#message me if you wanna block the ass that broke my heart and being

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent pls don’t rb it’s weird to do that

[junisfics]

All This Time — Armin Arlert (1)

series masterlist

Pairing: Armin Arlert x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Series Summary: Reader messages her best friend Armin late one night while she's drunk and needy, but will she remember the things she said to him in the morning, and if she does... will she regret it?

Part Summary: After Armin receives a disturbingly vague message from his best friend, he shows up to her house only to find her drunk and needy

Content: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Content Warnings: Sexual Content, Mentions of Masturbation, Sexual Fantasies

You met Armin in your freshman year of high school. You had gone to separate middle schools, but those two schools fed into your then high school and you became classmates. You shared a band class together, Armin played clarinet and you played the piano. The entire band was split between two periods, you and Armin’s seventh period consisted of woodwinds while the other period held brass… percussion was split evenly between the two periods. 

That was the first game of chance.

The second one was after-school practice sessions with Mr. Steunberg. Apparently, Armin was struggling with sight-reading just as much as you were, so you were paired together for practice lessons on Mondays. And every Monday for the second semester of freshman year, you and Armin played your instruments in that little sound booth while your music teacher corrected you from outside.

Eventually, the twenty minutes between the end of school and the beginning of lessons was being shared between the two of you rather than each of you hiding off down some hallway. You had decided to come down the band hall early, conveniently at the same time Armin had as well. 

It started with one of you asking if the other had a certain teacher, followed by asking if they had completed the night’s assignment for that class. Over time, the floor distance between you two closed and you’d sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor just outside the booth, knee to knee, sharing snacks before Mr. Steunberg made his way from his History class and down to the band hall. You’d work on homework together and laugh over the squeaking mistakes from the neighboring booths.

Just around the time when you and Armin began to grow comfortable with each other, your organized lessons had stopped and your blooming friendship had been put on pause. Neither of you missed it too much, you barely knew each other, but you still smiled at each other in the halls and occasionally talked before your shared class if there was time, but there really wasn’t.

It was like that for a while; little waves, sentence-long conversations, awkward silences followed by equally as awkward good-byes. It was months before you ever talked the same way you had in that little hallway.

It wasn’t like you craved his presence. Christ, you would completely forget about him if you didn’t see him every day in class. But when he came up to you at the end of the day one day while you were sitting on the piano bench, waiting for the final bell to ring, you couldn’t help but smile.

You still remember the shirt he was wearing, how he pushed those thin-rimmed glasses he still wore up his nose as he talked with you, “Can you help me with sight-reading? I don’t wanna tell my mom I need lessons again and I’m embarrassed to ask anyone else.”

Of course, you had said yes to him, you wouldn’t be pulling your phone out in the middle of the night in the peak of summer to text him while you’re shit-faced to text him if you hadn’t.

Your practicing together turned into practicing and doing homework together, which turned into getting off track and watching YouTube videos together. Then came the hanging out outside of homework and lessons; goofing off at either of your neighborhood parks, walking down the road to get fast-food, running around in a grocery store because there was nothing else to do in the suburbs.

There wasn’t an exact moment where you agreed that you were best friends, it just happened. You were always there for him whenever he got pushed around by the baseball boys, when his parents got divorced and his grandfather moved in, when he got his acceptance letter to the college of his choice; and he was there for you for your first boyfriend and your first heartbreak, he was there when your dog was lost for five days… he being the one that found her, and when you got your acceptance letter, he was the one sitting next to you with open arms.

There were moments when you found yourselves distancing; when you got into little arguments. But at the end of the day, the love that each of you had for each other was stronger than anything. You always came back to him, and he to you. 

No matter how many times you broke his heart by flirting with him just to hook up with some random guy at a party the same day, told him that he was your ‘best friend’, talking about how he was ‘like a brother’ to you, he couldn't leave you and he couldn’t stop loving you.

Armin would do anything for you and you would do anything for Armin. This is why when he got your messages in the dead of the night, he was over to your apartment before he could even text back.

‘armin’ ‘come over’ ‘help’ ‘need help’

Every second between the moment he got your messages until he reached your door, he was mortified. His heart was pounding out of his chest, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering while swerving around corners recklessly, eyes flitting over your parking lot to try and find anything out of the ordinary.

He almost tripped on the curb of the sidewalk while running up to your building. He was whipping open doors and frantically pressing elevator buttons as his keys still jangled in his hands, he didn’t even think to shove them into his pockets. His eyes bore into the red, electric lettering at the frame of the elevator, watching the numbers increase with his hand pressing against the metal doors like it’ll somehow make it go faster.

Once he reaches your door, he knocks frantically, jolts of pain shooting through his knuckles as he does so.

And you’re right at the door waiting for him. You tug it open the second you hear him outside of it, a giant smile of relief on your face.

“Oh my god! Thank god you’re here! I was going to pass out from waiting so long,” You giggle, grabbing ahold of his forearm that was still outstretched from knocking and pulling him inside.

It took him a moment to realize that you’re alright, that you’re standing right there in front of him, unharmed and unscathed, with his sweatshirt pulled over you, the one he gave you before leaving for university. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you grab at his arms to bring him forward, stumbling back over your own feet in the process which just sends you into another fit of giggles.

You had a slight sheen of sweat over your face and neck, not a lot, just enough so when your head turned to look behind you the kitchen lights bounced against the gloss on your skin. You didn’t have pants on as well, just these light grey boy-short panties that completely exposed the length of your legs.

It wasn’t like Armin hasn’t seen you in a swimsuit before. Many times your parents had taken you on trips to a lake where you would go tubing and swimming for hours on end until you were both drained of all your energy. But seeing you in, presumably, nothing but his sweatshirt and panties that bared your thighs and bottom curves of your ass had him far more flabbergasted than a swimsuit ever could.

“You’re — you’re okay?” He asks, voice still wavering with concern as you continue to drag him towards the kitchen.

“Absolutely not!” You sound serious, “I need help… with making my dessert.” Your faux serious tone falls apart and you’re choking back another wave of laughter.

Armin watches you incredulously but intently as you slide your hands down his forearms until both of your hands meet his own, giving them a squeeze before spinning around and gripping the kitchen island’s counter.

You have an array of stainless steel bowls crowded beside each other while a mixture of dry baking goods sits unstirred in one of the bowls. You shuffle through the measuring cups and spoons before picking up a large wooden spoon and holding it up to Armin, presenting it to him, like you’ve found a block of gold.

When you turn away from him, he looks over the state of the kitchen. Sugar and flour remnants cover the countertops, series of baking instruments litter them as well, and on the kitchen table is a bottle of vodka.

And then it hits him; you’re playful nature, unpredictability, clumsiness, and intimacy.

“Are you drunk?” He asks you. He isn’t disappointed, or angry, just slightly taken aback.

You bring your head up from the bowl and tilt your head side to side like you were thinking over his question, “A little.”

It was much more than ‘a little’. Before you had even started drinking you were in a playful mood. You had just gotten the offer for a summer job for lifeguarding at the apartment complex’s pool and you thought to celebrate by binging your favorite television show and having a few shots. Then, a few shots turned to many and you were dancing around your living room while having the time of your life before you had settled on making yourself some food. ‘Another celebration’ you had convinced yourself.

But the measuring and the mixing were too hard and who else was there to call other than your best friend?

“Oh my god.” Armin smiles, shaking his head at you and making his way towards you as you continue to mix at god-knows-what you’ve put into that bowl, “You need actual food, not whatever you’re making here.”

You let go of the spoon, letting out a little huff of frustration at his words, scrunching your nose real cutely as you turn towards him. You take the front of his tee-shirt in your hands, gently fiddling with the fabric as you pout.

“I want dessert, Armin.” You whine, bringing your head forward to rest your cheek on his chest. Your chest was pressing against his torso, bare legs knocking against his own.

“’Tomorrow-You’ is going to thank me for not letting you have dessert.” He awkwardly brings one of his hands to your back, patting it a few times before letting his hand rest between your shoulder blades.

“Please?” You whisper, tilting your head up until he can feel your tiny breaths against his chin. Armin hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat begins to pick up in his chest at your close proximity.

“No… No, I’ll — I’ll make you toast or something, how does that sound?” He suggests, snaking his hands between the two of you to gently nudge you off him.

But the space between the two of you is quickly closed when your slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, “Don’t want toast.” You murmur, standing up on the tips of your toes to get in his eye-line. Your nose was only a breath away from his.

Armin carefully takes your wrists in his hands, taking your arms off him as he stammers out, “Well, you’re going to have toast.”

You let out another noise of frustration as you pull yourself away from him, your hands balling into fists at your sides while he pulls open your fridge for the loaf of bread on the top shelf. You watch him with your head tilted in fascination like you’ve never seen bread before, admiring the way his hair falls into his eyes as his pretty hands unwrap the plastic sleeve of the loaf then tug the toaster away from the counter backsplash.

He truly was so beautiful. You always contained your attraction towards him so well, but now your restraint was slipping.

You prance over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his back as he slides two slices of bread from the loaf. His skin is so warm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders and back flex as he moves his arms, his abdominal muscles twitching as well in reaction to your fingertips skimming over them.

God, he’s so fucking nervous. 

Why is he so nervous? 

Because you’re all over him in just panties and his shirt when he’s had a crush on you for as long as he can remember. You’re being so touchy, so intimate with him, he’s afraid he might explode.

“Go sit down. Can’t — can’t help you if you’re in my way.” He says. Oh but he could help you, he could help you even if you were hanging on him like a spider monkey, he’s just afraid you’ll realize your effect on him if you do so.

“I just wanna be close to you. You’re so cute.” You nuzzle your head under his left arm until you and slip your whole body under it and stand ever so slightly in front of him, wedged between his torso and the countertop.

Your hands play with the hem of his shirt as you look up to him, your eyes glossy, and your pupils were blown. Armin tries his best to keep himself subtly distanced from you, but it’s no use. Every time he inches away, you’re just back on him. 

You’re sliding your hands up his chest, fingers tracing over his jaw and cheekbones as you cling to his side. He can feel your hips knocking against his, your thighs rubbing against his as you shift around to try and get closer. Your fingers follow along the curves of his neck, tracing down his throat then skimming over his collarbones.

“Sit here then. Sit on the counter.” Armin grabs ahold of your torso and pushes you against the counter, the edge of it rutting into the small of your back. You grab ahold of his biceps and let out a flirty little giggle at what his actions could be insinuating.

Your fingers press into the plush muscle of his arms as he strains to lift you, your heels grappling at the cabinets below you to try and aid him. His waist ends up slipped between your knees when you’re finally seated, and you can feel your body flush hot with arousal.

You were already sweating from the exertion you had put forward before he had arrived, but the added closeness with Armin was just driving you crazy.

“Now sit, and stay.” Armin places his hands in front of you to enforce his directions.

You giggle a few times, smiling at the fact that he’s treating you like a dog, “Woof.” 

Armin slips his waist out from your knees to come to your left slide, plucking the now toasted bread from the toaster and setting it on a napkin. He pulls open the drawer to his right for a butter knife, then snatches the butter from the island and brings it to your toast. 

His hands shake as he pulls the glass top of the butter dish, they shake as he dips the knife into the butter, and continues to shake as he spreads the butter over the first piece of toast. He can feel your thigh brushing against his hip as you swing your legs.

You begin to breathe heavier, the heat of exhaustion and heat of arousal begin to grow overwhelming. You fan your face a few times, pushing your hair off your neck, before grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it up and over your head.

“What — what are you doing?” Armin stammers, taking a tiny step away from you.

You absentmindedly fold the sweatshirt before setting it aside to fan your face again, “It’s so hot… I think it’s you, Armin.”

You can see his face flush red this time, his ears as well, turning his cheeks and nose a pretty pink shade that doesn’t help your problem.

Armin tries to ignore you, he really does, but it’s so difficult because now you’re in this skimpy little tank top with spaghetti straps. And the straps are slipping off your shoulders and Jesus fucking christ you’re not wearing a bra. He can’t stop his eyes from flitting over your scantily clad figure, drinking in the way your thighs squish against the counter, the curve of your ass as it’s pressed to the granite, the way your nipples tease the thin fabric of your skin.

“Have I ever told you that? That you’re so fine?” You giggle, running a finger down his bicep as he finishes buttering your toast. You’re so grateful that he’s got that stupid white tee shirt on, the one that keeps your gaze lingering over the lean muscle in his chest and back.

“Um, n — no. Toast is done, hop down.” He refuses to make eye contact because if he does, he’s scared he won’t be able to stop himself from kissing you.

“Help.” You pout, reaching out your hands and grabbing for his shoulders.

Armin listens to your plea, setting the toast back down and grabbing ahold of your waist to slide you off the counter. But instead of bringing your feet to the floor, you wrap your legs around his waist and hook your arms around his neck. You have to tilt your head down to look into his eyes, only to see his pupils blown and lashes fluttering as he blinks.  He doesn’t push you off him. Instead, he uses his left hand to snatch the food off the counter while his right hand comes to brace your lower back. 

He’s afraid he’s going to have a heart attack now; feeling your thighs wrapped around him, your cunt hovering just right over his growing cock, your back arching your chest so close to his face that he swears if he looked down he would get a perfect view of your tits, your parted lips all glossy, breath fanning over the bridge of his nose as you run your fingers over the curves of his pretty pink lips.

Fuck. He was definitely getting off to this later.

You’re giggling all the while, and to an extent, you know exactly the effect you have on him. It’s cute, the way he stumbles around your house and trying to keep his footing as he brings you to your bedroom. 

“C’mon, Armin. At least take me on a date first,” You tease as he kneels down to bring your backside to the foot of the bed. Once your legs release his waist, he stands again.

“I’m — I’m not trying — we’re not —” He stutters, bringing his hands forward again like he’s scared you’ll pounce on him.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. Armin wants nothing more in the entire world than to have you beneath him, to have his cock sheathed inside you, to have you moan out his name as you cum around his cock…

But he couldn’t let it happen like this.

You were drunk, so so drunk. And you probably didn’t even know what you were saying.

“We can if you want to.” You speak softly, your knees knocking together as you settle into your seat, fiddling with your hands in your lap as if you got all shy all of a sudden.

And when you look up to him through your lashes, brows furrowed slightly in a pout, Armin almost caves. But he catches himself just as fast, shoving your toast in front of you like it’s a shield.

Your eyes shift down to the food that’s presented before you, and your pout turns into a cute little smile as you daintily take it from his hands. You let the napkin rest in your left palm as you hold the food in your right, immediately taking a little bite out of it.

“You want some water?” Armin asks, still standing in front of you.

You give him a nod without looking up, taking another bite out of the toast while he fills up the cup that he knew rested beside your bathroom sink. As he stands in front of the mirror he takes a moment to breathe in and out deeply as the water fills the cup.

You were going to be the death of him.

“You know, I mean it when I say you’re attractive,” He hears you say, still sitting all obediently on your bed and waiting for him to return, “Everyone’s like, ‘oh Armin got so hot!’, but I always thought you were cute… you just got so — nnghh — in the past year.”

He returns with your glass of water, holding it out to you as you finish chewing. You take it from him gently, holding it in both your hands, careful not to drop it, as you take little sips.

He knew you were being irrational, but he truly hopes you mean what you say.

When you finish drinking, you pat your hand against the mattress as you set your cup to the floor. You want him close again, want the warmth he radiates both physically and spiritually. Armin listens to your ask and sits beside you carefully, running his hands over his thighs as you pull your legs up on the mattress and cross them under you.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You ask, voice getting tiny again.

That was real… that question… he’s so sure of it. You were always insecure about your looks when you had no reason to be, but he had no idea that you cared what he thought about you.

“I — um… I — I don’t think my — my opinion matt —” He tries to get it to come out sounding right, but the moment he opens his mouth he already knows he’s failed terribly.

“Do… do you not think I’m pretty?” He can hear the feeling of betrayal in your voice, you turn your head away from him.

“No! No, y/n, I think you’re really pretty —”

You grab ahold of his shirt collar and tug him towards you as you let your back fall to the mattress. His torso comes over you and his hand shoots out beside your head to keep him from falling atop you. He can’t even bring himself to pull off of you, because your noses are touching and he can feel your knees knocking against the left side of his waist.

“I — you’re — God, y/n you’re so pretty. Don’t ever think I don’t think that.” He breathes, trying so hard to your lips from touching, for his own sake.

Your mouth splits into a smile and a little laugh escapes your lips. Your free hand grabs ahold of his shirt as well, assuring both you and him that he isn’t going anywhere. You look down to his lips, slightly parted as he pants heavily to keep his composure.

“No, but you don’t understand,” You keep your eyes on his lips, fighting the desire to kiss him, “You’re so fucking hot.”

Armin’s breath gets caught in his throat because you had spoken that in a borderline whimper. Your bottom lip had been taken between your teeth after you finished speaking, and he swears he could see your back arch slightly.

It was completely visible now, how much you needed him. You were holding onto him for dear life, your thighs were squeezing together and your arched back had your stomach brushing against his. You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, irises filled with lust and hunger.

Armin’s so grateful that your legs are to his side and now wrapped around his waist again because he would not have been able to stop himself from grinding down against you… it would have been completely involuntary.

“And — and don’t tell anyone this but sometimes… sometimes I get off to you,” You bring your voice to a whisper as you reveal your secret, lifting your head to move closer to him. He can feel your lips brush against his as you speak, “Actually... like all the time.”

Armin lets out an audible exhale, his jaw slacking at your revelation, he has to shut his eyes again.

“Do you get off to me too?” You ask. And you speak like you didn’t just reveal that to him, bringing your head back down to the mattress and smiling.

Of course he does. Of course he does. 

Junior year of high school you offered to be his first kiss, just for fun, ‘cause you were friends, right? And you wanted to help him get it over with. 

But every night since then, Armin has gotten off to you; laid back in his bed with his cock in his fist, and whispering your name as he cums.

“I — we’re best friends — y/n, I —”

“Best friends don’t wanna fuck each other, Armin.” You say, your voice losing all its playfulness and growing serious like you had suddenly become sober.

You stare into his pretty blue eyes for a moment, letting your own flit between the two of his. You were watching for any change in his expression, any look of disgust or repulsion, but you don’t find any. He just keeps that same incredulous, lust-filled look on his face.

He looks over you as well. Your eyes were still so droopy and hazy, your lips parted like you’re manually breathing. You were so drunk that it almost hurt him. You weren’t going to remember a single thing in the morning, and the two of you would be back to square one because Armin would never be able to repeat to you what you said to him or admit his searing desire for you.

Armin can feel your grip on his shirt tighten once more, and instead of lifting your head to him, you pull him down to you.

“I need you,” You whisper, voice shaking with arousal, “Fuck me... please.”

Armin swallows hard, his arms beginning to shake under his weight. He was going to fucking explode. He needed a break, just a moment, anything so he can catch his breath and regain some of his composure.

Christ, he was so fucking hard. If you were sober, he wouldn’t hesitate for a single second to rip off both of your clothes and push his cock inside you.

“I can’t — you’re drunk,” He murmurs, and you can hear the hurt in his voice. You can hear the fact that he truly wanted to do what you begged him for.

“No, Armin, I want it. I need it. I mean it, I swear.” You plead, your hands pawing at his shirt like he was attempting to get away from you and you wanted him to stay. But Armin was set put, he wasn’t moving, he couldn’t move even if he wanted.

“I need your cock.”

“Not — not now. You need to sleep this off. You’re… you’re not yourself right now,” He takes his eyes off yours, closing them once more and squeezing them shut.

“I’ve — I’ve always wanted you though. Always, I promise.” You continue, hoping that somehow you’ll convince him.

It was true. You wish he could understand how true it was. All the guys you had gotten with after-parties, after football games… they were all just replacements, they were fill-ins for him. You would pretend that it was him that was filling you up, gripping your hips and whispering dirty things against your ear. And for seconds at a time, it would work and you would convince yourself that Armin was right there with you.

And every time you would see him helping another girl with school work, see them flirting with him and getting touchy with him, playing with his glasses or drawing shapes on his hands with a pen… this disgusting feeling would churn around in your stomach and bubble up into your throat. And although Armin was oblivious to their flirting, it still hurt so fucking bad.

“I’ve always wanted you too… just — just not like this. Just sleep it off, okay? And — and then we’ll talk.” His left hand wraps around your waist while his right switches to brace beside your head. He grabs ahold of your torso and shimmies you up the bed until your head meets the pillow.

He sits back on his calves, his left arm sliding out from under you while his right hand brushes your messy hair out of your face before petting your head.

“And, and you’ll fuck me in the morning?” You ask, completely genuine.

Armin swallows hard again, pulling himself away from you and helping you slide your body under your sheets, “If — if you still want me to.”

You look up to him with your eyes full of admiration as he smoothes the sheets over your body, “I’ll always want you to.”

It comes out sounding much more intimate than it actually is to say that ‘you’ll always want Armin to fuck you’. And Armin lets his eyes meet yours again, matching the love that’s filled them.

He smiles to hide the doubt he has inside his chest. In the morning, you’ll either regret every word and ghost him or you’ll forget everything you’ve admitted. Both options made Armin’s heart hurt, but he decides that you leaving him would be the worst of the two. He wouldn’t know what to do if you’d never talk to him again. So for now, he truly hopes you forget.

Armin pulls his hands away from you, shuffling his knees on the bed to get off of it. But before he can bring his feet to the ground, you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Stay, please.” You ask, your eyes struggling to stay open. He wonders if you even know that you’re talking.

He listens to you anyway, bringing his hand down to the mattress as he slips himself under the sheets and next to you. And if he wasn’t sure about staying before, he sure was now because you were so warm and so soft as you shimmied back against him. You take his arm and sling it over your waist, letting his palm splay out over your stomach. You can feel every rise of his chest against your back.

You were going to doze off so easily, he was so warm, he was so comforting. You could feel sleep beginning to creep up on you quickly. But before you let it take over, you slide your hand back and between your bodies to grab the source of the hard thing poking into your ass.

“You’re so hard,” You giggle.

Armin chokes on his breath again and grabs your wrist to pull your hand off his dick, “Stop. Go — go to bed.”

You listen this time, retracting your hand to slip it over his that rests on your stomach, interlacing your fingers as you succumb to your exhaustion.

[starglow-xx]

hello! may i request headcanons for chuuya having a crush on someone who's dense? like he could ask them out in the most straightforward way possible and it would still go over their head?

yes, yes of course you may!

sorry this took so long! my computer was out of commission for abt a week (or two..??)

but this is also my birthday writing piece for chuuya!! (4/29/21) i even added a small drabble thingy in addition to the hcs for the occasion hehe

from where i am, it is about fifteen minutes past midnight so it’s officially chuuya day here!!

happy birthday chuuya i love you! you deserve the whole world and everyone is willing to fight tooth and nail to ensure your happiness! we love you! 💗💗

anyways, i hope you all enjoy this! i kinda had some writer’s block but it was still a lot of fun to write! there might be some mistakes, but i’ll scan over it again later. reader is gender neutral! have fun!

chuuya having a crush on a dense! reader

nakahara chuuya x gn! reader

im cackling somebody help him

he’s frustrated bc you can’t take a hint or a thousand but he can’t even be mad bc he’s whipped

“look at you all dressed up today, wanna go out later? my treat?”

“oh really? thanks chuuya-san! you’re such a nice friend. i’ll go invite the others right now, i’ll see you later!”

“...”

fast forward to later in the evening and he finds himself at a little restaurant with the black lizard + higuchi and akutagawa

sigh

in unison all of them go, “thank you for the meal chuuya-san!” (except aku and hirotsu are quieter & and gin just a nods hehe)

“no problem” (ꐦ ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )

gin only pats him on the back in sympathy

he spends a lot of time trying to think of ways to make it absolutely and undeniably clear that he has feelings for you

he always fails

“(y/n) i like you”

“i like you too chuuya-san”

“really?”

“mhm”

“t-then will you—”

“you’re a really great friend! and superior too”

“...nevermind”

“oh were you saying something?”

“nah, just forget about it”

tachihara is laughing in the corner of the corridor

dont worry, chuuya made sure to get back at him

chuuya’s been pinning after you for years and frankly, his failed attempts to woo you has lead everyone to the breaking point

and i mean everyone

yes, even aku

hell even dazai

but dazai also thinks it’s funny, so he doesn’t mind all that much

okay bye bye dazai-san this headcanon set isn’t abt you rn

PLEASE EVERYONE FEELS SO BAD FOR HIM

they knew even if he kissed you, you still might not get it

so they decided to help him

super secret mission get chuuya and (y/n) together is a go!

they’re still working on a proper mission name, don’t mind them

they had a super secret strategy meeting!

you can bet your ass that they nearly got nothing done

akutagawa & kaiji weren’t much help, neither was higuchi, mori, or elise

tachihara nearly got killed for a thoughtless comment

“just tell them chuuya-san!”

