it’s enough to get him to loosen up, to not care about the way he’s pressed against her, one tattooed arm wrapped around her waist and his breath fanning the side of her neck as he sings along to whatever song is blasting through.

They rock gently together as if it’s not an upbeat pop song, lost in his own drunken world and she just wants to go home.

“Honey, you’re just the sweetest thing. Y’know that?” His voice all but oozed into her bloodstream, warming her skin and making her fight back a smile.

“And you’re drunk, I think we should go home Harry.”’She says, hoping he listens and tells her to take them home. Instead he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck and squeezes her.

“Don’t wanna leave yet, m’having fun with you.” She can’t help the smile that tugs on her lips at his words.

“I know but we could have so much more fun at home in our pj’s. Doesn’t that sound nice, Harry?” He only hums and squeezes her tighter.

“M’having fun with you baby. S’nice seeing you all pretty. Look so pretty every day.” She can’t help the heat that rushes to her cheeks at his words, the main reason she doesn’t like attending parties with him.

He’s so cuddly and loving, the line they’ve made blurs whenever he’s drunk and makes it hard to differentiate between just friendship or something more. She knows he doesn’t mean any of it though, at least not in the way she hopes he means it. She can feel the nasty glares from all of the other girls, knowing they’re wishing to be her in shoes. Who wouldn’t want to be wrapped in Harry’s arms with him whispering in your ear and a goofy looking smile on his lips?

“Thank you, Harry. We can still have fun at home, I won’t change so I can still be all pretty for you and it’ll just be the two of us. I’m sorry, I wanna go home, Har. It’s getting to be too much.” She says just loud enough for him to hear, her eyes scanning the crowd. He sighs before kissing her neck ever so gently, a kiss so feathery soft that if she weren’t so sober she wouldn’t even feel it.

“Fine, let’s go home then baby. Don’t want my girl to be overwhelmed.” He says before unwrapping her from his embrace only to intertwine their hands together as he leads her to the exit. She’s grateful that he’s taking charge, her brain repeating the same three words over and over again.

My girl, my girl, MY girl, my GIRL, MY GIRL.

Those two words do something to her brain, sending her spiraling into the delusion she only entertains late at night when she’s alone in her bed. The fantasy that they’ve been together for a couple months, every drunken interaction always ends with a kiss and then cuddling in the bed. She follows him outside and to their, his car and he opens the door to the drivers side for her and walks around to the passenger side. She stands by the door, making sure he can get in the car without hurting himself and he huffs, reminding her of when they were kids.

“I can get in the car by myself, love. No need to fret over me.” His accent is deeper because of the alcohol and Y/N can only sigh and roll her eyes affectionately.

“I know H, just don’t want you to hurt yourself is all.” She says softly as she pulls the seatbelt around him.

“Always so sweet for me, baby. Thank you.” He smiles at her, a dopey expression on his face and she can only smile at him in return. She closes the door gently and walks to the other side, getting into the car and starting it, immediately turning on the radio in hopes it’ll distract him from seeing the tears roll down her face.

— — —

If there’s one thing Y/N hates is going on dates. Especially if they’re dates she doesn’t necessarily want to be on, just like the one she’s on now. Harry had insisted that he takes up the majority of the time (he does) and that she needs to go out more, (she doesn’t want to) so she reluctantly agreed to go on this stupid date. She arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early just in case and to prepare herself, waited for ten extra minutes for him to decide to show up smelling strongly of some cheap cologne and cigarettes. Once they were seated, things stayed somewhat relaxed as they made small talk and got to know each other; he had made some remarks she didn’t necessarily agree with but she stayed quiet.

When it came time to order, there was a certain look on his eyes when she ordered. One that felt almost as if he was… judging her? He stayed quiet otherwise though, didn’t let his disgust be known verbally and she’s thankful for that. She’s sure they’ve been at the restaurant for about thirty minutes, give or take, but this is the longest she’s been out with a guy who isn’t Harry. That has to mean something, right? Sure the conversation could be better, maybe he could talk more and maybe seem a little more interested in what she has to say, but she can’t complain too much.

She can’t help but to wonder what Harry is doing right now, probably either sleep or playing on his game system. He might be on a date as well which could explain why he was soo insistent on getting her to go on this date, but she refuses to think that’s why. She’s bored and she misses him. She always misses him though, she’s gotten so used to basically being attached at the hip with him that it feels like years whenever they’re apart (even if it’s only a couple of hours, she’s just dramatic as Harry would say.)

“So are you and Harry together, or…” The guy asks and Y/N shakes her head quickly.

“Oh.. uh no! We’re not together.” He squints his eyes at her like he doesn’t believe her, and honestly she doesn’t blame him.

“So are you guys just screwing around?” Y/N laughs, a sound in between a snort and a scoff bubbles from her lips and her date only to stare at her in confusion.

She’s heard plenty of rumors regarding her and Harry’s friendship, that they’re dating or maybe siblings, one even said she’s secretly someone famous and he’s just her bodyguard. She laughed at that one and when she told Harry he simply smiled at her and said it’s only true; she’s his princess and he vowed to protect her from any and all harm and she smacked his shoulder with a dopey smile on her lips. But to hear that people think that they’re just sleeping around with each other is new, well at least to hear it. She won’t deny the fact that sometimes late at night she’ll daydream scenarios where the two are happily together doing all the couple-y stuff but sometimes those daydreams tend to wander and turn into something filthy.

Dreams of him whispering in her ear, praising her as he rocks against her. Dreams of him maybe catching her reading her smut books and recreating them together, trying new things and exploring each other’s bodies.. She shakes her head, thankful that she can play it off as her denying the rumor.

“No, no! We’re just friends, best friends actually.” She says and laughs gently, hoping her voice doesn’t crack. He stares at her a little while longer before his gaze begins lower and he clears his throat, she knows where this is going. This happens all the time on her dates.

“Well I mean, I wouldn’t blame him if he did.” He smirks afterwards and Y/N has to hold herself back from screwing her face up in disgust.

This is usually the part where she’ll excuse herself or the date begins to head downwards, leaving her with disappointment and the small hole in her chest she’s holding out for the small chance of Harry returning her feelings begins to ache. She clears her throat in response and begins to fidget in her seat.

“Uh, yeah sure. Anyways, are you enjoying your food?” She asks in hope that it’ll detour the conversation back into safer topics.

“I mean.. it’s alright. You look gorgeous, that dress really fits you. Are you enjoying your food?” He asks as he brings his fork to his mouth and the girl has to refrain from frowning at her date.

It’s safe to say that she misses her best friend, misses being cuddled up next to him and the two of them talking about anything and everything. She misses how comfortable they are, she misses his voice, his hugs.

“Yeah, I’m enjoying it so far.” She says, her voice sounding disappointed that once more her date is turning into all of her previous ones.

“I was wondering if maybe I could stay over a little after this is done. I’d love to get to know you more.” She sighs softly before answering him.

“No, I’m sorry. If you excuse me, I'm just gonna go ahead and go. It was nice meeting you, and this should be enough to cover my half.” She says as she puts a couple bills on the table in front of him, she’s sure that it’s more than enough to pay for her meal and she should stick around to get her change; she just wants to leave though, to get away from him and back to her comfort. She immediately heads to the door, her eyes beginning to well up with tears as she walks to her car. The disappointment stinging her heart yet again at the ending of another unsuccessful date.

— — —

Y/N’s managed to find herself at another party but this time Harry’s not glued to her side, he’s gotten dragged off by one of his friends. She’s not sure where he went or how long he’s been gone but she is having a much better time than she usually is. She thinks drinking a little bit before she goes helps, being in the comforting embrace of just her and Harry as they take a couple of shots helps her loosen up.

So she stands in the kitchen, her eyes roaming over the crowd as she attempts to find Harry and her body swaying the music. She nurses a red solo cup filled with some alcohol that tastes better than whatever she had the last time, it doesn’t burn her throat whenever she takes a sip of it and it flows down quite nicely if you ask her. Her body feels loose and overall she feels happy, she doesn’t find herself worrying about anything or overthinking.

A few people bump into her while she stands but she doesn’t mind that much, simply apologizing to them as she steps out of the way. The music is something pleasant and she thinks she maybe knows this song as it plays through the speakers, she finds herself mouthing along to the words as she makes her way through the crowd. She’s sure Harry couldn’t have gotten too far, she just wants to tell him about whatever drink she has and tell him how much she likes it. She just wants to see him. She stumbles as she walks hinting at the fact that she might have had a little too much to drink, bumping into a few people as she passes through. It’s nice to not have to be the one that’s sober like she usually is, although she hopes Harry kept his promise and stayed sober in his role as the designated driver. It’s nice to be able to let loose and honestly, she understands a little why Harry likes to go to these things.

As she passes through the crowd with a content smile on her face, she makes sure to ask a few people if they’ve seen her best friend. Some tell her the last place they’ve seen him while others haven’t seen him, she thanks them all the same with a smile on her face. She continues passing through the crowd until she finds a little glimpse of an opening in the crowd, the people slowly beginning to thin out and the music grows softer. When she makes it all the way through she sees Harry leaning against a wall, one hand nervously fidgeting with his hair and the other wrapped around his phone tightly.

He bites at his bottom lip nervously and she just wants to coo at him, kiss him and hug him forever.

“What’s a matter?” She asks as she steps closer to the boy, and his face immediately lights up and all of the tension seems to melt away.

“Couldn’t find you, honey. I went to the kitchen and you weren’t there, I tried to call you and you didn’t answer. I thought you… I was scared.” He says as he wraps her tight in his arms. She doesn’t try to say anything, she knows how he gets whenever he’s nervous and assuming the worst happened, allows him to take in the moment and to calm him down. They rock gently, his face pressed into her hair as he breathes her scent in.

He pulls away a couple minutes later and they stare at each other, his brow furrowed and lips slicked with spit, jade irises shining under the lights and filled with relief and care. Y/N doesn’t know what came over her, what led her to do what she’s about to do but her in the future better be prepared and absolutely angry at herself for drinking so much. She slowly begins to lean forward, tilt her head and pucker her lips subtly. Of course, Harry doesn’t think much of it or doesn’t care when their lips meet.

Slow and tender, she doesn’t bother to move her lips. She’s content with a peck, doesn't need to be greedy. He just looked so pretty that she couldn’t help herself. Harry’s arms are tight around her, keeping her close to him as if she planned on walking away again. She pulls away with a soft click and she licks her own lips, a goofy smile on her face as she stares at him.

“‘M so lucky.” She says, her words kinda slowed and all Harry can do is stare in shock at the girl.

He’s unsure what to do now although he knows the responsible thing to do is to take her home, get her changed and tucked into bed where there definitely won’t be anymore kisses and she’ll be safe and sound. He just stares at her, her eyes unfocused and her eyelashes wet as she stares back. The music blares but to them it’s simply background music, the two of them seemingly secluded away in their own personal bubble. It’s usually how it always is though, wherever they go but it always happens at these parties Harry drags her to, they’ll isolate themselves somewhere in a corner and just chat away until Harry decides to mingle with the other party goers. Harry thinks she’s pretty like this, well he usually always thinks she’s pretty. He likes to see her dress up though, which is why he invites her to so many of these parties, likes knowing all of the girls there envy Y/N because she’s his best friend.

A couple minutes go by, hours maybe but Harry doubts it, and Harry decides to take a couple steps back and rubs his hands down her arms to interlace their fingers together.

“Hey, love bug. You ready to go home?” He asks gently, wary of the fact that she could be more emotional and isn’t thinking straight in the first place for her to kiss him. The girl simply nods her head and allows the boy to lead her through the party crowd and outside, while Harry makes sure she doesn’t bump into any cars on the way to his own car. The breeze is soft and warm, gently caressing their cheeks as it passes through. The sun is filtering through the clouds, landing on Y/N’s face as they walk.

It doesn’t take very long to reach his car because he almost always parks as close to the entrance to make it easier for the other to escort them to the car when they’re drunk. It usually always ends up being Harry, so it feels weird in a way to have the roles reversed, to have him being the one taking care of her. He unlocks the car when they get close enough, his arm wrapped securely around the drunken girl just in case she stumbles. He listens as she rambles about something he can’t make out, her words slurring together due to excitement and her being drunk. A quality of hers that he’s always found endearing, so he lets her ramble of course, humming along to show he’s listening and only occasionally adding his own input when asked and he’s able to make out what she’s doing.

He opens the door for her, getting her all settled in and closing the door behind him, walking around to the driver’s side and starting the car. Once he starts driving, the radio stays off and the windows down to let in the breeze, Harry tries his best to ignore the feeling of her eyes on him.

— — —

Two weeks have passed since the drunken kiss incident and neither of them have really said much about it. Harry brought it up to her a couple days later and she only laughed and said it’s okay, everyone does stupid stuff when they’re drunk. Nothing has changed between the two necessarily, maybe Harry’s been going out of his way to walk her to her class and yeah maybe they have to be touching in any way. Whether it be holding hands like how they used to do, kisses on the forehead and cheeks, or their arms slung across the other waist or shoulders.

So he assumes that there’s nothing else to make of it, it’s not a big deal and honestly if it hasn’t affected their friendship, then he doesn’t mind ignoring it. He has noticed that she’s been the one to initiate the physical touch now, more open about it whereas before she shied away from it in hopes to not upset any of the girls in school. She doesn’t swat at his chest whenever he calls her the exaggerated pet names he used purposely to annoy her, she even said a few of them back. Sure, sometimes he’ll catch her looking at him with eyes all gooey late at night but that must be because she hasn’t had enough sleep.

They’re still the same two best friends like before, just a smidge different but it’s not a bad difference. Y/N thinks she could be okay with the way they are now, living in her own little imagination where they’re more than friends.

Which is why Y/N’s confused whenever Harry knocks on her door early in the morning. Ten in the morning isn’t super early but it’s definitely earlier than she’d like to be awake on a day where she has absolutely nothing else to do. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes as she gets out of bed and throws on some clothes as she makes her way to the door of her dorm. When she opens it, she sees Harry and a beautiful brunette by his side. She looks familiar to the girl, maybe they’ve shared a class before but all in all Y/N’s confused. Harry usually doesn’t stop by without letting her know (not that it mattered, he was over all the time it seemed) and definitely never brought another girl by.

“Harry? What’s going on?” Y/N asks, a yawn escaping her mouth afterwards and the other girl just smiles at Harry.

“Y/N, this is my girlfriend Liv. Liv, this is my best friend Y/N.” Harry says as he points at the girls, introducing them.

Y/N knows the respectful and proper thing to do is to greet her and welcome them into her to get to know one another, but she can’t wrap her brain around it all. She stares at them, more at the girl than Harry. She can’t bring herself to look at him without wanting to cry, she watches as Liv leans forward to give her a hug and tells her how it’s so great to finally meet her and then Y/N’s slamming the door in their face. She stares at the now closed door and hurries to lock it, she’s sure Harry will just open the door even though deep down she knows he won’t do that unless told otherwise that he can.

Usually, he talks to her about the girls he’s interested in, asks her if it’s okay to bring them over and gives her plenty of time to have her - unknown to him - breakdowns and prepare herself for this moment. She’s not sure when this happened or why he didn’t talk to her about it first, the only thing she’s sure of is the absolute heartache she feels right now. The painful jab in her heart with every beat, the feeling of her stomach falling. The pain that’s beginning to bloom in her head and the feeling of her knees hitting the floor, hard enough to leave a bruise but she can’t bring herself to care about that at the moment.

The immediate sting in her eyes as tears well up and fall from her eyes, the betrayal, the jealousy tearing its way up. The heartache overall is one she’s felt in smaller amounts as she listens to Harry talk about whichever girl he’s interested in asking out, but this.. this is something completely different. It’s intense, it burns and she can’t breathe. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest, beating faster than normal.

She lets out loud sobs, cries she should be embarrassed of but at this moment she can’t bring herself to care. She’s grateful her roommates aren’t here, they kept telling her it’s not worth it to stay best friends with Harry due to how much she liked him. She constantly argued that she knew what she was doing, she could handle her own if something like this happened. She should’ve listened to them, would she have stopped being friends with Harry? She doesn’t think so, might’ve been distant to allow her feelings to dwindle back down.