“i already fucking did you ass!”

gin, hirotsu, and kouyou were the most helpful !!

hirotsu and kouyou both agreed on the idea that chuuya should try courting with bouquets of flowers instead of flat out asking you bc they knew you found them pretty

(even if you don’t identify as a female, flowers are for everyone no matter gender or sexuality! so let’s normalize giving flowers to everyone <33 )

gin didn’t speak but she used cards to communicate

everyone knew that you weren’t stupid (you wouldn’t have survived in the mafia if you were) but they did know that you were only stupid when it came to all this lovey dovey stuff

i mean, if chuuya gave you flowers every so often, there’s no way that you wouldn’t piece it together at some point

right...??

but kouyou assured him that even though you wouldn’t get it right away, you’d appreciate the gestures and that he’ll stand out more

she even said that if someone gave her flowers, she would appreciate it, whether or not she reciprocated their feelings

it takes guts to be so up front with your feelings after all

gin and hirotsu only nodded with her explanation

once again, this only provoked a reaction out of tachihara

“what do you know gin? i get the old man and kouyou-san, they’re grown, but you? what do you know abt courting? or flowers? what are you a girl?”

akutagawa choked on his cough, higuchi on air, and on the other side of yokohoma at the ada, dazai is cackling

yes, dazai somehow placed a listening device onto chuuya’s hat and was listening in

don’t ask how, it’s dazai

“DAZAI GET YOUR BANDAGED ASS OFF THE COUCH AND STOP LAUGHING”

anyways

the next day, chuuya did what was barely discussed and for once, things actually started to look up

until they started look to down again

at first, it actually looked like you understood his intentions after he gave you a bouquet of flowers

literally everyone was leaning against the opposite hallway you two were in and then they got excited !!

especially chuuya !

but then your expression sort of changed...??

and then in their heads they simultaneously went, “oh no”

they knew that expression

it was very familiar when you tended to friend zone chuuya

but boy let me tell you what you said next made them facepalm and or make their jaws drop

“ah, so you really are friend zoning me huh chuuya-san; what a shame, i really did like you”

LEMME TELL YOU WHEN I SAY THAT CHUUYA WAS DISTRESSED I MEAN HE WAS DISTRESSED

you liked him??

him of all people??

he wasn’t complaining, no of course not, but he still couldn’t believe it

but that wasn’t what he was really focusing on right now

what in any form or language did it say he was friend zoning you?!

flower language apparently

chuuya chose to buy the bouquet of yellow roses, pink carnations, and yellow carnations bc he thought you would appreciate the brighter colors, and so that you’d remember them better (because remembering them, meant remembering him)

but ooh boy

altogether, they meant the exact opposite message he wanted to send

someone help him pls

“you see chuuya-san, yellow roses mean friendship, pink carnations mean gratitude, and yellow carnations mean rejection; sooo in a nutshell, these pretty much say ‘thank you for being my friend, but im rejecting you”

no one can tell if tachihara is crying or wheezing

and dazai is having the time of his life

yes, he started listening in on him again

and chuuya is just stunned

like speechless and unmoving stunned

is he just bad at this whole courting/dating thing?? it’s only been one day and of it and somehow he was the one doing the rejecting??

“thank you for the flowers chuuya-san, i’ll be going now; i’ll make sure to let this affect our friendship. i’ll see you tomorrow!”

you passed by the not so subtle group of people

“tachihara-kun..?? are you alright?”

just for context, he was leaning his forehead against the wall using his forearm

again, it was hard to tell whether he was crying or wheezing

“i-im okay (y/n)-san...i think c-chuuya-san has it worse than me”

“...okay..?”

BACK TO CHUUYA

he’s still frozen poor baby

but it’s okay bc after like 5 more seconds he’s chasing you down the hallway you were walking in

kouyou, with a knowing smile on her face, ushers everyone away towards the opposite direction

she received some whines (ahem, tachihara and mori) but silenced them by summoning golden demon

but it’s okay

if they run fast enough, they can see what happens through the security cameras

chuuya caught up with you and tried to explain everything but he was exhausted

emotionally, physically (bc since when did you walk that fast??), and generally just tired with the whole situation

he just wanted to call you his; was that too much to ask??

as explosive as he can be, he can be calm and collected too

and he really did try to be that way as he talked with you but it was very difficult at the moment

the dumbfounded and confused look on your face his face twitch with annoyance and his heart started beating faster bc god you were cute

BUT THATS BESIDES THE POINT RIGHT NOW

thank goodness after what seemed like years, you finally somewhat understood what happened

you didn’t understand completely but it was something

The two of you stood in the middle of the unusually empty hallway facing each other, you with the bouquet still in hand. It was quiet as you and Chuuya assessed the situation.

You looked at him skeptically and he stared right back you with his gorgeous blue eyes.

“...So you do like me Chuuya-san??”

“Yes”

“And you were trying to court me just now, not friend zone me??”

“Yes”

You got most of your questions out of the way, but there was something that you’ve been wondering about for quite a while.

“...So you’re not gay for Dazai-san??”

“Yes, im not wait—GAY FOR DAZAI?? THAT MACKEREL??”

Chuuya did a double take. What in heavens name made it seem like he liked that suicidal maniac?? Why would he choose him if he had you?

Like he would choose him anyways; or ever consider him as a possible romantic partner.

“Oh, so you are?”

“NO! I SAID I LIKED YOU DIDN’T I?”

“Well yeah, but I thought you liked Dazai-san too. As annoying as he is, he can be quite charming—”

He was out of patience at this point (nope definitely not because you were talking about Dazai who told you that?) and just decided to kiss you.

You immediately melted into the kiss and kissed him back with the same amount of love and feeling.

Letting the bouquet fall to the ground, you wrapped you arms around his neck and his put his on your lower back and brought you closer to him. After a few more moments, the two of you broke apart for air.

The two of you, slightly out of breath, leaned your foreheads against each other and just basked in each others presence.

Chuuya looked into your (e/c) eyes and asked you just a little bit above a whisper, “Now do you get my intentions and feeling?”

You blinked at him before breaking out into a grin, “Hmm I’m not sure; do you wanna do that again Chuuya?”

The red head only blinked back at you before rolling his eyes, a smile present on his handsome features, his heart fluttering at you using his name with the honorific.

“Dumbass”

Smiling cheekily at him, you pressed a kiss on his cheek and started dragging him towards the lobby to take a walk around the building perimeter, knowing that the two of you can’t be too far from work.

The way down to the lobby was mostly in comfortable silence until you said something that made Chuuya want to bash his head against the wall.

“You know, you could’ve just told me you liked me Chuuya. It’s not like I would’ve said no.”

Once again, as the rest of the more power mafia members watch from security cameras, it is hard to tell whether Tachihara is crying or wheezing of laughter.

omake !!

The two of you just started making your way around the building when suddenly a very familiar voice came from Chuuya’s prized hat.

“Chuuyaaaa!! It was about time you stopped being a chicken, Chibi!”

Removing his hat from his head, he started yelling at it not knowing exactly where the listening device was planted.

“TEME! HOW DID YOU—”

“And (y/n)! I would congratulate you, but I think I would rather offer you my condolences. Why him?! He’s just a slimy slug. OOH OOH how would you like to join me in a double suicide?! A shame it won’t be a lover’s suicide but it’ll annoy Chuuya so I think it’ll be worth it! ”

“YOU—”

“And please don’t kiss while I’m listening in. You made me lose my appetite! And it was such a shame! I was eating crab using Kunikida-kun’s money! Do you know what you’ve cost me?!”

“DAZAI YOU PIECE OF—”

“Ah! Kunikida-kun is here! I have to go!”

You can hear something is the background that vaguely sounds like, “DAZAI YOU WASTE OF BANDAGES STOP USING MY MONEY”

“DAZAI DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE IM NOT DONE WITH—”

*Click!*

The click sound from the hat revealed that Dazai disconnected.

Chuuya twitched and glared furiously at his signature hat hating that the voice he hated the most came out of it.

“Aww, I didn’t get to talk to Dazai-san”

Chuuya whipped his head towards you, a look of mock (or real) betrayal showing on his features.

You laughed at him before taking the hat out of his hands and placing it on his head.

He shyly looked away before muttering a thanks making you smile wider. Just as the two of you were about to start walking, a small explosion erupted from his hat; it was likely that Dazai made the listening device self destruct.

“DAZAI YOU BASTARDD”

At the Armed Detective Agency, a certain suicidal maniac hid from the wrath of his current partner as he thought about the wrath his old one.

“Hmmm I wonder if Chuuya would finally stop wearing his ugly hats if I blow all of them up...”

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

[maria-akira]

good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader

—♡—

READ PART 2 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he has to (fake) date you. if he falls in love again, he loses and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: private school au, fuckboy!michael, slight mention of sexual topics + i didnt proofread this mwahaha

this fic is inspired by the song 'good girls (don't get used)' by beach bunny.

i don't know if other private schools have bells, because mine doesn't :(

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song. but in this chapter, there are none since this is like an intro :)

—♡—

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"Are you kidding? She really said that?"

"You really think that's gonna happen?"

"Who's class do you have first?"

Voices of different students flooded the white and grey hallways of the school. Different friend groups and teachers can be seen roaming the halls, getting stuff from their respective lockers as they waited for the bell to ring.

"Y/N! Do you mind if I borrow your calculator? I forgot mine at home and Math is my next class." She said while panting.

"Sure, here it is. If you lose it, I'd probably drop kick your ass." Y/N let out a small laugh and grabbed the calculator from her locker, giving it to her friend.

"Gosh, Y/N. I'll never lose it! I'll give it back during recess. Thanks again!" She flashed Y/N a smile and waved bye, before returning to her locker.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror she had on her locker, fixing the tie that always seemed to be out of place whenever she checked. Her hair was neat, complete with a white headband that complimented the color of her school's uniform.

A few seconds later, the bell rang and everybody started rushing. Different couples were seen kissing before they parted ways for the mean time.

Cringe. Y/N thought. She shrugged it off and held her books tightly to her chest, walking to her next class.

Walking straight into the classroom, she noticed a group of guys dart their eyes to her direction as she entered. They gave her weird smirks. In return, she stared back at them while she made her way to her seat and never broke eye contact. Eventually, she noticed a familiar face among the group.

Michael, her ex.

How the fuck is he in my English class? She thought, along with a whole hundred thoughts roaming around her head. Michael stared back at her, giving her a wink.

Y/N's face gave a hint of disgust, "The fuck do you want, Langdon?" She stood up from her seat and walked over to Michael, pushing his other friends. She heard his friends coo and tease Michael for his act towards her.

Michael put up his hands in defense, "Chill, is it bad to wink at a pretty girl like you?" He said with a smug look, while he grazed his hand over her arm.

"Shut the fuck up, Langdon. Don't you ever touch me." Y/N slapped his hand away, his friends taken aback from her actions. As she walked back to her seat, the teacher entered as well.

Y/N put her face in her hands. By now, a million thoughts were in her head. It's been 2 years since Michael and her broke up, and since then, she made a promise to herself that she would never fall in love with men like him. She was so tired of all the tears and sleepless nights that Michael gave her.

She let out a sigh and lifted her head from her hands. The soft light from the windows filled her eyes after the darkness formed by her hands, causing her to rub her eyes to adjust from the light.

The rest of the hour went smoothly for Y/N, after English class was recess, her most favorite time of the day— aside from going home, of course.

She glanced at her watch, 10:28 AM.

2 more minutes, and English will be over. She thought.

She averted her gaze back on the white board full of scribbles about some writing lesson she clearly did not listen to. She looked over to her classmates and friends, Well they aren't listening either. She laughed at the thought.

As soon at the bell rang, everyone started packing up their notebooks, textbooks, and whatever they had on their table. Every student was seen rushing out of every classroom in hopes of being the first ones in line for the cafeteria.

On the way there, Y/N bumped into her friend group. "Hey Y/N! We heard about happened in English class. Michael is really in your class?" A friend of hers mentioned, "Yea, and apparently that son of a bitch winked at me, such a disgusting ass motherfucker. he should keep his fuck boy ass to himself." Y/N spat out, earning a chorus of 'oh's' from her friends.

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the line was painfully long, all of them groaned in frustration and they had no choice but to wait for the line to move. But once it did, it was faster than usual. After Y/N and her friends received their food, they left the cafeteria to eat at their usual place.

The school rooftop.

A few students know that staying in the school rooftop is permitted, which was why Y/N and her friends loved eating there.

When they arrived at the rooftop, they saw the usual people that they always encounter while staying there. The view was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The small garden in the rooftop gave a beautiful and elegant touch.

Though there were a few chairs and tables, Y/N and her friends always preferred to eat on the floor. So, they laid the linen cloth on the ground and sat on it. Y/N was wearing the skirt uniform, thus she removed her tux and placed it on her legs to prevent her skirt from lifting.

They shared a few giggles while they ate their meals, laughing about some life experiences, or whatever they wanted to talk about.

Y/N loved this. She loved how she and her friends would have little moments like these, it was like an escape from reality.

The rest of the day went smoothly for Y/N. She didn't fall asleep in any of her classes, which in this case was a very big accomplishment for her.

As soon as she arrived home, her little brother, Aaron, rushed towards her. "Y/N!! I missed you!" He chimed, Y/N kneeled down onto his level and gave him the tightest hug. "I missed you too, Aaron!" Her mom came into the room and smiled. Y/N stood up and gave her mom a hug as well.

"How was school?" Her mom asked, Y/N placed her tux on the coat hanger by the door. "It was fine, Mom. Where's Dad?" Y/N walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk, "He'll be home soon, he still has a meeting right now." She took a sip of her milk, "Oh, okay. I'll be upstairs doing school work." The glass of milk that was once full, now empty.

She took her things upstairs and plopped herself on the bed. Out of nowhere she felt a vibrating noise from her bag, she rummaged through her bag to find her phone and once she did, a message was see on her lockscreen.

Unknown Sender has sent you a message.

She unlocked her phone and went to her messages.

Unknown Sender: hey ;)

Her eyebrows furrowed. What the fuck?

(Y/N): hi? whos this?

read 2:29 pm

Unknown Sender: oh shit you deleted my number? damn.

"Huh? I don't recall deleting anyone's number..." She went to her recently deleted contacts and it showed nothing.

(Y/N): im sorry, i haven't deleted anyone's number recently, maybe you have the wrong number?

read 2:32 pm

Unknown Sender: im pretty sure you know me, Y/N.

They know my name. And her heart started pounding.

(Y/N): and im pretty sure i dont, so just reveal yourself before i report this number

read 2:35pm

Unknown Sender: ayo chill 😬 its me michael.

"Michael fucking Langdon? You've got to be fucking me right now." She felt rage fill her, slamming her keyboard.

(Y/N): langdon what the fuck do you want? i made it very clear that i dont want you talking to me.

read 2:40 pm

Before Michael could reply, she changed his contact name to 'Motherfucker'

You have changed Unknown Sender's contact name as 'Motherfucker'

Motherfucker: damn you still mad at me after 2 years? gosh (Y/N). whats with the nickname?

(Y/N): of course im still mad, asshole. ill never forget what you fucking did.

read 2:43 pm

Motherfucker: i thought you forgave me 🥺

(Y/N): FORGIVE YOU???? god langdon you're so fucking stupid, i will never forgive you. you didnt even say sorry in the first place!

Pissed off, Y/N blocked his number. "That fucking asshole." She mumbled to herself.

—

"Hey! Y/N!" A familar voice called out from the crowd. Y/N removed one earbud and turned around to find the voice that called her.

Once she saw the shiny blonde locks from that stood out in the crowd, she immediately ran in the opposite direction in hopes of avoiding him.

It was Michael, again.

"Y/N wait!" Michael called out again, chasing her

For some reason, Michael was able to catch her. He pulled Y/N into an empty science laboratory and they were both panting.

"What the fuck do you want this time, Langdon?" Y/N was catching her breath, fanning herself with her hand.

"Okay. First off, sorry for the sudden message. I know I pissed you off and that wasn't my intention at a—"

"What was your intention then?" She cut him off.

Michael panicked.

"Uh, you know? I just wanna talk to you again. Clear the bad air between us.."

Y/N let out a laugh, "Clear the bad air?? Oh gooood Langdon, you are really so stupid! You know what? You just made it worse." She pushed him off and walked out of the room,

"Whatever it is your planning, Langdon, I'm telling to stop it. I don't wanna talk to you or even go near you."

Michael was dumbfounded. She changed so much. He thought to himself.

2 years ago, Y/N was the sweetest, most innocent girl he knew. Playing with her feelings was Michael's biggest regret, and he's starting to feel it again.

Michael was about to leave the room until he felt a buzzing from his pocket, He pulls out his phone to see who was calling him.

Duncan, one of his bestfriends.

Michael answered the call, "Hello?"

"What's the update on your little girl?"

"She still doesn't trust me."

"That's sad man."

"I know. She changed alot. "

"What do you mean by 'changed'?" Duncan emphasized,

"I can't point it out, Dunc."

"Whatever you do, don't chicken out. I promise this bet is worth it."

"Fine, I trust you."

Call Ended.

Michael ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and left the room before the bell rang.

—

It was the last subject of the day. Most students were falling asleep or on their phones.

Y/N was scribbling weird things on the back of her notebook, when suddenly the bell rang. She packed up her stuff and stood up from her seat. Before she could leave the room, she saw a familiar face again.

Michael stood by the doorway of her classroom, the strap of his bag over one shoulder while he looked for Y/N among the other students.

Y/N ignored Michael and walked past him, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him.

"Langdon! What the fuck do you want?!" She screamed, all of the students averting their attention to her.

Michael put a finger on his lips, shushing her. "Let's go somewhere private, yea?"

"But—"

Before she could object, Michael dragged her outside towards the parking lot.

"Okay this is actually something serious—"

"CUT THE SHIT LANGDON! IM TIRED OF YOU."

"Woah‐woah! Easy now. I actually need your help, with school..."

Michael rubbed her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. For once, Y/N believed him. His eyes were speaking the truth.

"Okay, fine. Shoot."

"I can't believe I'm saying this.."

"Don't waste my time, Langdon."

"Fine! I'm failing."

Y/N's mouth hung open. Michael was one of the top students in their batch and this was obviously a huge surprise for her.

"Oh, really? What am I gonna do about that?" She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

"Can you please help me? Like, tutor me?" At this point, Michael was desperate.

"Um, no thanks. Just fuck some other girl's pussy for your grades." Y/N pushed him away, but Michael stopped her again.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I really need your help."

"Why me?"

Now that made Michael nervous.

"Because you happen to be the top of our batch right now?"

"Fine! Under one condition."

Michael was curious, "What?"

"If I do this tutor shit, we're doing it at my place. I can't tutor you in your messy ass room." Y/N said. She always remembered how messy Michael's room was when they were together. He would only clean when he was scolded by Y/N.

"That's fine by me."

"Okay then. 5pm, sharp."

She walked away, but Michael pulled her again.

"Let me go! What do you want now?" Y/N said, clearly annoyed.

"Unblock my number, silly." Michael chuckled,

"No."

"How are you supposed to know if I already arrived?"

"Theres a doorbell, dimwit. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

"Bu—"

"Bye, Michael. I'll see you later." Y/N flashed him a small smile and continued to walk away.

Once he saw Y/N reach the bus stop, he started walking to his car, until someone tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Michael, whats the update? I saw you talking to her." It was Duncan. His brown hair was lightly gelled back and the first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone.

"I'm still trying to win her back, I lied to her that I was failing so she could tutor me. That way, it'll be easier."

Duncan smirked, "That's my boy! When will this tutor thing start?"

"Later, 5pm."

"Hmm, that's good. Remember, if you fall in love again, bet's over."

"I won't."

—♡—

tags mwah: @kitwalker02 @sojournmichael @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs

i hope you guys enjoyed this. i wrote this while doing schoolwork </3

[goldenraeofsun]

4:01 PM

Dean sips his whiskey and glowers across the bar at his own reflection. His wrist is burning like a brand, but it’s probably all in his head. The stupid timers don’t cause physical pain when they reach T-minus zero, Houston we have a problem. The numbers freeze, and that’s that.

Dean’s had counted down to nothing at exactly 4:01 PM, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of running into his soulmate, getting his number, continuing on his way to this bar, and telling the bartender to keep ‘em coming.

He refuses to look at the far corner of the room, the booth he had reserved like an idiot. Four PM, party of two, under the name Winchester.

On the bar by his glass, his phone is still lit up with Cas’s texts from the past hour.

Cas 3:11 I’m so sorry I have to move our appointment. My client just unexpectedly switched our time to 4pm.

Cas 3:21 I think I’ll be able to escape by 4:30. Can I meet you then?

Dean had responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Cas 3:50 This city is impossible to navigate. How does anyone live here?

Cas 3:58 You were right, I should have rented a car.

Three minutes after Cas’s last text, Dean ran into his soulmate. Right on schedule.

As far as first meetings go, it hadn’t been as much of a shitshow as Dean had expected.

The dude was attractive, at least, and the first thing he did after bumping into Dean was apologize. But he was wearing a tailored suit and glued to his phone, so it definitely could have been better.

His soulmate would’ve run off none the wiser, except Dean had to blurt, “Wait!” because, despite his disappointment, Dean couldn’t let his soulmate disappear into the throngs of Michigan Avenue. Dean wasn't about to fall to one knee, but he also couldn't let his best shot just go.

The man stopped, irritated. His gaze refused to linger on Dean, instead fixating on a building at the end of the block.

Head swimming with too many thoughts to name, Dean couldn’t get the right words out. He gestured mutely to his wrist, pulling up the flannel to show him.

Eyes widening with understanding, his soulmate quickly tugged up the cuff of his sleeve, only sparing a second to verify his own timer stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.” he said, distracted. “My name is James. Here,” he fished out a pen and something to write on from various pockets of his trench coat, “my number. We… should talk. Later.” He scowled, raising his other wrist to check at his watch. “I need to go.”

“Sure, man,” Dean said, mostly grateful he didn’t have to stick around and have some heart-to-heart with a stranger that was apparently meant for him. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.

“Thank you,” James said swiftly. Without another word, he took off back down the street.

Dean didn’t bother to watch him go. He had a barstool waiting with his name on it.

Sam will laugh himself silly once Dean tells him his perfect match wound up being some corporate suit. Dean once told him he’d rather microwave his own head than set foot in an office cubicle.

Sammy was the big soulmate skeptic in the family. He found his non-timer approved other half while he was protesting an illegal dismissal of a disabled employee. Three years later, when Sam bumped into Gabriel Crawford in a strip club at midnight on Dean’s birthday, he discovered Gabe was perfectly happy to let Sam live his apple pie life while Gabe continued to party like it was 1999.

Gabe made Sam promise to look him up if Eileen was ever down for a threesome.

Turned out, Eileen was.

Sam most certainly was not.

He still sends Gabe a card for the holidays, and usually Gabe sends him back candy samples from wherever he’s vacationing for the winter.

But everyone else Dean knew bought into the soulmates game, hook, line, and sinker. His parents were soulmates. Benny and Garth both settled down with theirs. Charlie and Aaron were holding out for theirs. Hell, even Jo had her weird thing with Bela Talbot.

Dean would’ve counted himself among their number - until he met Cas.

Well, until Cas messaged him on Bobby’s new ask-a-mechanic feature on the garage’s website. Cas had inherited a banged up 1967 Mustang and had no idea where to start with restoration. Apparently Gabe of all people was staying with Cas at his place in southern California, and he recommended Dean.

Why Cas couldn’t just look up a local place still baffles Dean to this day, but he has never been more grateful for Cas’s weird-ass logic.

Their relationship had stayed strictly professional until Cas’s actual car broke down on some random highway in California. Dean had tried to talk Cas through the repair himself, but it was no use. Cas either didn’t have the equipment for the fix, or Dean didn’t diagnose the right problem. Dean was about to hang up, when Cas had asked, clearly embarrassed, “Would you please stay on the line? I have this irrational fear of being murdered in the middle of nowhere where nobody can find my body for proper rites.”

Dean, almost surprising himself, didn’t laugh. Instead, he said, “Sure thing. Wanna put me on hold while you get in touch with Triple A?”

He spent an hour and a half on the phone with Cas, telling him stupid stories about the worst things people have done with their cars.

In return, Cas told him all about the stars that were just coming out in the darkening desert sky.

The week after, Bobby’s garage received a gift certificate in the mail. It was for a weeklong stay at the Chicago location of the five-star hotel chain Cas works for, in Dean’s name.

Those little chocolates on the pillows ruined Dean for motels everywhere.

At the bar, Dean signals the bartender for a refill. He glares down at his phone. The little rectangle contains his entire history with Cas, call logs, text receipts, everything.

He can’t look at it any longer. He shoves it in his pocket, and the receipt with his soulmate’s phone number crinkles in protest. With a sigh, Dean takes out the flimsy piece of paper.

James’s handwriting is neat, so Dean doesn’t even have the excuse of not being able to read a digit or two.

Maybe Dean will give him a call after his drink with Cas. Hopefully, once James finds out that Dean’s just a mechanic, lives in a shoebox apartment in Bucktown, and has never been to Aspen or the Alps, he’ll tell Dean to take a hike.

Dean flips the receipt over, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. In pretentious curlicue lettering, the first words Dean reads are, The Nine Spheres.

James is staying at Cas’s hotel.

Fucking great. Dean crumples the receipt and shoves it back in his pocket. With his luck, James will probably want to meet in the restaurant on the first floor, the fancy-ass place with the steakhouse burger and truffle fries Dean would actually sell his soul for.

Dean actually dreamed about that burger, a few months after his Cas-sponsored stay. When he told Cas about it, Cas let out a bark of laughter.

In the next breath, though, he told Dean he does the same when he’s scoping out a new location and can’t stay at a nearby Nine Spheres.

Dean tips back his glass of whiskey. It’s stopped burning on the way down his throat, a good sign.

He was so stupid, thinking he could fuck with destiny, fate, or whatever shitty power up there decides soulmates.

Once Cas told him about his business trip to his neck of the woods, Dean had taken one look at the numbers on his arm counting down and did the math. He would meet his soulmate smack dab in the middle of Cas’s window in Chicago.

He could make Cas be his soulmate. Cas never brought up his timer, if it was still ticking, if he’d already met his other half. And Dean, coward that he was, never asked. If he didn’t know for sure, then there was that slim, slim chance that theirs matched up after all.

But no, Cas had to go and switch up their meeting time at the last second, and Dean had run into James instead.

His pocket buzzes with a new text. Mood lower than Cas’s voice register, Dean slides his phone out.

Cas 4:38 My meeting is over. Should I still meet you at the same place?

Dean 4:39 Yeah Hope its okay I got started without you

Cas 4:40 More than okay, considering my scheduling difficulties.

Dean 4:40 See you soon

Dean sighs and drains his glass.

Foot jiggling on the barstool and eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him, Dean deliberately does not look around as the door opens.

And opens again.

And again.

Confused and irritated, Dean takes another look around. Above the bar, a chalkboard clearly proclaims Happy Hour from 4:30-6:30 PM. Dean ducks his head, scowling into the remains of his drink. He probably overlooked the sign before because of his single-minded quest to get shitfaced like a freshly-dumped senior at prom stuck next to the spiked punch bowl.

His phone obnoxiously tells him it’s 4:43.

That’s just great. Dean hops off the stool, meaning to ask the hostess if anyone’s asked for Winchester, when James pushes open the door.

Dean stops dead in his tracks.

James freezes, his eyes going wide. His trench coat swishes ominously to a stop.

Should Dean turn around? Pretend he didn’t see? Cas is going to be here any second.