She’s not sure how long she stayed on the floor as tears streamed down her face when her phone rings. She grabs it and stares at the screen, Harry’s name flashing across the screen and she just sighs as she turns the ringer off and sets the phone on the couch. She can’t talk to him right now. She stares at the floor, memories of their friendship flicking in and out, the memory of their kiss haunts her, she feels stupid. She hoped they were moving towards a relationship, how silly of her to think they could ever be more than just friends.

After a couple hours, she manages to pull herself from the floor and begins to make her way to her bed. Her safe haven, she can wrap herself in her softest blanket and read her silly little romance books or watch her favorite movie, where she can wallow in her own self pity. There’s a knock on the door, whoever’s on the other side knocks one, two, three times before it goes silent. She hopes they’ll go away, her roommates have a key so it can’t be someone she has to open the door for.

“Y/N. It’s me, Harry. I don’t know what I did that upset you so much, she’s gone. It’s just me. Please open the door, let’s talk about this.” He says, somewhat muffled but she can still hear how his voice is watery and shaky, can hear the pain in his voice and she just sniffles as she walks towards the door.

“There’s… nothing to talk about. Go home.” Her voice is just a reflection on how she feels right now, she’s sure he can hear it from the other side.

“Yes there is, Y/N. You slammed the door, the look on your face… I don’t know what all that was about but you looked so hurt. I want to know what happened.” He says and she just frowns.

He’s never paid attention to how her face looked before so why does it matter, she opens the door and stares at him. Fresh tears welling up in the girls’ eyes and she swears she can feel her heart breaking even more. He looks just about how she thinks she looks. His eyes full of tears and eyelashes all clumped together, red cheeks stained with tears and his skin flushed. His lips are wet and he can’t stop pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You happened, Harry. I tried, God I tried so hard to get over it. But I can’t. I’m so in love with you it hurts. It hurts to hear you talk about the girls you like knowing it’s not me, hurts hearing all the girls gossip about you and the things you do for them. It hurts when you’re drunk and treating me like I’m yours, calling me all these sweet fucking pet names and holding me close to you. It hurts that we act like we’re together and we just aren’t, we’ll never be. I love you so much that I’m just hurting myself in the process. I’m so scared to lose you that I tell myself that just being your friend is okay. I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you” A sob interrupts her, a wet choking sound and she sighs.

“I can’t just keep hoping and praying that something will happen and we’ll finally be together, it hurts too much. I’m so lucky to have you in my life and be your friend, but I don’t know if I can handle just being your friend. I can’t handle hoping that I’ll get my chance. I’m tired of waiting for something that’ll never happen. I’m not cutting you out because I don’t want to lose you, I just need some time alone. I need to get over you and learn how to be okay with just being your friend and nothing more.” She says through her tears and immediately she’s wrapped in a strong hug, his scent filling her nose and she cries even harder.

“I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you and didn’t see it. Take as much time as you need honey, I’ll be waiting for you always.”

“Okay, thank you.” She says as she pulls away and he nods, a sad smile on his face that she wishes wasn’t because of her.

“I love you.” He says before she shuts the door once more, the wall of their friendship being built slowly.

‘I love you’ she thinks is just the worst thing she’s ever heard, just a painful reminder that the love they share has never been on the same page, just another shatter of her already broken heart.

You can’t have love without the pain, and she’s the definition of just how much love can truly hurt you.

[luxaofhesperides]

if you give a ghost a trauma: a parody fic

read on ao3.

Danny wishes to be sent someplace he could have a better family. Unfortunately, that lands him in a Gotham where tropes are made reality to the extreme. He really just can't catch a break. (or: a dcxdp parody fic where i make danny the only one able to see how bizarre things are. this does not help him in any way.)

. . .

“We’re gonna get you!” Maddie Fenton, a Bad Parent™ cries as she shoots her gun at Danny, her half dead son.

“No!” he wails, flying around as he dodges the shots. “I wish my parents weren’t trying to capture me for Evil Science Reasons! I wish I had a better family!”

“Lol, done,” said Desiree, snapping her fingers. 

Danny only has time to say Uh-oh before he’s sucked away into a magic portal and spit out into a dark and dreary city. In just the one second he’s there, before he even hits the ground, he hears gunshots, screaming, and the wailing of police sirens. Then he hits the ground and groans, releasing his ghost form to go back to being a human. 

“Where am I?” he asks himself, getting to his feet and looking around. The alleyway he’s in is empty and full of garbage just scattered around. Wherever he may be, it clearly needed to invest more in its sanitation department. 

He spots a fire escape on the side of a building and uses it to climb onto the rooftop, a totally normal course of action. Then he stares at the city, glowing with the street lights and neon business lights and a spotlight with the shape of a bat in it glowing on the clouds. 

“This might as well just happen,” Danny says, “My life is already so weird anyway.”

He stands there for some time, at a loss of what to do next. The wind is cold and brings with it a promise of rain, and from the looks of the dark clouds above him, it’s going to rain soon. Danny needs shelter, fast.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” says someone who snuck up behind him.

Danny shrieks and jumps, nearly going over the edge of the roof.

“Woah!” the person says, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to safety. “That was close!” 

Danny blinks up at his savior, then squints. This guy’s definitely not normal, since he’s wearing a domino mask and a lightly armored black suit with a blue bird emblem stretching across his chest. 

“Way to nearly kill him, Nightwing,” says a new person, dropping down onto the roof from the sky. This new person wears red and black, a pair of bandoliers crossing over his chest. 

“Well, I saved him, didn’t I!”

“Um, hi,” Danny interjects. “Thanks for grabbing me before I fell, but who are you?”

“You don’t know who we are?” blue bird asks rather incredulously.

“Do you think I’m asking just for fun.”

Red and black steps in with a smile. “I’m Red Robin, that’s Nightwing. We’re vigilantes trying to keep Gotham safe.”

Danny makes an educated guess that the city they’re currently in is Gotham. Not a city he’s ever heard before, but what does he know?

“Okay,” he says. There’s really not much else he can say.

“You never answered my question,” Nightwing says. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, just fine. No idea where I am or how to get home, but it can always be worse, you know?”

“Did you get lost?” Red Robin asks, pulling a holographic computer up from his wrist. Tucker would kill to get his hands on something like that. Danny wonders if he can get his own as a souvenir. 

“Something like that, yeah,” he replies. Another few gunshots ring out loudly through the streets, closer than they were before. Danny flinches, then ducks down a little, looking back towards the street apprehensively. “Um. You guys gonna do anything about that?”

The two vigilantes shrug, as if that’s an acceptable course of action. And then a hand shoots up and grabs the edge of the roof by Danny’s foot, making him jump in the air. Nightwing catches him yet again and moves him away from the ledge. 

A red helmet, leather jacket wearing guy built like a pro-wrestle hauls himself up the roof easily. There are guns tucked into holsters on his thighs and a red, block bat stuck on his chest. 

“Should I be concerned,” Danny says blankly. 

“Nah, it’s just Red Hood,” Red Robin replies, “The only person he ever tries to kill is me.”

“Cause you’re a replacement. And also, get over it, that was ages ago We’re good now. I haven’t even had a Pit Rage episode in months!”

“So the bullets you shot at me last week were just for fun?”

“Yeah, and they were rubber, so it’s not like you would have gotten hurt.”

Danny takes a few steps closer to Nightwing, hiding behind him. He’s getting bad vibes all around from that guy. 

“Tch,” a new voice says right behind Danny, making him flinch. A young boy with a sword steps out from behind him and joins the crew of vigilantes just hanging out on the roof. “As if he’s even worth that much attention.”

“Hello to you too, Demon Brat,” Red Robin says.

“How many of you are there?” Danny asks. “Don’t you need to like, protect the city?”

“Batgirl and Spoiler are working on it,” Nightwing says.

“We’re doing what?” another voice says, and a energetic blond girl dressed in purple armor hops onto the roof, tucking her grappling hook away. Following her is another person in all black, face fully covered, with stitches covering the mouth portion to make it seem as though they can’t talk. The person leaves the blond girl behind to head straight to Danny, making him take a few nervous steps back. 

“Dead,” she says, poking his chest with a finger.

Is that a threat? It feels like a threat. 

“No?” he tries. 

“What are you talking about, Batgirl?” Red Hood interrupts. “We all know the only dead person here is me.”

Everyone promptly groans, telling him to shut up about it and go one night without mentioning his death. 

Okay, that seems concerning! Is he another halfa? Is he like Vlad? Danny’s going to be so mad if he got dropped into another world directly into the hands of another Vlad. 

“You’re dead?” he asks, leaning away from Batgirl as she pokes him once more. 

“Yeah.”

“Same hat?” Danny tries, squinting at him.

“The fuck?” is the answer, which tells him that he probably doesn’t know what Danny’s on about. There’s still a 6% chance that he’s just lying to make Danny look like a fool, though. 

6% is more than 5%, which means it’s enough for him to just act on instinct and walk right up to the gun-wielding Red hood. He tries to consciously use his ghost sense, which is an odd feeling that reminders him of the moment before he hiccups. 

A light blue mist wafts out his mouth. 

Yep, the rumors are true: this man is dead.

“Once, again,” Red Hood says, “The fuck?”

“Seconded,” Nightwing adds.

“Third!” Spoiler joins in. 

Danny takes a page out of Batgirl’s book and pokes Red Hood’s chest. It’s very solid, only hard muscle, and reminds him a bit of Dan. That’s never a good sign. Something about Red Hood is making his skin crawl though, a sense of wrongness that sets alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind. 

“Did you come back instantly when you died?” he asks.

The white lenses of Red Hood’s helmet turn neon green. “Why the fuck are you asking me that.”

“Just checking. The green I’m seeing right now is making me think you’re a halfa.”

“What’s a halfa?” Red Robin interjects.

“An unlucky soul like me,” Danny responds, distracted. He lays his palm flat against Red Hood’s chest. The vigilante holds still, as if frozen, letting Danny do as he please. The ectoplasm he feels in other ghosts is usually calm, made unique by the personality of the ghost it belongs to, but it doesn’t roil and try to hurt the host like the ectoplasm in Red Hood is doing. 

He pulls back and looks around at the circle of vigilantes surrounding him. “Can anyone answer how he came back? Where did he even find this must rotten ectoplasm?”

“Pit,” Batgirl helpfully answers.

“Pit,” Danny repeats. “Like a pit of death? Toxic sludge? Landfill pit gone evil? What am I working with here.”

“Lazarus Pits,” the little one with the sword says. “How do you know about them?” He then pulls out his sword and points it at Danny, ignoring the way Nightwing hisses Robin, no! 

His name is Robin? Isn’t that just Red Robin’s name? Did this Robin have a color added to his name as well? 

“I literally don’t, but if it’s green and weird, then it’s probably ecto.” He turns back to Red Hood. “I’m gonna take care of it now.” And then he shoves his hand into Red Hood’s chest, ignoring the alarmed shouts from the other vigilantes. They try to pull him away, but Danny goes intangible, making their hands fall right through him as he gets a good grip on the ecto, sending his own out in a steady stream to chase the rotten flow towards his hand, then yanks it out. 

It’s green and goopy in his hands, steaming slightly in the air. “Ew,” Danny says. “That’s nasty. You were just living with this inside you?”

Red Hood doesn’t seem to hear him. 

Red Hood takes off his helmet and stares at the rotten ectoplasm in Danny’s hand. Nightwing approaches him cautiously, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Hood? You doing okay? How are you feeling?”

“It’s gone,” Red Hood answers, shocked. “The Pit Rage. It’s gone. I haven’t felt this clear headed since before I died.”

“That must have sucked,” Danny says empathetically, then shakes the nasty ecto off his hand. It lands on the roof with a wet splat. 

Once again: ew.

“How did you do that?” Red Robin asks, crowding into Danny’s space. Batgirl slides up behind him, trapping him between them. 

“Did you not just watch me yank it out? It was easy. Anyways, y’all got jobs to do, and I got places to go. So I’ll see you never!”

He tries to fly away, but only manages to get a few feet before he’s pulled down by multiple people grabbing at him.

“What is going on here,” A low, gravelly voice demands. Yet another vigilante appears, gliding out of the shadows. This one is much bigger than everyone else, cloaked in darkness, with a helm that has two little ear things poking out on top. 

“Batman,” Robin says, “This meta cured Hood of his Pit Madness.”

“I see,” Batman replies, looking Danny over. “Are you an orphan?”

What the fuck. Who just asks that?

“No.”

“Are your parents well?”

“Sure? My mom was pretty energetic while shooting at me before I came here.”

“You do not have to be unsafe in your home again,” Batman says, grabbing something out of his tactical fanny pack. “You can live with us instead.”

He holds out fucking adoption papers.

Danny backs up as fast as he can, shaking his head. “Oh, no! No you don’t! I did not trade one fruitloop for another!”

“No new brother?” Batgirl asks sadly. 

“Definitely not,” he insists. “No thank you! I’m fine as I am and fully plan on going home.”

Batman frowns. “You said your mother was shooting at you.”

“Yeah, and? The food in our fridge comes to life every meal and we have to fight it. This is normal for us. Chill out and put those papers away.”

The entire crew of vigilantes seems very put out with Batman obligingly puts the adoption papers away. 

“Yeah, I’m done here. Go back to protecting the city. I’m just gonna… go.”

Danny doesn’t wait for them to say anything else before flies away, remembering to go intangible this time. He soars through the polluted streets of Gotham, weaving between tall buildings made with dark stone and decorated with gargoyles. It’s all very dark and dreary, which means Sam would love it.

She would not be loving the pollution, though. Danny certainly isn’t. 

“I wish I could go home,” he says loudly, looking up at the sky expectantly. 

No magic portal appears to yoink him back. 

“I wish I was at home again, and not here!”

Desire does not appear to help him out. She leaves him stranded in Gotham, pouting at the sky until he gives up and flies down to sit on a new roof and angst about his situation. Hopefully this time a gaggle of vigilantes won’t bother him.

Resting his head against his hands, he sighs. Then again, and again, loudly. “Man, this sucks,” he says to himself.

“What’s got a kitten like you so down?” someone says behind him.

“I’m so tired of random people sneaking up behind me on rooftops,” he informs them without turning around. If they wanna talk to him, they gotta got to him, not the other way around.

“Ah, ran into the Bats, did you?”

They’re called Bats? But only two were Bats. None of the other vigilantes fit the theme. That’s just lazy and inconsistent. They should rebrand to something better.

The person walks over and sits down next to him. Danny glances over and is startled to find a woman in a leather body suit, with a hood that has cat ears and googles with an orange tint. 

…Is everyone in this city just dressed strangely at all times? Is this the normal fashion of Gotham?

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. Who are you?”

The woman laughs. “Oh, so you haven’t heard of Catwoman?”

“Nope. No clue who you are.”

“Well,” she purrs, “A pleasure to meet you. I’m a thief.”

The dots connect in his mind. “Like a cat burglar!”

“Yes, like that.”

“Man, this city is wild and I come from a place that deals with ghosts on a daily basis.”

“So what are you doing in a place like this? Gotham isn’t kind to newcomers.”

Danny sighs, yet again, and tilts his head back to look up at the cloudy, starless sky. “I made a dumb mistake and got sucked into a magic portal that spit me out here. I have no clue how I’m going to get home.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”

He glares at Catwoman. “I’m not open to being adopted. I’ll just eat any papers you send my way.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she reassures, “I have no interest in being a mother. But I have a spare bedroom if you need it, and I wouldn’t mind teaching you a few tricks of the trade. It’ll be fun, messing with Batman.”

Ah, so she’s doing this for Trickster Reasons. Danny can respect that. 

And he also doesn’t have any other options. Considering how much gun violence and general violence he’s hearing in this city, he’ll probably be killed an embarrassing number of times just from trying to find a place to sleep on the streets for one night. Between cold, dangerous streets with storm clouds hanging heavy over his head or a guest bedroom in the home of a thief with a theme, there’s really no choice.

“If you don’t mind me hanging around, I’d really appreciate having a place to sleep until I figure out a way home.”

“Come along, then! I was just about to turn in for the night.” Catwoman stands up, stretches, then takes hold of the whip on her waist and snaps it out. She takes a running leap off the building, then throws her whip out to wrap around a billboard to swing across the street. 

Danny watches her go, then follows her lead, flying behind her, ready to catch her just in case. But Catwoman moves with ease, clearly experienced in recklessly moving through the streets, and makes her way to a highrise apartment with no trouble at all. 

They land on a balcony just as the sky rumbles with ominous thunder. Another second later, and the clouds open up and heavy rain begins to fall. 

Catwoman throws the door open and they both scramble to get inside before they get drenched. The lights flick on, revealing a stylish modern apartment, filled with art pieces and ornamental bonsai trees. A few quiet cries come from corners of the room, and then cats appear, one after another, moving around Danny’s legs curiously before turning to Catwoman. 

“That was a close one,” Catwoman says conversationally as she takes off her hood and googles, revealing her face. Her pixie cut is messy and her eyes are bright and sharp, just like a cat’s. “I suppose since we’re going to be working together from now on, that we properly introduce ourselves.” She holds out a hand for to shake. “Selina Kyle. I look forward to the trouble we’ll cause together.”

Danny stares down at her hand, then takes hold of it. Looks like he’s going to be a thief! Well, it’ll be a fun story for later. 

He doesn’t want his name attached to his new life of crime, though. And, he figures, this is a fresh start. New life, new name. There’s one that pops into mind immediately, and he latches onto it, ready to step into the world of crime. 

“Call me Neal Caffrey,” he says, shaking her hand. “I’m ready to start when you are.”

[daquila]

Debating with Mr. Silly || Gojo x Reader

synopsis: who knew having silly debates with Satoru would lead to an accidental confession coming from his stupid lips

A/N: this is probably my fav fic now because it’s so sickly sweet I’m gonna explode ahaha..haha..

“ Goodbye Shoko! Goodbye Satoru! I’ll be heading home now, “ you giggled, waving to your friends as you exited Shoko’s office. The three of you idiots spent the time chatting about the most outrageous things ever— like the debate between salad, sandwich, or soup. It made Satoru lose all of his marbles; he was in denial that his beloved mochi could be considered a sandwich.

It was a nice way to relieve all of your stress from being a full-time jujutsu sorcerer. The job was horrifying, depressing, and stressful all at once— a literal three-in-one package. You somewhat wished that the school also paid for your therapy sessions, but they’re too disinterested to do that. Satoru just finished teaching (annoying) the first-years, and Shoko finally accomplished all of her reports by the time you were done with your mission. What a nice way to end a Friday.

The world was quiet enough, and you watched the blazing sun leave the sky. As you were about to reach the school’s main gate, you heard a familiar voice call out your name. It was Satoru— he was waving and running to you like a lost puppy.

“ Hey! Wanna walk home together? I heard that you moved to a spot closer to Jujutsu tech, “ he chimed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You replied with a quick smile and nod, bringing up the topic that caused a heated debate earlier.

“ Don’t you think that solid ice cream could be considered a salad? I mean— it’s a combination of all sorts of things! “

“ Y/N, ice cream is clearly a soup, “ you laughed at his remark, going on and on about how it’s clearly a salad.

You guessed that time must have slipped through your fingers, because you were already in front of your house’s entrance as Satoru continued his ramblings. It was already evening, the wind was cold, and there were barely any available taxis near you. You offered for the sorcerer to stay for the night, which he gladly accepted. It wasn’t anything special or new, because he has crashed at your place a couple of times.

While getting ready to prepare dinner, you felt your heartstrings tug at the sight of Satoru chopping vegetables. It felt awfully domestic doing this with the man that you loved the most. The only problem was that you weren’t sure if he liked you back or not— especially since he hasn’t been the same since Suguru’s passing. But then you also refrained yourself from confessing your love to him due to the dangerous nature of being a sorcerer.

Even after eating dinner, cleaning up, and watching a movie together, you still thought about what life would've been like if you let your mouth run about how much you loved him. He was sooo your type, the literal epitome of perfection.

“ What are ya thinking about? “ Satoru said, spreading his legs even further apart. He was taking more than 80% of the couch, which made you scoot over to the edge of it.

You talked about how people perceive their dream paradise in different ways— some have it as simple as home or as questionable as a whole shrine dedicated to themselves. Satoru laughed at the thought of it, because it sounded foolish for someone to have a shrine of their own.

“ Stop laughing, Satoru! I know damn well that you would love to have your own shrine! “

“ Nuh-uh! I can think of a better paradise than that, “ he argued as he started snorting from laughing too much. You felt humiliated from how much he mocked your claims, which made you ask about what his dream paradise would be like. There’s no way that this idiot’s dream paradise would be better than yours!

“ Fine ‘Toru! Then what’s your dream paradise? “

“ Anywhere with you, “ he winked, accompanying it with the most sickening and boyish grin to ever exist.

A/N: HES SO FUN TO WRITE IMGONNA EXPLODEEE

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-six of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Kon takes the bag, then peeks inside it with a puzzled little frown. Tim, again, makes a note to buy him more stuff. Kon is gonna expect presents every time he sees him, by the time he’s done with him. Because Kon deserves nice things and also–well–

Well, actually . . . okay, it’s not actually going to be necessary for Tim to get Kon a present every single time he sees him, admittedly, just . . . well. He wants to, he guesses. Wants Kon to feel valued for once in his fucking life, since as far as he can tell no one has ever actually gone to any effort whatsoever to make him feel like that. Like–ever. Not even once. 

If Tim maybe spoils him a little in the process, well–that’s only balancing out the bullshit, isn’t it? 

“Oh,” Kon says, his eyes widening a little in surprise before he frowns in confusion. Tim continues to notice the eyeliner. It’s just a little bit smudged, like maybe Kon’s still learning how to do it right, and it’s also low-key triggering an emotional crisis in Tim’s entire fucking everything, to be honest. “What's . . .?” 

“I mean, it’s a couple of things?” Tim says, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward about his gifting decisions. Choices. Choicisions. “I don’t know if it’s very, uh, romantic, but . . .” 

“‘Romantic’,” Kon repeats in the exact same awkward way he did “flowers”. Tim only doesn’t curl up and die by sheer force of will. 

“Yeah,” he says. Kon stares at him for a long, intent moment, then looks back down into the bag and pulls out the fat little plastic bag of Hawaiian-import gummy candies on top of it. Tim will take any excuse to get calories into him at this point, even if it’s just candy. Chocolates probably would’ve been more date-appropriate, but when he was looking for popular Hawaiian candies, these ones kept coming up. 

“I haven’t seen this brand in months,” Kon says, looking bewildered. “I didn’t even know they sold it on the mainland.” 

“They do not,” Tim says, trying not to look embarrassed. “I ordered it online.”

And also paid for expedited shipping to make sure it’d get here on time. 

“Oh,” Kon says, his cheeks turning just a little pink as he ducks his head and smiles again. Then he glances back down into the bag with a puzzled little frown and tilts his head. “. . . is that a Switch case? What’s that for?” 

“Because there was too much packaging to make you lug around all night but putting a loose Switch in there seemed like a bad idea,” Tim replies reasonably. It’s the Lite, because he still doesn’t know if Kon has either a TV or any real space for one in his room, so Kon can’t possibly worry about it being too expensive like he did with the phones. And even if it weren’t the Lite, it’s still not the OLED, so he thinks he’s doing a great job with the self-restraint, personally. 

“You got me a Switch?” Kon says. Tim continues to not know how to explain how much money he intends to spend on him, so just shrugs.

“Just the Lite. I got you the turquoise, since it doesn't come in green. And an online subscription, so we can play together,” he says. He hasn’t dug his own Switch out in a few months–too much else to do–but he figures if doing that gets Kon to accept the gift and gets him closer to apartment/cul-de-sac territory, it’s not exactly a burden. “I wasn’t sure what kind of games you were into, so I got a few different ones. They’re all in the case, it’s got interior pockets.” 

“I–you–” Kon fumbles a little, then turns red again. “You really wanna play together?” 

Tim wants to throw a lot of people off a lot of roofs. Hard. Just so hard. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Of course I do.” 

Kon gets even redder and shoves the candy back in the bag, looking away. 

“Thanks. That'd be, um–cool,” he says. “Uh–ready to go?” 

“Uh, there's one more thing in there, actually,” Tim admits, a little embarrassed by said thing but also not wanting Kon to miss it and accidentally throw it away later. It's silly, but . . . he doesn't know, he'd just thought it was kind of cute or whatever. 

Maybe “cute” isn't really a Kon thing, but he seemed to like the goat okay, so . . . 

“There is?” Kon peers back into the bag, then digs in through the tissue paper with a curious frown. “What's–oh. Huh.” 

He pulls out the chunky little plastic figure at the bottom of the bag and blinks at it. It's a Superboy toy, not because Tim was deliberately looking for a Superboy toy to give him but because the coincidence when he'd tripped over it had just seemed–fortuitous, he doesn't know. 

“It's a Duplo toy,” Tim supplies. “I mean, it was licensed so I assume you got paid for it at some point, but the set it's from came out while you were off-grid and I don't know how much your manager ever kept you in the loop on those things anyway, plus you said you didn't know what Duplo even was so when I found it I figured you didn't have one. The actual set came with, like, a few different hero characters, but it's sold out and I don't think they've done another run. I just found that little guy being sold solo on eBay.” 

“You got me a toy of myself?” Kon asks, giving him a wry look. 

“Superman's looked stupid,” Tim lies, because he would sooner burn his wallet than buy Superman merch at this point, never mind that he knows the money all goes to either various accredited charities or the Justice League. “Though I guess Supergirl's or Steel's would've been okay. I don't really know how close you are to them, though.” 

“I would say ‘not at all', probably,” Kon says, turning over the toy in his hand and peering more closely at it. “‘Duplo'? So like . . . the kid toys you were talking about at the museum?” 

“Um, yeah,” Tim says. “I mean, you don't really own any childhood stuff, right, so . . . I don't know, I figured why not?” 

“You're a Gothamite, man, you should've gotten me Bat toys,” Kon says, ducking his head with another smile. “Batman wouldn’t approve.” 

“Batman's just an urban legend,” Tim pretends to believe. Kon laughs.

“Please, that's just what you guys say to cops and tourists,” he teases. 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement,” Tim says. “Or make any comments on how incredibly inaccurate any nonspecific bat-themed superhero toys that've been commercially produced may or may not be.” 

“Oh yeah?” Kon asks, laughing again. It's that still-unfamiliar bright laugh that Robin's never gotten out of him, and Tim feels some very weird ways about it. Like. Several very weird ways. Many very weird ways. So many. 

Fuck, he's in deep here. But that's not news, so whatever. If Tim had ever once in his life gone to any effort whatsoever to avoid trouble he wouldn't be Robin and Bruce would be an even more vengeful and unhappy asshole who never talked to Dick and probably the Joker would be dead, which would admittedly be a single specific improvement but otherwise would suck. Like, really suck. 

Tim is gonna be a supervillain someday, yeah, but that's a rational decision that he's deliberately making, not a “driven by personal trauma and tragedy” grief response. And Bruce would be absolutely miserable as a supervillain, anyway, plus he'd never be able to convince Dick to go for it and then Dick would have to fight him and it'd be awful and Alfred would never make any of them post-patrol cookies again, which would immediately make this the worst possible timeline. And then someone would have to go trick the Flash into fixing it all and–look, it'd just be very complicated and unnecessary. So being Robin is just a better idea all around, really, and also saves the timeline from any speedsters happening to it. 

Again. 

“I just thought it was cute, I don’t know,” Tim says. “He’s got his little earring and leather jacket and stupid smirk, what can I say, I was endeared.” 

“‘Endeared’, huh?” Kon says with a grin, holding the little figure against his chest. 

“Oh, downright smitten,” Tim deadpans. Kon laughs again. 

“Nerd,” he says in obvious and unexpectedly fond amusement, which reminds Tim of him telling him to kiss him in the department store changing room and gives him a little bit of that whole cliché “butterflies in the stomach” rush. Or possibly batarangs, from how they feel. They might be batarangs. He forces himself to not look weird or sappy and just shrugs. 

“Maybe,” he says. “Anyway. Now I’m ready to go.” 

“Where are we going?” Kon asks curiously, and Tim smiles at him. 

“Somewhere nice, like I promised,” he says. Kon snorts, but doesn’t do anything to hide his own pleased smile. 

“Sure, whatever,” he says as he drops the Duplo figure back into the gift bag, still smiling. “Keep your secrets and lead the way, babe.” 

“I can do that,” Tim says, and then reaches out and catches Kon’s free hand to hold while they walk, lacing their fingers together. Kon turns red again and really smiles at him. His hand still feels too-soft and immeasurably strong, even though Tim knows for a fact that the TTK does more heavy lifting than Kon’s actual muscles do, or even can. No matter how the Kryptonian physiology is or isn’t coming in, the TTK is always gonna be stronger, Tim’s pretty sure. It’s not like it’s not going to get enhanced by the yellow sunlight absorption and the process of Kon’s physical maturation too, after all. 

But anyway, more importantly, he finally came up with a date idea he thinks Kon might like, so . . . 

Well, if Kon doesn’t like it, there’s backup ideas. But–he thinks Kon might like it, at least. It’s kind of weird, but so is Kon and so is he and so are their lives, and also there’ll be a gift shop to buy him stuff at. 

Tim is going to buy out that gift shop if Kon actually likes this date. 

Once Kon's done making fun of him, anyway, which he is definitely gonna do when he realizes what Tim is about to use a fake ID to do. 

. . . maybe he can just pretend to be eighteen, actually. Kon never did read that report he wrote up for him; he doesn't have any way to know how old he actually is. 

Eh, no, that's too weird and also would be annoying to remember without an associated cover. Fuck it, Tim will just live with the teasing, he guesses.

[moonstruckme]

Also would love more of the art student x stem student peter writing,, again totally just self indulgent here but I adore their dynamic I could go on forever, like study dates but she’s working and Peter hangs around revising notes in her studio and they both just accompany each other AGHHH I could think about them for ages

-🍁🤭

Thanks lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 727 words

Your hand comes into view, taking Peter’s attention from his notes for the first time in hours as you slide a paper plate stacked with pizza slices towards him. 

“They were out of stir fry,” you say, “but they let me take extra pizza since they felt bad.” 

Peter blinks, realizing his eyes are dry and achy. “When did you get this?”

“Just now,” you say, though it sounds like a question. Your brows twitch towards each other, somewhere between bemused and concerned. “Pete, I’ve been gone for like a half hour. You didn’t notice?”

Peter blinks again, hard. He gives his head a little shake. “No, I, uh…I guess I was too distracted. Thanks for the pizza.” 

“Course.” You kiss the top of his head as you round the table, sitting down across from him with a couple slices of your own. Peter watches as you zone back into your work, a pensive frown coming to your face. You’re in the beginning stages of a new project, and the last few hours have been a frustrating cycle of erasing, sketching, and erasing again. Peter doesn’t get how you can even see through all the faded, half-removed lines on your page. 

“How’s it going?” he asks, tentative.

Your frown worsens. “Not bad,” you say, in a tone that says not great, either. “I’ve landed on an idea, but it just…it doesn’t feel perfect. I don’t want to start and then have to change my mind again.” 

“Didn’t you say that’s how it usually goes?” he prompts. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, and you sound so upset about it that Peter has to—just has to—reach across the table and take your hand. You offer him a small smile and return the squeeze he gives your fingers.

“Want a break?” he asks you, and you raise your eyebrows.

“I just took my break,” you remind him. 

It’s difficult to love someone and see them treat themselves how you treat yourself. Peter would count a run to the dining hall as a break, too, but he doesn’t like it when you do it. Still, that doesn’t give him a lot of ground for argument.

“Then can I see?” he tries, hoping talking it through will make you feel better.

You chew your lip for a second before nodding, going to slide your paper towards him. 

“Nope, hold on.” Peter stands up on his seat, stepping one gangly leg and then the other over the table before lowering himself into the chair beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, hugging you so that your face is squished against his bicep. “Better,” he says. “Go on.” 

You laugh at his over-the-top affection, but don’t move away, going into the details of your original idea versus what you’ve come up with on paper. The abstract always falls short of the concrete, Peter knows that, and yet he feels your disappointment in your inability to fulfill the full scope of your vision acutely. You grow more animated as you talk, eventually bringing the paper closer and sketching while he watches. Peter suggests his own solutions as you work. They’re useless of course, but he knows that having a sounding board helps you think, so he’ll keep the conversation going any way he can. To your credit, you don’t tell him all the ways he’s wrong. You only hmm and huh and then do your idea anyway. 

After a while, you come up with something you’re happier with. It’s still not perfect, but Peter reminds you again of your own tenets; that it never will be, and your only job is to do the best you can with what you have. You’re smiling by now, so it’s a win in his book. 