Before he can make up his mind, James is walking towards him. “Hello,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

Dean swallows. “Me neither,” he says honestly.

James scans the small crowd now gathered around the bar, brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Dean lets out a silent exhale of relief. He musters up a weak smile. “No problem, man. I’ll leave you to it.” As he turns back around, James steps up to the hostess stand.

James says, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the din, “I’m a bit late, but is there a reservation for Winchester? For 4:30?”

Dean could not possibly have heard what he thinks he did. But the timing is right - for once. He spins around, practically losing his balance thanks to the booze he already drank.

The hostess scans her sheet of names, shaking her head. “There was a reservation for Winchester at four PM, but that’s it.”

James’s face falls. Shoulders slumping, he pulls out his phone, squinting as the screen lights up. “He said he was here,” he mutters.

He can’t be Cas. That would be crazy - like, dingo ate my baby, crazy.

“Could be at the bar,” the hostess says flippantly, tilting her head to the crowded area. “Most of ‘em don’t check in.”

James’s lips press together. “Thank you,” he says to the hostess, his tone clipped. “I’ll wait there.”

Dean steps in front of him before James can get lost in the throng of people. “I heard you’re lookin’ for me,” he says with a confidence that’s only 99% bullshit.

James blinks. “You?”

“Dean Winchester, at your service,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Dean,” he echoes, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s body, drinking him in with his new eyes.

“Gotta say,” Dean drawls as his heart pounds with nerves. Doubt niggles at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t scratch, but he’s already made his memory foam bed. Might as well lie in it. “Cas is the weirdest nickname for James that I’ve ever heard.”

“My full name is James Castiel Novak,” Cas says, flushing. “James - that’s what I go by professionally. My family calls me Castiel.”

Dean can’t hold back his broad grin. “Family, eh?”

Cas’s expression takes a swift dive from embarrassed to mortified. “And friends,” he tacks on. He takes a step closer, staring at Dean’s face in wonder. “But you’re also my soulmate.”

Dean laughs giddily. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t beat around the bush. Not your style.” He jerks his head towards the bar. “I think I see an open seat. You wanna have that talk now?”

Cas hesitates. “Would you like to go to Nine Spheres instead? I’ve had business dinners every evening I’ve been in Chicago so far, and, while the food has been good-”

“It’s not the steakhouse burger?” Dean finishes for him.

The corners of Cas’s mouth turn down into a slight grimace. “Last night, a client treated us to tapas. I woke up starving.”

Dean smiles. “You know I’m always down for that burger.”

“Excellent,” Cas says with relish as he pushes open the door.

They walk onto the street, and it’s almost offensively quiet after the noise of the bar. It’s a balmy Spring evening, the sun still relatively high in the sky.

“You don’t seem disappointed anymore,” Cas says out of nowhere as they reach the end of the block.

So Cas caught on to that, back when they first ran into each other. Dean shrugs. “I just got stood up by the guy I’d specially set up to meet me at 4:01. Wouldn’t you be?”

Cas clears his throat, asking hoarsely, “You wanted it to be me?”

Dean throws him a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Cas just shrugs. The light changes, and they step off the curb.

“Were you… disappointed?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Cas lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I didn’t even think - well,” he falters, casting a sidelong look at Dean, “I’m not disappointed. Believe me.”

The automatic doors to Nine Spheres open, hitting them with a burst of perfectly conditioned air. Dean hasn’t stepped foot in the hotel since Cas paid for his stay, but it hasn’t changed one bit. The same tiered giant chandelier glitters overhead. Giant pillars bracket the concierge desk to the left and the enormous staircase to the right that leads up to the second floor rooms. The tiled floor, so polished Dean can practically see his reflection, stretches the length of the lobby.

Dean sticks out like a flannel-wearing sore thumb. “Cas,” he hisses, “hold on. I don’t think I’m dressed right for this place.”

Cas sucks in a breath. “No,” he says as Dean’s heart sinks, “I suppose not.” He jerks his head towards the elevator bay. “Room service?”

Dean blinks.

“I’ve called for the burgers on several occasions at other locations,” Cas assures him. “It tastes as good.”

Was Cas actually trying to convince him to go up to his room? What a dumbass. Dean laughs.

Cas colors, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Forget it,” he mutters. “We don’t-”

“You know, if you invite me up to your room,” Dean cuts him off, “you’re going to have a bitch of a time getting me to leave, right?”

Cas stares at him.

“Dude,” Dean says, “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice in my life. Between the food, the water pressure, and the robe that felt like I was fucking a cloud, I had enough of a hard time leaving last time.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says stiltedly. “We strive to provide the optimal experience to all our guests.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “’M saying, add you to the mix, and they’re gonna have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” Cas asks in an undertone as he pushes the up button for the elevator.

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem,” Dean says, winking.

Cas’s responding grin falls as the doors close behind them and the elevator starts moving. He shakes his head. “It’s a shame there are cameras in here.”

Dean leans in closer, whispering in his ear, “Doesn’t bother me much. Whaddya say to giving the peeping toms a show, then?”

Cas bites his lip, and this close, Dean can see how his eyes have blown black with want. “I - I can’t.”

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Dean steps back, shame filling him. That’s fine. He can regroup. Hopefully Cas will be more receptive behind closed doors. It’s not the first time this has happened, anyway.

“Dean, I have to work with these people every day,” Cas hisses, wringing his hands. “The last time an executive got… busy with a coworker in the pool, the mocking didn’t end for weeks. Not to mention her rebuke from upper management.” He throws Dean a desperate look. “I would like for you to be fully clothed by the time you meet my coworkers for the first time.”

Cas is already planning for Dean to meet his people?

The elevator dings, and Cas steps out. “Are you coming?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says quickly. As he follows Cas down the maze of rooms, he has to ask, “You were planning on introducing me to your coworkers?”

Cas’s cheeks pink. “Unless you were opposed to it,” he mutters as he stops in front of Room 1518. He sighs, making no move to insert his keycard. Instead, he lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze squarely. “I’ve put in a transfer request to Chicago.”

“What?”

“It was before I knew you were my soulmate,” Cas says quickly. “I’ve never felt like I fit in in California, and my parents live in Pontiac. The Chicago office is decently large, and, well, I knew you were here,” he says, his voice going quiet near the end. He straightens. “So there were many reasons.”

“You’re staying?” Dean says, his mouth dry.

Cas bobs a nervous nod. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

Cas touches the inside of his wrist, his expression turning almost shy. “Of course, when I first pictured introductions, it was strictly as a friend. I don’t really know anyone else in this city well, and I’ve told you about my difficulty in social situations, so it would’ve been more for moral support than anything else. But after this evening -”

Dean interrupts his rambling. “Are there cameras in the hallway?”

“What- oh,” Cas says, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before back up again. “Yes?” He points. “They’re all the way down there, though, so they can’t -”

Dean cuts him off with a heated kiss.

[softomi]

Catfish

prompt: mother says to be wary of people you meet on the internet, especially since you never know who’s on the other side of the screen. 

pairing: atsumu x reader

the unpaid extras: osamu, suna

general taglist: @graykageyama

Osamu liked to mess with his brother and lately he’s been planning the largest prank. It originally wasn’t supposed become a huge thing, but then Suna just kept edging him on; adding more things one by one and it just spiraled. Osamu was catfishing Atsumu with your pictures.

Now, Osamu knows that it sounds bad but technically you were in on the prank. You had never met nor even knew Atsumu, heck, you didn’t even know who Osamu was. You had been part of the prank merely through text messages and the occasional meet up with Suna.

To put it simply, Suna met you through one of his teammates; coincidentally you ended up in one of his classes and the two of you built a tiny friendship. Which was why, when Suna was thinking of the perfect person to catfish Atsumu with; your face lit up in his head.

You were the perfect candidate, exactly Atsumu’s type literally to a tee. When Suna pulled up your contact, the first thing he did was offer to pay you. Every picture you sent used for the prank, he’ll send you cash through an app and as a broke college student who needed cash fast, you agreed as long as the photos weren’t used for anything weird or sexual. He made sure to send you proof of each photo in use.

This brings it all back to dear Osamu catfishing his brother. He had created an entirely new Instagram for you, complete using your name and a cute description that him and Suna had spent two hours thinking of. They decided to even spend a few days perfecting it, posting pictures a few days apart with captions, following random groups, liking posts, essentially creating a whole new personality using your photos. Osamu had even developed a fake occupation for you; a foodie blogger to which some posts were dedicated to food reviews for restaurants Osamu deemed worthy of a post.

And when Osamu says that the prank spiraled; it fucking spiraled. Originally it started with Suna and Osamu following the account, suddenly Suna’s teammates began following the account. Osamu made the mistake of tagging Onigirl Miya in one of your photos, ultimately adding a few random people to follow the account. Suddenly after two weeks of having the account, you gained over two thousand follows.

It was no worries though, because Osamu can quickly catfish Atsumu, take down the account, and call it all good.

Safe to say, Atsumu accepted the friend request rather quickly. Osamu and Suna snicker to themselves, it took Atsumu less than five minutes to accept and he was already liking all of your photos. Not even ten minutes pass and he’s sliding into the DM’s.

The two men looking at the phone and burst into laughter. They spend five minutes cackling at Atsumu’s random ‘hey’ message that followed with a smiling emoji.

Osamu was absolutely entertained, it was hilarious that his own brother had fallen for his catfish and honestly, Osamu was ready to give up the act after three days but then Atsumu said something that just really pissed him off. He doesn’t remember what it was, he just suddenly ended up two more weeks later still having the fake Instagram account and still having Atsumu believe that he was falling in love with some girl.

Somehow the account ended up with over five thousand followers, Atsumu messages the account religiously, and Osamu for some godly reason is still managing the account three months later. It’s spiraled.

“I have a girlfriend!” Atsumu doesn’t know why his friend and brother are laughing. He’s scrolling through your Instagram, the catfish Instagram.

Osamu almost chokes on his food, “So what, have you guys gone on a date? Have you even seen her in real life?” Suna snorts into his drink, he coughs when he accidentally inhales the water sharply.

Atsumu slumps in his seat, his voice small, “No, but we talk every day and she likes me!”

Suna is coughing even harder now, tears threatening to leave his eyes to the point that he excuses himself to the bathroom. Osamu has a shit eating grin on his face, “How do you know she’s actually not some old dude catfishing you?”

“She’s not!” Atsumu stutters, “She’s real!”

“Prove it.”

Osamu was about to learn a harsh lesson about the world; the world loves to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

Atsumu leans forward, an eerie grin on his lips, “Happily.” Atsumu whips out his phone, quickly presses a number and holds the phone to his ear. He holds a finger up to his brother, even gesturing for the returning Suna to remain quiet. The phone picks up, “Hey babe, you wanna meet me here at Onigiri Miya?” Atsumu looks at the watch on his wrist, “Twenty minutes? Perfect.”

Osamu’s believing his brother is bluffing. There was no way in hell he’d be able to somehow magically bring the catfish to life, heck, Atsumu would be a god if suddenly he could. Thirty minutes pass, Osamu is exchanging looks with Suna. It’s absolutely silent between the three.

Osamu is suddenly feeling guilty, Suna is uncomfortable to the point that he’s even texting you to make sure you weren’t actually coming, and you confirmed with him that you weren’t.

“Should we tell him?” Osamu whispers when another five minutes pass.

Suna is deadpanned, “I don’t know, we’re kind of reaching a sad territory now. Let’s just break up with him and ghost him.”

Osamu groans, “But do we want to deal with a sad Atsumu, I’ll take getting my ass kicked over him crying in my apartment.”

The door chimes and their jaws smack the floor. You walked through the door, eyes roaming the place before landing on the three huddled into the corner. Is he a fucking god? Atsumu stands from his seat, he meets you halfway, pulling you into a heartfelt kiss that has you swooning.

The closer you approach with Atsumu’s arm around your shoulder, the more they truly begin to believe that Atsumu is a god.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend.” This time it’s Atsumu who has a shit-eating grin, “Ain’t she a beauty, the pictures don’t do her justice.”

It takes everything in Osamu to not scream, “But, you said you’d never even met her before.”

Atsumu gazes into your eyes, hearts practically floating above his head, “I mean I guess technically this is our first-time meeting, right?”

You nod, a puppy like expression on your face, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. You must be Osamu.” You point to him then your fingers drag to the other male, “Suna.”

“Oh.” Suna sits straight up, “Oh!” He catches the glint in your eyes, the conniving little minx of a look. Suna was no longer calm, “We’ve been double crossed!”

There’s screaming, fingers are being pointed at each other, Atsumu is gripping Osamu by the neck of his shirt, Suna is literally calling your phone to make sure that it’s actually you, Osamu is pulling his brother’s hair. The customers of the restaurant stare with their jaws dropped at the scene.

Everyone is squished into Osamu’s small office. Suna is sitting on the desktop, Osamu in his chair, Atsumu in the spare seat, and you lean on the arm of Atsumu’s chair. His arm dangles around your waist, pulling you to lean on him with a cheery grin.

Atsumu leans forward, taking in the expressions of the two bewildered boys, “I guess let’s start at the beginning.”

While the story technically began three months ago with Suna asking for your cooperation, the story of you and Atsumu began two months ago.

The extra cash from all the pictures you sent Suna was giving you enough to be able to go out and live a little on the weekends. Originally the bar was dead, you and your friends were tucked into the corner in a booth when a rowdy bunch of men came in. Your friends gasped having recognize them as members of a sports team and with their excitement, they must have won a game.

It didn’t affect your group that much until it came to split ways; being in your last year of university, you excused yourself, insisting that you needed to go home to finish a project. As you stood at the register, card tapping against the counter, that was when he showed up.

At this point, Atsumu had spent the past hour believing the gods were on his side. He practically walked by your table ten times just to make sure the face matched the one in his instagram’s DM. After forty minutes of the constant back and forth, your quick gazes at him walking by the table seem to do nothing. Were you unable to recognize him?

He took his shot watching you stand alone at the counter. He finishes off his drink and smoothly strides to you.

“Hey!” Atsumu leans on the counter, flashing a smile despite alcohol dripping from the side of his mouth, “Wouldn’t you consider this fate?” He gestures between the both of you.

You’re confused, shooting him a puzzled gaze, “Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.” You hand the card to the worker, anxiously eyeing the male who’s increasingly invading your space.

Atsumu places a hand on the small of your back, it was something Instagram you had mentioned you liked, instead it triggered a fight or flight. Your hand makes harsh contact with his cheek, he retracts his hand immediately.

“Don’t touch me!” You bark at him, “Perv.” You’re aggressively signing the receipt, storming out of the door while other men seem to ooh at Atsumu’s situation.

“Hey!” Atsumu catches your figure outside of the bar, you’re waving a hand to catch a cab, “I think we got off on the wrong foot there.”

You don’t give him a second glance, “Look, I don’t know who you think you are.”

“Atsumu.” He stands right in front of you, blocking your sights for a cab. He’s got the widest smile on his face as he holds out a hand, “Miya Atsumu. Volleyball player. Setter for the Black Jackals.”

“Okay.” You run a hand through your hair, oddly taking his hand into a shake while eyeing him, “Miya Atsumu, volleyball player, setter for the Black Jackals.”

You step to the side, arm out still trying to catch a taxi but he blocks your way once more and he looks at you with such wonder. His eyes practically having stars coming out and his smile warm and inviting. He was wondering if you were a twin, maybe he had actually gotten the wrong person.

“You are?”

The wind is causing your hair to blow in your face, he wants to so bad to brush the strands behind your ears but the way you gave him a slap earlier makes him think that’s a bad idea. Your fingers pull your hair back, “Y/n. I don’t have a fancy title like yours but, I guess I don’t know, senior to be graduating at the university.” You sidestep him once more, “I’m just trying to catch a cab home.”

Once more he blocks your way and you look at him with defeat. He was persistent. He laughs, “Sorry, last time, but do you not know me?”

You’re still as confused as ever, “Look if you’re going to pull some cheesy line about seeing me before, it’s not going to work.”

“Wait, just hold on a second.” Atsumu pulls out his phone, his fingers are shaking as he presses onto the app. He pulls up your profile, handing you his cell phone, “This is you isn’t it?!”

Your eyes scan the social media page, your mouth falling open, there’s a hidden laugh itching in your throat. These were all the picture you had taken for Suna and somehow, you’re being shown by a stranger your fake profile.

“We’ve been messaging for like a month, I can’t believe you don’t recognize me.”

I don’t recognize you because I’m not the one talking to you.

You’re perplexed, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, if you told him he’s being catfished you’d lose the flow of side cash you’ve developed but if you didn’t, isn’t that just wrong. And the more you look at him from under the stars, he’s rather cute; you suddenly feel bad for slapping his face earlier.

“Do you want to get some coffee?”

Your offer sends him over the moon, he’s walking alongside you to the nearest convenience; Atsumu is rather talkative, bringing up topics of everything and anything that comes to his mind. As the two of you look over drink options in the cooler, his hands pull two cans of black coffee.

“You’re favorite right?” He holds one out to you.

Your actively smiling, biting your lower lip and wondering if you needed to play along with the role but as he stares at you with such adoring eyes, it makes your heart skip a beat just taking in the fact that he would remember something trivial over text.

“Actually.” You place the drink back, opting for a sweeter caramel macchiato, “I would say that this is my favorite.”

Atsumu quirks a brow, “Are you saying you were lying to me?” He places a hand over his heart, “And here I thought we were soulmates.”

Your hand smacks against his arm, “Shut up.”

“So what are you studying for?” Atsumu sips his drink, the two of you leaning against the windows of the convenience store. There’s a slight sway in his body and you’ve unknowingly followed his movements.

“Literature. Once I graduate, an internship is probably where I’ll start but I’m hoping I can get hired into a publishing company.” He’s comfortable to be with and you aren’t sure if it’s because he thinks he knows you or because his presence is just like that; comfortable.

Atsumu finishes off his canned beverage, “And you do that, all on top of running a foodie Instagram.”

From what you gathered on a quick skim of the account; they have your occupation as a lower level food blog; it’s rather funny. You can only nod to him, “It’s just a side hobby really.”

“Well maybe I could join you on one of your little adventures.”

You try to suppress the immense grin that wants to grow on your lips, there’s an internal battle happening of whether you should tell him or not but once again, the way he looks at you, the cute doe eyed look; it puts butterflies in your stomach.

“How about tomorrow?” He lets out a small gasp, your hands pull out your cell phone and offer it to him, “Your number?”

“I’m free for lunch, just text me when and where.”

You press the number he’s inserted into his contact; in a second his cell rings and he’s showing off his screen, “Don’t message me on Instagram though, I’m detoxing from social media for a bit. Just, text my number.”

He walks you to the curb, helping you flag down a cab, and you give him one last gleeful glance before getting into the car. As you sit, you’re quick to dial Suna’s number. You know he’s probably sleeping but the light feeling in your heart overrides his sleep schedule.

“What?” He’s groaning.

“Suna listen to me carefully. The prank that you guys are doing.” You hear a small snore, “Suna!” He jolts awake and you groan, “You know what, go back to sleep.”

“Thanks.” He hangs up immediately.

Your phone dings, Atsumu’s name pops up. Can’t wait for our date. You bite on your thumb, a smile on you before you respond.

Although having just seen him forty minutes ago, you two text back and forth. First he wondered if you arrived home safe, next he sent pictures of himself insisting it’s for you to choose for his icon, then he proceeds to narrate his way home. You wonder if you’re responding like catfish you but the more he brings up random topics, the more you forget about that stupid prank.

Wait let me call you.

Your heart beats faster, your phone lighting up with his name. You press the answer button slowly, “Hello?” You giggle.

“You’re telling me that you like spikers more than setters.” His voice is nearly screaming and you lean back on your chair laughing into the phone.

The quick research you did on his team had you watching short videos, and while you had to admit it was amazing to watch, your eyes drifted more to one of his teammates than him, “What’s his name?” You lean to look at your computer screen, “Bokuto Koutarou?”

“No!” He’s whining out into the air, “If I had known you were a spiker girl I would have changed positions.”

Your eyes catch the time on your laptop, “Woah. It’s three in the morning.” That meant you had spent over four hours total texting him and now you were on the phone with him, “What are you doing awake?”

He blows out a breath of air, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well.” You draw out the word, dragging your self to your bed, “I’m going to go to sleep now.” There’s a pause on the line, “Atsumu?” He hums tiredly, “Good night.”

There’s a small snore from him before he shifts around, “Good night.”

The morning light urges you awake, for a second you peak at your phone’s time and it nears ten in the morning. You’re about to throw your phone back onto the bedside table until Atsumu’s name catches your eye. For having gone to bed at three a.m. he shot you a text at seven.

Morning beautiful.

It was sweet, simple, and it made you smile; giving you the extra push to get out of bed. You stalked your own catfish page, there hadn’t seemed to be any updates so there was still time. A quick search of the internet has you picking out a random restaurant nearby and you send off a text to Atsumu about a meeting time.

You were late, pushing through the doors of the restaurant, your eyes scan the place to see him raise a hand for you. He’s dashingly handsome despite being in casual wear, you wonder if he spent time like you did just trying to pick out an outfit or if he spent forever gelling his hair as long as you tried to get your strands into the perfect waves.

“Sorry, did you wait long?” You pull into the seat in front of him.

He’s smiling and you hope to god that when you break the news to him, he’ll still smile for you, “I just got here not too long ago too.” He looks over the menu quickly, “What do you think you’ll get?”

You inspect each dish, a light hum on you as you dance around the option, “The spaghetti sounds nice.”

Atsumu tilts his head, “It has red meat in it.” You stare blankly at him, “Aren’t you allergic to red meat?”

“Oh.” You set the menu down, “Actually.” He follows your actions, you’ve become nervous at what you’re suddenly about to do, “There’s something you should know.”

“Fuck this!” Atsumu throws the napkin on the table, you jump as he harshly stands, throwing the chair back.

“Atsumu.” You stand.

“No! Don’t. Were you just messing with me then? Did Osamu tell you I was going to be at the bar last night?” Atsumu’s fist ball, “You know what, whatever.”

“Wait.” You follow him behind, “Atsumu. I’m sorry.”

He harshly turns to you, god, even in sunlight you were beautiful to him. He wants to laugh, the month he spent talking to the fake you; yeah that was all bullshit to him but honestly when he saw you last night, when he spent over four hours actually talking to you; he actually felt that maybe this could be something deeper.

“I’m really sorry, I know I should have said something right away.” You have a soft pout on you and it makes him outwardly groan.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Okay, it’s fine. I probably deserved this prank too anyways; must have pissed him off somehow.” He waves a hand, “You can just go back to doing whatever.”

Your hand pulls on his wrist, “I owe you a meal.” You bat your eyes with a cheeky grin, “If you take pictures of me, we can send them to Suna and use the money for our food.”

“Oh.” He begins to smile, “I like that idea.”

Back into Osamu’s office, Atsumu has now pulled you onto his lap, your head resting on his shoulder with arms hanging around his shoulders. The two bachelors stare at the sickly loving sight.

A lightbulb goes off in Suna’s head, “Wait! My money!”

You snort a laugh into Atsumu’s shoulder, “Hey, I earned that fair and square. You paid for goods.”

Osamu is having a staring contest with his brother, “So you two have been actually dating for two months? Why would you still message the catfish account then, why not just kick my ass when you found out?”

Atsumu taps a finger on his chin, “Well, I was just originally going to ghost you guys but then babe here and I discovered that we could fund all of our dates with Suna’s money. We even started setting aside leftover cash from our dates to plan a trip.”

You giggle, “We’re going to Disney next weekend.”

“All the pictures.” Suna whispers.

There’s an amused hum in your throat, “Honestly I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out. We were dropping hints in the photos.”

Indeed, the two males looked at the pictures you sent them. If they backtracked to two months ago, there wouldn’t be any hints but the closer they get to the present; it was painfully obvious. They were just too caught up in their excitement to even notice. In one photo, part of Atsumu’s shoulder and hair was just barely in the picture; another had his reflection vividly displayed in the window of the restaurant, and somehow Osamu and Suna missed the obvious Black Jackals jacket sitting on the back of the chair next to you.

The two boys were having a mental breakdown.

You shifted on Atsumu’s lap, leaning forward to tap against the top of Osamu’s phone, “Now, if you’d please deactivate the account since this whole charade is over.”

Osamu ended up not deleting the account. He set the account to private because seeing how his brother was so deeply entranced by you, Osamu had a feeling this one was going to last and he was right; on Atsumu’s wedding day, his little best-man speech had him whipping out the catfish Instagram to display on the monitor for everyone to see.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader

So, back in the day I wrote this story on Quotev. And it was one of my first stories that got into the popular section and I am really proud of it. The only problem is.... It was written in 2013, uber cringe-ville. If you wanna try to find it, be my guest but be warned: the main character is an OC, she has “I’m NoT lIkE oThEr GiRlS” syndrome and there are some weird ass love lines added in. So, I am reviving and rebranding that story so it may live a better life, like witness protection. Anyway, hope you enjoy

* I wrote it in first person just because I thought it would be easier to read

(Y/N)’s family is killed in a fire that seems to plague Beacon Hills, moving in with the Stilinski’s was bound to cause hijinks, but what happens when she gets involved with the the illusive Derek Hale?

TW: Kidnapping, some violence

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At first glance Beacon Hills seems like the perfect community. It wasn’t until later that I would realize that everything I ever knew was a lie. 

~

I slowly slipped out of the front door and locked it behind me. Sneaking out wasn’t my usual schtick, but it was the last day of summer and for the first time I was going to live a little before starting to work at the Highschool as a volunteer coach for the lacrosse team. It was my first time ever sneaking out and just the idea of it made my heart pound, but the anxiety turned to adrenaline as I made my way out without either of my parents noticing. They were both incredibly heavy sleepers, there could be a parade outside their door and they wouldn’t wake up. 

The party would mostly consist of most of the men’s and women’s lacrosse teams, and what would a lacrosse party be like without the team captain?

Walking down the sidewalk, I thought more about college. UCLA was a choice, or a community college too. Most kids would have gone straight after graduation, but I decided a year off would be good for me to de-stress. But honestly, I was just more afraid of the change. That and leaving my best friend, Stiles, behind was a little hard to fathom. We had known each other our whole lives. Another thing was…would he be okay? After losing his mom… who knows. But then there was also Michael. Michael was my boyfriend, and I loved being with him for the last four years. He really hadn’t mentioned plans for college, just working in the family business. What the family business was, I never knew. 

About a block down the road is when I heard the howl. My instincts first go to fear, wolf in the darkness. But then logic comes in, there had not been wolves in California for decades. It was probably the neighbors husky. 

The autumn chill had no mercy, whipping my hair into my eyes, I stopped on the corner of Fifth and Main, pulling my jacket closer and waited for the wind to pass. When it did, the figure in front of me made me gasp. But the shock subsided soon after. 

“Mikey,” I sighed in relief, “Why’d ya sneak up on me like that? Almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you.” He smiled. Ominous certainly, but this was probably just another one of his pranks. 

“I guess so, I thought you said you weren’t going to the party.” 

“We’re not.” That’s when a chill ran up my spine. Something wasn’t right, he wasn’t acting like himself. His goofy smile was gone and replaced by a dark looming presence that I wasn’t comfortable with. It was like he was a completely different person. I took a slow step back. 

“Come on, this isn’t funny.” He said nothing, only matching my step going forward. 

“Michael.” With every step I took back, he took one forward, matching my increasing pace. With no other choice in mind, I chose to run. But as my back was turned, he grabbed me by my middle with one arm and pressed a cloth to my mouth with the other. Without thinking, I breathed in, the chemicals in the cloth slowly numbing my senses and my body. I tried to fight the darkness entering my vision, but it was no use. I was done to my knees, Michael right behind me. 

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” Were the last words I heard before the darkness took over. 

~

“Sweetie, time to get up.” My mother’s voice rang in my ears. 

“C’mon mom five more minutes…” I grumbled. 

“(Y/N), you need to wake up.” Her voice is more urgent. I finally opened my eyes, seeing my mother, her body engulfed in flames. 

“Wake up!” 

My body jerked as I woke up, leading to soreness in my arms and legs as a few things became clear: 

1. I was tied to a chair, and 

2. I didn’t know where I was. 

The events from last night slowly started coming back and nothing made any sense. Michael had never been controlling or abusive. Was I so blinded by the relationship that I hadn’t seen the signs? No, there were no signs. As far as I knew, Michael had no history of mental illness so something like dissociative identity disorder didn’t make sense and it wouldn’t explain the behavior either. 

There was a bandana tied around my head, keeping me from any sort of speech. From the layout of the place, it looked like an apartment Michael had, but everything was different. There was a tack board hanging in the living room with so many pictures of myself and my parents, shots that looked like they were taken without us knowing. There were scrawlings but they were too scribble-like to make out. 

The door opening brought my head to look towards the source. Michael walked in, shoving his phone into his back pocket. 

“Well good afternoon, sleepy head.” He closed the door behind him and made his way over to the chair I was bound to. 

“Alright, I’m gonna take the gag out but you can’t scream.” He smiled. 

I nodded along. With one hand, he pulled the gag from my mouth. 

“HELP! HELP ME!” I cried, hoping one of his neighbors would hear and call the police. 

“Shut up!” He slapped me across the face, the stinging pain only added to my screaming for help. 

“I said shut up!” He pulled a knife from his pocket, pressing the tip of the blade against my cheek. This new threat silences me, leaving me breathing heavily through my nose, tears making their way down my cheeks. 

“See, was that so hard?” He stood up and made his way across the room to the box TV on his floor, “I’m sorry for the mess, but with all my planning I hadn’t had a chance. I’ve been planning a big surprise and it’s finally done.” I didn’t speak, only continued to watch his movements. 

“I figure, even if you didn’t listen, you can still have your surprise.” He pressed the round power button on the screen and it fizzled to life. 

“-the same arsonist on the loose? Coming back to breaking news, the second house fire in six years occurred in the early morning today. Firefighters were called out to the residence of (Y/D/N) and (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) where their home had gone up in flames.” There was footage of my home up in flames, streams of water coming from the firemen below. “ Both (Y/D/N) and (Y/M/N) were found dead, seemingly from being crushed by a falling support beam in their basement. Their daughter, (Y/N), has not been found and is considered missing. If you have any information on her please call Beacon Hills police.” My photo came up on the screen. 

My heart sunk into my stomach and my throat ached to scream and sob. Michael turned off the TV then and looked down at me. 

“I’m surprised they found the bodies with how hot it was.” He said nonchalantly.

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered. My parents were the nicest people in the world and treated Michael like he was a part of the family, why would he do this?  

”Don’t worry, (Y/N/N). It’s all a part of the plan.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“I’m gonna head to bed, been out all night. I’ll see you in a couple hours.” He made his way to her bedroom and closed the door behind him. 

Finally, I completely broke down. Silent cries poured out. My parents were just gone in a puff of smoke. And all at the hands of someone we trusted. Someone that I trusted more than anything. 

After the grief quickly came anger. I don’t know how or when, but I am getting the hell out of here.

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Read part 2 here!

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Message me comment to to added to the General Tag or the tag list for this series!

[elocinnicole]

Butterflies – Part Three

Pairing: Collin Hoskins x Black!Reader

Rating: M for Language and Death

Tagging: @ohsoverykeri

Part One Part Two Part Three

You spent most of the day in your room not wanting to be around Collin. This isn’t the first time you and Collin got into a fight. The last time you could recall, was when he first went to jail and he was complaining about his mom not coming to see him.

A Year Ago

You played with your fingers waiting to see Collin, he’s been locked up for almost a month and the people who came to see him regularly were Miles and yourself. Of course, Val didn’t come but the past couple of times you came to see Collin you would ask his Mom to come along. At first, she would agree but then when it came to the day of she would cancel.

“You got one hour.” You heard the gruff voice of the CO. Collin was escorted to your table, you offered him a small smile which he returned, having been his friend for almost twenty years you knew something was troubling him.

“How you been, Y/N?” Collin pulled you in for a hug, you smiled into the embrace, Even though you saw him last week, it was hard visiting your friend in prison.

“I’ve been good, Collin.”

“That’s enough!” A booming voice barked, Collin rolled eyes and the two of you pulled away. Collin saw the bags of chips on the table and his eyes lit up

“You got some for little old me?” He teased

“Shut up, I only did it because your Mom asked me to.”

“You talked to my Mom?” He asked, you looked at him with sad eyes. The last time you came to visit him, Ms. Nancy had told Collin that she would come to visit with you

“Yeah, uh I know she said she was gonna come with me today, but she wasn’t feeling good this morning…” Collin slowly nodded his head

“Collin—”

“Y/N, I don’t know how she can’t come and see me. I’m her son, Y/N! I’ve been in here for a month and she still hasn’t come to see me. Don’t she miss me?” Collin asked his voice growing loud

“Of course she does, she said she misses you all the time.

“Oh yeah?”

“She said it’s too hard for her.”

“It’s too hard for her?!”

“Hey! Keep it down Hoskins!”

“How do you think I feel? I’m the one that’s locked up!” Collin asked in a loud whisper

“Yeah, over some dumb shit.”

“Oh really? So you been talkin’ to Val?”

“Collin, don’t go there!” You were hoping that this would be a good visit but as time went on you were getting increasingly irritated with your friend.

“How do you think I feel when my Mom won’t come to see me?”

“How do you think she feels? Who do you think called her when you got your ass arrested? Did you know she put a second mortgage on the house to try and bail you out? When I told her that you got arrested the first thing she asked me was did they shoot you? Collin every time I see her or call her on the phone, she cries, the entire time, for you. So, before you get mad think about why she may not want to see her son in handcuffs.”

“Alright, visiting time’s over.” Collin’s CO said and before you knew it they were escorting Collin away from you…again.

You were finishing up a wig for a client when your phone ringed and you saw a text message from Trevon,

You went back to your wig when another text came through, this time from Janelle

The sound of your door creaking open made you look up, you saw Collin slowly entering your room holding a plate of nachos. You tried hard not to smile, nachos were your favorite food to eat. You and Colin would eat them all the time when you were in high school. “Figured you were hungry,” Collin said sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I am, thanks.” You said grabbing the plate of nachos and placing them on your nightstand and joining Collin on your bed. As much as you wanted to discuss your argument from earlier there was an even bigger elephant in the room.

“We need to talk, Collin,” You started

“I’m sorry for not asking about Val, that shit’s foul and it’s your place—”

“I don’t wanna talk about that.” Collin frowned in confusion

“We got gotta talk about the other night, because you can’t be getting mad at me when I go out on a date but I have to ‘understand’ your booty calls with Val.”

“They not booty calls,”

“Oh so what are they?”

“I’m trying to work things out with Val trying to see if we have something,” you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily

“Why do you act like you owe her something?”

“Because I do!”

“Collin, when was the last time you heard from Val other than her wanting some dick?” Collin turned his face away

“Exactly!”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You bringing all types of niggas in here!”

“First of all, no the fuck I don’t, two, it’s my house. If I wanna bring a nigga all up and through my house I can do that. Besides, it’s not niggas, I’m actually talking to someone and he’s been here once, try again.”

“I’m doing the same thing!”

“No, you’re not, you getting your dick wet just because some bitch says ‘jump’.”

“Don’t be like that Y/N, we didn’t really end things. I just want to see if there’s anything still there.”

“How many times, does Val have to tell you she don’t wanna be with you? Did she come visit you, put money on your books, did she even call your ass?”

“You don’t gotta give me a history lesson, I know all that shit,”

“Did you know she was gonna let your ass rot in that jail cell? She didn’t even want to attempt bail you out.”

“Y/N—”

“Collin, she’s not good for you. I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“What makes you think she not good for me?” You were done talking in circles with Collin, at this point, all you wanted to do was be alone.

“You know what Collin, Imma drop it because you gonna do whatever the fuck—-”

“Nah, air out, tell me why you think Val’s not good for me,”

“I’m not about to do this with you, Collin.”

“Y/N, as my friend, shit, one of my best friends, you gotta air out,”

“Janelle sent me a text—” Your phone ringing interrupted you, you almost ignored it but you saw that it was your Mom calling.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” You said before answering your phone.

“Hey, Mom—wait, wait, slow down. What’s going on?” Collin saw your face drop and instantly grew worried

“Okay, okay I’m on my way.” You ended the call, still trying to process the conversation you just had.

“What’s going on?”

“Um, I gotta get to the hospital, my dad just had a heart attack.”

You stared out the window while Collin drove the two of you to your parents house. By the time you got the hospital your mom told you that your dad was gone. Various memories of you and your Dad flashed through your mind. From learning how to ride a bike to when you graduated from cosmetology school and how your Dad treated it like it was a college graduation. That was your Dad though, he went above and beyond for every event for you and you brother no matter how small it was. Being the oldest, you were always a Daddy’s girl. Life without your Dad never really ran across your mind, of course you knew that he wouldn’t be here forever but you didn’t think that time would be now.

You laid on the twin size bed in your old teenage room, staring at the ceiling your eyes focused on the Nelly poster. If you looked at anything else in your room you would’ve broke. You’ve been doing a great job, so far, at managing your emotions, you didn’t have time to fall apart. You have to be there for your Mom, your brother, and your nephews. The bed sunk letting you know that Collin had got in the bed with you. You insisted that he sleep in your brother’s room. Even though it was still the same size bed in his room as well, you know that he would have more space rather than sharing with you. Collin could sense you were barely hanging on, he turned his body toward you, waiting for you to look at him.

“Y/N,” You ignored him, “Y/N, look at me.”

“Collin, I’m fine. We have to get some rest, we gotta get my brother and his kids from the airport early tomorrow.”

“Y/N, can you look at me? Please,”

“Collin, I’m fine. Goodnight.” You turned off the lamp and rolled to your side, hoping Collin would drop it.

The next day Collin, tried to get you to slow down but if you sensed he was trying to talk to you about your Dad you would change the subject or busy yourself with something else. Your mom made a Instagram post so you were getting calls and text messages all day, it was becoming over whelming. Luckily for you, Collin had to work that evening so you didn’t have to deal with him following your every move making sure you were okay. Your brother, Cameron, and you were now attempting to draft your Dad’s obituary.

“I don’t know why we can’t put that in there.” Cameron mumbled under his breath.

“Because, it’s not important! He only spent one semester there,”

“And? That’s where he met Mom!”

“Cam, we only have one page for this obituary, it’s not an autobiography. We can say when they met and got married, period!”

“So you just gonna cut out an important part of Dad’s life?”

“Cam, I’m not—you know what, I can’t do this. Ever since I picked you up from the airport, you’ve been fighting me with every decision. I’m going back to my place,” You huffed quickly getting your bags together.

“So you just gonna leave?”

“Yes, the hell I am.” You left your childhood home, slamming the door shut, once you were halfway down the block you realized that, you didn’t have your car. You let Collin drive it to work. The walk to your place wasn’t long but it was late, your pride hindered you from walking back to your Mom’s and facing your brother again,

“Damnit,” You pulled out your phone and called the first person you could think of. “Hey, can you give me a ride?”

“Thanks, Miles, for picking me up. I know you and Ash are busy with Shauna—”

“You fam, it’s no problem and I’m sorry about your Dad, he was like the only guy I looked up to.”

“Thanks, Miles. You remember that time he caught you skipping school?” Miles chuckled at the memory

“Yeah, I ain’t know he was following me and shit. He hopped out the car like he the muh fuckin police. Then he had my ass running back home while he drove behind me.” You laughed while Miles reminisced until he got a text from Ashely.

“Miles, go home before Ashley beats your ass.”

“Well, shit I’m waitin’ on your ass to get out my car.” You jokingly shoved your friend before getting out

“Bye, Miles!”

“Ay, when you gonna come braid my hair like Ash’s?”

“Bye, Miles!” You shook your head as Miles sped off. Once you got inside you realized that you hadn’t eaten all day. You honestly didn’t feel like cooking so decided to order something from UberEats. Nothing looked appetizing to you so you decided against it. Sitting on your sofa, glass of wine in hand, you finally had time to yourself, no one asking how you were feeling, no one calling to offer condolences, family members and friends you haven’t heard from in years were reaching out, it was too much. Finally having a moment to yourself, you felt the tears coming

“Y/N?” Collin called out, you quickly wiped your tears, not wanting him to see you cry.

“In the living room.” You called out, Collin walked with takeout boxes in hand.

“Figured you’d be hungry,” you gave him a small smile in return.

“Thanks, Collin, but I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat something—“

“I told you I’m fine, I’ve been telling everyone I’m fine all day! Damn!” You snapped

“Aight, I was just checking on you!”

“I don’t neeed anyone to check on me, I only want one person to check on me and he’s not here!” For the first time today, you finally cried. Collin sat eside you and pulled you close to him

“No amount of food, texts, or phone calls can bring him back.” You cried into Collin’s chest as he held you. You pulled away and Collin cradled your face in his hands, you leaned into the embrace. He gently grabbed your chin and before you knew it, you were kissing Collin. You were the first to pull away and Collin frowned

“What about you and Val—”

“Fuck Val,” Collin said pulling you in for another kiss.

Please let me know, if you would like to be tagged in this series.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

CALI COAST.

Filip “Chibs” Telford x Reader

Anon asked: Hiya, love your writing!! I’d like to request a chibs Imagine about a him falling for a female mechanic at TM. Thank you 😊

Word Count: 3.6k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Driving the car crane, carrying a blue sedan that you were trying to seize for three days, but the owner was such a dickhead till he finally pissed you off and you had to point him with a gun. Tig told you to do it, even if you've never fired one. His face was worth the risk of being reprimanded by Hale. Danny claps at you, when getting off of the crane, you point your new acquisition with both hands and a huge smile on the corner of your lips.

“Tada!” You say with a melodic voice, jumping one time.

“Good job, rookie”. He says urging you to high-five, giving you the ‘seized’ sticker. 

Very proud of your work, you take it to stick it on the front glass, crossing your arms after it to admire your piece of art.

“Ok, let's pull down this big guy”. Danny palms your back, ready to drop the tow and park the car with the rest.

“Ya’, man, who's that lass?” Chibs steps slow down, some meters away from you, hitting Tig's chest with his palm, actually hurting him.

“What the fuck?!” He yells rubbing himself over the kutt.

“She's (Y/N), the new Teller-Morrow mechanic”. Happy comes from nowhere, scaring both men, with no gesture in his face. “She's like a Pop Tart. Sweet and crunchy”.

“Did you already fuck her?” Tig sighs staring at him.

“No”.

“Then, how 'you know she's crunchy?”

“She broke Juice's nose yesterday”.

The men break in laughter, now understanding why his face looks like shit.

“Wha' happened?” Chibs tries to talk, starting to cough because of the loud laughs.

“She just got scared, 'cause he was behind her in silence”. Happy turns at them, narrowing on of his shoulder, making a move with his head to follow him.

The SOA president has been out of Charming for two weeks, taking care of the gun's business at southern Cali. For you, he was just traveling. The guys talked about him a lot in his absence of the club and you were pretty excited to meet him. At least, he's also your boss. So, when Tig shouts your new nickname making you turn, you go immediately with the same smile on your face.

“What's'ap, boss?” You say placing your hands behind your back, covered by the green jumpsuit of the workshop.

“The president”. He says pushing the man into you, with a singsong voice, making the scottish clicks his tongue.

“Just Chibs”. He adds, offering you a hand in somewhat formal greeting.

“Finally!” You say excited narrowing it, actually feeling a little nervous. “I'm (Y/N), but they call me ‘rookie’”.

“Rooke'”?

“Yeah, like a prospect for the club”. You explain then, getting back your hand with the own other.

“And she likes whisky”. Happy puts a forearm on one of the president's shoulder, taking off the toothbrush of his lips. 

“Really? Ya' wan' one? So ya' can tell me where did ya' come from”. The man offers then, turning an arm to the club entrance, and you obviously can't say ‘no’ even if it's ten am and you just finished the first coffee of the day. You nod in silence. 

Tig and Happy continue their way to the workshop, whilst you're walking by the scottish side with the nerves running through your whole anatomy. Everybody knows the Sons of Anarchy, everybody knows what they do even if they didn't see it. You know you don't have to be afraid, nor scared, but you can't help feeling it anyway. In a gentle gesture, the president holds the door for you, smiling slightly coming in. The club is empty, not even music is being played and it's kinda strange. Maybe they prepared before this meeting, so no one could bother you. 

Even if you have been working for the last two weeks, if Filip decides to fire you 'cause you're not what he was looking for Teller-Morrow, he can do it without needing the support of anyone. You like your job and they pay you quite well, having a very flexible schedule, and treating you like another one of the family. So losing it, it's not an option.

You can see the man turning around towards the bar, grabbing two glasses to serve a whisky from an old bottle. You can recognize it. An special edition of Blue Label of Johnnie Walker. You have never tasted before, but you heard about it. Honey and vanilla are the first nuances you can taste having a sip. Chibs is staring at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an opinion. Snapping 

“It's sweet, but bitter because of the citrics”.

“Dammet', lass!” He yells excited, hitting the bar, provoking you a chill. “Its true ya' like wheske'”.

“Yea', I... do”. You nod with pursed lips, seeing him walk towards the sofa.

Sitting there, you doubt for a second carrying a chair next to him and leaving your drink on the table, looking around for a second expecting what he wants to know.

“So tel'me. Where 'ya from, where ya' worken'... All thes' thengs'”. Chibs finally says, placing his whisky above the table, leaning towards you with his forearm supported on his lap.

“I'm from Los Angeles, my father had a workshop too, so it's family business”. You explain yourself, not sure what more you can say about your life. “When he died thr—”.

“'Am sorre'bout that”. The president holds your right hand for a while, narrowing it.

“Yea', life's things, I guess”. His touch is firm, looking at both hands sideway, before continue. “Well, ah... It was three years ago. He left me the workshop, but I was alone and I couldn't do it without help, so I had to sell it. I was working with my uncle, till I decided to move on. And... a friend told me about yours and I said... Why not? So, here I am”.

“Hm...” Chibs nods thoughtful resting his back on the sofa, moving his gaze from one side to another in nowhere.

“Listen, ah... I know it took me three days to seize that sedan, and I have no excuses, but I really like this job. I mean, work here”. You look desperate licking your lips and gesticulating more than necessary, not trying to give pity, but asking for another chance.

“Relax, rooke', I'm not gonna keck'yar ass”. His loud laughter, shaking his chin, infects you chuckling. Not sure if because you want, or because you're doing it to please him. “The bike in the backyard, is yars'?”

“It was my father's. He used to run Cali with it, till he couldn't do it anymore. But it's not working. I have to fix it”.

“You wan'me to help ye'?”

The question takes you by surprise, twisting your neck as a dog would do when he's confused. Until now, you have been doing it by yourself, even though you can take her to a workshop and not worry about it. But someone offering himself to help you it's something new. Not actually ‘someone’, but the Sons of Anarchy president. And your boss.

“Yes, yes... I mean, sure. If you have time”.

“Aye! 'Course, lass. Wha' ya' have is a fuckin' gem! Wha'bout tonigh'?”

You don't say anything, but it sounds like a date. And it doesn't surprised you by the way he had to greeting you, when you two met minutes ago. His fingers were a little shaky and you can swear that even his hand was somewhat sweaty. Finally, you nod before he could start to think that you're kinda dumb, having a sip of your whiskey.

“Ya ken'? I had one simila' when I was younga'”. He comments, seeming like the man wants to continue your talk, but doesn't knows how to do it. “I toured Scotlan' whet'et'”.

“I've never been there, but I saw it in photographs. It's an amazing country”. 

“Aye! Et'e—

Some yells outside call your attention, and you recognize the voice by heart, 'cause you have been hearing it for the last three days. Rolling your eyes and getting up, down by the scottish's gaze following you, you walk towards the workshop with a serious gesture on your face and your arms crossed above your chest. The sedan' owner is there, with Hale by his side. You're fucked. 

“She was! She was!” The blonde man is pointing at you accusatory, seeing how the sheriff rubs his eyes. “That bitch pointed me with a gun!”

“Did you?” Hale asks you with a hand resting in the butt of his own gun, hanging from his belt, and the other hanging by a side of his body.

“No, sir. I did—”.

“You, fucking liar!” The man practically jumps to you, being blocked by the SOA president, hitting him straight to his face.

Everything goes so fast that you can't even react. But the scottish is putting you behind his body, after punch the sedan' owner, with a hand thrown back slightly touching your abdomen. Hale is handcuffing him, growling and cursing at you lying on the ground by the sheriff.

“If you say anything else, I'm gonna accuse you of obstruction, do you hear me?” The cop says putting him down, starting to walk next to the car so his co-worker can sit him inside the car. “Do you want to file a complaint?”

This time is coming back towards you, with a sigh on his lips rolling his eyes. You shake your head, hiding out from Chib's back, frowning at the blonde man.

“Don' worry, sir, it's ok”. You say then.

“Tel'im fi' me that he won't get his car back”.

And without saying anything else, he turns at you placing an arm on your shoulders to urge you start to walking back to the workshop.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

When your turn is already finish, you drive back home the enough time to have a shower and changing your clothes for something more comfy taking into account the plan you are going to have. You're also trying to not think that it's a date, even if it was like it sounded. And you can't help but feeling nervous parking by a side of the yard, frowning missed when you notice the fact that there's only a bike. So, your suspicions get confirmed. Actually it's not something that bothers you, after all you've heard about him. Loyalty, strength, sincerity, self-confidence, kind and polite. And an accent pretty funny. So, why not? 

“Wha' ya' thenken'?” Chibs comes from nowhere, scaring you and making you scream. 

The man starts to laugh loud, while your face becomes rude with pursed lips and a hand on your chest trying to calm your heart beat.

“Jesus Christ...”

“Dammet, rooke', it's true ya're ease' to scare!” You sigh rolling your eyes because of his words. “Com'ere, I've alrede' brought yar' bike”.

“DaMmEt, RoOkE”. You joke on him with a high-pitched tone, whilst he's laughing louder.

“Ya' amaze me, lassie. Dinnae' know you talk scottesh'”.

“What the...?” You find yourself laughing too in a relaxed way after a long time, shaking your head with a sigh, going to the workshop illuminated by some lights.

Turning over your steps you notice that the place is practically empty, guessing that Juice took off all the cars by Chibs' petition, playing fool when you find with your gaze two cardboard boxes from your favorite burger joint. Hiding your curiosity and moving your feet next to the old Harley Davidson, you let your fingers travel over the metallic handlebar. Memories crowd your head, one on top of the other, until you collapse. You still haven't driven it, because your father kept it for almost eight years on his garage, till he left. And it doesn't need a lot of fixes, but you haven't been able to get started before. You couldn't, 'cause it's the only thing you have of him.

“When was the... fers' time ya' ride't?”

Turning to the man, finding him supporting his back against the wall with a big cup of coke in his left hand, sipping from the straw. You shrugs your shoulders, taking the other drink to imitate him with your gaze on the matt black motorbike.

“I didn', yet. Alone, I mean... But by my father's back”. You say almost in a whisper. “I was five years old. We toured Cali coast”.

“Cali coast amaze me, et's a good ferst' ride”. He says then, after some seconds in silence. “Ded'ya by night?”

“Dawn, actually”. You answer with a goofy smile on your lips and your eyes on the drink between your hands, playing with the straw. “I... remember that... my father came to my room, to wake me up saying ‘let's go, bunny, adventure time’! He was very excited”.

It's the first time in years that you're talking about him and Chibs looks pretty curious about it, but you're trying not to break your voice. Smiling sideways, you stare at the scottish man, shrugging your shoulders again, not knowing how continue.

“Why ‘bunny’?”

“I like velocity”.

“Oh, realle'? Wha' bike ded'ya have before et'?”

Your cheeks turning red and your lips pursuing second by second, containing a laugh, makes him raises both eyebrows with curiosity.

“A Vespa...?” You mutters biting the straw, while Chibs laughs again. You're starting to love his laugh, no regrets. “Ah, ah, but...! I have a Mustang, so, boom!”

Your left hand imitates the typical gesture of dropping a mic, getting up from the wall to walk towards the food with innocent air, opening one of the bags with your forefinger and having a quickly look.

“Ya'hungre?” He asks then, following your steps to grab boths bags, twisting his neck in a soft gesture to tell you without words about to have a seat.

So you do, on one of the cair placed on the front yard, next to a corner.

“So, what et' needs?”