“You gonna talk me through your biochem notes now?” you ask him cheerily. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” He kisses the side of your head. “You’re a gem for offering, but we both know you’ll get a headache.” 

“I’ll eat my pizza while you talk,” you propose, picking up a now cold slice of your dinner. “C’mon, it’s only fair.” 

Peter grins at you, your face lined with tiredness and hand stained with silver pencil lead but eyes alight with that fizzy energy you get from creation. “Okay,” he concedes. “But when we go home, we’re watching the most mindless show we can find on TV.”

[jupiter-soups]

a sheep in wolf's clothing

pairing + tag: joel miller x f!reader, established relationship, fluff

summary: joel miller is not quite as scary as the people of jackson believe him to be. at least, not around you.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: kinda been dealing with some writers block and i thought i'd write a cute fluffy one shot to deal with it. please let me know what you think! also, thank you to the incredible @papipascalispunk for beta-ing!

The swing of Joel’s sledgehammer squarely met the metal pole, pushing it down further into the hard earth with a raw strength that made the pair of teens watching grimace.

“God, he’s scary today. Why’s he hulking out so much? Who pissed him off?” The taller of the teens, Nathan, whispers to his friend, whilst leaning against his shovel for support. 

“I don’t know, but whoever it is better get their shit together, because he’s gonna end up snapping. We do not want to be here for that,” Callum responds with a conspiratorial tone, gesturing for Nathan to come closer so he could divulge some gossip.

“Apparently, before he got to Jackson, he was this total killing machine, just ruthless, relentless and bloodthirsty,” Callum stagewhispers, peeking out of the corner of his eye to where Joel was clearly funneling pure rage in each swing of his hammer.

“Why would they even let some mad man in here with us?” Nathan responds nervously, with much less subtlety in how he was eyeing Joel’s movements and his apparent familiarity with swinging a blunt object.

“I guess he adopted Ellie, or something. Maybe that mellowed him out a bit?” Callum winces at a particularly hard swing of the hammer, one that made Joel grunt out in effort, wiping the back of his hand against his forehead as he stepped back, seemingly satisfied with his work.

“Clearly not enough. Ellie’s dad, huh?” Nathan lets out a huff of an exhale, reminiscing on a particularly painful evening where his romantic advances on Ellie were met with a swift and brutally painful punch in the gut. “Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Their gossiping fades away into a terrified silence, as Joel stalks up to where they’re standing, walking slowly and with eyes slightly narrowed. The two practically shrink under his gaze as he approaches.

“You two just gonna stand around all day or get to fuckin’ work like the rest of us,” Joel grits out, the furrow of his brow informing the two that they were nowhere near quiet enough when gossiping.

“Uh, I–”

“We were j–”

“Stop fuckin’ around and dig.” Before Joel even finished his sentence, the pair scrambles back over to the patch of soil they were assigned to clear, working with a vigor that they didn’t even know they were capable of. 

—-----------

Joel had sort of assumed that the rumors about him had died down. No one crossed the street when they saw him anymore. No one even begged to get swapped to a different patrol route when grouped with him, terrified of what he might do outside of the safety of laws and watchful eyes in Jackson. 

He shifts his head from side to side as he walks home on the barely illuminated streets, stretching out the strain from working all day. He holds a paper bag close to his body, trying to keep it dry from the light rainfall that had begun at some point between him leaving the building site and stopping at the bakery. 

A smile breaks through his cold exterior as he finally approaches his house and sees the living room light still on, a beacon welcoming him home.

To you.

In his eagerness to see you, he forgot to take off his dirty work boots, a fact you quickly remind him of with a croaky call of “Shoes!”, the second he turned the corner into the living room. 

“Sorry, baby,” He laughs quietly, tossing the paper bag he was carrying onto your lap where you were sprawled out on the couch, before heading back into the hall to kick off his boots.

You gasp in excitement as you open the paper bag and see three of your favorite caramel cookies from the bakery, immediately regretting it as your throat stung from the act.

The cold that currently had you couchridden under the warm embrace of a thick woolen blanket had also meant that you weren’t able to pick up the rare treats. The bakery only made them once a month, and typically ran out by noon. Your heart swelled as you realized Joel must have gone out of his way on an already busy day, just to get them for you.

“How did you manage to get three of them?” You ask in awe as he reenters the room and moves to join you where you were sitting, lifting your extended legs to rest his back against the back of the couch and placing them over his lap. His hands settled on your legs, rubbing them gently through your thick winter pajama pants. 

“Guess there’s some good in being scary, ol’ Joel Miller,” He chuckles, taking a cookie from your extended hand and taking a bite.

You begin to sit up slightly to take a bite too, but visibly wince when your head begins to spin from the movement. Joel stops you instantly, dropping his cookie back into the bag on your lap to rearrange your pillows behind you into a slightly more seated position.

“You’re still not doing well,” He tuts, disapproval radiating off of him in a way that made you want to roll your eyes. “Shouldn’ta made me go to work today, darlin’, I should’a been here for you.”

“Joel,” you reassure, “I’m completely fine, barely got the sniffles at this point.” He raises an eyebrow at your blatant lie, taking in the sweaty sheen on your forehead and nasally voice before sighing and settling back into his seat. You weren’t in a state to argue.

“So, big, bad Joel Miller scares the town folk into giving him extra cookies?” You tease, drawing a laugh out of the guilty man sitting next to you. His grip on your shins loosens slightly as he begins to actually relax again, much to your satisfaction. He was already stressed enough in the morning when he had to leave you to go fill in for someone at the construction site, almost canceling after you spent most of the night awake, shivering and sniffling. You didn’t want him to feel even more guilty, regardless of the fact that you had been the one who insisted that he goes. 

“You should’a heard some of the stuff they were sayin’ about me today,” He shook his head in feigned disbelief, well aware of his reputation. “Somethin’ about being ruthless and relentless,”

You laugh through a bite of the cookie, “I could see that.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, “Oh, really?”

“At least the relentless part. There’s been more than a few times I’ve had to tap out,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively at him, causing him to shake his head at you, trying to fight back the way his lips were turning up at the corners in amusement. 

He watches you finish off the second cookie in a comfortable silence, a faint smile on his face as he observes the absolute glee in your eyes with each bite. His fingers begin to play with the hem of your pajama pants the more he watches you, and you can sense the slight anxiety in his movements.

“Stop worrying, Joel, I was fine. I promise. You know the building team needed you today.”

He grumbles a quiet response that you don’t quite make out, something about ‘incompetent,’ and ‘ill-equipped,’ before turning his annoyance to you, “I already know you didn’t drink enough water.”

You nudge him gently in the stomach with your knee, prompting him to drop it, which he does with a moody sigh.

“How was Ellie today?” He opts to change the subject.

“Not been around too much. She’s still running around after Dina, thinking she's so slick. I know we need to wait for her to come to us about it, but I wish she would just tell us already.” His soft brown eyes betray the unease he felt at the issue.

“I hope…” He trails off in a worried tone that’s familiar to you; the, I think I’m fucking up tone. “I hope she doesn’t think she can’t talk to me about it.” You reach your hand out and grab his, big and warm and immediately squeezing and rubbing your hand within his to warm up your freezing fingers. ”I suppose I can be a little scary sometimes. Those kids down at the site sure thought so,” He chuckles once, humorlessly and self-deprecatingly, reaching over to grab your other hand to warm up that one too.

“There’s no fucking way, Joel. Maybe those kids who’ve never been outside of the walls for a day in their lives were scared of you, but we know you’re a big ol’ softie. Besides, there’s not much that scares Ellie. Definitely not an old man that she could easily beat in a fight,” You tease, relieved when his shoulders seem to relax a little. 

Joel leans forward, cupping your chin in his hand to pull you in for a kiss. You don’t let him indulge, perhaps for the first time in your relationship. “Joel, I’ll just get you sick too. You gotta be back at work tomorrow, remember?” Your heart squeezes at the almost pout on his face, but he doesn’t push the matter, instead starting to get up with a grunt, gently placing your legs back down on the couch where he had been sat. He turns to you with an expectant look and reaches out a hand.

“Let’s head up to bed, darlin’,”

You blink. “Joel, I just said I can’t get you sick. I’ll just sleep down here for the night, the couch is comfy enough.”

His hand stays extended for a moment, before letting it drop. “Fine,” he states resolutely, “I suppose I’ll see you in the mornin’, then?” His voice seems almost too innocent, and your suspicions are confirmed when he drags the warm blanket from your body in one swift motion and starts walking towards the stairs. 

“Joel!” You exclaim, “What the fuck?” 

He pauses part way up the stairs to your bedroom and gives you a nonchalant shrug. “This is my blanket. Can’t go to sleep without it.” He turns back and continues to head up the stairs. You grumble at the real satisfied little smirk on his face as he does so.

“But…” You groan and roll off the warm couch, and begin to plod up the stairs to your shared bed. 

Fine, if he wants to get sick so badly, I’ll let him. 

—-------------

“Shouldn’ Miller be here by now?” Nathan says as he eyes the entrance to the build site nervously, doing his best to appear busy.

“I guess he’s sick today, heard he got a fever or something.” Callum’s words instantly ease Nathan’s rigid posture.

“Thank God for that,” He mutters, letting the shovel in his hands drop to the ground with a relieved sigh. 

“Or maybe,” Callum smiled sinisterly, “He’s out plotting his next kil–” He’s cut off when a hand is smacked down onto the nape of his neck, turning into a painful grip that swivels his head in the direction of his assailant and the project’s latest stand-in worker, Ellie Williams.

“Why don’t you fucks get back to work, hmm?” Her grip tightens on the back of Callum’s neck, and he visibly flinches under her exacting gaze. Nathan gulps and reaches to pick up his shovel as quickly as possible. Joel Miller was definitely not the scariest person in Jackson

tags: @gasolinerainbowpuddles @beardedjoel @huffle-punk

thank you for reading <3 please let me know your thoughts :)

[aestheticpearl]

— 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

✧·˚ three small moments when elias realized he was in love

𝓲.

“do you think if we met under better circumstances we would still be together?”

“yes.”

elias doesn’t even hesitate at your question and you feel you heart flutter at his confident answer.

“i would’ve asked you out regardless.”

you can’t help but grin.

“why?”

“i don’t want to sound creepy.” elias chuckles nervously and you join in his laughter in an attempt to soothe his nerves.

“come on just tell me, please.” you move closer to him on the couch and he places his arm around you.

“i thought you were really good looking and just my type. honestly if that bomb hadn’t gone off i probably would’ve gone home and thought about you till the next morning— i don’t know this sounds creepy.”

“no no it’s cute, i want to hear more.”

elias sighs in defeat before continuing.

“i don’t know something about you was just so eye catching. maybe it was the way you fidgeted with your fingers when you were waiting for a customer to come up for assistance or the way you adjusted your necklace like three different times in the same minute.”

“you really liked watching me huh?”

the obvious statement makes something in elias’ brain click. he’s never been so observant with anyone like this before, you’re the first that he’s ever been so invested in.

“yeah uh i guess i do.”

𝓲𝓲.

“you gotta stay still i’m not very good at this.”

you’ve been doing elias’ nails for at least a solid half hour, you keep seeming to mess up but thankfully elias seems to have the patience of a saint.

“you’re doing great. just take your time, i’m in no rush anyway.”

elias watches as you nod and continue carefully painting the black polish on his fingernails. with anyone else he would tell them to hurry up or just take over entirely, but once again with you it’s different.

he doesn’t feel the need to rush you or groan at the fact you’re taking so long to simply paint his nails. he should be getting upset and frustrated that such a simple thing as taken so long, but he can’t seem to care how long it takes while you’re here with him.

“okay i think that’s as good as they’re gonna get, i’m sorry i really tried.”

“nonsense they’re better than anything i could do.”

“really?”

he nods and for the next fifteen minutes elias explains how much he loves how well you did his nails. from how well the paint job is to the time you took to get it perfect just for him.

“you’re just saying that.”

“nah, i don’t like lying to you. i very much mean whatever i say to you.”

you feel your face grow warm at the honesty.

“thank you.”

𝓲𝓲𝓲.

you had been asleep on elias for over two hours now and elias himself just couldn’t find it in him to sleep as peacefully as you. he laid awake staring at the ceiling thinking about how much you’ve changed who his is. he started to wonder if maybe he had gotten too soft.

“elias..?”

your sleepy voice pulls elias out of his thoughts and he quickly looks down at you. he swears the image of you in that moment made his heart skip two beats. you look too cute, all sleepy with messy hair and your eyes barely opened. he clears his throat before speaking to you.

“what’s up? you okay?”

“nightmare.”

“i thought i felt you flinch awake. was it brewhouse again?” what else could it be? he thought to himself.

“it was just so loud, it startled me.”

“i get that, i’m right here if you need me.”

you move up to rest on the pillow with him instead of his chest and elias wraps his arm around your waist.

“i know, thank you.”

you close your eyes and rest your head a few inches away from his and elias watches as you fall back asleep.

he can’t help but lean his head against yours gently and decide to try to fall asleep once again.

he falls asleep with ease.

made with a glitter gel pen✨

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

[lady-lostmind]

Sleep

for Stobin Month prompt: Safe

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 676 | Rating: T

ao3 link

Robin hovers on the porch of Steve’s massive house. She’s never been here before. Was never cool enough to be invited to one of King Steve’s blowout parties when he was still in school. And the whole friends thing is…new. Well, at least in the sense of being friends outside of work. They’ve had the same shifts all summer, and were definitely getting close before the whole end of the world as we know it bit, but they weren’t, yet. And then there was Russians, and torture, and drugs, and bathroom confessions, and blobby meat monsters, and then Steve had shoved his phone number and address into her hand and insisted she come by whenever. That he knows it’s hard to be thrown into all of…whatever the fuck. And now she’s here. At two in the morning, on Steve Harrington’s porch because the quiet at her house was too fucking quiet. 

She takes a deep breath and knocks, hoping to all shit that Steve was serious about the whenever part of his offer. Robin shuffles her feet, tugging her bag higher on her shoulder, and is just starting to regret her decision to come here when a light turns on and Steve rips the door open, hair sticking up in every direction, a pair of pajama pants hanging low on his hips and a nail bat in his hand that he drops to his side immediately when he sees who’s at his door in the middle of the night. 

Robin’s eyes drop to the weapon and then flit back up to Steve. “Gonna put me out of my misery?” 

Steve’s face drops and he shakes his head, leaning the bat off to the side and stepping back to let her in. Robin steps into the spacious foyer and picks at her nails, not sure what she even expected out of coming here. Steve shuts the door behind her and then they’re just…standing there. Staring at each other. And actually, maybe letting the nightmares get her is better than this because fuck if this isn’t awkward and–

Steve sighs and tugs her forward, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m so glad you came over. I haven’t slept in like four days.” 

Robin sags with relief, letting Steve hold her up and tucking her face in against his chest. “Me either.” 

Steve chuckles. “Why didn’t you come over sooner?”

Robin shrugs. “Wasn’t sure I really should. Why didn’t you call?”

Steve sighs. “I was trying to give you space to process all the crazy shit, I guess. It’s uh– a lot. The first time.” 

She pulls back, eyes wide and heart slamming into her throat. “But this was it, right? Like, no more crazy shit. It’s over, right?”

Steve’s mouth flattens into a tight line and he sucks in a deep breath. “I hope so.” He rubs his hand on her shoulder and nudges her in the direction of the stairs. “Come on. Let's try to get some sleep.” 

Robin trudges up the stairs, her limbs feeling heavy as she lets Steve guide her down the hall and into what is quite possibly the ugliest bedroom she’s ever seen in her life. 

She lets out a snort, opening her mouth to comment on the over abundance of plaid when Steve’s hand covers half her face. 

“Don’t. It’s bad. I know. I’m too tired to defend my fourteen year old self right now.” 

Robin rolls her eyes but nods, dropping her bag on the floor and toeing out of her shoes, watches as Steve climbs in the bed and gets situated before holding up the blanket for her to climb in after him. She doesn’t let herself think too long about how this is objectively weird. Just climbs in and sinks into Steve’s ridiculously comfortable mattress with a sigh, eyes already drooping closed. Steve tugs her arm, getting her to scooch closer, her head ending up on his chest, legs tangling together, and for the first time since the world almost ended, she drifts off to sleep feeling safe.

Stobin month prompt list by @lavenderstobins

[salty-croissants]

A male reader gets into a bar fight after someone insults bullfrog, the aftermath has the frog taking care of his bruises while worrying about his careless attitude towards his own life.

((Sorry, my first time ever requesting so a bit nervous. 😅))

Thank you for the request !

I gotta say , I really love this concept for a Bullfrog story : it’s just so neat and creative , so honestly thank you for sending this :D 

Hope it turned out okay ! 

Details : use of male reader ; 

established relationships ; 

presence of violence , mild swearing and blood 

That night was supposed to be … well , like any other night , with you accompanying your boyfriend to one of his missions and waiting for him in a nearby bar .

Before he left , Bullfrog didn’t miss the opportunity to give you a goodbye kiss ( you had to get on your knees to allow him to do that , which never failed to make him adorably flustered ) , and as he gave you one last tender caress on your cheek he also left you with a reminder : 

< Please stay safe , mon choux !

 I should be back soon , if you need me don’t be afraid to call me , and make sure to - > 

< Hey , don’t worry , I’m gonna be careful … besides , you know I can handle myself just fine if something doesn’t go right . > 

< Je sais , je sais … still , I’ll be here as fast as I can : I did promise you we’d spend some time together when we get home , and let’s just say I’m really looking forward to it , my love ~ > 

You couldn’t help but smile while watching him rush off and quickly disappear in the darkness .

He was such a sweetheart , no one would’ve been able to guess how lethal he was on the job and how quickly he could end the lives of the targets unfortunate enough to meet him … 

As you sat on one of the bar’s chairs , lost in thought with a drink in your hand , time went by surprisingly quickly , and when you begun to glance at the door to see if Bullfrog had arrived you felt a presence next to you …

< Well hello there , good to see such a pretty face here at this hour … >

You turned around to find a … quite sketchy looking man staring at you :

since the place was pretty crowded you hadn’t paid much attention to him , but now it seemed like he had made the decision to engage in conversation … something that was a bit unsettling , given that he was a complete stranger trying to randomly flirt with you . 

< Uh … > 

You took a sip of what was left of your drink , making sure to avoid hehe contact to reinforce the fact that you weren’t interested . 

… but he didn’t seem to take the hint , and was it just your impression or did he move closer … ? 

Well , if he even dared to try anything you were more than ready to make good use of your fighting skills . 

After some more uncomfortable silence , the man spoke again , this time a clear disgust in his tone …

< Y’know , I’ve seen you talking to that … thing before you came in .

Honestly I can’t help but wonder how you can feel something positive for a hybrid :

I mean - they’re all such pathetic , worthless creatures , am I right ? > 

The more he talked , the more you felt your blood boil …

< I’ll have you know that that “thing” you’re referring to is my boyfriend . > 

, you coldly replied , giving him a warning glare .

< … 

Pfft - wait you’re serious ? Holy shit ! > 

He laughed loudly in response , causing some of the people around to give you both their attention .

The last thing you would’ve wanted was an audience … but you knew that you couldn’t let that massive douchebag get away with saying those things . There was no way you would let it slide .

< You - you mean to tell me that you’d rather be with a fucking frog than an actual person ? 

C’mon , don’t be ridiculous … that little monster doesn’t deserve a guy as cute as you , you can do so much better th - > 

It all happened in a few seconds … 

You suddenly stood up , and before you could even stop to think about what you were doing punched the man on the face hard enough to knock him down on the floor , the terrified and excited screams of the small crowd ringing in your head .

< Don’t you DARE say that shit about him ever fucking again , YOU HEAR ME !? > 

He slowly stood up , wiping a few drips of blood that had fallen from his nose after the impact , and the way he furiously looked at you made it clear that he was mad … very mad . 

< Gh … you … I’M GONNA KILL YOU !!! > 

Everyone who was left quickly fled from the bar , leaving you and him furiously fighting without giving the other a chance to breathe .

While you were definitely better trained , the man was unfortunately a lot bigger than you , and every successful hit he landed on you was starting to hurt … but you couldn’t give up , not after what you heard him say . 

Eventually , a well-directed punch in the stomach caused you to fall on your knees , the pain making your vision become blurry .

< Heh - that’s what you get you bitch !! > 

His eyes were clouded with a terrifying euphoria as he grabbed you by the hair …

< Oh I’m gonna enjoy this … > 

You shut your eyes , trying to prepare yourself to receive your worst beating in years … but that’s when you felt his grip loosening , letting you fall down on the floor . 

< y/n ! > 

That voice … could it really be … ? 

< B … Bullfrog … ? > 

You slowly opened your eyes again to find him on top of the man’s body , whose throat had been cut open by the assassin’s blades .

< I’m … *cough* …

I’m sorry … I know , this is a mess , but - agh — > 

< Careful - don’t stand up too fast … 

Here , let’s just … let’s just go . > 

Without another word , your boyfriend helped you up , and the two of you walked away as quickly as you could , the distant sound of sirens getting more and more far with each step .

Some time later …

< Now … can you tell me what happened back there , s'il te plaît ? > 

There it was … the question you knew would come sooner or later . 

You looked down , feeling Bullfrog’s eyes on you while he patched you up .

< I … that guy , he said such awful stuff about you while being a creep and trying to hit on me …

Called you a monster …

I just - I couldn’t let him get away with it so I … punched him . > 

You felt his hand gently lifting up your chin as he stared at you .

< y/n … I appreciate you wanting to defend me , but you know I don’t want you to get hurt because of me . We’ve talked about this . > 

< So what , I was supposed to just stand by and let that asshole call you names ?

How is that fair ? > 

< Non , it’s not fair , but almost getting yourself killed to prevent that won’t help .

Did you even stop to think about what could’ve happened to you ? 

What if I didn’t make it in time to stop him ? What if you died tonight ?

My chéri , my partner , the one I love most in the entire world … gone . > 

He wiped away some of the blood on your face , and you could feel his hand shake slightly as he did … a sign of how troubled he was while imagining that scenario .

< … Je … je ne peux pas … I just can’t afford to lose you , y/n . You’re too important to me . > 

The dark alleyway in which you were hiding remained completely silent after that , until you sighed while placing a kiss on his palm .

< Bullfrog … that’s not gonna happen , I promise . 

You’re right , I … really didn’t think this through . I just … every time I hear someone talking about you like that I lose it … > 

Bullfrog’s expression softened , and as he placed his forehead against yours all the bad experiences of that night seemed to vanish …

< I know … you’re always looking out for me mon amour , and I love you so much for that ~ 

… just , maybe next time don’t punch anyone , alright ? > 

< Heh … I’ll try not to . > 

He chuckled in response , while slowly getting back on his feet .

< Now then … as soon as you feel ready we can try to head back home : I think it’s safe to say it’s been quite a long night for both of us . > 

< Yeah , that sounds like a plan . 

… plus I do need to thank you properly for saving my life don’t I ? ~ > 

< Oh , you know you don’t have to thank me , my dear … but it would be crazy to pass up that offer ~ > 

[crazyk-imagine]

Gym Crush

Pairing: Benny Miller x Gym crush!reader

Characters: Benny Miller, William "Ironhead" Miller, Francisco "Catfish" "Frankie" Morales, Santiago "Pope" Garcia, Gym Crush!reader, Samantha (reader's friend)

Warnings: Fluff, cursing (briefly), gym, gym things, reader is a trainer and trains with her friend, I'm sad, I know gym things because of work, Benny is like horny but also not, Frankie is a tired old man, Santi a big flirty hoe, I feel like Will feels like he has no personality :(

Word Count: 1,959

A/N: Not gonna lie, while writing this... I had a thought. This is the first part of the non-official series/ universe for the TF boys called (in my mind) "Gym World"

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

The boys, Will, Santiago, and Frankie have always known when something’s up with the baby of the bunch. It’s hard not to.

It consumes him until he barely has anything left to offer. That’s why they knew this was something different.

Instead of running to the woman (he deems to be the woman of his dreams) he, instead, runs from her. Or, in better words, avoids her entirely.

Ever since they came home after their last mission, they’ve been living their lives the way they want to… or at least Frankie and Santiago are.

Will is slowly working a little more on himself, not wanting to scare off anyone else in his life like he did with his ex-fiancée.

And now, Benny’s life mainly consists of working out, preparing for his fights while working at his annoying side job as a convenient store clerk.

Today was no different for him, train and then go out for a celebratory drink.

Usually with the way he acts when he sees you, none of the guys want to come with him anymore and it makes sense since he’ll either stare while you work out and he thinks you don’t notice (you do) or glance in your direction and check to see if you’re getting closer, wanting to try and ask you out (never happens).

Will shakes his head, “you’re shameless.”

Benny hangs from the pull bar, smirking at his brother. “Better to be shameless.”

“Then?” Frankie chimes, finding himself intrigued.

“Nothing, just better to be shameless.”

-

"He's back." You move your headphones over your ear to hear your friend, Samantha better. "What'd you say?"

She purses her lips, "you know exactly what I said."

You smirk, "no I don't."

She groans and throws her head back. "Why are you like this?"

"Like what?"

"Next is the rower."

Your cheeky attitude quickly falls from your face.

Samantha points at your fallen expression and starts laughing.

Benny hides his humor when he sees you stomping over towards the rower.

You pout, strapping your feet in, “I hate this!”

She smirks, “I know! But we’re gonna do,” Samantha pauses, thinking about how bad she should torture you. “Three reps for five minutes with wall sits as your forty second break.”

Your eyes widen at her words. “No.” You shake your head, “nuh uh. No way.” You start to remove the straps.

“I have four back-to-back clients in an hour, and I need to be able to crawl and not walk.”

-

He drops down from the bar, wiping himself dry with the towel he keeps nearby (curtesy of Will).

Frankie nods to the older Miller, “you go get him, I’ll deal with Benny.”

Will sighs and runs after Santiago who’s trying to flirt with some of the other girls around. They’re not going for it, and he doesn’t want to have to talk to another security guard because his friends an idiot.

The younger Miller takes a step forward only to be stopped. “Ben, your fights in three hours we need to go.”

“I-” he sighs, glancing back at you. “Yeah, alright. Let’s go.”

-

The next couple of days are quiet and you don't see much of “your” mystery guy, it makes you a little sad to be honest.

And then, there he is, as if he was reading your mind, he shows up with the other guys he’s almost always with.

"Guess who's back to cure you of your depression?"

You roll your eyes and shake your head, shoving Samantha away from you. “Stop it.”

She chuckles as you head out of the employee office, grabbing your phone on the way out. “I’m going to work out while I wait for my next client to arrive.”

She nods before heading out.

‘Maybe today’s the day.’ You can feel his eyes on you. You continue to think about what to do while stretching. You catch his gaze in the mirror and a decision’s been made.

Santiago smacks Frankie’s shoulder when he sees you coming closer. “What?”

The latter turns, “oh shit.”

“What’s going on with you two?” Will asks, glancing between the two of them, waiting for an answer.

Santiago points to the space in front of Benny.

He doesn’t see you there at first, focusing on finishing his last set before getting off the machine he was using. “Oh shi-”

You chuckle, crossing your arms. “Hey, there.”

“Hey.”

“I noticed you’ve been staring at me for a bit. You got something you want to say?”

If he were a cartoon, his eyes would be as wide as his head followed by a nosebleed. “It’s- it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?” You cross your arms. “I’m thinking you’re planning something hinky and quite frankly it worries me-”

His eyes widen even more. “No, no. I mean- I just- I didn’t mean to…” He pauses when he sees the way you try to hide your laughter. “Oh, you’re messing with me. Awesome.”

“Sorry, it was just too easy not to. But seriously, about the staring. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I- you’re really,” he gulps, “good.”

You raise a brow.

“I’m just saying, I don’t normally see people pushing themselves as hard as you do… or when your friend does.”

You chuckle, “that’s true. But it’s not really anything worth admiring, it’s your average trainer workout”

“Well, I can tell you that you do a damn good job. I’m impressed.”

“Well, consider me flattered. A handsome guy like yourself, commenting on my workouts, kind of makes a girl want to ask said guy for his number and make him her workout partner.”

He glances behind him before pointing at himself, earning a nod from you. “You’re serious?”

“I don’t joke about these kinds of things,” you pull yourself up on the pullup bar, something you’ve noticed he goes on more than anything here. “Which is something you’ll learn about, the more we talk.”

He’s never pulled his phone out of his pocket faster than he did right now. “You want to hand me your phone?”

“You’re gonna do this one handed?”

“No, I just wanted to try and impress you.” You jump down and smile at him.

He is more than willing to offer his phone to you. “I sent a text to my phone so now you have my number.”

“Great.”

“If I don’t hear from you before nine tonight, I can’t promise I’ll be as speedy with my responses.”

“So, I should text you now?” He jokes.

You shrug, “whatever you think is the smartest decision.”

The dopey smile on his face never leaves even after Santiago starts teasing him again. “Wow, I never thought you’d ever talk to her and look at you, you didn’t burst into a puddle of desperation.”

“Can I hit him?”

“No,” Will shakes his head, “you can’t, Ben. You know that.”

“She’s coming back.”

“What?” He whips around and almost bumps into you. “Hey, you’re back.”

“I am. I’m impatient and I want to go out with you.”

He owlishly blinks, trying to get his brain to move faster so he can understand. “Really?”

“Yeah. My friend would say I’m acting desperate and insane for asking the weird guy with a staring problem out.”

He scratches the back of his head, “you guys caught that, huh?”

You pinch your fingers together. “Little bit.”

“And you still want to go out with me?”

“Don’t read too much into it. Text me when you’re done here and when you’re free later.”

You turn around and walk away, leaving the Miller, Santiago, and Frankie speechless.

“I never thought I’d say this this,” Santiago pats the younger Miller’s shoulder. “Can you teach me how you- show me your ways, wise one.”

Benny shrugs him off, pushing him away from him. “Shut up.”

“Guess we’re done here?”

Frankie glances at Will. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s going home to shower and then call her so he can finally go out with her.”

Santiago shrugs, “I mean, I guess.”

“He’s right. If you two aren’t done, you’re on your own.” Benny throws his bag over his shoulder. “Come on, Will.”

-

You hit the call button, “Sammy!”

“What?”

“I did it.”

“I know you did; I was there.”

“I don’t know what outfit to pick you bitch.”

“How do you even know he’s going to call? Stupid question, I know. Moving on. Do you want to look slutty or a little conservative?”

“What makes me look better? Slutty or not slutty?”

“Where’s he taking you?”

“I don’t know.”

“How am I supposed to help you pick an outfit when you don’t even know where you’re going. I’m hanging up.”

“Wait- no.” You groan and are about to toss your phone down onto your bed when you get a text from Benny.

Hot Gym Guy

‘Wear something comfortable I don’t know if I already told you where I plan on taking you it's not gonna be some anything too crazy’ 4:36pm Sent Read

You smile holding your phone just a little closer to you.

Eye Candy

‘It’s like you knew what I was thinking’ 4:38pm Sent Read

‘Makes sense seeing as you’ve been watching me over the last few months every time you were in the gym’ 4:38pm Sent Read

He chuckles hoping this is going to be a good start to the date. He’s happy he kicked Santiago and Frankie out of the house now and thankfully Will had other plans.

Now he's debating calling you to invite you over or take you out to a restaurant followed by you coming over, not for anything that would be normal for his past self (as the other guys would say).

Hot Gym Guy

‘Would you rather do something fun and casual at my place or something new and different at a restaurant?’ 4:41pm Sent Read

You don’t think he has an ulterior motive because you know that he’s being genuine and asking you so you’re not uncomfortable.

Eye Candy

‘Are you a good cook because if not I think should go to a restaurant’ 4:43pm Sent Read

‘Not to offend you, I’d like to not have food poisoning tonight’ 4:44pm Sent Read

‘We should*’ 4:45pm Sent Read

Hot Gym Guy

‘I could whip up something decent and if it’s not up to your standards then we can either go out to a restaurant or have something delivered’ 4:46pm Sent Read

‘It’s up to you.’ 4:46pm Sent Read

You shake your head, even though Sammy really thought that he was creepy; turns out he’s really the sweetest guy you've ever talked to.

Eye Candy

‘Send me your address and I’ll tell you in person’ 4:51pm Sent Read

You knock on the door and wait.

The door opens less than a minute later. “Hey.”

You smile. “Hey.”

“Have you,” he clears his throat. “Have you made a decision?”

“I hope you're as good a cook as you are handsome.”

“Oh, baby. You have no idea.”