“Brakes. I need to change them. Now it has ones that are obsolete and I was thinking to put an ABS”. Leaving your drink between your feet, you take the burger Chibs is offering you to unwrap it on your lap.

“Sounds good. Do ya' have them?”

“Yea', I bought them in LA. And I think could be good change the tires, the oil and the handlebar grips, they're a little worn”.

“Tha's'ease fo' ya'”.

“Yeah, but... I didn't want to fix it, actually?”

“Why?”

“I'm scared to have an accident or something, and destroy it. I don' have anything of my father, but his bike”. Having a bite with your gaze on him, you cover your mouth to keep talking. “So, I just... was telling... myself that I didn't have time... to fix it”.

“But we're gonna do 'et!” Chibs exclaim excitedly, opening his arms for a second and holding the burger and the beer in each hand. “I know yar' father prefers to fac'ap his bike, than keep'et in a garage with dust on 'et”.

“Yea', I think so...”.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

First, knocks on your door. Then your bell ringing. Palming the mattress till you find your phone to watch the clock, you read all the notifications in the locked screen. There are almost eleven lost calls from Chibs and a lot of messages. And it in silence. You practically jump off of your bed, running as never before to the main door, opening it.

“Finally! Jesus Christ, I thought ya' were dead!” 

“What happened? It's everything ok? Sorry, I just fell asleep an—”. You're talking so fast that your tongue ends up making a mess.

Chibs enraptured looking at you from top to down with a goofy smile on his lips, very interested in the Black Sabbath' shirt you're wearing. Clearing his throat, while your gaze travels to the dark van parked in front of your house. Tig and Juice are taking off of it your motorbike. Pushing him away from you, with your left hand on his chest, you take some steps barefoot above the cesped. You're face shows surprise and confusion, believing for a while that you're dreaming or something like that. 

One of his hands wrap your left wrist, urging you to look at him. You're legs shaking for a second. 

“Ya're prette' with messy hair and tha' shirt, but I wanna ride with ya'”. He says then, trying to hide his excitement.

And you want to hide yours, but you can't. You hug him, but not with a normal one. You're rousing and thankful, surrounding his neck with yours arms leaning on your toes. You know he wasn't expecting by the “oh” he mutters kinda surprised, taking some seconds till he finally is able to wrap your back and your waist pushing you closer into him, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Then, Chibs understands why Happy said like you're like a Pop Tart. He knows it tooks you just one second to make him fall in love with you and that the fact of worrying about your favorite take away restaurant, it wasn't only 'cause you're ‘the rookie’. 

The scottish have a deep breathe from your hair, starting to wish he hadn't, because he's falling a little more. And he can't watch his mouth.

“Ya' smell really good”. He tells you with a husky tone on his voice that bristles the skin of your arms.

“Honey and vanilla”. You mutter with pursed lips, before the man making you a gesture to come in your house.

You nod in a hurry, running back to your room looking for the perfect clothes to drive. A comfy pair of jeans, a vaporous shirt, your boots and a leather jacket. Keeping your principal stuff in a bag and grabbing your helmet, you walk towards the main door sooner as you can. The van isn't there anymore but your bike and Chib's one, close to yours, are parked on the sidewalk. He's already waiting sitting on his, turning on the engine when you're wearing the black helmet before keep the bag under the seat, the scottish stares at you with a hug smile and a dearly gesture on his face.

It has been eight years since you heard your father's Harley roaring, and feeling how your body vibrates on it it's simply amazing. You can't even describe how you feel right now, looking at Chibs with that gesture mixing incredulity and surprise. Pressing the brake, but also the gas, the back wheel squeaks without caring if you wake up your neighbors. 

“Let's go, lass!” 

You release the brake, letting your motorbike rolls above the road with a hoarse growl flying off from the engine, being followed by the scottish. He didn't tell you where you're going, but after five days talking about your childhood in Cali, it's pretty clear that he wants to ride the coast with you after seeing the emotions that provokes you the memories doing it with your father. You know well he wants to be part of it, part of your routine and part of your life. And you're letting him come in 'cause, why not?

You know the road by heart, touring it with the fresh dawn's air hitting your face, till it turns with a salty smell after some hours driving in silence, enjoying the landscape views. You're closer to the ocean and you can feel it inside your lungs, closing your eyes for second. Time enough to make you fly back to your childhood. The sound of the engine, the seagull, the waves breaking. Everything is the same as you remember. But you're not a child anymore, you're ridding California with Filip Telford by your side, who can say that? Only you. And it's not because who he is, but because of who you want him to be for you.

It's sunrising. In the horizon, the sky is mixed with blue, orange and soft pink. It's your favorite part of the day, but now it's different. You're /living/ it, breathing it, enjoying it totally relaxed as never before, with Chibs' eyes on you for a ephemeral instant, fully spellbound. And that's what makes it special this time.

“Don'ya thenk' it's time fo' a coffee?” He asks loud enough for you to hear him. You nod laughing, 'cause you really need it after sleeping for just four hours.

Some mills away, you finally stop in a rest area on top of a small cliff. Taking off your helmet, you walk towards the wooden railings looking down. You're too close of the sea that almost some salty drops splash your face interspersed with the sea breeze. You couldn't get tired of a place like that. The smell of hot coffee pushes you into reality, turning to Chibs so you can hold the metallic mug.

“Maybe I put some Cardhu in'et”.

“Maybe?” You break in laugh, leaning your nose over it.

“When I say ‘maybe’, et's because I alrede' ded'et”.

“So... the other night, at the workshop, maybe it was a date?”

“Maybe”. He nods, blowing his drink, before taking a drink. “Maybe that's the second one”.

“Maybe you already won me, fixing my bike and bringing me here”. Giving him your most smooth smile, you drink too, turning to the ocean while he puts an arm on your shoulders letting you rest your cheek on his. “Maybe you put a lot of Cardhu”.

“Yea', maybe”. 

[heydocpotts]

Your fav Tony quote?

the ones that make him sound cool:

"i shouldn't be alive... unless it was for a reason. i'm not crazy, pepper. i just finally know what i have to do. and i know in my heart that its right."

"jarvis? target extremis heat signatures, disable with extreme prejudice. what are you waiting for? it's christmas- take 'em to church"

"we are not soldiers. i'm not marching to fury's fife"

[shoot to thrill playing over the hacked speakers] "agent romanoff... you miss me?"

"like christmas but with more... me"

[called the da vinci of his time] "absolutely ridiculous. i don't paint"

"like the old man said: together"

"and i needed you, as in past tense [...] i said we'd lose. you said 'we'll do that together, too.' guess what, cap? we lost and you werent there. [...] i got nothing for you, cap. i've got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. zero, zip, nada. no trust- liar."

"it's not about how much we lost. it's about how much we have left. we're the Avengers. we gotta finish this."

"i'm tony stark. i build neat stuff, got a great girl, and occasionally, save the world. so why can't i sleep?"

"my armor was never a distraction or a hobby, it was a cocoon, and now im a changed man. you can take away my house, all my tricks and toys, but one thing you cant take away- i am iron man."

"the avengers. that's what we call ourselves. we're sort of like a team. 'earths mightiest heroes' type thing"

[when asked when he learned thermonuclear astrophysics] "last night."

[after he says turning over the iron man suit is akin to indentured servitude/prostituion and stern starts respond 'well im no expert'] "in prostitution? of course not, youre a senator."

[vendor asks if he's iron man] "sometimes."

[after steve says they need a plan of attack] "i have a plan: attack."

the ones that showcase his true nature- fucking weirdo nerd dad:

"drop your socks and grab your crocs, we're about to get wet on this ride"

"jarvis. sometimes you gotta run before you can walk"

"it's a big bunny!!!! relax about it!!!!!!"

[soldier throws up a peace sign while taking a photo with him] "please no gang signs"

everything his face said when he met the gaurdians on titan in IW

"well good. because that would be outlandish, and uh, fantastic. i'm just not the hero type. clearly. with this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes i've made [...] the truth is... i am iron man"

"mr rogers, i almost forgot. that suit did nothing for your ass"

"dads leave, no need to be a pussy about it"

"jarvis? you ever hear the tale of jonah?" [right before he throws his actual body into the mouth of a giant alien worm]

"please be a trap door... yay!"

[to harley, his official first born son] "move out of the way or i'm gonna run you over"

[about his official second born son, peter] "underoos!!"

[to dum-e, his other first born son] "if you douse me again, and im not on fire, im donating you to a city college"

"that man is playing galaga! thought we wouldn't notice. but we did"

"doth mother know you weareth her drapes?"

[when pepper asks whats wrong] "oh nothing. im just going into cardiac arrest"

"I WAS ATTACKED"

[about the avengers initiative] "i told you i don't want to join your super secret boyband."

[pepper freaking out about finding out tony was dying] "i didnt want to alarm you. i was going to make you an omelet and tell you"

[going full Dad Mode] "no this is where you zip it! alright? the adult it talking."

[coulson calls and he doesnt want to talk to him] "you have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. please leave a message"

[scares the shit out of pepper when changing the arc reactor together & being lowkey injured in the attempt] "was that so hard? that was fun right?"

[after being told they saved the world while he's on the ground after almost dying] "hey! alright. good job, guys. let's just not come in tomorrow, let's just take a day. have you ever tried shawarma? there's a shawarma joint about 2 blocks from here. i don't know what it is but i wanna try it"

"a little ostentatious, don't you think?" [proceeds to add bright ass red to the already vibrant gold metal suit of armor that he is planning to fly around in the sky]

[about to have a panic attack] "i broke the crayon"

[literally trying to tell a story of very serious & dangerous events that just happened to him] "a famous man once said, 'we create our own demons.' who said that? what does that even mean? doesn't matter, i said it 'cause he said it. so now, he was famous and its basically getting said by two well-known guys. i dont, uh... i'm gonna start again"

"ok, let's do this right." [immediately launches himself & his prototype boots right into the fucking ceiling]

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

can you meet me tonight in detention? (Iida Tenya X Reader)

I’s been wanting to write for Iida for a while... and so I did! My best... I love this boy he’s so underrated compared to Deku, Bakugo and Todoroki and he’s so nice... uptight... but nice...

Summary: Even the hardest workers get stressed out and exhausted, but sometimes stressed out just snap...

Warning: The reader is not going to be very kind in this story because well... while I have my limits on how mean a reader can be, I also thought it’d be neat to feature a mean-ish kind of reader in a story. But... if you don’t really like, I don't recommend this.

I also wrote this because I’m so stressed out I wish I could scream at someone since the people I’m around IRL either don’t notice or just don’t give a shit. 

Also angst, mentions of stress and anxiety, but with a happy ending. 

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0vw9k5HWGwI

I'm not a bad guy So don't treat me bad if I'm feeling sad, alright? Please don't be mad if I don't smile back, alright? If I fuck up my words, don't think I'm absurd, alright? Alright?

“Are you serious…?” You said outloud as you sat on your bed, looking at your phone and reading up on certain pages and wikis that interested you as a means to distract yourself from the fact that you had a shit-ton of homework due at the end of the week, as well as like 3 different tests.

Thankfully, Iida was already kind enough to actually help you study for the test that was today in class, and even helped you in the other subjects and yet for some reason your brain still felt empty. He was so nice, he really did help you but you envied how he could easily retain this information. Clearly, he knew you were struggling, but you had a feeling he didn’t entirely get just how much you were struggling both emotionally and physically.

You wanted to tell him, you did but at the same time it wasn’t any of his business. Iida was too sweet to put up with your bullshit and you weren’t going to do that to him. So to you it just felt like it made more sense to bottle all of this up rather than be upfront with your stress. And anything else you might have felt for him…

When did school get so hard? And when did it catch up to you all so fast? Did you procrastinate worse than you thought? Or were the teachers just being extra cruel?

At this point you had no idea, but all that mattered was that you were in your dorm room and could only partially relax before those fucking tests. You just wanted to sleep for the rest of your life or at least sleep all the way through your school-life until you get somewhere you want.

The worst part? 

The second you blinked you realized that you had already somehow fallen asleep and the clock on your phone read 8 am. God... you couldn’t...

You couldn’t get yourself out of bed yet, you had to just lie down for another 5 minutes before those motherfucking tests.

“(Y/N). Are you okay?” However, a soft knock and a soft voice broke you from your thoughts but it was only Uraraka and you sighed in relief. She was okay, you didn’t mind hearing from her. “Uh huh I’m good Ochako.” You replied neutrally and you didn’t have to see her face to know she was smiling.

“Oh good! Breakfast will be ready soon okay?”

You smiled a little bit and gave another relieved sigh, “Okay… awesome I’ll be there shortly.” Good, you could stress eat at breakfast and try to not freak out or throw it back up when you start your tests.

Once you made it to the kitchen to eat with everyone, keeping to yourself and managing to somehow eat enough to satisfy your hunger for a little bit. Although you didn’t seem to notice that some of your friends, namely Uraraka, Midoriya and Iida had noticed how little you’ve been eating lately.

You barely had much breakfast at all...

However, you didn’t want to bother anyone at all until everything was taken care of so you quickly hid away once breakfast was over so you could relax in the commons for a little while longer until class starts and then you had to do all those blasted tests.

Once your ass hit the soft couch, you immediately put your ear buds in to play the first song that came to mind to block out the rest of the world for at least 3 minutes.

“Find a cure Find a cure for her life Put a price Put a price on her soul.”

“Oh my god Oh you think I'm in control Oh my god Oh you think it's all for fun.”

“Oh my God…” You mouth the lyrics and bobbed your head to the lyrics with your eyes closed, completely ignoring the reality around you as you sang this beautifully angry song that sounded just like your life right now.

“(L/N).”

And you had no idea that someone was trying to get your attention as you just kept mouthing the lyrics and dancing in seat to the rhythm. 

“(L/N).”

Nope, you couldn’t hear anything, you were too busy rocking out and listening to the screaming and the cries for help that you made you wanna scream too. Yeah! You were going to do it!

“(L/N)!”

Except you didn’t shout, it was someone else who had raised their voice and tapped your shoulder as you opened your eyes in shock and looked up at the offender with wide (E/C) eyes. It was Iida, and he didn’t look too happy with the fact that you had your earphones on full blast and didn’t hear him. But your shocked look just turned into a look of annoyance as you reluctantly put your music on pause.

“Please take off your headphones.” He started by politely requesting that you take the buds out of your ears and God you were so annoyed but did it anyway, “Ugh…” What did he want now? You were NOT in the mood.

“What Iida?” That came off a lot ruder than you intended to but at this point you were starting to care less and less.

“You really shouldn’t listen to your music at such high volume, it might actually worsen your hearing overtime.” He just HAD to give you a little mini-lecture about how listening to music too loud was going to make your hearing worse as you get older.

Why did you have a crush on him? Dammit, you wanted to focus on the fact that he was so handsome because he was. He was so handsome and such a good guy, and you adored him, but right now you weren’t in lovey-dovey mode, you were in hella-stressed mode and thus in a bad place to be lectured.

Hella-stressed mode brought out a less than pleasant side of you, where you just saw all the flaws in people and sometimes you did things you often regretted afterward. Right now you were holding it all back though, for Iida’s sake…

I'm physically exhausted Tired of my knuckles beating I'm chewing gum to pass this time Sadness, can't you see it? You're too busy seeking self-pleasures Look at how I'm feeling You write me up and say it's love And I can't believe it...

“Whatever, I’m going to the bathroom to wash my face or something... I’m exhausted.” Standing up, you tried to exit but he stopped you before you got the chance to take even a step forward. “I’m sorry (L/N) but could you please stay where you are? There’s something you and I need to discuss because I think it’s very important regarding your exhaustion.”

“Ugh.” You replied in annoyance, completely missing the concerned look on his face turn mildly offended, but at least he didn’t call you out on it. “I know you’re quite busy, but as of late you haven’t been eating very well. I’ve noticed it. I recommend that you start to monitor yourself because skipping even one meal can impact your moods and affect your health. Look at yourself, you’re out of it and that makes me wonder if you’ve been getting enough sleep.” He was telling you this like you didn’t already know that.

“Mm-hmm.” You nodded and hummed as you tried not to express ALL the annoyance you had right now.

“You’ve been falling behind a little bit too, I think it might be because of this decline in eating well. So please start taking better care of yourself okay? I can help you though if you-.” You had to stop him right there.

“I’m well aware of that Iida. Why do you think I’ve been working so hard? I know I’m falling behind… that’s why I’ve been working my ass off lately.” Keeping your cool (but barely) you explained yourself and hoped that it would make him see from your point of you, but he didn’t seem to entirely get your plight.

“And I commend you for that, but I’m also talking about your health here. Not taking care of yourself is going to make your grades suffer, it’s why you’re struggling right now.” Iida meant well, he really did, but he just did not understand…

“Is that really why I’m struggling? Is it?” So you lost some of your patience with him but didn’t raise your voice. Although he was a bit surprised at how you were biting back.

“Yes I believe so, that’s why I’m suggesting that you eat better so you don’t struggle like you currently are right now, and furthermore I recommend procrastinating less, I’m aware that you’re prone to that, which may also be why you’re struggling.” Twitching your eyebrow, you lost the ability to look at him because the more he spoke, the more it felt like he was just calling you out.

“Not everyone can be as on top of it as you okay?” Maybe this time he’d get the message to leave you alone, because right now you wanted him to just go and not remind you of how much you were sucking and how much stress you were in as your heart started to race...

And this wasn’t one of those crush heartbeating things, no, you were trembling because of everything that was starting to crawl into your skin as you resisted the urge to pace and run away or do something else undesirable...

Iida was even more surprised, but he still tried to be sympathetic because he was, he really was to your plight even though he wasn’t completely aware of how you were feeling. “(L/N) please… I’m not trying to put myself above you or offend you, I’m trying to help you because I’m worried about you and I want you to-“

That’s it…

“Dammit will you just SHUT YOUR TRAP AND LET ME HAVE THE LAST WORD FOR ONCE?!” There was nothing you saw other than red as you suddenly just screamed at the class rep and ignored how your shout had alarmed some of your classmates as they somewhat awkwardly arrived at the source of the shouting. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You simply couldn’t have someone trying to talk you down and ignore the fact that you were so pissed off and stressed out. And you REALLY didn’t need someone to kick you while you’re down. Whether they intended to do that or not, you didn’t need it and you didn’t want it.

Iida was visibly horrified, his eyes went wide at your sudden outburst but he couldn’t just let you get away with talking to him like that when he was just trying to help you. “(L/N)! Watch your language and please don’t use that tone with me when I’m trying to help you!” Voice slightly raised, he still tried to retain a sense of professionalism and not just snap at you like you were doing as you gave him a look. Who the hell was he your dad?

“You may not be feeling well, I can sympathize with that but that’s why I-.” He really wanted to help you, and it was actually kind of hurting him that you didn’t seem to want it. But he had to help you, maybe he should have been helping you more. Because right now…

You couldn’t with him. You literally could not.

You could not pretend that everything was all right anymore, and Iida was unlucky enough to be around you while you were definitely not all right.

Hey, can you meet me tonight in detention? I can feel your blood pressure rise, fuck this tension Let me crawl up into your mind, did I mention? Pretending everything's alright is detention...

“No you know what? Just stop! I am SICK to death of you always droning ON AND ON about shit I could care less about, because the truth is dude-” You were ready to just go on and on but to your shock, Iida was still trying to talk over you as a means to put an end to this. He hated the fact that he was even arguing with you about this, he never wanted to argue with any of his dear classmates.

“Enough already (L/N)! I won’t be spoken to in such a manner when I’m looking out for you! Please just let me-.” He cut you off, so you immediately did the same.

“No! Be quiet! That’s your problem! You’re like talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, YAP! Blah blah blah, on and on over and over again!” You made a mocking voice as you used both your hands to do the ‘blah blah’ gesture much to Iida’s slight horror at the way you just went off on him and weren’t stopping...

He tried very hard to try and get his word in as he stammered and every time he tried to speak you raised your voice and made yourself louder, meaner...

“Like oh my GOD I can’t believe how ANNOYING I didn’t realize you were until now! What kind of taste do I have?! I mean oh my GOD! You’re grating, you’re an uptight ass, you bitch, you nag, you’re privileged and don’t even know it, you’re an oblivious snob, you stick your nose in everyone’s business and you strut around acting like some kind of God Mode Mr. Goody Goody Two shoes, well cut it the fuck out! I’m tired of it man! I’m tired as hell, and I don’t need you up in my business and bothering the hell out of me you annoying priss! And I especially don’t need some privileged rich boy telling me that I need to take care of myself, when I don’t have the fucking advantages that you have!” As you let out quite a furious tangent and listed off all the things you disliked about your class rep with your fingers, you were so furious and making all these hand gestures you didn’t see the appalled look on his face. 

You DID see small glints of tears threatening to well in his eyes though. Oh he’s going to cry now? Typical. Apparently, he couldn’t handle the truth, could he? Classic rich boy move.

“(L/N)! N-Now you’re just being rude!” Iida was so lost for words at your barrage of insults and apparently how you really felt about him that there was little he could say to defend himself. Never in his life has anyone told him things like that.

And he looked even more distraught when he saw you laughing, “Oh! You’re gonna cry now? WOOOOOW… so you can dish it by being on people’s ass but you can’t even take it? I don’t feel sorry for you... Did I hurt your feelings? Did I hurt the rich boy's feelings~?”

“Stop it…!” His voice cracked ever so slightly and he hated himself for it as you relentlessly went in to drive the final knife into the fresh wound.

“Well then how about YOU stop fucking up my school life and leave me the hell alone already you four-eyed, made-in-the-shade jerk?!” You were standing big as you shouted at him with exhausted eyes that he couldn’t see through his tearful ones.

“Y-You’re going to detention after classes are over!” Iida quickly snapped back. He wasn’t certain if he had that authority but he needed to do something, anything to reassert himself, even though his quivering lip and the tears in his eyes hardly made him intimidating for you as you scoffed and threw your hands up in the air.  

“Great! I’m gonna love it there! You wanna know why? Cuz I get to be away from you!”

The fact that you were in trouble and definitely going to detention didn’t seem to deter you as the taller male hitched his breath, forcing back the rest of his tears and threw an arm to cover his eyes when the traitorous tears streamed down his cheeks. He couldn’t let his classmates see him like this, he couldn’t let you see him like this so he could only do what his available part of his brain told him to do, the part based on emotion, and so he quickly dashed off away from his classmates as Uraraka and Midoriya tried to call him back while you just huffed and watched him run off with slightly wide eyes…

De-detention De-detention Pretending everything's all right is detention...

“Oh my… (L/N)… please, I understand you’re upset but… please let’s all just calm down…” However, because the other could tell you were still mad, Yaoyorozu tried to fill in for Iida in getting you calm down, but unfortunately she underestimated your anger at the moment.

“Ohhh like it’s SO easy… you’re just as bad as him Yaoyorozu! What’s the rich girl got to worry about huh? You can calm down easily since you can afford EEEEEEVERYTHING in the world…” You were still pissed and reacting purely on anger without even thinking of what you were saying, and poor Yaoyorozu walked into the lion’s den not knowing that the lion was awake and pissed.

You were the lion.

“W-What?! B-But I-.”

“But NOTHING. Calm down?! That’s easy for you to say! You’re SO fucking smart and I bet everything Asshole-sensei gives you is like no fucking problem, what are you even doing here Yaoyorozu?!” You couldn’t take it anymore, what were all the rich kids doing at this school when they could do whatever they wanted? While people like you, Uraraka and Kirishima were working your asses off because you had to actually work for it.

It wasn’t Iida’s fault, and it wasn’t Yaoyorozu’s fault either and you knew it, but you were so pissed off and at an all-time stress high you thought the tears welling in her eyes were innocuous and just another way to get sympathy from the others. Of course, the princess wanted sympathy because she wouldn’t and couldn’t understand real world struggles. And you were certain that the princess was going to get what she wanted because you had no doubt that she always got what she wanted.

“I-I…” Oh now SHE was crying,  wow...

“I-I’m here to be a hero like everyone else is! Just like you!” She exclaimed and covered her mouth when the tears were coming and she couldn’t stop them, but you had no sympathy for her right now. She could do anything she wanted, and she wanted to be a hero? So why didn’t she just buy her way into an agency?

“Oh! You’re crying now! HA! Classic princess move, can’t handle any kind of real world truth because you’re SOOOOO sheltered and happy in your big fancy castle and people like me are stuck in little shitholes barely making ends meet, well go cry home to your rich mommy and daddy sweetheart don’t cry here. If you can’t handle real-world shit, go cry home to mommy and daddy and maybe think about how great you have it and how you have never struggled a goddamn day in your life, while people like me got shit and have to deal with everything by ourselves using what WE got every goddamn day...” Your display of aggression and downright callousness shocked everyone, but Jirou didn’t hesitate to step in to defend Yaoyorozu when she burst into tears and ran over to a worried Ashido and Uraraka.

“Okay that’s it! You better leave her alone (L/N)! And chill the hell out! She didn’t do anything to you!”

Wrong choice of words…

“I need to chill the hell out?!”

“Yeah!”

Girl vs girl, Mineta was much too scared to enjoy the concept of a catfight as you and Jirou got up in each other’s faces, but it didn’t last long when your anger took the reigns, “How about you shut the fuck up so I don’t have to listen to your condescending smart-ass comments?! Ain’t nobody asked for your imput!”

“I’m serious (L/N)! Cut it out or-“

“Or what?! I can kick your ass easily Jirou, don’t even try me right now, cuz I am HELLA stressed out and my telekinesis can fuck anything up cuz of the headache I’ve had for the last two weeks. I already beat up several people in the Sports Fest and another edgy chick at the USJ. But if you wanna try to pick a fight with me go ahead, it’ll end badly I guarantee it…”

Your threat actually intimidated her because she’s seen you use your telekinesis quirk in battle and you got good with your quirk, but didn’t have COMPLETE control over it especially when your emotions got the better of you and you were in the WORST possible mood. Jirou reluctantly backed off as you scoffed.

“Good.” You could have beaten her in a battle, but that was the last thing you wanted since you were tired and mad as hell. You were going to feel horrible about it later but right now you were stuck on anger, and your concerned classmates just wanted to help you.