-

And let’s just say the next time you guys went to the gym (together, of course) everyone you knew was thanking all the gods that you two finally got together, until they realized that your guy's fawning was going to be ten million times worse because you’re together.

"Another day of him staring at her," Frankie comments, watching you two.

"How long are we going to see this?" Will asks, working on his bicep curls.

“I don't want to see him drool again; I'm going over towards the smoothie bar." Santiago walks away.

“I don’t know but I think we need to go back and grab Santi before he does something stupid,” the ex-pilot tells the older Miller.

“For fucks sake,” Will grumbles, putting the weights back in its place. “Let’s go.”

-

Taglist

@casa-boiardi

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 ao3

Eddie wakes again, and it’s a soft, gradual departure from sleep. When his eyelids eventually co-operate enough to stay open, he finds that Steve is already awake; the curtains are open, sunlight streaming across the bed.

“Hi,” Steve says, smiling, and it’s genuine—but Eddie’s getting familiar with knowing how to look closer. He’s sat up a little straighter again, a rigid line to his shoulders—and Eddie has a faint memory, suddenly, of Steve on the bench at a basketball game, waiting on tenterhooks to be called up.

“What’s up?” Eddie asks. When he swings his legs round, feet hitting the floor, he realises that the couch has been pulled back from Steve’s bed, frowns a little.

“Not much. They were just checking my lungs and stuff, ran some tests.”

Eddie can see the evidence of that now as Steve moves back the sheets slightly: his upper torso has a series of little marks, presumably where stickers and wires once were.

“They had to, uh, move you so they had enough room. Just kinda pushed the couch back,” Steve continues.

Eddie’s eyebrows raise, a mixture of disbelief and embarrassment. “I slept through that?”

Steve laughs. He sounds fond. “Oh, yeah. You were, like, solid gone, dude.”

“You should’ve—”

“Nope,” Steve interrupts firmly. “You needed the rest. Plus, um, I kinda demanded that they didn’t wake you up. Thought it was the least they could do.”

Oh.

“Well, m’sorry I missed that,” Eddie says, and through the sudden warmth in his chest, he adds, “You gave ‘em a Harrington glare, didn’t you?”

Steve laughs again, bemused. “A what?”

“Come on, man, don’t you know your own legends?”

“Legends.”

“You know, your evil eye.”

“Saying basically the same thing doesn’t actually explain anything, y’know.”

“Don’t be all coy now, you made it damn clear when you were pissed at someone.”

“Like when?”

Eddie points upwards accusingly, as if plucking the memory from the air. “English, last period. When that sub—”

“Oh, him. He was an ass.”

“I thought you were gonna turn him to stone. You gave some pretty good inspiration for a basilisk in one of my campaigns.”

Steve gives a baffled smile. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted.”

“Well—”

“Anyway, he was being a douchebag, making Rebecca read out loud; he knew she hated—”

“I kinda thought you liked her,” Eddie says thoughtfully. “You made me lose a bet on the prom couples.”

Steve snorts. “What is it with you and—never mind. No, I didn’t—it just wasn’t right, how he treated her. That was all.”

His gaze goes a bit distant as he speaks, his hand rubbing absent-mindedly at one of the more vivid marks, right on his breastbone.

“Hey, you uh—the tests went fine, right?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot I’d—yeah, aced them,” Steve says, and though his tone is flippant it’s also, thankfully, not sarcastic. He nods to the door, to the corridor outside. “Think they sorta want me to just go at this point.”

“They said that?” Eddie says, remarkably keeps his voice even.

“I mean, not exactly in words. They’re not like—you know, normal doctors or whatever. They’re involved in all this,” Steve gestures vaguely, “shit. S’not like it’s personal. Guess I’d want it to be all over, too, if I was in their shoes.”

Eddie just looks at him for a moment. He doesn’t know how to say you’re not a fucking inconvenience for people to be over and done with—knows that if he even gets close to something as bald as that, Steve will not really hear him.

So instead he says, “Is it too late for breakfast—shit, yeah. Uh, I can offer you the vending machine’s finest, à la carte?”

Steve grins. “Gimme anything with chocolate and you’d be my hero, man.”

-

It’s only when Eddie reaches the vending machine that he realises he doesn’t have any more change on him. He curses under his breath, wonders if he can yield any candy bars with a well-timed kick—but before he can even lift his foot, the machine whirs with no prompting, and deposits a pile of candy into the slot.

Nonplussed but not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Eddie bends down to take the haul, then spots a familiar reflection in the glass.

“Hey! What the—what’re you doing here?” he says, watching as El grins and wipes surreptitiously underneath her nose.

“Visiting,” she says simply, and that’s when Eddie notices Jim Hopper right behind her.

“Yeah, there’s some stuff we’ve gotta straighten out,” he says mildly.

It’s striking, to see him up close. There’s things Eddie never noticed in his bird’s eye view of him in the parking lot: how thin he is, his hair so closely shaven that it just serves to make his face look even more gaunt.

Hopper ruffles El’s hair. “Had to bring one of the kids with me or there’d be a damn mutiny.” But his hand lingers on El’s head, and Eddie can tell that it’s more than that—like he wants to keep her close.

Maybe it’s the fact that the guy’s clearly been through some shit that Eddie doesn’t stumble too badly over how Hopper is chatting to him like it’s normal.

“Uh, I can, uh, take you to Steve’s floor?”

“That’d be great, kid. Saves Joyce from murdering that poor girl on reception.”

Hopper whistles, raises his hand—and then Joyce Byers is hurrying over, and she clutches Eddie’s hand, squeezes like he’s a dear family friend.

“Oh, Eddie, sweetie, thank God we—this way? None of our calls were getting through, god, you won’t believe the trouble we—now if we can find a damn doctor who actually knows, I’ll—”

“Um,” Eddie says, voice a little strained—his mind stuck on both Eddie and sweetie. “I’ve not actually—they’re being pretty elusive.”

Hopper smiles grimly. “Oh, we’ll find them.”

-

They must be a magic duo, because they’ve been on Steve’s floor for barely a second before both Hopper and Joyce are slipping into an office room, jaws set. The door shuts.

One beat, and then Eddie hears the muffled, thrumming cadence of raised voices.

El shrugs. “They will be a while,” she declares. “Let’s go see Steve.”

-

Steve’s jaw drops when El walks through the door.

“You’re gonna catch flies, Harrington,” Eddie says—but he only says it because Steve looks, for just a moment, overwhelmed.

It works, gives Steve just enough time to rally.

“Shut up, Munson.” He rolls his eyes at El as if to say can you believe this guy?

She giggles, then goes over to the bed and wraps her arms around Steve in a gentle hug.

He pulls her closer, brings a hand up to stroke her hair, and his face falls a little, as if he’s had a sad realisation. Then he gives himself a shake and murmurs, heartfelt, “You’re goddamn amazing, El. Thank you. Thank you.”

El shakes her head, draws back. “I only got you a little way there. You brought yourself back, Steve.”

Steve gives a fragile smile—looks like he’s trying his hardest to ward off tears.

”And what am I, the furniture?” Eddie says.

Steve snorts, blinks, and his answering grin is strong. “Oh, I suppose you did something,” he sighs dramatically, and he nudges El. “Shall we give him that?”

“No,” El says dryly, and Steve cackles. “Come on, then, catch me up! You blow my house up yet?”

El smiles. “Not yet. I like your movies. I want to go to a thrift store, to try and find something like Liesl’s dress.”

“Oh, the pink one?” Steve asks, and when El nods he says warmly, “Yeah, that’ll suit you.”

While they talk, Eddie starts to place all the candy on the bedside table. It’s a carefully curated selection from the pile El had initiated—chocolate bars Eddie thinks Steve will like: 3 Musketeers and U-No Bars.

Steve catches his eye, mouths, “Hero,” and winks.

[lambertdiary]

Dalton is nervous about a presentation and you help him to be confident about his painting 

Dalton was standing in the middle of his room, a piece of paper on his hand as he nervously talked about one of his art pieces. 

Professor Armagan’s last assignment was something he dreaded the most: public speaking. They were supposed to paint something really important and personal to them and talk about it in front of everyone, explaining why they chose to paint that, why they chose those colours, techniques, materials, shapes and why they represent their painting.

“They’re not gonna get it” He said, letting out a loud sigh.

“They’re not supposed to” You stood up from his bed and walked towards him, placing both hands on his shoulders “This piece is personal for a reason, you can explain the reasoning behind your techniques without expecting them to understand the real meaning behind it”

“I know, but I don’t know if I can put it into words and make it make sense”

“You did” You took the piece of paper and read the first sentence which he used to explain what was in the canvas. You brought your eyebrows together, you hadn't seen the painting so you were having a hard time picturing it “Can I see it?”

He looked even more nervous all of the sudden “Uh- it’s not my best work”

“Come on, don’t say that. Everything you do is amazing”

He was unsure, but then decided to show you. He made his way to his desk and picked up the covered canvas, putting it on the easel as he uncovered it.

The painting was captivating. It was crafted with such bright colours instead of the dark ones he’d usually go for, using colour blocking that blends the abstract with some elements of realism. It felt like he poured his entire heart and soul into it, full of emotion and adoration directed towards whoever the painting was about. And you were 90% sure it was about you.

Dalton was incredibly talented, and it hurt you that he didn’t see that most of the time. He’d let things go to his head when he was feeling overwhelmed, luckily you were always there to remind him how talented he was and how brilliant his pieces were.

“Dalton, this is beautiful” You took as few steps closer to examine it better “This might be my favourite painting of yours”

“Thank you” He said with a shy tone.

“Your presentation will be perfect, just like your painting”

“I guess I’m just nervous, it’s gonna be hard to say all of this in front of people I have never talked to”

“Then think about me when you’re up there” You turned around to face him again “Picture us in your room, just the two of us and I promise it’s gonna be easier”

He thought about your words for a moment, and they seemed to relax him “I will”

[rainisawriter]

Hi can I request an h&l fic where fujio finally gets the motorbike he wants and has become quite the happy menace. Then maybe something happens and now needs the someone maybe from sannoh (maybe cobra or Yamato or both) to talk him to calming down. Dunno how the transition of that will be but maybe because Yamato fixes bikes?? Or something?

Thanks in advance 🤗😘

So, uh… I don't think this is what you had in mind when you sent this request I'm so sorry, I have no idea what happened lmao The fic just kinda… got a life of its own and took off, I guess. I totally understand if you hate this and feel free to send this request again if you'd like me to attempt sticking closer to what you wanted T-T)/

Genre: Fluff, friendship

Word Count: 5,853

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“Oi!” Kiyoshi slammed his hands down on the table, his eyes sparkling as he looked between me and Yasushi. “I want to go to Kyomin Café!”

“Kyomin?” the blonde’s brow furrowed as he glanced at you only to receive a shrug in reply. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a café,” you replied with a snicker. “Weren’t you listening?”

Yasushi rolled his eyes. “I know it’s a damn café, but what kind of café? I’ve never heard of it before.”

“It just opened up downtown,” grinned Kiyoshi as he sat down beside you, his body forcing you to scoot over so there was enough room.

“Downtown?” Yasushi and you exchanged a look and you frowned.

“That’s White Rascal’s territory. If they find a couple of Oya kids there, they’re not gonna be happy.”

The blonde scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “Please, we can take them easily!”

“You can try if you want,” you replied with a scoff. “But you can count me out. I have no interest in going against those guys.”

“Coward.”

“Call me what you want. I’m not a child like you, I won’t be goaded into it.”

“Hah?!”

Kiyoshi pouted at us. “Please? I really wanna go but I don’t wanna go alone!”

“Why do you wanna go there so bad, huh?” questioned Yasushi, looking suspiciously at his best friend.

His cheeks tinted pink as he lowered his gaze to the table.

The corner of your lips twitched upward as you realized the reason. “There’s a cute girl there, huh.”

His eyes widened, snapping over to you as his cheeks darkened. “How did you know?”

“You only have two interests - cute girls and fighting.”

Yasushi scoffed in disbelief. “No way in hell am I going to some cafe just so you can try and get a girlfriend. I have better things to do.”

“What?” you quirked a brow at him. “You mean glaring at Fujio’s group because you can’t beat them? Sounds like a bucket of laughs.”

“I don’t have to take this abuse from you!”

“Yet you’re not leaving.”

He glared at you for a moment, trying to intimidate you, but you just grinned at him, knowing you were right.

“Please!” cried Kiyoshi as he shot up from his seat, hands pressing together above his head as he bowed.

“Come on, Yasu,” you sent him a look. “This is clearly important to him and it’ll make him happy.”

He didn’t look convinced, narrowed eyes falling on the taller male.

“Besides, if we don’t do this we’ll have to deal with his sulking for the next week.”

Yasushi’s eye twitched at the thought, a scowl on his lips. “Fine.”

Kiyoshi’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Thank you!!” He threw his arms around the two of you, squishing you both to his body despite the table that separated you and the blonde.

“I already regret this,” muttered Yasushi.

You only sighed in agreement.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

Kyomin Café was located in the heart of White Rascal’s territory and it was packed to the brim with customers, all dressed fashionably in bright-colored clothing. The three of you stuck out like a sore thumb but no one paid you any mind aside from a few confused or dirty looks.

“This is so stupid,” muttered Yasushi as he glanced around the brightly lit interior. The walls were a faint pink, the floor marble white and the fluorescent lights bright enough to replace the sun itself.

The majority of the customers were female, so you could see why Kiyoshi wanted to come here. Unfortunately for him, he failed to consider why it was such a hotspot for girls.

“Welcome to Kyomin Café!” A tall, attractive young man appeared in front of you, a bright smile on his face and little hearts drawn on his right cheek. The name tag on his chest read Kiku. If he was put off by the appearance of you three, he didn’t show it at all. “Is it just the three of you?”

Yasushi was glaring at him, clearly put off by his friendly demeanor.

Kiyoshi was staring at him with his mouth open as he fought between feeling annoyed and envious.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“I’ve got the perfect table for you! Please follow me.” He lead us to a table near the back of the cafe. It was square and painted white, pushed against the wall with three chairs surrounding it. “I’ll give you a moment to browse the menu. Back in a jiff!”

Yasushi scowled at his back. “I hate him.”

“You hate everyone, that’s not saying much,” you commented, picking up the brightly colored menu. It was full of sweets in pastel colors with cute names you wouldn’t be caught dead saying aloud.

Kiyoshi whimpered, lowering his head. “How can I compete with that?!”

“You can’t,” scoffed Yasushi, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest.

You kicked him hard under the table, glaring at him before motioning toward the defeated male.

He frowned, his hard demeanor falling the tiniest bit. He leaned forward, slapping Kiyoshi on the shoulder. “Hey, if they don’t choose you, then they’re dumbasses. So what if you’re not a pretty boy like that loser? Can he take a knife to the gut and keep fighting? No, he can’t! He would drop to the ground and cry like the loser he is.”

“You’re right…” He slowly lifted his head, his confidence slowly returning to him. “I’m twice the man he is!”

“Exactly!”

The girls sitting at the next table looked at the two weirdly before getting up and moving to a different table. You briefly wondered how long it would take before the three of you got banned from the cafe.

You rested your cheek against your hand, glancing to your left, eyes locking with one of the servers. Time seemed to freeze as the two of you stared at each other and it took a moment for recognition to flash through your mind.

It was Fujio. His usually slicked-back hair now sat against his forehead in waves, earrings dangling from his ears. He wore the cafe's uniform and tiny stars had been drawn onto the skin beneath his left eye.

His eyes widened in shock, panic clearly dancing within them. He stumbled back, nearly running into the guy who had seated you before he darted into the backroom. You had no idea why he was here but something told you he didn't want anyone at Oya to find out.

You glanced at your two best friends and frowned. You knew better than anyone that, if they found out, they would tease him mercilessly. The boys at Oya loved to gossip more than little old ladies enjoying Sunday tea so it would only be a matter of minutes before the whole of Oya knew.

"This shit looks gross," you stated, scowling at the menu. "My stomach already hurts. No way can I eat this sugary shit. Can we go now?"

"Hah?" Yasushi scowled at you. "You're the one who insisted that we come here for Kiyoshi. Now you wanna leave?"

You glanced around the room before leaning forward, lowering your voice. "My stomach really hurts, okay? You know how I get around big crowds.”

Kiyoshi frowned, concern written on his face as he leaned toward you. “Why is your stomach hurting? Are you sick?”