“(L/N)… being angry is not a pretty feeling…”

“Yeah, c’mon now just… try and-“

Not wanting to anger you any further, kind souls like Aoyama and Ojiro attempted to try and get you to calm down, but it didn’t work…

“Try and what?! I don’t need you guys to tell me what to do either! What can you dolts even do?!” You shouted at them too, and already the two blondes were scared as hell and trembling at the volume you were using.

“Aoyama! You’re a joke and I have NO idea how you even got into this class!” You pointed at the taller blonde who’s eyes widened and he backed away slightly, and then you turned your finger over to Ojiro.

“Ojiro you’re even worse! You’re weak-willed, boring and your so-called costume is the definition of a fashion faux-pas!” Suddenly you shouted that last word a little bit louder as he, like Aoyama, backed away slightly when your words straight up attacked them…

Quietly Aoyama gasped when the words hit him, it was a tad bit dramatic but genuine as your words sincerely did hurt as the tears instantly sprung to his eyes while Ojiro felt an uncomfortable swell of hurt in his chest as he couldn’t fight his own tears at how much that stung and how you just kept yelling.

“What kinda advice do two of the most frivolous students in our class have for me? Hmm?! Go on, lemme hear it!”

“N-Nevermind… s-sorry for bothering you…” Ojiro tried and failed to hold back the tears in his eyes, and it wasn’t just him, Aoyama was on the verge of tears as he hiccuped, “O-Oui… w-we didn’t mean to… upset you…”

They both timidly apologized, before they both dashed away from you, crying as they covered their eyes. in an attempt to hide their tears On any normal day you would have felt horrible, but not right now, not yet…

“(L/N)!”

Your next victim in the making? You turned with a frenzied look in your eye to see a very nervous looking Midoriya as he was trembling where he stood. He KNEW he was in trouble just for daring to speak up and you could tell he was AFRAID. “P-Please… s-stop this…? I-I know that you’re mad but…”

“Well, well, well, well, wellllll~!” Cutting him off you threw your hands in the air, “The famous Deku, always, ALLLLLLWAYS gotta play the motherfuckin’ hero, well… NOT TODAY DEKU!” You went from 5 to 10 just like that as Izuku shrunk and yelped a bit.

“I’m not in the mood to be hearing nothing from your goody goody two-shoes ass cuz I got shit on my mind you couldn’t even begin to understand cuz you’re SOOOOO smart, so when I say ‘Shut the fuck up’ I mean SHUT THE FUCK UP!” God you were being so mean and a part of you felt horrible when Izuku was trembling with fearful tears in his eyes, but you were still angry and your anger was still in control as you saw the green-haired boy back away…

“Right choice… now… does anybody else have anything that they wanna share or ask me?” You asked everyone else, outright warning them all as Bakugo snickered a bit at how angry you were. Was it wrong that he found this kind of awesome? Way to tell off the privileged ones and the losers and ESPECIALLY Deku…

I wanna go home and you say, "Now is not the time" Fuck being all alone in back of the classroom, ah Stop calling up my phone, trying to say that I've been out of line When all I ever asked was to go to the bathroom...

“Why did Iida, Ojiro and Aoyama just run off crying?”

Aizawa’s voice broke you out of the rage you were in as he entered the room. Even though you turned to face him with the same exhausted and irritated look on your face. He wasn’t having it, but neither were you. However, you knew better than to shout at this asshole that was your teacher and you didn’t need to be in anymore trouble than you already were.

He knew you were pissed off and stressed out, but he saw three of his students run off in tears, and then Yaoyorozu and Midoriya were crying too. Classic stress-induced meltdown…

“I made them cry sir.” You muttered and raised your hand as you didn’t look any less annoyed. Yeah you made them cry, so what? Dammit… you made them cry… for some reason that didn’t feel very good when you actually said it outloud.

“Why?” He asked you in a plain, simple tone as you tried not to look anymore annoyed. “Iida told me things I didn’t want to hear. So I yelled at him. Ojiro and Aoyama tried to get me to calm down, but I didn’t wanna hear that neither, so I yelled at them too. Yaoyorozu and Midoriya too.” You had to reluctantly admit what you had done, and to your shock Aizawa didn’t seem TOO annoyed.

“Iida said I have detention because I was rude to him. I don’t really care that I was but I will be in detention.” Sighing, you at least had enough balls to admit that you weren’t going to skip detention, which mildly surprised Aizawa as he sighed.

These kids…

“Very well. Make sure to apologize to everyone when you’re done.” He wasn’t good at the whole comforting and making kids make up, so he just expected you to apologize because he knew that you would start feeling bad soon. You weren’t normally like this, it was just stress and he understood that, but he wasn’t going to straight-up tell you to relax. And you didn’t expect him to either since he knew his students knew better. 

Aizawa cared about his students, and you knew that, and you were actually glad that he didn’t punish you any further and instead just made sure you remembered to go to detention.

A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER…

You did it. 

You finished all the fucking tests and you were freaking the fuck out. You had no idea how you did, but at the same time you really didn’t give a shit. They were done, and that’s all that mattered to you right now.

Yet, why didn’t you feel as good as you wanted to? After a test you normally felt SOME relaxation and proceeded to treat yourself or just go to sleep after everything was done. Except, treating yourself felt impossible…

For one, you had detention to go to after school. Second, once tests were finished you became aware of how HELLA awkward everything was in class after your meltdown. Iida refused to look at you the entire time as he quickly averted you and avoided you every time you were in the vicinity. Every time you even looked at him, he ignored you. Which actually really stung...

Then Midoriya and Jirou almost seemed nervous when you were close too, as they looked away from you out of fear that you’d say something mean again. Then Yaoyorozu, Ojiro and Aoyama practically teared up when you looked over at them.

Clearly… they were all still feeling hurt over your words and how you behaved. Did you feel bad? Yes…

“Are you okay (Y/N)?” Thank God Uraraka at least wasn’t treating you like some kind of monster as she seemed the most concerned for you.

You shook your head and sighed, “I was SO stressed out Ochako… I just… snapped… I know it’s no excuse for what I said to Iida and the others but… god… I was SO stressed out… and I took everything out on them… I needed to, I mean I shouldn’t have but I just… felt like I had to…” You could be honest with Uraraka, and although she didn’t approve, she understood.

“I know… it’s okay… I wasn’t feeling very good either because of the tests either... it’s stressful, it really is... But… you can still apologize to them… when you’re ready. They’ll understand, after all… Iida… Deku, Jirou, Yaoyorozu, Ojiro and Aoyama are nice. I know that they’ll forgive you and understand why you were upset and know that you really didn’t mean any of it. They know you (Y/N).” She gave you a soft smile in hopes that it would reassure you, and it did a little bit as you gave her a little smile in return.

“I sure hope so…” 

Even though she could tell you were nervous, Uraraka had faith in you. She knew you could do it, and she knew that you would win them back because after all they were in this together right? Everyone stressed out when it came to trying to be good at what you’re doing.

You thought so too. You were sad, that’s all, you were stressed out, that’s all. It wasn’t an excuse, but still. You didn’t mean to hurt anyone.

And you really didn’t mean to hurt Iida...

Hey, can you meet me tonight in detention? I can feel your blood pressure rise, fuck this tension Let me crawl up into your mind, did I mention? Pretending everything's alright is detention 

What have you done?

Being in detention with Present Mic made you realize that you screwed up. Albeit because he tried to do The Breakfast Club thing by making you and the other students in detention just write why you thought you were here. In English.

You didn’t really have a problem with English but thinking about why you were in detention and writing about why you thought you were in detention made you realize EXACTLY why you were in here. You snapped at your innocent classmates, threatened one classmate, and made some of your classmates’ cry, even when they were trying to help you, you made them cry…

You made Ojiro cry. You made Aoyama cry. You made Midoriya and Yaoyorozu cry.

You made Iida cry…

You made the boy you’ve been crushing on for quite some time cry. He wanted to help you and you said all of those horrible things to him and made him feel lower than he’s probably ever felt. And Iida really was a sweet guy. Yes… he was uptight, yes he came off as a bit of a snob, but dammit, he only bothered you because he cared about you, he helped you because he cared about you, and you yelled at him and hurt his feelings.

The thought made you want to cry as a tear dripped down your cheek and onto the paper you were writing on to confess your crimes.

“Hey… it’s okay now (L/N)…” Present Mic was kind enough to offer you some sympathy though because he and Eraser knew that you were just under a lot of stress and meant none of the nastier things you might have said to your classmates. “It’s okay… the worst part is over for now doncha think? It’s time to move on! And squeeze in some downtime afterwards yeah~! Maybe relax yourself now that you have a little time to breath!” He was still as excitable as ever, and it actually made you smile as you wiped your tears away.

“Yeah... yeah you’re right sir...” 

No more negativity. Not right now.

You wanted positivity, and show that kind positivity to your classmates from now on. As soon as you were finished with your paper and handed it to Mic, you were rushing out the door. “You got this!!” He made sure to give you that support too, because he knew a stressed-out student when he saw one and that’s the only reason you got upset in the first place. They needed to do something about students and mental health…

Tonight I can feel your blood pressure rise Let me crawl up into your mind Pretending everything's alright Is detention...

To be continued...

[therainbowstuffs]

Cheryl Blossom - The Unsaid (Part 2)

Part 1 

Warning; everything that is Riverdale.

A/N; I had a hard time writing about this. Kept deleting it. Tell me if this make sense to you after reading the first one? Because idek anymore, my head is a mess.

The sudden disappearance of the HBIC of the Riverdale High was suspicious to say the least but no one really cares except for you.

It was miserable for you to act like you were fine, or maybe nonchalant over the fact that you actually knew what was the reason of the disappearance of Cheryl Blossom like everyone else.

Many messages and voicemails you have sent but none of them were answered by your girlfriend. You were very worried, anxious and it shows to everyone else, especially to your friends. But you couldn't risk anyone to know that you had a slight interest in Cheryl Blossom's life.

You were desperate to know whether she was safe, you were desperate for help but couldn't risk anymore of Cheryl's life by making it obvious. That devious mother of your girlfriend's was painfully hard to read, hard to expect and it makes you even more worried about your girlfriend.

You still could remember the cunning, smug smile on her face when you confront her, days after Cheryl's disapperance. It makes you wanna rip the smile off her face but you knew you were risking Cheryl's safety more if you made any slight mistake.

You weren't doing any good. It wasn't you to be this quiet nor anxious and it was getting obvious that you were disturbed by something.

You did everything you could to scoop informations on your girlfriend's whereabouts, be it from Betty, Kevin and even your own best friend, Toni, should they had heard about your girlfriend.

You were desperate, at this point.

It wasn't until weeks later when the said person finally appeared, looking like her usual self, nose high as she walked confidently through the hall.

Keeping your calm, you followed Cheryl with your eyes but the latter didn't even spare a glance towards you when she passed by.

Whispers were everywhere but you heard nothing, mind filled with questions. But partly relieved to see that she was well.

Impatiently went through the classes for the day, you waited for the right time to finally confront the girl.

You sneaked in when you made sure it was only her in the locker room, watching her quietly.

You weren't sure how to start.

Cheryl's movement started to slow down when she felt the presence but she made no move to face you - struggling to control herself from whatever she was dealing inside her mind.

"Cheryl."

The sound of your voice caused her to flinch, making you frown at the sight. You were surprised at the cold tone she had used when you tried to approach her.

"Stop. Don't come near me."

You reached out and tried to take her hand but she recoiled, pushing yours roughly - away from her.

"Don't touch me, snake."

Your heart quickened at the look on her face and the venom she had in her voice. "Babe, what is going on?"

"I want you nowhere near me. We're done. Forget that we ever exist. Do you hear me?" She glared at you.

Cheryl was quick to leave but you were quicker to block her.

"Wait, Cheryl. What's going on? Can you at least explain to me? Where have you been? I've been worried sick!" You tried to grab her hand again.

Cheryl scoffed, slapping your hand off hers. "Get your dirty hand off me!" She gritted her teeth, glaring at you one last time before stomping out of the room - leaving you confused and heartbroken.

Days after days, you still couldn't get the answers. But you were extremely worried so you had to dig information out of Betty. She was hesitant to tell you so you acted nochalant, apologizing for asking and said that you were only curious - like everyone else.

So you had no choice but to investigate it yourself.

You were shocked to say the least, to learn the fact that Cheryl was sent to some place so she could heal or some shit but not really surprise when it comes to the devil Cheryl had as a mother.

But you didn't understand the treatment you got from your girlfriend.

Is she.. okay? What had happened? Is she.. seriously believing stuffs she was told back in that place her mother had sent her? A place to cure her?

Questions were filled inside your mind. And you wanted the answers.

"Are you seriously cured?" You casually rested your body next to her locker where she was standing, crossing your arms.

"As a matter of fact, yes." She closed her locker harshly. "I finally realized how wrong it was, with you." She stood straight - staring at you blankly.

You scoffed. "Lies. I believed nothing that came out of your mouth." You straightened up and started to approached her slowly, watching her expression started to flattered. "Out with it."

Cheryl clenched her teeth, "Don't come near me, freak. Mother was right about you. I was blind, foolish. What we had was not real."

You stepped right in front of her, titling your head while you listened to her calmly. "Is that why I have been getting this kind of treatment from you, huh? Because you have cured. Because it was a mistake?"

"Yes. I was delusional. What we had was not real. It was a mistake. You're a scum, a snake. I was foolish." Cheryl gritted her teeth, mumbling it out quickly and immediately averted her eyes away from you.

You hummed, nodding - watching how she trembled when you're in her space. "Alright." You stepped back, glancing at her tight grip around her bag. "See ya around, then." You smirked, masking your real expression before walking away.

Day after day, you went through it all like usual. Except, no more sneaky glances, no more making out in the closet, no more you and her. It was really the end.

It wasn't really believable what she said when she continued acting like she was still your girlfriend by how petty she was when it comes to Betty and the girls you befriend with.

She was starting to make it obvious by how furious she was, how worsened her behaviour have become when you was dared to kiss one of the girls in one game you played at Veronica's party that one night.

You watched her taking shots after shots and wilding on the dance floor by herself - drunk.

You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head at the irony of the situation. She broke your heart but you are still here, pining over her and still watching her - trying to protect her.

Deep down you know she still loves you. Curse that cured shit. You didn't believe it. Cheryl was the one who wanted to come out, who doesn't want to hide. She was desperate when it comes to you. She was proud to have you. She was happy.

But you refused, you edged her on with the mysterious vibes, you lured her in for the secret affair, you excites her at the feeling of the adrenaline everytime you both did the sneaking.

You created games for her to play. You had to, for her sake. This game that had you both addicted to it. The game that had your heart broken. You both lose. Game over.

It was too dangerous. Be it for her mother's reputation and her hatred towards you or your position as a serpant. Too risky, too dangerous for Cheryl. You couldn't risk it.

Cheryl was right. It was a mistake.

It was a mistake to put your heart on the line. It makes you weak. The love you had for her was too addictive. She was like a drug. A dangerous one and it left you miserable. Broken.

Like a hawk watching its prey, your eyes followed every movement of the love of your life; your ex girlfriend while she moved on the dance floor.

You straightened up, sipping your drink before putting it away when you saw a guy leaning over her - offering her a drink with a kind smile on his face.

You were alarmed and it doesn't take long for you to move when you saw the scene in front of you.

She was getting drowsy, intoxicated to realise what was happening when he steered her away from the crowd.

You cursed, dodging the sweaty mess that was on the dance floor in rush. You were too stupid to let this happened at the first place.

The girls was the next to realize what was happening at the sight of Cheryl being ushered by a guy suspiciously like that.

They grabbed Toni to follow as well, not realizing you were there.

It was red. You saw red. You didn't realize anything else, your body was moving on its own, pulling his body before he could do anything and beat the crap out of him.

You can't see anything but him, hear anything but his cries, feel anything but his flesh, smell anything but his blood.

"Y/N!" The girls were terrified by this side of you but Toni was there to pull you away before you could kill him for real. "Hey, hey." Toni hold you close, trying to calm you down.

You were breathing hard. You were crying now.

"It's okay, breathe, babe. Follow me, alright?" Toni tried and tried until you started to calm down.

The other girls were watching you sadly while tending to Cheryl's need, calming the girl as well.

You closed your eyes, heart finally returned to its normal beat, breathing was finally easier to suck in the air. You cursed softly, "Sorry. I.. I saw him. I saw Cheryl. He.."

"Hey, you're alright now. Breathe again. Slowly." Toni rubbed your back.

You nodded, looking up. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. Is she.." You gulped, not wanting Cheryl to see that side of you but mostly concern.

Veronica and Josie smiled to offer you comfort. "She's okay. Passed out, but okay."

Betty fixed Cheryl's position on the bed and pulled the comforter on her before slowly moved to you.

"I'll get the boys to drag this stupid ass out of this room, okay? Breathe, babe." Toni rubbed your shoulder softly before leaving.

"You okay?" Betty sat with you on the floor, reaching out a hand on your cheek.

You nodded wordlessly, trying to focus on making yourself calm down. You were exhausted. It was like all your frustration and anger was dumped on that jerk.

Fangs and SweetPea arrived, glancing at you worriedly and took the limp body out of the room without so much noise. Toni was thinking of staying for you but you gestured for her to follow them.

"I'll grab some water for you, and stuffs to tend to your hands, alright, babe?" Josie touched your shoulder softly before moving out of the room.

Veronica was next to move. "Party's over. Gonna chase them out, be right back, okay?" She smiled at you.

There was you, Betty and the unconscious Cheryl left in the room. It was silent but not suffocating, like you thought it would be everytime Betty and Cheryl was in the same room.

Betty said nothing else but pulled your head to rest on her shoulder. You exhaled and wrapped your arms around her, taking care of your bloody hands away from her dress, before letting your whole body relaxed in the arms of your bestfriend.

"It makes sense, now." She grasped you tighter against her, pulling you closer - almost afraid to let you go, to finally face the truth. "Cheryl is the lucky girl, isn't she."

You slumped even more when you heard what she was whispering in your ear, finally letting it all out - the relief, the burden, the sadness, the frustration, the pain.

The unsaid words by your tears.

---

You weren't lucky that same night.

You didn't remember anything rather than a bunch of men surrounding you after that night, half an hour after you have resisted an offer to another hangout by the gang. You remember dismissing Toni's concern to accompany you home, excusing yourself to sleep it off, wanting to be alone.

You were by yourself on your way home and there was a bunch of men appeared out of nowhere. You weren't drunk but you were defenseless against so many fist coming at you.

It was quick for you to have your knees on the ground, receiving another blow before you finally surrendered, face planted first onto the ground.

It was a blur, you remember nothing except for the fact that you weakly dragged your bloody arse to your trailer and woke up the next morning with pain all over your body and face.

The news of you appearing to the school looking badly wounded was spreading pretty fast. Whispers was all over the place but you gave no attention to any of them, still pondering over the fact that you got ambush out of nowhere.

The gang was furious when they learned the fact that you were alone when you got beaten up. They wanted answers but you dodged them perfectly, knowing this wasn't the usual fight between the gangs but was personally aimed at you.

"Easy there, Cooper." You dodged her hand, hissing at the touch when she tried to dab a cotton on one of your cuts on your face.

"Sorry." Betty mumbled, fingers softly grazed over your wound in worry while she tried to clean up the fresh cuts.

"Ow, Betts!" You flinched away, "That hurts." You protested, mumbling yet another curse when she dabbed another cotton on your cuts.

"Then stop getting hurt for real, Y/N/N." She slumped her shoulders sadly when you pushed her hands away, flinching in pain everytime she attempted to clean your wounds.

You shrugged carelessly, "Part of the job, sweets." You smirked, snatching the cotton from her hand.

Betty sighed, crumpling the tissues in her hand in frustration. "Just.. Please. Be careful. I'm worried. I'm always worried about you."

"I will, Betts. I was just unlucky last night. Won't happen again. Promise."

"You can't promise me that." She mumbled sadly as she picked the used tissues into a paper bag. "Are you gonna be okay? Do you want me to get you anything?"

"Betts, I'm gonna be okay. This is nothing, alright? Go." You shooed her out. "I'm going to meet Toni after this. Don't you worry."

She nodded and paused, staring at you softly and was about to give you a hug when the door of the room opened, causing her to backed away quickly as if she was doing something wrong.

You frowned at her gestures and looked over at the cause of her panic.

"My bad. I thought no one's here." Cheryl shrugged nonchalantly, crossing her arms - not daring to meet your eyes but stood there, not making any move to leave.

"I'm gonna leave anyway." Betty mumbled knowingly. "Take care, babe."

She cared nothing but you at the moment, despite having Cheryl in the same room when she took the risk to gave you a hug, making sure to put her hand on the back of your head before pulling you into her shoulder - to purposely piss Cheryl off.

You smiled knowingly, glancing to see the annoyed expression on her face. "You too, please." You rubbed Betty's arm soothingly before letting Betty go, leaving you and Cheryl alone in the room.

"Does she know?" Cheryl mumbled after a moment of silence, still not meeting your eyes.

You exhaled softly. "Did you get into a trouble last night, after the party?"

"Did you?" She let down her guard and finally take a look at you, clenching her teeth at the sight of you badly wounded.

"Nothing I can't handle." You shrugged, wincing at the pain when you licked your cut on your upper lip. "I wanted to know, Cheryl."

She met your eyes as her arms loosened around herself. "Thank you.. for last night."

"For goodness sake, Blossom." You closed your eyes in frustration. "Stop avoiding the question."

"You avoided mine." She retorted, walls back up again. "Does she know?" she repeated - her voice was firm.

You sighed. "Yes. But I didn't tell her." You looked up to her, "Don't worry, alright. Your secret is safe. She won't tell anyone." You dissed.

Cheryl closed her eyes for a moment, cooling herself down before approaching you. You watched on quietly when she put her hands on your face softly, frowning over the cuts and bruises on your skin.

"Where else?" She whispered softly, eyes meeting yours in that same way that made your heart flutter while she caressed your skin gently with her thumbs.

"Why do you care?" You whispered back, watching her trying to control her emotion, waiting for her to crack.

"I cared. Always."

"That wasn't what you said the other day."

"It was still a mistake, Y/N."

You huffed, pushing her hands off your face. "What are you trying to play, Cheryl?" you looked at her, wanting her to just tell the truth. "Out with it, I'm tired of this shit."

Cheryl groaned, rubbing her face with her hands and decided to just be honest with you. "Y/N, I just wanted to protect you."

"Your mom did this." You stated knowingly. "And you tried to do these stupid stunts, to steer me away from you so you could protect me." You scoffed. "I'm a serpant, Cheryl. I could take care of myself."

Cheryl glared, eyes teary in angry tears. "You have no idea how scared I was when she threatened me to hurt you. I was always scared, you have no idea because you were always busy getting yourself hurt for getting into fights. I don't want you to get hurt anymore! My mother wanted to hurt you if I didn't do what she had asked me to! I wanted to protect you! You're selfish for saying that to me!"

You gritted your teeth. "You are not being completely honest with me."

"You knew where I was." Cheryl clenched her jaw tightly, glaring at you.

"And you expect me to believe all shits you've said to me the other day?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "I had to investigate it myself. Because I was worried!" you frowned. "You wouldn't want to be honest with me. You pushed me away even after I know where you were."

"I had to, Y/N."

"I wanted to protect you too, Cheryl. Which was why we couldn't be together, at least until we figure something out." You sighed. "But things happened and I was scared. You wouldn't let me in."

"Which was the exact reason why I had to push you away." Cheryl looked at you sadly. "I wanted to come out, remember? But I didn't realized what you were always scared of until we got caught. You were worried for me. But it's different now. My mother wanted to hurt you. Look at what happened, Y/N. She paid some gang to beat you up. God knows what else she would do to you if I didn't listen to her."

"Cheryl, please. I wanted to know what happened. I want you to be honest so we could solve this together. Not you dealing with it alone. We're in this together." You reached out softly, cupping her cheeks in your hands. "Come on, it's me. Stop acting so tough around me." You softened your tone, trying to coax her to let it all out. "Tell me everything."

She paused, looking into your eyes in silent.

"Let me in." You begged her.

She held your hands that was on her face gently as she took a deep breath.

"I thought of you every single day, Y/N." She whispered, looking up at you. "I was scared." She admitted. "I thought I was tough. I thought I could fight her like I used to. I thought we could finally be free. I wanted to be with you. But I couldn't do it anymore. She let me went through it all for weeks until she made a deal to let me out. For me to end things with you, to pretend that nothing had happened." She sobbed. "I thought I could do it, but I can't. She would hurt me. She would hurt you if I refuse, Y/N."

"Hey, hey, hey." You brought her face to look at you when she started to cough violently, sobbing till she can't really breath properly. "Breathe. Follow me, baby. Calm down, please. Take it easy." You tried to calm her down, kissing her forehead and rubbed her back softly. "There. Good job, baby." You whispered when she started to calm down.

"I don't want you to get hurt." She whispered after a moment of silence.

"I won't, baby."

She looked up, frowning. "But you did."

"Because we weren't honest from the start." You wiped her tears. "We're going to make this right. No more stupid stunts, baby. That wasn't really believable from the start but it still hurts."

"Sorry. But I was good though."

"Pffft no baby. Your jealousy made it very obvious. And to be honest? What do you think this is? Some kind of stupid cliches of a drama series?" You grinned. "I appreciate the thought, though."

Cheryl cupped your face softly, trying to find your eyes to meet hers. "I want to fight her, baby."

"Then you will have me by your side. Always." You spoke gently.

Cheryl smiled, rubbing your nose with hers softly. "This is so cheesy."

"You started it by getting all dramatic on me about us." You smirked. "What we had was not real. It was a mistake. I was foolish." You mocked her, chuckling a little when she glared at you. "We had to end it with a happy yet cheesiest ending you could ever ask for. But I didn't appreciate the name calling though."

"Didn't they say that love makes you stupid though?"

"So you admit you were being stupid then?"

"...yes. In order to keep you safe. Don't forget that."

You laughed but moaned in pain from your bruises on your rib. "I forgot about the pain for a moment."

Cheryl frowned. "She's going to pay for that. I have plans but let's focus on you right now, okay, baby?" She caressed your lips gently, being careful not to apply more pressure on the cut.

"On you too. I want you to tell me what's on your mind, what you feel and everything. No more secrets. Let's take care of each other, alright?"