You shrugged a shoulder, looking at him pleadingly. “I don’t know, maybe. I think the ramen I ate this morning might have been expired.”

Yasushi scowled at this. “I just told you to throw that shit away!”

“I forgot.”

“You’re a hopeless idiot,” he huffed, standing up. “Let’s get out of here.”

Kiyoshi nodded, standing up and waiting for you to do the same. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“No, it’s not that bad. Thanks, though.”

“Where are you going?” Kiku approached us with a frown, head tilted to the side. “You haven’t even ordered yet. Is the menu not to your liking?”

“Piss off,” Yasushi huffed, glaring at the male as he walked past, making sure to bump his shoulder against Kiku’s. Kiyoshi also sent him a glare.

You glanced over your shoulder, locking eyes with Fujio again as he peered his head around the door. He was watching you nervously, his bottom lip between his teeth. He was clearly waiting for you to rat him out.

“Excuse me?” Kiku called out wearily, looking between you and the raven-haired male. “Do you know Hanaoka-san?”

“Nope,” you replied simply before turning back around and leaving the café. The boys were waiting for you, leaving an empty spot between them so they could walk on either side of you.

“We’re never doing that shit again,” huffed Yasushi. “What a waste.”

Kiyoshi’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry…”

You patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too much, Kiyo. You’ll find a girlfriend one day.”

“I hope you’re right…”

“I’m always right.”

Yasushi snorted loudly, sending you a disbelieving look. “Like hell you are!”

You returned it with a blank look. “You should really stop being such a buzzkill, Yasu.”

“I am not a buzzkill! Right, Kiyoshi?”

Kiyoshi paused, looking between the two of you. His lips parted but, instead of answering, he turned on his heel and took off down the street.

“Yah! Get back here!” Yasushi cried, taking off after him.

You chuckled, shaking your head.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

“I’m hungry,” Yasushi complained, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling of the classroom.

“That sounds like a you problem,” you commented, not looking up from your phone.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Oi, go with me to the vending machines.”

“Are you paying?”

He rolled his eyes as he stood up, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Don’t I always?”

You followed him out into the hall, dodging students as they rushed past. It had been a few days since you saw Fujio at the café and you had the feeling he was avoiding you. Not that it mattered much since you guys weren’t friends, but you had to admit that you were curious. 

Was he having money problems? Did he get roped into it by someone else? The only one you knew who could work there was Tsukasa, but you doubted he would be willing to take the job. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Tsukasa was walking down the hall toward you, hands in his pockets. His eyes met yours for a moment before he looked away. You stepped to the side to walk past him but he went out of his way to bump his shoulder against yours. You realized why he had done so when he pressed a piece of paper into your hand.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled charmingly.

Yasushi scowled at him. “Watch where the hell you’re going, Takajo!”

“Right, right. Sorry,” he apologized again, his eyes flickering to your hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied, sticking your hand into your pocket so Yasushi wouldn’t see the note.

“You should have punched him,” complained the blonde.

“It was an accident, keep your panties on.”

“I do not wear panties.”

“I hear they’re super comfortable for guys.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“You’d be doing me a favor.”

The two of you stared each other down for a moment before grinning and cracking up.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom,” you told him and he nodded.

“What do you want from the machine?”

“The usual.”

“Sure.”

You headed in the direction of the bathroom but kept walking when you reached it, glancing over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following you. You waited until you found an empty classroom before tugging the note from your pocket and reading it over.

'Meet me behind the school in 20 - H. F'

You hummed in interest, taking note of how pretty his handwriting was. Quite strange for a delinquent, but it somehow suited him. You considered going back to Yasushi and making up some lie about needing to go somewhere only to decide that it was easier just to go to the meeting. You could figure something out to tell him later.

Fujio was pacing under the large oak tree out back, his hand on his chin.

“Yo,” you called out, holding up the note when he looked over at you. “What’s up?”

He frowned at you, glancing at the note. “You didn’t tell Yasushi or Kiyoshi.”

“Did you want me to?” you inquired, quirking a brow.

“No!” he replied quickly. “No, I - I just figured you would."

"Not the first time you've been wrong, Hanaoka," you chuckled, trying to cut through some of the tension. It seemed to work as he grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I am curious, though. Why are you working there?"

His eyes lightened up at this and he dug into his pocket to pull out a page ripped from a magazine. "Look!"

You took it from him curiously, eyes scanning the page. It was for a motorbike, the price set at *. "Ho~? Are you planning to go the way of Murayama-san?"

"Of course not!" His brow furrowed and he folded his arms over his chest. "I just really want one. Have you seen Sannoh riding around town? They look so cool! I bet it's really freeing, too, like you're flying!"

You watched him closely as he spoke, taking in the cheerful and excited look on his face. He seemed so happy, so carefree, unburdened by the weight of being an Oya leader. You had to admit, it was a good look on him.

"What?" He pouted, shifting nervously under your watchful gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I think it's great that you have something you want and you're working hard for it," you told him honestly, handing the page back. "I hope you get it, Hanaoka."

"Thank you," he smiled softly before adding as an afterthought. "For everything."

"Sure. You don't have to worry, I won't tell anyone about your job. Later." You lifted your hand in a half wave before turning and heading back into the school. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you didn't have to check the ID to know who it was.

"Yah!" Yasushi's voice was so loud on the other end that you had to pull the phone away from your ear. "Where the hell did you go? Did I buy this shit for my own health, huh?"

"Keep your panties on, I'm on my way."

"I told you I don't - no, screw you! I'm giving your snacks to Kiyoshi!"

"Don't you dare -" But he had already hung up the phone. "Motherfucker," You muttered, rushing down the hall.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

You stifled a yawn as you stepped into the café, the bright lights making you wince. It was dark outside but with all of the neon lights of the downtown district, it was as if the sun was still out. Even so, they couldn't compare to the overpowering fluorescents of the café. You couldn't help but feel as if it was completely ridiculous to have lights that bright.

Surely someone had to have complained, right? You glanced around at the customers, all of them young girls with stars in their eyes as they undressed the waiters with their hungry gazes. It made you shiver in disgust.

"Oh, you're back!"

Your gaze shifted to Kiku who smiled warmly at you. "Table for one."

"Your friends aren't with you?" he inquired curiously, glancing behind you.

"Wasn't really their kinda scene."

"Oh, I see," he giggled. "Follow me!"

Kiku led you to the same table you had been at a few days ago, promising to return soon. You still felt sick looking at the menu of pure sugar, but the iced hot chocolate looked appetizing. You made a mental note to ask if it was as sweet as everything else.

While waiting for the waiter to return, your eyes scanned the café but there was no sign of Fujio. You were sure he had been working tonight, but it was more of a hunch than hard fact.

Kiku returned a moment later. "Do you know what -"

"Is Hanaoka working tonight?" you interrupted him, not sparing him a glance. 

"He's supposed to be, but he's running late," pouted the male, his hand on his hip. "I was supposed to get off five minutes ago."

You hummed thoughtfully, wondering if he had gotten caught up in a fight or something on his way. You briefly worried that the White Rascals had found him and, for some reason, that made your heart clench up anxiously. It was a feeling you had only ever experienced when Yasu or Kiyo were in danger. Not just a fight, but genuine danger.

"I thought you said you didn't know -"

Fujio came rushing into the café, breathing heavily and his clothes askew. His eyes fell on Kiku and he hurried over, bowing with his hands pressed together in front of him.

"I'm so sorry, Kiku-san! I had a… family issue to deal with."

Kiku sighed dramatically, inspecting the black polish on his nails. "You're lucky the customers love you so much. In fact, this one was just asking about you."

Fujio's eyes fell on you before widening in surprise, his lips parted.

Kiku patted him on the shoulder. "Go get yourself together and get clocked in, yeah? My feet are killing me."

"Yes, sir!" He sent you one last look before rushing into the back.

"Do you mind waiting?" inquired Kiku with a kind smile. "If you do, I can take your order before clocking out."

"I've got nowhere to be," you replied.

"Awesome. I'll let Hanaoka-san know to come see you first," he winked before turning and leaving.

You turned your attention to the window beside you. There was a small alleyway there with a brick wall on the other side, nothing too interesting. There was a line of windows stretching across the cafe wall, though, so you could see people walking past on the street, as well as the neon lights flashing across the buildings.

Thunder rumbled softly overhead, sending the people scattering inside, not wanting to be caught in the rain in their party outfits. 

"Hey."

You glanced over as Fujio squatted down beside the table, a pad and pen in hand. "Late for work, huh? You're never gonna get your bike that way."

He pouted, folding his arms on the table. "It wasn't my fault! Those guys jumped me, I had to fight back."

You scanned his face for any sign of injury but saw none.

He realized this and gently patted his right side, only to wince in pain. "I made sure they didn't get my face. I'm pretty sure I'd get fired if I showed up with a busted lip."

"Not necessarily. Girls like them," you motioned around you with your hand. "They live for drama. All you have to do is tell them someone robbed you and they'll eat it up. Might even give you a bigger tip."

"I don't want to lie to them."

You clicked your tongue, leaning back in your chair. "Sometimes this world doesn't deserve honesty."

"I'd rather live in a world that does," he admitted, a soft smile on his face.

You frowned at this, eyes narrowed. You wanted to call him a fool, to tell him that he was being naïve, but you couldn't bring yourself to say it. Fujio was an honest guy through and through. He didn't hold back his intentions or lie about what he wanted, even if it would benefit him. 

That kind of person can be easy to take advantage of, to manipulate, and you didn't want that to happen to him. For whatever reason, you now felt protective over him. It was the same way you felt about Yasu and Kiyo yet… it was also different in a way you couldn't put your finger on.

"So," he broke the tense silence, clearing his throat. "What are you doing here?"

You hummed, tapping your fingers on the menu. "Well, I didn't get to try anything the last time I was here. I kept thinking about the iced hot chocolate."

"Oh, that's one of our more popular items!" He grinned. "Everyone says it's really good."

"Have you tried it?"

"I have and I really like it. Do you want one?"

"How sweet is it?" 

"I can make it as sweet as you want. Most people request the sweetest version but I tried it and it was gross," his nose wrinkled cutesy and you chuckled.

"Just lightly sweet, please."

"Of course!" He scribbled it down on his notepad before glancing up at you. "Anything else?"

"I'll see after I finish my drink."

"Okay, I'll have it out to you soon." Fujio stood up with a smile, turning to give your order to the guy making the drinks but he barely made it two steps before his name was being called.

"Hana-kun~!" A short girl with wavy blonde hair waved frantically at him, nearly bouncing in her seat when he turned to look at her. She pouted her glossy lips, batting her eyelashes. "I missed you!"

He smiled charmingly at her, no doubt having learned it from Tsukasa. "I'll be with you in a moment, Minnie."

As soon as he disappeared into the back, her eyes fell on you, narrowed in annoyance. She sized you up before scoffing, a smirk sliding onto her lips as she twirled a piece of hair around her finger. She clearly didn't think much of you but you didn't really care either way. You weren't here to please this random chick you didn't even know.

Her face lit up when he stepped into the room again, but it fell when he ignored her and came straight to you, carrying the drink you ordered.

"I made sure it's not too sweet for you. Go on, taste it." He watched you closely as you sipped the drink. "Well? I can have it remade if it's too much."

"It's perfect. Thanks, Hanaoka."

A grin slid across his face, rubbing the back of his neck. "Glad you like it. I'll leave you to it, then."

You hummed as he finally gave Minnie the attention she was seeking. She kept glancing over at you as if to rub it in your face, but you were paying her no mind, looking down at your phone. Yasushi had messaged in the group chat, asking where you were since he had gone to your house and couldn't find you.

-> Yasubaka: Oi, were u kidnapped or sumthin?

-> Kiyochan: Kisnapped?!

-> Kiyochan: kidnapped*

-> Yasubaka: pft, I feel sorry for the kidnappers

-> Yasubaka: they got no idea what theyre in for

-> Yasubaka: seriously where tf are u??

You scoffed at the two idiots but couldn't help smiling at their concern. No matter how much you annoyed each other, you were still family at the end of the day. You quickly messaged back saying you had gone on vacation before putting your phone on silent and slipping it back into your pocket. Fujio was running around the cafe, taking orders and entertaining the girls drooling over him. He continued to check on you, but you chose not to order anything else.

After an hour of consideration, you had made your choice.

You pulled out a wad of cash from your pocket, counting out how much was needed for the bill before adding a $20 tip. You glanced at Fujio, catching his eye. He was in the middle of taking someone's order so he couldn't come over, but that was fine. You knew he was gonna fight against the over-tipping and you were too tired to deal with it. You motioned toward the cash and he nodded before returning his attention to the customers.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

"What the hell?!" Fujio slapped his hand on your desk, eyes burning as they bore into your own.

Yasushi and Kiyoshi were, thankfully, not in the classroom, but several of their followers were. They knew of Fujio's strength, though, and hesitated to attack him. They just stared at him with wide eyes and open mouths, trying to decide the best course of action.

You quirked a brow at him. "Hello to you, too."

Fujio glanced at the other students before lowering his voice. "We need to talk!"

"No."

"No?"

"I know what you wanna talk about and I'm not interested."

"It's too much!"

"Don't care." You sent him a blank look before getting up and leaving the room, the raven-haired male hot on your heels.

"Take it back." Fujio grabbed your wrist, trying to stuff the bill into your hand but you clenched it into a fist, giving him a grin.

"I refuse."

"Why are you being so difficult?" he pouted.

"Why are you? Just take it, Hanaoka."

He bit his lip, seeming torn. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"A hundred percent sure?"

"Yes."

"A hundred million -"

"I'm going to punch you."

A smile slid onto his lips, his grip loosening around your wrist but not leaving it. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Seriously, don't," you warned him, but your smile betrayed you.

"I won't if you won't," he said softly, his eyes once again boring into your own. They were softer this time, filled with something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Deal," you replied softly, unable to tear your gaze from his. Were his eyes always that pretty?

"Senpai, is everything alright?"

You quickly stepped away, realizing just how close the two of you had been. Clearing your throat, you looked at the first year that followed YasuKiyo. "Yeah, it's fine. Come on, let's go."

You could feel Fujio's eyes on your back as you walked away, but you couldn't bring yourself to look at him.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

Over the next few months, you actively visited the café just to help Fujio with his bike fund. To be honest, the place wasn't terrible but you certainly regretted giving their food a try. As expected, it was full of sugar and made your stomach turn. How anyone could eat that drivel, you'd never know.

He continued to resist the extra tip each time but finally gave in when he realized you weren't planning on changing your mind anytime soon. Part of you was thankful for this while another part missed arguing with him about accepting it. With each visit, you felt yourself growing more attached to the male and it was starting to scare you.

Yasushi and Kiyoshi had also noticed the change in your demeanor, along with the constant disappearance acts you kept pulling. They knew something was up and, being the idiot brothers they were, they wouldn't drop the subject. Every time they saw you, they were demanding answers or glaring at you in a poor attempt to break you. Having to deal with them and the fact that you had no idea how you felt about Fujio now was annoying as hell.

Finally, you just started avoiding everyone just to get some peace and quiet.

There was a spot on the opposite side of the roof from where Fujio's crew hung out that no one used. Probably because the floor was super weak there and, honestly, was a death trap in the making. It was peaceful, though, so you found yourself hiding up there more times than not.

"Is that Fujio?"

"No way!"

Curious, you peered over the side of the roof, seeing the raven-haired male driving down the street on a shiny new bike. His smile was brighter than the fucking sun and it was obvious that he was pretty damn happy about finally getting his bike. He hopped off it as soon as he was in front of the school, showing it off to anyone who would look.

You snorted when one of the boys tried to touch it only to get a foot in the face and a scolding look from Fujio.

Seeing how happy he was to finally have the bike he had wanted for so long brought a smile to your face, but it also left a sour taste in your mouth. He didn't need you anymore, you realized. He was probably going to quit his job at the café since he had what he wanted.

It shouldn't have bothered you, but it did. It bothered you a lot, more than you were willing to admit out loud.

You rolled onto your back, hands behind your head as you stared up at the fluffy white clouds above you. 'I should be happy. Now I don't have to visit that damn café anymore. Yasu and Kiyo will finally get off my back, too. Not to mention how happy Hanaoka is. This is a good thing...'

You groaned, rolling onto your side and closing your eyes. "A good thing, huh..."

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

You stifled a yawn as you walked down the street, heading home after a long day of fighting. For some reason, everyone and their grandma seemed to want to fight YasuKiyo and, by association, you. It was something you had grown used to after so many years, but it felt as if everyone came out of the trenches today.

Someone yelled your name from behind and you held back a groan, turning to see who wanted to fight you now. To your surprise, it was Tsukasa and Fujio. You said nothing as they approached, quirking a brow at the blonde as he was the one who had called for you.

"We need your help."

"My help?" you echoed, scratching your cheek. "What for?"

Tsukasa nudged the ravenette in the ribs and you finally turned your gaze to him. The sadness in his eyes made your heart clench up painfully, anxiety coursing through your system. He looked as if he wanted to cry, an expression you had never once seen on the male.

He took a step toward you, his lips trembling as he searched for the right words. "There was an accident..."

Tsukasa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you have to be so dramatic? They're going to get the wrong idea if you say it like that."

"Oh," he frowned at his best friend before looking back at you. "My bike, she... she was hurt. Badly."

The blonde folded his arms over his chest. "A couple of the part-timers got ahold of the truck Seki used to drive and they didn't see his bike there."

"She didn't stand a chance!" Fujio cried, grabbing you by the shoulders. "Tsukasa said you could help. Is that true?!"

"Ah, well... I can't help -"

His head fell, grip tightening on your shoulders.

"- but I know someone who can."

His head shot up, hope in his watery eyes. "Really?!"

"We gotta go to Sannoh territory, though."

"I have to get back to Oya," said Tsukasa with a sigh. "They made a real mess with that damn truck. Can I leave him in your hands?"

"Yeah, I got him."

"Thank you," he smiled charmingly at you before giving Fujio a stern look. "Behave and don't cause them any problems. No fighting with Sannoh, got it?"

"You have no faith in me, Tsukasa," pouted Fujio.

"I wonder why..."

After parting ways with the blonde, you led Fujio toward Sannoh's territory, feeling nervous for a host of reasons. Despite Cobra and Murayama having long since squashed their beef, they were still wary of Oya. Probably more so now that Murayama had left. They were also super protective of you because of your cousin. By all accounts, it was a bad idea to bring Fujio here yet you didn't hesitate.

Fujio needed you and you loved it.

The metal door to Asahina garage was up and your cousin sitting inside eating some onigiri. There was a broken down bike off to the side and he had no doubt been working on it before taking a break.

Yamato glanced up when he heard you enter, his eyes widening when he realized it was you. He jumped up, throwing his arms around you and squeezing the life from your bones. "Oi, where the hell have you been, huh? I was beginning to think you forgot about your favorite cousin!"

"You're my only cousin," you grunted in annoyance, trying to shove the hulk of a man off of you. "And I was here like two weeks ago."

"To see Cobra!"

"And? Cobra is less annoying."

"Thank you."

You glanced at the stairs, seeing Cobra descending them with a bottle of water in his hand and a smile on his face. "You're here, too?"

"Don't sound too excited," he joked, but a serious expression came to his face when he spied the ravenette lingering behind you. "Who is he?"

Before you could say a thing, Fujio bowed at the hip and introduced himself with vigor. "Hanaoka Fujio!"

"He's my friend," you stressed, sending the two males a stern look. "And he needs help."

"We're not a charity case," scoffed Yamato, eyes narrowed at the boy.

"He needs his bike fixed," you explained, taking note of how your cousin's eyes lit up at the mention. "I'll pay for it if that'll make you happy."

"No!" chorused Yamato and Fujio, sending you a scowl.

You held your hands up in surrender, fighting back your smile. "You'll help, then?"

Yamato seemed to consider this for a moment before sighing. "Fine. Bring it to me and I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you so much!" cried Fujio, bowing to them again. His eyes weren't quite as dull now, regaining some of their usual happy shimmer.

"I'm not making any promises," muttered Yamato before returning to his snack.

You patted the ravenette on the arm before turning to leave the garage.

He walked at your side, a pep in his step. "Thank you for this. It really means a lot."

You hummed. "Don't think you're not paying me back for this."

A smile tugged at his lips and he nodded. "Of course! Whatever you want."

The words made you pause, brow furrowed at him. He made it a few more steps before realizing you had stopped. He glanced at you, tilting his head to the side. "What's wrong?"

"Do you mean it?" you questioned softly. "Anything I want?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

You closed the distance, leaning closer until your face was just inches from his own. You knew exactly what you wanted.

Fujio swallowed hard, his cheeks tinting pink. "W-What are you -"

You leaned toward his ear. "You're buying me lunch for a month." And then you pulled back, walking away as if nothing happened.

Fujio's lips parted, face burning as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

You grinned back at him. "Oi, you comin' or what?"

He tried to get a hold of himself, ignoring his racing heart as he rushed to catch up with you.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

High&Low Masterlist.

WIPs.

[wannaseewhatshangin]

HEY could you do a dally x reader were the reader is a soc and the gang is a little skeptical of dally dating a soc they still excepted the but they’re just a little skeptical about it. Anyway, the reader invites all of them to a party on the last day of summer, and they all go, and the soc’s try to start an argument about how they don’t belong here and the reader stands up for the gang and it to changes there opinion about the reader and dally’s like in ’awe’ and thanking the reader for sticking up for the gang?

If you can’t the ignore this request hope you have a good day/night :)🤍

Omg yesssss! I was just about to go tf to sleep but I just couldn’t ignore this request.

“Maybe she’s usin em .” Steve said, out of the blue as him and Soda worked on a new car that came in.

Soda stopped and looked at him.

“Who, y/n?” He asked, not completely surprised but not totally convinced.

Steve nodded as he put some parts together.

“I mean, why else would a Soc want dally? No offense to dally but, I never woulda though that he actually woulda taken a liking towards her.”

“I guess your right.”

And what a coincidence that the Curtis gang and two-bit were having the exact same conversation.

“Hey, how do y’all feel about Y/n?” Two-bit asked the Curtis brothers.

Darry just shrugged.

“Shoot, ain’t my kid, ain’t my problem. I mean, I care about Dally but if he wants to let a soc break his heart, ima let him.” Darry stated, basically giving out his opinion.

“I don’t know, I haven’t really talked to er. I’ve seen er before but..you know.” Pony said, shifting his position on the couch, returning back to his copy of “Gone With The Wind”

Johnny sat up and snuffed out his cigarette.

“I don’t mind her.”

“What about you, Two?” Pony asked his sideburned buddy.

“I mean, I don’t know. I think she’s just gonna hurt Dally. Hey! You know, what if she just wants something?”

That all agreed.

Just then, Dallas walked through the door.

“Hey guys.” He said, as he shut the door behind him.

“My girl wants y’all to come to her party tonight, she wants to meet y’all. And she’s super excited.”

The gang didn’t know what to think.

They felt off.

“I would love to.” Darry replied.

Dallas turned to the rest.

“What about y’all? Y’all down?”

The gang nodded.

They really wanted to meet the girl that had Dallas Winston wrapped around her finger.

You were a nervous wreck.

What if your hair looked crazy, you thought as you brushed your hair for the 50th time.

You put lights up and set out a speaker with the best music you had.

You didn’t want to be a bother.

You just wanted to meet his friends.

You wanted to make a good first impression.

You heard the doorbell ring.

You ran down and let some people in, telling them where the food and drinks were.

You took coats and hung them up.

You gave everybody bracelets, which you handmade.

Dallas opened the door, letting himself in.

“You look nice, babe.” He said, giving you a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, Dally. What did they say?” You asked nervously.

“Oh, yeah they’re comin.” He said

You were scared.

You ran around, trying to make everything look absolutely perfect.

You straightened up pictures.

You fixed your hair constantly.

You changed shoes about a hundred times.

You settled on a pair of rose gold heels.

“Babe, you look great, don’t get so nervous.” Dallas reassured you.

You calmed down and later on the doorbell rang.

You got pale.

The closer you got to the door, the clamier your hands got.

You opened the door to see what looked like greasers.

They must be Dally’s friends.

“Hello everybody. I’m Y/n- oh uh. I made bracelets for everyone.” You said, passing out the bracelets.

“A pleasure to meet you.” Darry said, shaking your hand.

You could tell he was the dad of the group.

“Same to you.” You replied.

By the time you got to two-bit you were laughing.

You don’t know what happened.

When you and two-bit looked at each other you both were laughing your asses off.

You invited them inside.

“The food is over there. And over there is the couch and the tv.” You said, pointing.

Dallas just watched you in the corner.

Then a group of your “friends” walked up to you.

“Those don’t look like Socs.” Your friend, Mary sneered.

You looked at her, shocked at her harsh words.

But you stayed quiet.

The harassing continued.

Bobby, her boyfriend looked at the gang and laughed.

“They don’t belong here. They are dirty. They don’t belong with us socs.”

You looked him right in the eyes, absolutely fuming.

“Look here, Bobby. You have no right to treat such lovely people like that!” You yelled, catching everyone’s attention, even the gang.

“They are human beings too! You guys are cruel! And I would rather be a greaser than what you guys call “upper class” because your attitude is just disrespectful and disgusting.”

You were getting angrier by the second.

“You guys are pigs! And if anything, I need some thrill in my life, because what you guys provide is nothing but..but bullshit!” You screamed. You never cursed that much.

Especially not in front of so many people.

You stepped closer to Bobby.

“Oh and, Mary. Did I tell you about Sophie?” You said with a smirk.

She looked at her boyfriend.

“Who is that?” She asked him.

“Nobody-“

You cut him off

“His side broad. Yeah. I told. Because people like you don’t deserve my respect.”

The gang was standing by Dallas, absolutely shocked.

Dallas, was in awe.

“That’s my girl.” He thought to himself.

“So if you don’t mind, get the hell out!!” You were fuming, opened the door wide open for them, Bobby and Mary arguing on the way out.

This probably ruined your chances of being friends with his family.

Later on the party was over.

You told people goodbye as they walked out, saying they had a great time.

When everyone was gone, you felt strong arms pick you up and swing you in a circle.

But it wasn’t Dallas.

It was Two-bit.

“Thank you! You have no idea how long I’ve hated him!” He said, setting you down.

You laughed.

“No problem.”

“Honestly, we thought you were gonna be just like every other soc in this town. But what you showed me tonight missy, is something I’ll never forget, and you are apart of us now.” Darry said, giving you a hug.

“She ain’t no soc!” Steve said, making the gang laugh.

Everyone else left the party and you sat in the couch.

You felt arms around you.

“Thank you so much, doll.”

You were a bit confused.

“What for?” You questioned.

“For sticking up for my friends.”

You looked at him shocked.

“Well they shouldn’t treat y’all like that. That’s just insan-“ you were cut off by a kiss.

It was soft.

“I love you.” He said as he pulled away.

You both laid on the couch and watched movies all night.

Oh boy, did you love your man.

[cheesemonky]

Chapter 2: Not Again!

Pairing: bsf!hyunjin x reader (college au)

Series Masterlist

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: Boys come and go, but you don't know how long this has been going on. You date, you break up and then you're running back to your best friend for support. Little do you know, it's more than support he wants to give.

You could have, you would have, and you should have stopped it there. But in truth, you knew that it wasn’t gonna happen…

“You’re kidding! He did not say that…”

“He did, and guess what? He told me to go cry somewhere else..!”

“The audacity! Though, why would you give him your money?!”

“I don’t know, I panicked!”

Hyunjin could only sigh at his friend’s words. Who gives their ex money while they’re breaking up? He really couldn’t keep up with your antics these days. But hey, he chose this life with you. Yeah. A life with you. Sitting up straight on the couch, he picked up your phone and tossed it onto your lap.

“We gotta get him out of your life as soon as possible. Delete his contact.”

“Already done.”

“Oh. Then… unfollow all his social media accounts.” “Done that too.” “Uh, delete his Netflix profile..? “Man, you think I’m an amateur at this? Are you forgetting how many times I’ve been broken up with?”

A dry chuckle left Hyunjin’s throat while you put your phone down again. You were right, you had been through this exact scene many times before. More times than either of you would have liked. If you could only see that the one you needed was right in front of you all along.

“So… what now? Wanna have a night out, or you gonna stay the night?” He asks, shoving a handful of trail mix into his mouth and pouring himself another shot of soju. Anytime there’s drama, there’s food and drinks.

“Yeah, I think we’re too drunk to go out now, so might as well stay, right?” You replied and he nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Even if you weren’t his, he wanted to have you with him for the night. He loved it when you stayed over, when you had to use his pyjamas because you didn’t bring your own, when you shuffled closer to his side of the bed because you were cold. He didn’t even mind it when you took up all the blankets because he thought you looked oh, so sweet all wrapped up like that.

“Let’s watch a movie first though. It’s only, what, 9:00? I’m not tired yet anyways.”

“Sure, I’m down. But since you’re staying over, I’m choosing the movie.”

“Ugh, I swear if you choose something like Frozen…”

Laughing softly, Hyunjin got up from the comfort of the couch and grabbed the remote, this time sitting right by your side. He pushed you forward, sliding into the space behind you and the cushion before laying your head against the warmth of his chest.

“Fineee. How does The Great Gatsby sound?”

“That’s… actually a good choice. Who knew you were capable of making reasonable decisions?”

He playfully slapped your arm with a pout which only grew as you started to laugh. A hand snaked to your stomach, poking and tickling around your body. Hyunjin laughed as he leaned in to continue tickling you. He couldn't help but feel giddy with anticipation. Perhaps tonight would be the night. Perhaps this was it. Maybe he could make it happen. Perhaps...

Suddenly, your phone was vibrating on the side table. He picked it up out of curiosity and handed it to you as both of you sat up. Hyunjin couldn’t help but notice your face light up as you checked your phone, and immediately felt a twinge of jealousy. Whose text could be that important, he wondered.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. You nodded and turned back to your phone as you replied, “Yeah, just got a text from a friend.”

Hyunjin felt a tingle of irritation at the mention of this ‘friend’. Why were they texting you at this time of night? Surely what they had to say wasn’t that important. Hyunjin sighed and rested his hand back on your waist as he looked over your shoulder. You seemed too focused on your phone to pay him any mind. As the minutes rolled by and your conversation continued, his jealousy grew. Could this friend really be that important? Hyunjin knew he shouldn't let his jealousy get the best of him, but he just couldn't help it.

"Hey... who's your friend?" he finally asked, leaning over to see.

“Hm? Oh, no one, just a guy in my biology class.”

A guy, you say?

“You literally got broken up with today, and you’re already flirting with someone else?”

“Oh hush, it’s not like that. He was just asking to set up a study session tomorrow, he needs some help with the course content.” 

Hyunjin felt a surge of relief, but that quickly turned to annoyance. You didn't even give yourself time to really move on before looking for someone else? Hyunjin knew he was being irrational, but he couldn't help but feel insecure. What if this study session turned into something more? What if this guy tried to make a move on you?

"Look, I'm sure he's a perfectly nice guy, but you don't need to waste your time helping him. You can just point him to some online resources or tutors, maybe even ask your teacher for help."

“Hyunjin, why are you so pressed? Are you mad that we aren’t watching the movie? We can start it in a bit, let me just reply to this guy…” You say with an exasperated sigh, turning your phone’s screen away from his prying eyes.

"Fine, do what you want. But you should really be focusing on getting over your ex right now. If you don't give yourself time to heal, you might just end up making the same mistakes all over again with this new guy. And you know what that means? More heartbreaks." Hyunjin said, putting his phone down with a groan.

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard your little lecture a million times now.” You reply, rolling your eyes. “I swear I’m not into him, he’s just a friend.”

“Whatever, I’m starting the movie. Put the phone down, you can get back to him later.”

"You can't force me, Hyunjin..." You mutter as you roll your eyes, but eventually give in, setting your phone down. Hyunjin puts the movie on and you sit down to watch, leaning back against the warm, firmness of his chest. Hyunjin wraps an arm around you to pull you closer as he settles in for the movie. You're content to rest your head against him as you watch, and you notice that his hand hasn't left your waist. Even though this isn't the first time he’s done that, it makes you feel oddly... special. Maybe you can indulge yourself in his fondness tonight.

He tucks a stray hair behind your ear and nuzzles his cheek against your head.

“I’m always here for you, you know that right?” He whispers gently, as if his words could break you.

“Yeah. I know…”

taglist: @yangbbokari @2minstan @jinnie-ret send an ask to be on the taglist!!

leisel's note: hahahhahahahhaha... this chapter was kinda fun to write ngl, enjoy my pookies!!