Another smile blossomed on her lips, "I promise, baby." She paused, looking up into your eyes once again. "I love you." She breathed out softly, eyes teary - relieved that she got to say it this time.

You knew, but it felt good to hear it.

"I love you, too."

[littlesliceofmarvel]

Nightly Visitor

Request/Synopsis: Peter comes by to visit you every night as Spider-Man before he goes on his nightly hero protective patrol.

Warnings: Utter, extreme fluff & a brief mention of sex & one swear word

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: This wasn’t requested but... I had an idea for this, so enjoy! No FFH spoilers! Gif ain’t mine, and inbox is always open! x

No matter how many times you refreshed your Instagram feed, nothing could make the time go faster as you sat in your room, your window slightly ajar, and the clock flashing 7:34 pm. 

You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on your bed, wishing there was a way you could make it 8:00 so Peter could pop by before heading out for the night. It was a routine of yours, and even though you knew it was going to happen every night, you couldn’t wait for him to sneak in quickly.

You had been dating Peter for well over a year, but you’ve know about his Spider-Man secret for way longer than that. As soon as he mention the Stark Internship to you in school, you knew. It was like your spidey sense went off, and you confronted Peter about it right away. Then, Ned found out and the two of you did everything you could to prevent the word from getting out, helping Peter hide his identity.

You looked over to your phone, picking it up once again, seeing a text from Peter, making your heart do a flip as you unlocked your phone to read it.

Bug-Man - hey baby, i’m on my way over early, i missed you. 

You smiled to yourself, clutching your phone against your chest, throwing yourself back down on the bed. There was no point in answering, it only took him a solid minute to swing over to your place from his, and with your window already open, he was probably going to just let himself in.

And he did.

“Your knight in shining armour is here to save you,” Peter’s voice broke you from your daze as you opened your eyes, seeing him climbing in through your window in his suit, crawling his way up to your ceiling as you smiled at him, still laying down in your bed.

“Oh, goodie, I was in need of saving,” you grinned, watching him crawl over to the point where he was right above you, gently lowering himself head first so he was almost face to face with you, a couple inches away. He peeled the mask off of his face, his brown hair sticking out in all sorts of directions, making you giggle as you sat up slightly.

“Well, then good thing I’m here,” he smirked, dipping his head slightly to meet his lips with yours, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his mouth move slowly against yours. You could feel the passion and the love he was pouring into the kiss, and you poured those feelings right back, lifting your hand up to his hair as he deepened the kiss, pulling your head closer. 

You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling away slightly, causing him to let out a small moan, “Aw, c’mon, baby, that’s not fair,” he pouted, lowering himself further so he could let go of the web, dropping onto your bed and sitting up right, making you bounce slightly because of the impact of his body on the mattress.

You giggled, running your hand through his hair again, his brown eyes locked with yours, “I didn’t do anything,” you shrugged innocently, and he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Don’t play me like that, Y/N, it’s going to be hard to concentrate on being a hero and all when I’m flustered,” he pulled you up so you were sitting up with him, practically on his lap.

“Well, guess next time you should stop by even earlier so we can do something quickly before you go,” you smirked, placing a light kiss on his lips.

He nodded eagerly, “Deal.”

You let out a small chuckle, placing a kiss on his cheek before getting off of his lap, pulling him down to lay next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his body, the Spider-Man suit producing a comfortable amount of heat under your skin.

“How was your day at the uh... Stark Internship?” You smirked, placing a light kiss on his shoulder.

He smiled, “Good, Mr Stark is working on a new suit for me, so I’m excited. How was your day?”

You looked up at him as he ran a hand through your hair, “It was alright, I uh... binge-watched Stranger Things, so that was fun,” you laughed slightly, the difference between your life and Peter’s life sometimes being a little extreme. Peter laughed too, his eyes scanning over your face, taking in your features as you smiled.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, making you forget what the two of you were just talking about. You stared at him, slightly surprised by the comment. Peter wasn’t usually one for PDA or compliments when the two of you were out or around your friends, so during the little private moments, he took all the chances he could to make you smile, and you loved it. So did he.

You felt your cheeks heat up but you played it off, giving him a shy smile, “You’re pretty beautiful, too.” 

He grinned, shaking his head at you as he pulled you down, connecting your lips once again. You felt yourself melt into the kiss, his hand on the back of your head to make sure you didn’t tease and pull away this time. 

“I love you,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I love you too,” you replied in between kisses. 

You almost jumped out of your skin when Peter’s phone went off, his ringtone at full volume. You pulled away immediately as he lifted his phone, clicking decline call without hesitating.

“You’re not going to answer?” You raised an eyebrow at him. Peter was rarely a person to ignore his phone, even when the two of you were being intimate. It was one of his worst habits, really, so the fact that he hung up so willingly surprised you.

He threw his head back on the bed, eyes closed, “It’s just Mr Stark, he’s going to text me, though, right about.... now,” as he said ‘now’ his phone buzzed, alerting him he had a text message. You raised your eyebrows, impressed by his intuition. He opened it up, reading it over quickly before his eyes widened. 

“Oh, shit, I gotta go, Stark needs me now,” he put his phone in his suit, getting up off your bed. Your heart sank as he approached your window, knowing he was taking off for the night. You always worried, no matter how much he assured you he was fine. There wasn’t a single part of you that doubted his capability to handle himself, but it was instinct. You were always worried.

“Alright, be safe,” you got up off your bed and walked over to him, letting him pull you close and place another loving kiss to your lips, your legs feeling slightly weak at how tingly the feeling of his lips made you.

“I love you,” he pulled away, a small pout on his lips, “I don’t wanna leave you.”

You smiled softly, handing him his mask that he left on your bed, “You gotta go kick ass. Save the city, you hottie.”

He chuckled, taking it from you and putting it on, hopping out of your window and onto the fire escape, “Alright, alright, I love you.” You really couldn’t deny how good he looked in his suit, it fit his body perfectly and he always loved to show you all the new gadgets it could do. And the fact that the man that you call your boyfriend is one of the world’s most famous superheroes, practically even an Avenger - that was still insane to you. You were so proud of him.

You grinned, “I love you too, so much.” 

Even though the mask was on, you knew he was smiling as he took off down the block, swinging from building to building, and into the night.

[groundzerobakugo]

absent // k. bakugou

  gender in this imagine will be female. if you wish for me to create this with male or genderneutral pronouns please feel free to send a message my way. i would be happy to help!

word count: 3.6k

summary: a big ass misunderstanding that leads to hella angst and an ending off fluff.

...

  if he’d done something, he didn’t know what. all of the sudden, his favorite person in the world had began fading away from him. it started with canceling hangouts, and then fewer syllable texts, and then never answering or returning his calls. and he was hurt, and he was confused, and he was upset—you had dropped out of his life without warning.

  bakugou katsuki didn’t have many friends. none that he would claim, anyway. of course, there was shitty hair and sometimes he’d admit that discount pikachu was an acquaintance.

  but the one constant, the one he never denied was his friend, the one annoying piece of shit he could never live without was you. you hanging off his shoulder as he tried to study. you shoving him in the middle of an intense video game so you could win the upper hand. you sneaking into his room late at night when the world seemed too much.

  and then you just up and disappeared.

  the phone started ringing, and the blond anxiously held it up to his ear. he felt fidgety, out of place in his own room, and he paced from wall to wall. 

  he was in love with you, the icing on the cake. kami, bakugou didn’t know when it started. you were still an annoying pest like the rest of them, just a bit of a step up, but at some point, you stopped being so annoying. he began to crave those late night moments with just the two of you, when you’d weaseled your way into his room to bug him when he should have been sleeping. and he could hear your laugh and see your smile, a private show just for him.

  it continued to ring. he plopped down on his bed and drummed his fingers along his thigh. still ringing. he let out an annoyed sigh and stood.

  he didn’t even get to talk to you during class. you’d make it there just before the bell rang for class to start, and you booked it out just as the bell rang for class to end. you’d disappear during break and lunch, the blond unable to find you in the lunchroom, in the hallways, even on that damn roof you liked to hideout on. you hid from him during hero practices, and if he tried to talk to you, you blew him off and–

  “hey!”

  bakugou jumped. “(name), i–“

  “sorry i missed your call. leave a message, and–”

  bakugou hung up and threw his phone on the bed, but it missed and hit the wall, cracked as it fell down the space between his bed and the wall he shared with kirishima. he ran his hand through his unkempt hair in frustration, and he growled a loud goddammit!

  there was a knock at the door, the shadow of someone standing in front of it showing through the crack under the door. for half a second, he had the mind to tell whoever it was to fuck off, but against his judgement he begrudgingly opened the door.

  shitty hair stood at the door with his usual carefree smile. “hey, bakugou! some of us are going down to the arcade, did you wanna come with? i know it’s not your scene, but figured i ask anyway!”

  bakugou grunted, mulling it over. yeah, he’d rather stay in than deal with the rest of the fuckasses, but what else did he have to do? the one person he cared for the most had gone missing in action. so, he shrugged, “sure, not like i’m busy.”

  kirishima’s grin widened, and the two headed downstairs, meeting up with the rest of the so-called bakusquad and walking out to the arcade.

  at some point, kaminari and sero were started playing some stupid first-person shooting game, kirishima cheering them on and ashido calling out every single target for them to hit. bakugou had stood off to the side; he was leaning on the wall, arms crossed over his chest, face pulled into a scowl. 

  it didn’t matter if he just got there. he wanted to go back to the dorms the moment he stepped into the arcade. it didn’t feel right to be at the arcade with the other fuckasses without your stupid ass.

  without you calling “versus against the winner,” without your pout when you lost against sero, without your cute ass grin when you won against kaminari, without you constantly begging for bakugou to win you a stuffed animal from the crane game because he’s the best crane game player in the whole world.

  “–ey, bakugou?”

  he blinked. sero was waving a hand in front of his face. “the fuck do you want, plain face?”

  “we were gonna go get some food, asked if you wanted to come, but you were, like, spaced out and shit,” sero replied.

  bakugou pushed himself off the wall. “i’m going back to the dorms.”

  ashido pouted, “awh, why?”

  he glared. “because i’m fucking tired.”

  “yeah, say what you want, it’s probably because you’re depressed that (name) got a boyfriend,” kaminari said casually, checking his phone.

  if looks could kill, that damn discount pikachu would have perished in his spot. bakugou had started to stomp towards the stupid fuck, but shitty hair was quick to step in between the two.

  “hey, hey, let’s handle this like men,” he said quickly.

  bakugou’s glare turned towards the redhead. “fuck off, shitty hair, and fuck you, sparky. i don’t give a fuck if (name) got some stupid boyfriend. it’s her own damn life to live, and i don’t give a damn about it. now, i’m fucking going home.”

  he stomped off out of the arcade.

  what the fuck did he fucking care if you fucking had a damn, shitty, fucking, stupid ass boyfriend? big fucking deal! it wasn’t like he even had a damn fucking chance with you anyway. you were too fucking beautiful, too fucking smart, too fucking kind, too fucking soft. you were the fucking sun and the goddamn moon and the stupid ass stars. and him? bakugou was the fucking, goddamn, stupid ass dirt compared to you.

~

  it was just before school, when bakugou was switching his shoes in the locker room and grabbing the right textbooks he needed for class. it had been a late night, he’d been studying into the wee hours of the morning just to keep his mind off of you. 

  you stared at the blond from the safety of your own locker, heart caught in your throat. 

  you’d wanted nothing more than to walk over and act like nothing had happened between you two. act like you weren’t dating someone you didn’t even like. act like you weren’t being forced to stay away from your best friend because you decided it best so you wouldn’t get hurt.

  maybe you’d been staring for too long, but suddenly, the blond had glanced over at you, his crimson eyes locking with your (eye color) ones. it startled you, and you quickly looked away, a blush on your cheeks and heart skipping a beat.

  all you wanted was your best friend, the one you annoyed to no end, the one you talked all night with, the one you were in love with.

  an arm snaked around your waist, and you jumped, turning to see your boyfriend.

  akiyama kiyoshi—sweet and thoughtful and everything anyone in your school could ever want in a significant other. he was someone you’d met during a school clean up, from the general studies course and one of shinsou’s friends. he had a decent quirk, and while he didn’t aspire to be a number one hero, he expressed his desires to help people when he graduated yuuei.

  “morning!” he smiled, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

  you mustered up a carefree smile. “good morning!”

  a locker slammed behind you, and bakugou stormed by. 

  the smile faded ever so slightly on your face as you watched him disappear up the stairs.

  “everything okay?” akiyama asked.

  you blinked, looking back at him. 

  how much longer could you hold up the façade that you weren’t dying on the inside? the boy in front of you meant absolutely nothing compared to the hothead asshole that you loved, that you pushed away.

  the boy in front of you sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “you know, (name), you don’t have to date me if you don’t want to.”

  “wh-what?” you stammered. “what makes you think i–”

  “i can see the way you look at him,” he replied. “bakugou, from your class.”

  “i don’t... i...,” but the words jammed in your mouth. 

  you couldn’t say you didn’t like bakugou, as much as you wanted to. because you did like bakugou. sometimes, it felt like you even loved him.

  akiyama smiled, soft and with a hint of sadness. “it’s okay, (name). i... i had a feeling you liked him, even when i asked you out. i risked that chance, and while i would love to continue this, i can see it pains you.”

  you looked to the floor. “sorry, akiyama-kun.”

  “don’t worry about it. i’ll see you around, okay?”

  the boy turned away from you and headed up the same stairs bakugou had gone up just a few minutes prior.

  your vision grew blurry with tears. 

  it felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest, but despite that, an overwhelming sense of urgency to leave filled you. you didn’t want to have to see bakugou after akiyama broke up with you. you couldn’t deal with that. hell, he probably didn’t want anything to do with you anymore, not after the way you just blocked him out of your life like that.

  “good morning, (name)-chan!” uraraka greeted as she saw you standing alone at your locker.

  you turned to her. “tell aizawa-sensei i’m not feeling well, please.” and you brushed past her, heading back towards the dorms.

  the girl watched you leave with her brows knitted in confusion. she had half a mind to go after you and ask what was wrong, but aizawa-sensei would kill her if she was late to class again. so uraraka switched out her shoes and jogged to class, texting you an i hope you’re okay, let me know if you need to talk message before going inside.

  tsuyu waved at her upon seeing the brunette make it to class on time, and the girl headed towards the frog girl with a worried expression on her face.

  “did you talk to (name) this morning?” uraraka asked.

  but the green-haired girl shook her head. “nuh-uh. is everything okay with her, kero?”

  uraraka pursed her lips. “i’m not sure. she didn’t say much, she–”

  “you’re not in class for chitchat. uraraka, get to your seat,” aizawa said from the front of the room. he scanned the room, eyes locking on your empty seat. “anyone know where (last name) is?”

  the brunette raised her hand. “she said she wasn’t feeling well, sensei.”

  the man simply shrugged. “make sure she gets the notes from today’s class then.”

  bakugou looked over at uraraka when aizawa turned his back to the class, his brow furrowed. he’d just seen you in the locker room with that stupid dumb boyfriend of yours. you didn’t look sick, so what the fuck happened after he left?

...

  the day passed by in a blur for you. holed up in your dorm room with the lights off and music softly playing through your headphones. you were laid underneath a pile of blankets, curled up on your bed and thoughts swirling together of what had happened and of a certain blond-haired individual.

  how were you supposed to face bakugou tomorrow? he probably already suspected something happened with you and akiyama. he saw you at the shoe lockers; you two made eye contact from kami’s sake! he’d know something was up the moment uraraka said you were suddenly sick. and–wait.

  you paused.

  bakugou wouldn’t care. bakugou didn’t give a damn about why he saw you at the shoe lockers and then didn’t see you in class. he probably didn’t even notice you were missing. and why should he notice? why should he care after the way you’d treated him? after blocking him out of your life for no reason that he would ever know about. 

  the realization, while it made you relieved, it also depressed you to think about.

  you sat up and sighed, the sound wavering and shaky. the sun had long since set in the sky, and the moon had taken over. it was most likely late at night, too late for anyone else to be awake. you’d passed the entire day in the safety of your blankets, and you could have stayed in there a until the end of time had it not been for your grumbling stomach.

  the hallways were cold as you made your way to the elevator. it was deadly silent, not even a peep from ashido’s room where she usually had music playing while she studied. it took a minute, but the elevator finally reached your floor, and you took it all the way down to the common area.

  it was dark, and you held your hands out blindly in front of you, feeling your way to the kitchen. finally finding it, you flicked the light on and headed for the pantry. there wasn’t much, but you grabbed a small snack and a box of peppermint tea; somehow, the tea always made you feel better and refreshed. you turned and walked into the kitchen to turn on the kettle.

  “if you’re sick, you shouldn’t be up so late, (name)-kun,” a voice said.

  you jumped and spun around, stifling a scared gasp. “ki-kiri-kun.”

  “unless you’re not sick.”

  you gulped. “i-i, uh....”

  the redhead gave you a gentle smile. “relax. i’m not here to confront you or anything. it’s your business as to why you skipped class.”

  you opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it.

  “you should really talk to bakugou, though,” he said. “some shit went down today, and things happened.”

  your eyes widened. “what happened?”

  but kirishima shrugged. “that’s something to ask bakugou. i’m gonna get some water, but i think you know where his room is.”

  “i do,” a lump appeared in your throat. “but, i have to ask. is... is he mad at me at all?”

  kirishima laughed. “bakugou? he could never be mad at you. good luck, i hope everything works out.”

  your brows furrowed. “what do you mean by that?”

  “nothing. you’ll see.”

  he watched as you made your way towards the boys’ elevator, and he waved at you as the doors shut and you began your ascent to the third floor.

  it had taken you a few minutes to gather the courage in the elevator. you stood in front of bakugou’s door, heart hammering in your chest. something had happened today, something while you weren’t at school, something that had to do with bakugou. you were worried. what if he got hurt in a mock battle or he overdid it with his quirk again?

  the anxiety became too much, and you knocked softly at his door.

  no answer.

  you knocked again, this time louder, in case he was asleep but just quietly enough not to wake anyone else up.

  again, no answer.

  you took a deep breath and placed your ear at the door to listen if he was even awake at this hour. there was the distant hum of music, but it was a bit late and bakugou went to bed pretty early.

  “bakugou?” you whispered. “bakugou-kun, it’s me.”

  but still there was no answer.

  you had half a mind to try jiggling the handle to see if he’d locked the door, but you knew that it would be. he always slept with the door locked. kaminari was too infamous for pulling pranks, and he was the only one stupid enough to try one on bakugou much to midoriya’s anxiety. so, you turned away from the door.

  kirishima passed you on your way back to the elevator, noticing your dejected expression.

  “he’s asleep,” you said and hit the button for the common room.

  kirishima knew better though, and he entered his own room, knocking on the wall he shared with bakugou. when he didn’t get a knock back, he knocked again, harder, but unlike you, he knew that the other guys were too heavy of sleepers to hear knocking on the walls. he’d found that out when bakugou had blasted an explosion at him at three am for waking him up, and no one else had heard the following morning.

  “hey, bakugou!” he called into the wall. he leaned against it, listening for a sound. “oi, bro, wake up!”

  there was the distant sound of shuffling, and then a half-assed knock. “what the fuck do you want, shitty hair?!” it was muffled through the wall, but kirishima heard it clear as day.

  “(name) wanted to talk to you,” he called back. “she might have gone back to–”

  a door slammed shut, and kirishima leaned back into his bed. his work was done.

  bakugou stormed down the hall and impatiently continued to press the down button for the elevator, tapping his foot. it took its damn sweet time, but the moment the doors open, he switched to impatiently continuing to hit the button for the common room until the doors shut.

  while it felt like years, the elevator finally fucking got to the bottom floor, and bakugou hurried out and into the common room. but, his step faltered as he noticed you curled up with a blanket on the couch, head propped up on your arm, resting on the armrest.

  you noticed the movement out of the corner of your eye, and you turned to see bakugou. your heart jumped to your throat. “ba-bakugou-kun, are you okay?” you sat up, looking him over in the dim lighting. he didn’t look hurt, but recovery girl did work miracles sometimes.

  he stomped over with his eyes narrowed. “where were you? why the fuck weren’t you in class today? and don’t say you were sick because i know you fucking weren’t.”

  immediately, you could feel the panic coming on, the fear of confessing everything to him, as you suddenly couldn’t seem to stop shaking and your heartbeat sped up and the air become thinner as your breaths became shorter from being put on the spot.

  now or never. 

  “i-i-i, well, i....” it unraveled. “akiyama broke up with me today because i don’t like him and never really liked him, and he knew that when he asked me out, but he still wanted to try anyway, and then, like, he saw me staring at you today when you left for class, and he was like, i know that you're in love with bakugou, so you should go be with him rather than stay unhappy with me.

  “so he broke up with,” you hiccuped, “with me because i’m in love with you, but i can’t because you’re my best friend, but i can’t be your best friend because i’m in love with you, and i know that you don’t return the feelings, which is why i distanced myself because–”

  you were interrupted by a pair of soft lips crashing into yours, and your mind went blank. was bakugou fucking katsuki fucking kissing you?! but, before you could even think to kiss back, he pulled away with a smirk.

  “you know, you can be such a fucking idiot,” he laughed, soft and quiet, like no one else was supposed to hear. “this all could have been fucking avoided if you’d just talked to me, dumbass. if you’d just fucking talked to me, you wouldn’t have had to avoid me, nor would you have had to gone out with that stupid punk, nor would you have had to skip school,” he said. “if you’d just fucking talked to me we would have already been fucking dating.”

  you blinked with wide eyes. “i... you... we... we kissed.”

  “we did.”

  “we should do it again, i wasn’t ready.”

  “we can,” he said. “but only if you promise not to fucking pull that shit again.”

  a blush spread across your cheeks. “i promise, so please just fucking kiss me already.”

  and without another word he did. the sweet scent of burnt sugar filled your senses again, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, his lips soft and inviting. you kissed back with fervor, and his arms wound themselves around your waist.

  you pulled back, catching your breath and resting your forehead against his. “so, we’re... dating, right?”

  “of course we’re fucking dating, dumbass.”

  “good.”

  “good.”

  “okay,” you smiled. but, then the smile faded as you suddenly remembered what kirishima had said earlier. “hey, baku-kun?”

  “hmm?” he’d rested his head on your shoulder.

  “kirishima said something happened today,” you said. “so... what happened?”

  bakugou went rigid. “nothing of importance.”

  “are you sure?”

  “yes, i’m damn sure.”

  “just checking.” a moment of silence passed. “hey, baku-kun?”

  “...what?” he grunted. “m’trying to sleep.”

  you laughed quietly. “nothing, never mind. goodnight.”

  “night....”

  after everyone had found you two in the common room and woken you up, you’d found out what had happened.

  bakugou thought akiyama had done something and went off in a rage, pinning him against a wall and demanding to know what was wrong with you. scared the poor boy shitless into admitting that you didn’t like akiyama anyway and liked somebody else. that somebody else being the blond.

...

  ...okay listen, ik yall are probably sick of all the angsty shit i post and ik ive been posting some kinda sad shit with unsatisfactory endings, but im sorry. still trying to get back into the swing of things. next fic will definitely be fluffier and happier. bakugou just radiates angst for me so

also! please let me know what you guys think. i love reading tags or replies to my lil one-shot fics, and it makes me sad when no one gives me feedback.

[ericsonclan]

You're My Home Part 3

Summary: Mitch wakes up to a text from Violet that makes it clear she needs somewhere to stay.

Read on A03: 

Mitch woke up to the feeling of drool seeping out of his mouth. Sitting up, he wiped his mouth off with a sleepy groan before checking his phone. Shit. Violet had left him a message at 8:04 this morning.

you home?

Violet only reached out for one reason: her dad was being an asshole drunk again.

yup come on over

Throwing his phone aside, Mitch looked down at his bare chest. The sweatpants were passable, but he should probably find a shirt. Picking up the nearest one on the floor, he sniffed it deeply before tossing it to the side. That one was too rank even for him. Finding another, he gave it a whiff, finding it passable and throwing it on. He shuffled through the cramped kitchen of his family’s trailer home, grabbing a stale bagel off the counter and chewing it placidly. There was still some coffee in the pot too. His mom must’ve made some before heading off to work; Dad wouldn’t be home for several hours either.

Stepping into their living room, Mitch found his brother Willy crouched criss-cross applesauce on the couch, engrossed in the level of Spyro he was playing. As soon as he saw Mitch though, he paused the game and threw his controller to the side, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Mitch! You’re finally up! Can we play the game now? Please please please??”

Mitch rolled his eyes good-naturedly before ruffling Willy’s hair. “Sure, bud. Just remember: no telling Mom and Dad, OK?”

Willy nodded eagerly, his eyes even larger than normal.

Mitch knelt down to sort through their collection of old video games. Pulling out the Frogger case, he opened it to reveal the game Willy was truly asking about: Mortal Kombat. Putting the disc into their Playstation, Mitch booted up the game. “Violet might be coming over soon so you should get some pants on,”

Willy looked down at his bare legs. “I spilled milk on my PJ’s,”

Mitch noticed the crumpled pants at the foot of the couch. “Well, throw them in the room and get some other ones,”

Willy scampered off, still talking loudly from their bedroom. “Think Vi will want to play too?”

“We’ll see,” It was hard to tell how Violet would be feeling when she arrived. The boys settled in to play a round together. As they always did, Mitch chose Scorpion and Willy choose Sub-Zero.

They’d been playing for about twenty minutes when there was a knock at their door. “Door’s open!” Mitch yelled, in the midst of trying to land a fatality on Sub-Zero. Willy was getting seriously good: he’d have to step up his game if he wanted to keep winning.

Violet walked in. Wordlessly she walked across the room, plopping into the armchair and watching them play.

“Hey, watch this, Vi!” Willy exclaimed. Catching Mitch unaware, he landed a fatality of his own on Scorpion, ripping off his head and pulling out his spine. Willy cheered as Sub-Zero proudly displayed the decapitated remains.

Violet gave a small smile in Willy’s direction. “Good job,”

Mitch observed Violet cautiously, a small frown tugging at his lips. He didn’t see any bruises. That was good. Still, they could be underneath her hoodie. If that piece of shit did anything… Mitch tried to take a deep breath, slowing down his heart rate. He and Violet had had this conversation before. She didn’t want him ever doing anything, “pulling yourself into my shit” as she put it. One of these days he’d love to get his hands on the materials needed to blow up the dick’s van, but considering he had a record as a “troubled youth”, a move like that would immediately lead to the finger being pointed at Mitch. He couldn’t risk getting taken away. He wouldn’t do that to Willy.

They’d gone a few rounds without either of them pulling a fatality move. Time to fix that. Mashing the controller, Mitch got Scorpion to pull his signature move, pulling off his mask to reveal a skull underneath and incinerating Sub-Zero with his fire breath.

“Aaw, man!” Willy exclaimed, letting his controller drop to the couch.

“Can’t beat the master, kid,” Mitch grinned smugly.

“But I did! Like twice!”

“Whatever,” Mitch looked over to Violet, holding out his controller. “Wanna turn, Vi?”

Violet shrugged but stood up to take the controller.

Mitch headed back to the kitchen, trying to scope out some food. Knowing Violet, she probably hadn’t eaten since last night. Opening the fridge, Mitch was disheartened but not surprised to find nothing but the last dregs of a milk jug and some questionable lunchmeat inside. Shopping day was tomorrow. Mitch glanced back toward his bedroom, wondering for a second if he should text Louis and let him know Violet was here. But the fact Violet had texted him probably meant she wanted to keep things on the downlow. Louis coming over right now might be more than she could handle. Mitch strode back into the living room just in time to see Violet landing a fatality with Sonya. She rolled her eyes as her character stepped back, blowing a kiss that sent an ember flying over to torch her opponent.

“God, Sonya’s finishing move is so stupid,”

“Then why do you always play as her?” Mitch asked with a smirk, leaning against the wall.

Violet looked away, flustered. “Shut up,”

“I’m doing a McDonald’s run. Wanna come along?”

Violet’s ears immediately perked up at that. “Sure,”

“I wanna come!” Willy exclaimed, leaping up on the couch.

“Nah, somebody’s gotta stay and watch the house. Besides, you need to brush up on your moves so you can annihilate me when I get back,”

Willy didn’t seem quite convinced by Mitch’s words but he quickly flopped back down on the couch, starting up his own round. “I want a Happy Meal!”

“Will do,” Mitch replied, grabbing his keys before heading out the door, Violet close behind. He still had enough money from his last odd job for a treat. The two teens headed out to his beat-up car, hopping inside. They drove in silence; Mitch’s car only had a tape player and that had broken long before he received it.

It was Violet who spoke first. “He didn’t hit me.”

“And your mom?”

“He didn’t get her either. Broke a lamp though,”

“Bastard,” Mitch’s hand tightened on the wheel.

“It’s fine,”

“Vi, that is the exact fucking opposite of fine!” Mitch huffed in annoyance. He shouldn’t be snapping at her. “Is he gone now?”

“His new route starts on Tuesday. He’ll be gone for a week,” Violet stared at the dashboard, her arms crossed tightly. “My mom’s got her diner shift tonight so at least she’ll be out of his reach,”

“You’re staying with us tonight. And don’t give me any shit about it. You can crash on the couch,”

“…Thanks,” Violet’s voice was small.

Mitch turned into the McDonald’s drive through lane. “Now let’s get some fucking nuggets,”

It was about a half hour before they made it back to the trailer, walking in to find Willy still busy trying to master Mortal Kombat. They sat around the living room eating their nuggets and Happy Meal and taking turns at the controls. After about an hour more, they all decided it was time to switch to something else. At Willy’s request, they put on Dumb and Dumber. They’d all seen it at least a dozen times, but the jokes and gags still had Willy and Mitch laughing while the occasional chuckle came from Violet. Mitch noticed Violet texting as the movie went on. He wondered who it could be but didn’t pry.

Once the movie finished up, Mitch and Violet amused themselves on their phones while Willy started up Spyro again. It wasn’t long afterwards that Mr. Baker showed up, his arms full of grocery bags.

“Boys, a little help here?” he called from behind the load in his hands. All three hurried to assist him. A look of surprise crossed Mr. Baker’s face as Violet took the bag directly blocking his view.

“Oh, Violet! I wasn’t expecting you,”

“Violet’s staying the night,” Mitch declared before Violet might try to back out.

“That’s wonderful! I’ll be sure to make extra for tonight’s dinner,” Mr. Baker glanced at the side of the fridge. “Willy, looks like you’re my helper tonight,”

“What are we making, Dad?” Willy asked, looking up excitedly from the box of goldish crackers he’d begun devouring.

“Not that,” his father replied, pulling the crackers out of his son’s hands and ruffling his hair before placing the box on a higher shelf. “We’re having spaghetti and meatballs,”

“Yeah! Meatballs! Meatballs! Meatballs!” Willy chanted, searching the fridge for the newly bought ingredients.

Violet’s phone dinged. She pulled it out and answered it immediately, her brow furrowed in concentration as she typed out her response. Once she was done, she glanced up at Mitch who was sitting across from her at the couch. He’d been watching the interaction unfold. “It’s my mom,”

“She know where you are?”

“Yeah. Now she does,”

“Was she the one you were texting earlier?”

Violet shook her head. “That was Louis,”

“And I’m guessing you didn’t fill him in completely,”

Violet rolled her eyes. “You know how he gets about this stuff. He’d drive over and try to force me to stay at his mansion instead,”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“His house is creepy. Nothing but empty rooms and servants who look at me like they’re just waiting to catch me trying to steal some shit. This is better,”

Mitch snorted. “Leave it to Vi to prefer a trailer home to a mansion,”

“You know what I mean,”

Mitch looked over at Willy and his dad who were busy measuring the pasta for dinner. She wasn’t wrong. The location might be ass, but he couldn’t think of any people he’d rather be stuck with.

Mrs. Baker arrived home shortly before dinner was ready. She collapsed wearily in the armchair, her head thrown back and eyes closed. “Mitchell, be a dear and rub my feet, would you?” Mitch quickly acquiesced, giving Violet the stink eye as she smirked at him. He rubbed his mother’s feet gently. She cracked open an eye, giving him a tired smile before glancing over at the couch.

“Violet! What a nice surprise. Are you staying for dinner?”

“She’s staying the night!” Willy called from the kitchen. “We’re gonna have a sleepover!”

“That’s a nice thought dear, but it is a school day tomorrow, so you’ll be heading to bed on time,”

Mitch caught the look his parents exchanged across the room. They knew of Violet’s home life. They’d tried to intervene the first few times she’d come over late at night, calling the police and reporting her father. But without her mother’s testimony there wasn’t a case and Violet’s mother never wavered in her unwillingness to testify.

They all sat down to a family meal a few minutes later, sharing stories of their days and passing food round the table. Violet was included just as much as anyone else. Considering she’d known Mitch for over five years now she was practically family. Mitch noticed his parents’ glances his way as he handed the bread over to Violet. He was pretty sure they thought he had a crush on her, but he wasn’t going to bother correcting them. Violet wasn’t out at home yet; he wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to be. Best to leave that matter alone unless Violet saw fit to do otherwise. Willy was sent off to bed shortly after dinner. After a great deal of protest, he finally went, angrily stomping off in the same pajamas he’d worn all day. Mr. and Mrs. Baker retired to their room as well, leaving Violet and Mitch in the living room.

“Want to head to the roof?” Mitch offered.

Violet simply nodded.

In the years the Bakers had lived in the trailer park, it hadn’t taken Mitch very long to find all the good hiding places. One of the best was on the roof of their home, a small space that could just fit two people. The two of them leaned back against the plastic exterior, watching the sky thoughtfully.

“So,” Violet finally broke the silence, “Bring any hot girls up here yet?”

Mitch snorted. “I wish. How ‘bout you? Getting any action?”

Violet shook her head. “Don’t think that’ll happen anytime soon,”

“Howe High School is a damn wasteland,”

“You can say that again,”

“How about this?” Mitch asked, looking over at Violet. “Let’s make a deal: five years from now when we’re in college we’ll both have smoking hot girlfriends,”

Violet quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t think we can really plan for something like that to happen for sure when-”

“Deal?” Mitch asked, raising his fist for a fist bump.

Violet rolled her eyes good-naturedly, returning the gesture. “Deal,”

“I bet my girlfriend’s gonna be hotter than yours,” Mitch declared, laying back with a smile, his arms behind his head.

Violet scoffed. “Yeah right,”

The two lay there in silence watching the stars and only occasionally speaking, their words casual and off-handed. When it had grown truly dark, they snuck back inside. Mitch gave Violet the blanket that rested across the back of the armchair before wishing her a good-night and heading off to bed himself. It wasn’t much, but he was glad his family was able to offer Violet a place to stay whenever she might need it. He hoped she never hesitated to take them up on that offer.

Setting his alarm for the next day, Mitch rolled under his covers with a groan. He wasn’t looking forward to school tomorrow. It looked like Violet had forgotten her backpack. Knowing her dad, he’d still be asleep in the morning if they wanted to risk stopping by her house and sneaking in to grab it. They’d decided tomorrow if it was worth the risk. With that decided, Mitch sank into the comfort of his pillow and let sleep overtake him.

[loserholland]

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝟏𝟎𝟏

𝟎𝟎𝟒 ➺ 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬

𝟎𝟎𝟏 ➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝟎𝟎𝟐 ➺ 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞

𝟎𝟎𝟑 ➺ 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐧

Pairing ➺ Fuckboy!Tom Holland x Reader

Warning ➺ kinda angsty, none really

Word Count ➺  3,591

Summary ➺  A bet that was too hard to refuse.

A/N ➺  Sorry I’ve been so MIA! I was studying to get my permit and had a bad writers block ): also I’ll be working on one sided love and little cupid tomorrow!

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @taronxfiction @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr  @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos 

@iloveyou3000morgan  @random-things-i-love 

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

→ 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝟏𝟎𝟏 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ←  @writingstoriesaboutcharacters​ @rockinmarcel @luvborhap @kisses-holland @jessybellsworld @v-valz-n @laprvphette 

☞  Masterlist  ☜

-

“My love for you, wasn’t real”

All Tom could think about was the pain in her eyes, the moment he had said it wasn’t real. Those beautiful (Y/E/C) eyes that was once filled with so much love was now filled with hate and sadness. It’s funny how someone can go from loving you to hating you.

"You’re a div, you know that?” Harrison commented moving around Tom’s room to open the curtain’s he drew shut. Tom pulled his comforter over his face to hide from the sun’s rays, Harrison rolled his eyes in annoyance pulling the soft material off of Tom.

“You broke it off? Why? All because you’re worried about your position as President? How shallow have you gotten Tom? Vivian is now questioning if our relationship is a bet. You really fucked up Tom.” 

Tom stared blankly at the ceiling, he knew he fucked up. Harry and Sam had been texting him all night, asking him why he did it without a second thought. Why he continued to go on with the bet when he knew he loved her, all because he wanted to be the one to run ZZB?

“Haz, leave please.” Tom mumbled weakly tugging the comforter over his head, he already knew how much he fucked up. He didn’t need to be reminded of it,

“Fine, but you really chose your pride and ego over a (Y/N). She really did love you div, and now you’ve lost it.”

“I fucking hate you and never wanna see you again!”

He didn’t need to be reminded. (Y/N) said it loud and clear.

Vivian had bought chocolates and ice cream, placing her laptop on (Y/N) bed so they could binge on sad rom-com’s. (Y/N) was gonna miss seeing Tom everday, usually Tom would wait outside her class then walk her to her next class. Or he’d bring her coffee in the morning, send her a good morning text and hope’s she has a wonderful day.

There was no more of that. 

No more coffee, no more morning text. No more Tom.

It makes you think, did he really truly love her? I mean, he’d get her coffee and wait and walk her to her classes. He’d also send cute morning and night text. There was a part of her that missed that, I mean that’s what you do when you’re going through a break up. 

Reminiscing all the memories.

“Do you think Harrison and I’s relationship is based of a bet?”

(Y/N) could hear the worry in her best friend’s voice. A few days after she had told Vivian her and Tom broke up because their relationship was just a bet, Vivian began to worry that Haz and her’s relationship was a bet as well.

Through (Y/N) eye’s, she could see how much Harrison loved and cared for her. He’s too sweet and kind to do bet’s, let alone try to break Vivian’s heart. If anything, it was more of Tom and Jake’s thing to do these stupid bets.

“Viv, god no. Honestly, Harrison loves you. He wouldn’t do that to you, I think he liked you too much to make you a bet. Also, he worked his ass off to get your attention, he wouldn’t hurt you like-”

Vivian placed her hand atop of (Y/N) giving it a small squeeze of reassurance, she didn’t need to say the name of the person who broke her heart. 

“Let’s forget about this conversation and continue watching 13 going on 30.”

She hated to see her best friend this way, crying over a stupid boy who broke her heart. Just wait till she gave him a piece of her mind.

“Hold on!”

Haz shouted descending down the staircase to open the door, whoever was standing out there had been banging on the door for the past three minutes and no one decided to answer it?

“Alright settle do-Vivian?”

Vivian brushed pass her boyfriend and headed up the stairs, “Hey babe, let’s go get lunch. Let me talk to your bff really quick.” Haz shut the door watching as his girlfriend turned the corner, his eyes widened realizing what she was about to do.

“Oh-Viv! Wait!”

Vivian swung Tom’s door open, everything was a mess. Beer bottles along with a variety of chips were spread out on the floor, the blinds were drawn shut and Tom was hiding beneath his comforter.

Haz stopped in Tom’s doorway, watching Tom sit upright against his headboard. His girlfriend stood beside his bed with her arms crossed across her chest, was it a bad time to admit she looked hot when she was anger? Yeah, bad timing very bad.

“Viv-lovely-”

She turned around pointing her index finger at her boyfriend of one year, “Harrison, go get ready. In the mean time leave Thomas and I alone, I just want to chat.” Tom waved off Harrison who slowly backed away from the door and heading towards his room.

“You’ve got some nerve Holland-”

Vivian started off, she felt absolutely livid. 

“-was there any part of you that actually loved (Y/N)? If you really did have any feelings for (Y/N) if you really did love her. You would have chosen her, even if that meant losing your position..”

Tom stared blankly at his lap, allowing what Vivian had to say to slowly sink in. 

“but that’s the thing with men, no boys like you. Boys like you don’t grow up, all they care about is themselves and how many girls they can get in bed with them. First you find your victim, second you give her this ‘reassurance’ that she’s the only one. And then, when she develops feelings and is in too deep, that’s when you take their hearts and crush it. That’s what’s wrong with boys like you, they only care for themselves. If you did love (Y/N), you would’ve stepped down from your position and choose her. You wouldn’t have continued the bet, because you knew what would’ve happened. From my guess, it’s everything you thought would happen.”

Vivian began to walk away when she caught a glimpse of Harrison from the corner of her eye.

“I hope you find it in yourself to change for the better Thomas. Grow up and out of this little act of your’s, it’s not good for you.”

(Y/N) was offered an amazing life time opportunity to spend a semester in Paris, she had a three weeks to decide if she wanted to go or not. The letter had came in before she had gone to London with Tom, and this week was the last week to summit an answer.

Her professeur had encouraged her to do it, she said “It’s a great once and a life-time opportunity, you’ll learn so much.” I mean, she wasn’t wrong. It’ll just be one semester and she’ll be back for the second half after winter break. 

So she took it, and now she was packed and ready to explore the beautiful city of Paris. Vivian had dropped her off and promised to visit during thanksgiving break. She had also requested to send lot’s of pictures and wished (Y/N) the best of luck to find a french guy.

That’s what best friends are for.

Something she wished happened was, Tom came running into the airport and confessed his love for her. But her life wasn’t a rom-com and that would totally not happen. It was good to wish though.

2 months later

School was back in session, now day’s Tom hung his head low trying not to draw any attention to himself. He would take the route to class where he’d usually pass (Y/N), he began to notice how she wasn’t walking the same route. Of course she walked a different route, she didn’t want to see him.

There were nights when he’d lay awake and wonder how (Y/N) was doing. Nights where he’d stare at his phone and ponder if he should text her or call her. Nights when he’d scroll through his camera-roll of pictures he and (Y/N) took, or picture’s he’d take when (Y/N) was studying. 

Tom knocked lightly on (Y/N) dorm, god she wouldn’t want to see him. If anything she’d slam the door on his face, the sound of the door creaking open caused Tom to quickly turn the other direction and walk away.

He missed her, more than words could explain. 

Vivian stuck her head out the hallway and noticed Tom walking away at a fast pace, “Holland! You don’t get to knock and dash!” he stood in his place cursing to himself for not being fast enough, turning on his heels he walked back over to the dorm.

“Hey Vivian, is um (Y/N) here?”

She rose her brows in confusion, “She hasn’t been here for the past two months.” did he not know? I mean she did tell Harrison and expected him to tell Tom because they’re best friends, why wouldn’t Harrison tell him?

“W-what do you mean?” Tom asked in confusion, did she go back home to take some time off? 

“Harrison didn’t tell you? Jesus, I want to slap him sometimes. (Y/N) is in Paris right now, she was offered to take a semester there.” 

Paris, France

That was one number one on her bucket list, visit the city of love. Not only did she visit the city of love, she’ll be there for a semester. There were nights when the two would just talk, and go on about places they’d love to visit. Paris was one of the places (Y/N) would go on and on about.

“It’s amazing, the architecture is beyond magnificent. Also their history, I could go on and on about that.” (Y/N) spoke her head resting against Tom’s chest as her fingers traced random shapes on his abdomen.

Times like this, he’d space out and watch her in awe as she spoke passionately he loved the way she scrunched her nose when she spoke ever now and then or the twinkle in her eyes and she dreamt of what she’d do. 

“She um, left this envelope with your name on it. I think she knew one day you’d come by.”

Dear Thomas, 

 I guess if you’re reading this, you came by my dorm. Maybe you were asking for me, or maybe you were asking for your hoodies back. If you’re here because of the second option, I folded all your hoodies neatly and placed them in a bag. You can ask Vivian for them. If you came here because of option one, well I’m in Paris. The city that I wished and hoped to visit, with you. Before I left, I decided to write this because no matter how much pain and sadness you’ve caused. I still love you. I hate that, I hate that I still love you even though your love for me wasn’t real. I’m a real idiot for that, I’m an idiot for even writing this letter. But they said if you write out of you feel, it’ll make you feel a lot better. God I hope that’s true. I just miss you Thomas, I miss walking to class with you, you bringing me coffee and helping me study. I miss laying next to you. I hope, that you’ll change and be the Thomas I saw everyday, the Thomas who loves and cares for his family, please don’t be the Thomas who put’s up this act to cause other’s to fear him. Please don’t be the Thomas who thought a bet wouldn’t hurt his relationship. You have so much potential, you know you can do much better that President of ZZB. We both know that. Thomas, I hope one day you’ll let yourself feel for once, to allow yourself to get hurt. To tear down that stupid wall that hides what I saw everyday. Maybe someone time in the future, I’ll be ready to talk to you. But for now, I just hope that, maybe if you do find someone else, love the person genuinely. 

(Y/N)

P.S, 

If you plan to come any time sooner, you’ll know where to find me.

(Y/N) sat there, looking over the letter. She had spent hours contemplating if she should just crumple it up and throw it into the trash or just place it in the envelope written with Tom’s name.

She had chosen option two, hoping and praying she made the right choice. She stared at the bag with Tom’s neatly folded hoodies, she wanted to keep one. To wear and have him close to her. So she did, she kept the hoodie he wore the first night they met.

The night that changed everything.

If she didn’t go to the party with Vivian, maybe she wouldn’t have met him.

If he didn’t take her out to coffee, maybe they wouldn’t have gotten closer to one another. 

 If he didn’t accept the bet, then maybe he would’ve lost his position 

If, if Tom came clean about the bet, way before it even ended. Maybe they’d still be together.

Maybe.

“You have so much potential, you know you can do much better that president of ZZB. We both know that.”

The words echoed in his head, maybe it was time. Time to step down from what he thought he enjoyed and loved, partying and being the king of NYU. He had spent the night thinking about if this was a good choice, the right choice. 

The right choice could’ve been done months ago, when he knew he actually loved her. Right then and there would’ve called off the bet and wouldn’t give two shit’s about being President. Instead of trying to fix the past, fix your present so it won’t repeat in the future.

-

"Bonjour, puis-je avoir du café glacé et un croissant s'il vous plaît?” (Y/N) closed the cafe menu handing it to the waiter who wrote down her order. Oh Paris, it was truly beautiful except for the smell of cigarettes that filled the air. She enjoyed going to different café’s everyday and spending most of her afternoon there.

It was already one o’clock in Paris and seven in the morning New York time. This was usually the time Vivian was waking up for her eight o’clock class, and the usual time they’d just talk about how their day was yesterday.

“Morning, what do you have planned for today?” (Y/N) questioned taking a sip of her ice coffee humming lightly at how sweet her drink was, she could hear Vivian rummaging around for something in the background.

“Class, then a date with Harrison later. Also Tom stepped down as president of ZZB.” 

(Y/N) felt her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach, “Why?” all she could think about is what she wrote in the letter, about how he can do much better than president. 

“I've been waiting to tell you, he came by last week. I guess, whatever was in the letter, helped him.” Vivian spoke as she searched her drawers.

"Did he come back? For his hoodies?” she fiddled with the small spoon she had placed in her coffee twirling it around watching as it created a little whirlpool.

Maybe he didn’t care for those hoodies.

“Uh no, the last I saw him was when I gave him the envelope. Harrison said, he needed to take some time off. I think he went to visit his family. But I’ll text you later, I’m gonna grab something to eat then head to class. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

(Y/N) ended the call sighing to herself as she stared at her home screen, she still hadn’t changed it nor did she really plan too. At least she didn’t plan to change it soon, it was a picture of Tom sleeping. The morning after celebrating their sixth month anniversary, his curls fell atop his forehead with his mouth slightly agape.

As much as she wanted to delete their pictures, she found herself canceling the photos she selected to delete.

There were nights where she’d lay in bed and stare at his contact, unsure if she should call him. Nights where she’d type out a message and her thumb would hover over the little arrow, only to delete the message. 

She gathered her belongs and left a some cash to cover her bill before off to start the rest of her day.

-

"She’s always at this cafe La Fontaine de Mars, oh forgive my french. No? No laugh? Anyways, I’m not too sure where her airbnb is, I just know it’s near the Cham-Cham-” Vivian began to snap her fingers trying to pronounce it as best as she could.

“Champ Elysees.”

Vivian glared at Harrison scoffing at how he just cut her off, “Do you want to explain it?” Harrison shook his head no pressing his lips into a thin line allowing his girlfriend to continue.

“Well, what Harrison said. So once we land, we’ll check into the hotel and then you’ll go look for (Y/N).”

At the time (Y/N) had called they were getting ready to go to the airport, their flight was at 9:15 and they’d land the next day at 9:30. Hence the reason why she was causing such a ruckus, she was looking for her passport.

“You guys didn’t have to come.” Tom mumbled handing the worker his ticket and passport as Vivian scoffed lightly behind him.

“Over my dead body Holland, just because I’m helping you doesn’t mean I forgive you.” 

Tom had originally planned to go by himself but, Vivian had forced herself and Harrison onto the trip saying she missed her best friend and the only way he’d go alone to Paris if pigs started flying.

“This is gonna be a long 18 hours.” Harrison mumbled following his best friend and girlfriend through the tunnel.

-

(Y/N) sat on the balcony to her airbnb it was eleven o’clock and she planned on heading to the café in two hours. The reason why she’s always at the café at one, is because her body and mind is still on New York time. Hence the reason why she always get’s iced coffee, not that it’s not normal to have coffee anytime of the day.

She was glad that she took this opportunity, being able to study abroad for a semester. A paid trip to study abroad, all expenses paid for and taken care of. Yet, she missed New York. Paris was always a dream city to visit but, she missed her friends. She missed Tom. 

The only reason why (Y/N) accepted to go was because she thought, she could move on from Tom and spending time away maybe that’ll change how she felt about him.

Yup, that’s not working.

She got up from her seat and headed back in to get ready for the rest of her day.

Little did she know, just about an hour ago her best friend had landed in Paris along with the person she couldn’t get off her mind.

-

“Here’s the game plan boys, the hotel is within walking distance of the café. While Harrison and I are out attempting to sight see, Tom will go and find (Y/N). Got it?” 

The boys looked between one another shrugging at whatever Vivian had said, “Got it.” Vivian nodded at the two before excusing herself to get changed out of her airport outfit suggesting the boys do the same, especially Tom if he wanted (Y/N) to talk to him.

He felt beyond nervous, he hadn’t seen or spoken to her in almost two months. Just because she said if you plan to come anytime sooner, you’ll know where to find me, doesn’t mean she’d want to talk. 

Before he knew it, Tom found himself walking to the café. 

(Y/N) sat at her usual table scrolling through her phone to call Vivian, she waited for her to answer listening to the line ring for a few seconds before going to voicemail.

“Odd, maybe she’s sleeping in.” (Y/N) thought as she ended the call opening messages to leave her a good morning text and asking her to call her later.

It was a beautiful sunny day in Paris, light chatter moved up and down the street along with cars and mopeds. Tom stood a few feet away from the cafe, he could seen the girl he flew 3,625 miles to see. She looked as beautiful as ever, even beautiful since the last time he had seen her.

“This is now or never, you can only fix the present. Not the past.” Tom thought as he began to walk closer to the café, (Y/N) attention was on her phone her head hanged low and she mindlessly scrolled through instagram.

She pressed on Vivian’s story to see she took a picture of her and Harrison standing in front of the eiffel tower in confusion, “Her photoshopping skills are getting better or she was actually here.” (Y/N) thought to herself noticing the photo was taken about ten minutes ago.

“Hi.” 

A voice said, an all to familiar voice. 

(Y/N) lifted her head to see Tom was standing in front of her, maybe this was a dream. A really vivid crazy dream, he couldn’t have been here, neither could Vivian and Harrison.

She pinched her exposed skin in hopes that she’d wake up, yet all she got was a little sharp pain to her wrist. This was real, he actually read the letter. Tom was in the flesh, standing right in front of her.

“Hi.” (Y/N) responded with a small smile.

Maybe, everything was meant to be this way.